#i feel like I went way more in depth on this than needed but like I had fun

[amusedmuralist]

alabastercloud:

cephiedvariable:

coelasquid:

rosalarian:

dresdencodak:

Seeing as how I’ve done both the top ten for best and worst superhero costume redesigns, I feel obligated to put my money where my artistic mouth is and take a stab at fixing or updating some of these costumes.  I’ve picked five here based on: 

It’s a particularly awful outfit that doesn’t fit the character, or

It’s a solid character who just needs some updating or tweaking

I’ll list these in order of “reboot depth:”

5. Starfire

What’s wrong: In the wake of DC’s “new 52” this felt like a no-brainer.  Starfire is a decent character who’s always, in my opinion, gotten the short end of the costume stick.  I get that she’s supposed to be sexually liberated and somewhat polyamorous, and that’s fine, but dressing like a John Carter’s Princess of Mars-themed stripper doesn’t cut it.  Really, up until the Teen Titans cartoon she’s always been in the most awkward and impractical getups for someone fighting crime.

The Fix: I went for the simple route and took some notes from the cartoon (notably the skirt). I wanted to make sure it kept the bubbly, innocent feeling of the character while also hinting at some power (with the exposed arms here).  The overall effect is meant to convey someone who’s tough, cheerful and comfortable flying around in the air.

4. Dr. Strange

What’s wrong: I love Dr. Strange, but he’s always had the worst outfits.  For a guy who basically hangs out in his house in the West Village, he seems to always wear the most ostentatious getups.  He’s not an alien from another planet or from some culture that would dress that way, he’s a grown man who became a wizard well into adulthood.  Nothing wrong with having some style while you’re maintaining the balance of the mystic planes.

The Fix: Two parts Vincent Price, one part Christopher Lee and one part Dr. Orpheus, this Dr. Strange is still magical, but with a more coherent design direction.

3. Ms. Marvel

What’s Wrong: Simply put, I think it’s embarrassing for Marvel to showcase a prominent character like Ms. Marvel and have her wearing that outfit.  It’s just so tacky, and tells us nothing about the character.  Basically they just changed the colors of Jean Grey’s Phoenix costume and exposed more skin.  Come on, guys.

The Fix: Since her origins are ostensibly tied with Captain Marvel, I decided to go a route that’s more along the lines of the Ultimate Marvel version of that character, where her abilities come from alien technology rather than vague space magic.  The notion that she’s, for example, permanently bound with this technology that she doesn’t fully understand can make for some interesting stories.  There can be some potential with this character again with just a little bit of tweaking.

2. Wonder Woman

What’s Wrong: Wonder Woman, in my opinion, is a character that’s always been on the cusp of being really neat but never quite making it like Superman or Batman.  Although a feminist pop icon, her origins are too tied up with creator WIlliam Marston’s obsession with bondage.  Because of this (and an all-too-frequent parade of poor or sexist writing), she’s never had a solid, progressive design.  The 21st century can update this character.

The Fix: One part Thor, three parts Xena. I’d push the mythological angle further.  Just as nobody thinks of Thor as “Superman with a hammer” I don’t want Wonder Woman to be “girl Superman,” as she’s sometimes seen.  I’ve also tweaked her origin slightly, making her a more literal “statue come to life.” This isn’t as extreme as it seems: in regular canon, Wonder Woman’s origin was that she was formed out of clay by the queen of the Amazons, and imbued with the powers of the Greek Gods.  This, I think offers more story possibilities if she’s less literally human, physically.  Her personality would remain the same (nothing more fun than the perspective of an Amazon in the modern world), but we now have an added Pinnochio-style layer.

The costume change is mostly conservative.  Because of the strong fetish associations (and overall impracticality for a fighting Amazon), I’ve removed the lasso in favor of more traditional Greek weapons.  The overall effect is intended to push Wonder Woman’s core themes further while making her also stand out as more than just “the female superhero.”

1. Superman

What’s Wrong: Since his creation, Superman’s drifted from being a progressive champion for the common man to a patriotic middle-America boyscout who represents the establishment and traditional values. When he was developed in the 30s, Superman was very much a Depression-era hero, mostly going after villains like crooked money lenders and saving people who were being abused by the system.  His superpowers came from the fact that he was from a more advanced society, and his morals too were because he was simply a brainier, more sophisticated guy.  During and following WW2 and into the Cold War, though, he became an official symbol for American values in particular (it was originally “Truth and Justice,” without “the American Way”).  He was now not just an alien, but an alien raised by simple Kansas farmers and his abilities had a more generic “superpower” explanation.  This is all fine, really, but I think the original concept is more compelling these days.

The Fix: ”Superman: the Man of Tomorrow, Strange Visitor from Another World.” I really want to push that.  First off, Kryptonians should actually look like aliens and not white people. Here I have Kal-El from a race of beings who are essentially post-human (in that they’ve long since merged with technology).  They’re strange to our mortal eyes but mean well.  I’d keep the “destroyed planet” origin but more heavily emphasize the “non-interference” part of Superman’s mission statement.  

If you’ll remember from the 70s movie, his father Jor-El told him he was forbidden to interfere with the course of human history, but when you think about it, that’s kind of vague.  What I’ve done is added a Star Trek or Uatu the Watcher kind of prime directive to all advanced species:  Kal-El can’t let people know that he’s an alien, nor can he openly interact with them using advanced technology.  Still, he’s a compassionate guy and wants to help, so he takes the form of “Superman” to inspire the mortals in a constructive way.  Also, the notion that he can take on different forms means that the Clark Kent secret identity need not be as bad as it currently is.

The costume redesign holds to the basic themes but makes it a little more working class.  The buttons at the top are meant to invoke overalls, and the sleeves are cut a little higher for someone working with their hands.  I’ve removed the spandex and gone with looser fitting slacks, while keeping a short cape and boots, since he’s still an adventurer.

Overall I want to evoke a classic Superman feel while making it a little more modern in its exploration of the sci fi themes.  He’s still basically the same guy:  an alien from another world looking to fight injustice, but without the overt patriotism and a quirkier execution of the secret identity.

*********************

So there you have it.  I’ve hope you’ve enjoyed my superhero costume trilogy!

Part 1: The Best Superhero/Villain Redesigns

Part 2: The Worst Superhero/Villain Redesigns

That Superman is… probably the best redo of Superman I have ever seen, both in looks and backstory. Bravo!

cool stuffff

The Starfire is a no brainer, the Dr. Strange is my new unrequited fictional crush, the Wonder Woman is breath-taking and that take on Superman is one thousand degrees of shit I didn’t know I wanted but I would be so comfortable if they uprooted over 70 years of comic book history to change him into this.

[stottlemonk-moments]

Stottlemonk Moments:

Monk s06ep16: "Mr. Monk Is on the Run: Part 2"

[dinopant]

i need to move out of this 'idk what im doing with myself' phase in my life and start doin shit that makes me feel like it matters

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

PHASE 3:

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires

i have all of my desires

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable

everything is going to be okay because creation is done

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

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Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

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*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Close to You - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer is needy and Reader has a work deadline to meet, so they try something new as a compromise.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: me writing another cockwarming fic? it’s more likely than you’d think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (no mommy kink this time cuz this feels more mild as far as the sub/dom dynamic goes, maybe next time!)

TW: sub!spencer, softdom!reader, cockwarming, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie, afab reader

Rating: R/18+ (oops all smut)

——

The blue light of your computer screen was starting to make your eyes hurt, the hours of completed paperwork in your rearview feeling like nothing compared to the digital mountain of remaining work for your proposal you still had to complete by the deadline your boss had given you. Working from home certainly had its perks, but right now the only thing you could think of was how much more focused you’d be if you were still in an office.

“How’s work going?” Spencer’s voice broke your train of thought as he turned the corner into your home office.

“It’s fine, I still have a lot to get done.” You sighed, continuing to type away on your keyboard.

“You know, I was reading an article the other day about studies being conducted that explore the long term effects the extended work hours work-from-home jobs require have on the average adult, it went pretty in-depth on how psychologists suspect the lack of separation between work and the home environment can negatively affect the way we prioritize professional work with personal tasks and quality time.” You could tell your boy-wonder was using his vast knowledge to pick an article with a topic that was a bit too on the nose to beat around the bush of his point, but you didn’t know why.

“That’s very interesting Spencer, but why bring that up when you know I can’t stop working?” You questioned, calling his bluff.

“We haven’t had sex in 2 weeks.” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You knew that, and it was driving you crazy just as much as it was him, but this project was major and if you wanted to get the promotion you had been working so hard to get, you had to set your personal needs aside for a bit.

“I’ll make it up to you once I finish this, I promise.” You weren’t lying, your accidental celibacy had stretched your imagination to some very interesting places, and you couldn’t wait to try those new things with him, but it had to wait, no matter how touch-starved you felt.

“I want you.” He almost whined, taking a couple steps further into your peripheral vision.

“Spencer, you know I need to get this project completed before my deadline tomorrow, I don’t have time for this.”

“But I need…help.” His words were drawn out, his hushed tone piquing your interest. You pushed your chair out, craning your neck to make eye contact with him before his gaze dipped lower and yours followed. The fabric of his pajama pants was pulled taut over his bulge, his fidgeting hands barely restricting your view despite his attempt to hide the evidence of his arousal behind them.

“Oh baby, that must hurt, huh?” You sighed, giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to your work.

“It does, I need you.” He pleaded, coming up behind you to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“You need to take care of it yourself.” Your statement came out more blunt than you intended and a hint of guilt started to pang in your chest, the stress of this deadline was starting to get to you and you didn’t mean to take it out on him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I already tried and I just made it worse, you feel so much better than my hand does.” He over-explained, continuing to plead his case as his fingers started kneading the sore muscles atop your shoulders.

You mulled over your options, the concept of his admittedly impressive cock filling your neglected cunt sounding all-too appealing in the moment. You knew you couldn’t take the time to fuck him right now, after no sex for two weeks your carnal urges would absolutely take over and you’d wind up ignoring your work for the rest of the night, to the detriment of your employment status. You were about to send him away when an idea popped into your head, something that could be a good compromise to both of your predicaments if done correctly.

“Drop your pants.” You bluntly stated, beginning to stand from your chair. He followed your instruction, a bit confused but too excited to question, always eager to please you. You also stripped from the waist down, ignoring the growing slick between your thighs.

“Sit down.” Came your next instruction, your eyes fixed on his erection, his head blushed pink and dripping with precum. When he was situated you climbed back onto the chair with him, positioning your knees on the suede fabric on either side of his thighs, hips hovering over his member. You reached down, fingers wrapping around his length as you positioned his head at your dripping entrance, reveling in the first sexual contact the two of you had experienced in far too long.

You slowly sank down, your warm walls engulfing his throbbing cock until you were seated fully on his lap, the fullness giving you a sense of satisfaction. Spencer’s breathy sighs and white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, but you knew he would want more any second. You on the other hand were always better at controlling your desires, even just this level of intimacy enough to satiate you for the moment.

You relaxed into him, back pressed to his chest as you began your work once again, ignoring the dull ache in your core.

“A-are you going to move?” Spencer’s desperate voice broke the silence after a few minutes of you typing away at your computer.

“No. This is all I have time to give you right now. If you’re a good boy and stay still for me, I’ll let you do whatever you want tonight.” You were curious to see how well he’d do with this. Even though Spencer prided himself on being the smartest in the room at any given time, he wasn’t very good at controlling his urges and it amused you how his composure could disappear if he was desperate enough, particularly around you.

“Okay.” He breathed, seeing the muscles in his arms relax and the grip he held on the chair loosen out of the corner of your eye.

You continued your work, busting your ass to complete your project as quickly as possible. Every once and awhile you’d flex your kegel muscles, your walls contracting around his cock to keep him as hard as possible, teasing him to see how hard you could push his patience.

You grew closer to your last tasks, the end finally in sight when you felt him start to shift under you, hips attempting to thrust up into you. You anchored your hips, holding him down to not break your focus. He let out the most pathetic whine you’d ever heard, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.

“If you move again, you won’t cum tonight. I’m almost done, do not distract me again.” You told him sternly, rocking your hips back one time as an incentive.

“Understood.” He groaned, thighs relaxing beneath you.

You wrapped up the last paragraph of your proposal, satisfied with the work you had done. You could feel Spencer tense when you closed out of the last application and shut off the computer, screen darkening and leaving the two of you bathed in the golden glow of sunset in an otherwise dark room. Instead of finishing him there, you rose off of him, leaving him groaning in desperation.

His cock was covered in your slick, veins throbbing and head almost purple from how desperate he was to cum. You started walking out of the room, finger motioning for him to follow you and he almost tripped over the chair, trailing in your shadow. You found the bedroom, stripping out of your remaining clothing while contemplating what position you wanted him in. Your thighs were starting to burn from sitting in the position you had held for so long, so you opted for good old-fashioned missionary. You laid down on the bed, thighs spread as Spencer pulled off his shirt and waited for your instruction.

“Come here.” The words had barely left your lips and Spencer was already on the end of the bed, crawling up to you like an animal on the prowl.

“Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?” You asked, drawing out his torture just a little while longer.

“Yes please, need to feel your perfect cunt again.” He begged, looking down at you with his big brown eyes.

“Go ahead, but don’t cum until I say so.” You instructed, your hand finding the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on his hair. He moaned, positioning himself at your entrance before thrusting fully into you, his gaze locked on the way your breasts bounced with each desperate thrust into your warm cunt.

His pace remained steady, pounding into you, your pleasure slowly building but not quite hitting the spot you needed him to. You wrapped your legs around his hips, angling your hips up ever so slightly and you couldn’t help but cry out, his cock finally hitting the soft spot inside of you that you’d been craving. He dropped his head into your shoulder, bringing his hand to your pussy to rub firm swipes over your clit, clearly desperately trying to make you cum so he could.

“So close, I don’t know how much longer I can last.” He panted, hips faltering slightly.

“It’s okay baby, don’t stop.” You moaned, too close to care about being firm with him anymore after how good he’d been for you today.

His thrusts became increasingly desperate, driving into you at a pace that had you seeing stars, the combined pressure on your clit sending you over the edge in a blur of white hot ecstasy.

“Spencer!” You cried out, nails digging into his back as you rode out your orgasm, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, hips stuttering and you could tell he was almost there, but something was holding him back.

“Cum inside me.”

Your request was all he needed to hear, not having to worry about pulling out anymore allowing all of his focus to finally come undone, hot ropes of cum filling your aching cunt. He pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with his head on your chest, long legs almost dangling off the side of the bed. You laid there spent, gently running your fingers through his hair until you both caught your breath.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“There's no need to thank me Spence, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. You were right about overworking, I’ll try to delegate a bit more.” You sighed.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, you deserve to enjoy yourself more often.” He leaned up to pull you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist as you finally got a moment to relax for the first time in weeks.

——

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[roxannepolice]

This popped up in my notes (still hoping JS will do sth similar for this year's DW day, but I understand if he's too busy playing uuhhh... a man who first had a lonesome and abusive childhood and then got so consumed by greed that he abandoned his love and turned objectively commendable tenacity for selfish gain, and then just went along with bitter sunk cost fallacy until supernatural forces had to intervene), and I just have to say: this song is just too. freaking. fitting. for the Master. Again, I'm just not the biggest fan of the Master being framed as just a poor little meow meow with abandonment issues, that's just not what they structurally are, at least not more than Beethoven's 9th is an ape advertising it's genes, and just in general... RTD's writing of thoschei is soooooo overflowing with rock and metal vibes from 70s and 80s (especially Pink Floyd! mr Waters I have a lot of problems with your political views but the way you projected your midlife crisis on a brilliant friend you lost is something else), but this song? This song in particular is insanely fitting the vibes Simm!Master gives.

Like, on the one hand you have lyrics that are as far away from emo showcasing of trauma as you get

Taste me, you will see More is all you need Dedicated to How I'm killing you

Needlework the way, never you betray Life of death becoming clearer Pain monopoly, ritual misery Chop your breakfast on a mirror [...]

Master, master, where's the dreams that I've been after? Master, master, you promised only lies Laughter, laughter, all I hear or see is laughter Laughter, laughter, laughing at my cries Fix me! [...]

Hell is worth all that, natural habitat Just a rhyme without a reason Never-ending maze, drift on numbered days Now your life is out of season

This here? This here is pure devilish overlord that lies and focuses on things being pretty rather than good. There is nothing more to this, it's just a craving for more, always more.

And then. Then is the freaking guitar bridge. Like. Fuck's sake, Kirk Hammet. What. is. that pure sorrow and emptiness turned into perfectly self controlled beauty, like a lonesome ballet dancer that you just know should have a partner to hold them up? How does it suddenly become so decisive, powerful and aggressive, and repetivtive as percussion rises before going into a full blown self-satisfied band play???? What is that descending almost desperate guitar wails before the final diabolical laughter sets in????

Like, this is exactly what mr Simm did in his performance as the Master. If you look at the text itself, it's just pure self-satisfied evil. But the music, the feel, the medium that conveys emotion in a way words just can't. You just know the depth is there.

Everyone go and check out John Simm's IG stories. The icon posted Vote Saxon poster with Metallica's Master of Puppets to celebrate Doctor Who Day. The obvious has been done, the universe is safe now, the order restored, my crops are cleaned and my skin is watered or wtv.

[its-avalon-08]

don't walk away from me (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, neglect, alot of tears, fluff, it's super long

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, her heart racing and hands trembling as she stared at the small, white plastic stick in her hand. Two faint pink lines stared back at her, confirming what she had both feared and hoped for. She was pregnant.

Tears welled up in her eyes as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her—fear, joy, uncertainty. She and Lando had been together for five years, but they had never discussed having children. Not seriously, at least. She had always imagined they would have this conversation when they were both ready, when the timing was perfect. But now, the reality of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

She placed the pregnancy test on the nightstand and hugged her knees to her chest, trying to calm herself. The house was eerily quiet, amplifying her anxiety. She glanced at the clock. Lando would be home soon. How was she going to tell him? What if he didn't want this? What if he wasn't ready?

The sound of the front door opening and closing pulled her out of her thoughts. She wiped her tears away and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead.

"Y/N, I'm home," Lando called out from downstairs.

She stood up, her legs feeling shaky, and walked to the top of the stairs. "Lando, can you come up here for a second?"

His footsteps echoed through the house as he made his way up the stairs. When he reached the bedroom door, he gave her a curious look. "What's up?"

Y/N bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. "I need to talk to you about something. Something important."

Lando's expression shifted to concern as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "Okay, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Lando's eyes widened, and his face went pale. "What? How?"

Y/N's tears started to flow again. "I don't know, Lando. It just happened. I'm scared too, but we need to talk about this."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. "This can't be happening right now. I'm not ready for this. We have our whole lives ahead of us, our careers. A baby wasn't part of the plan."

Her heart shattered at his words. "I know it's unexpected, but we can figure it out together. We love each other, don't we? We can make this work."

He stopped pacing and turned to face her, anger and frustration etched on his face. "I don't want a baby right now, Y/N. This isn't what I signed up for. How could you let this happen?"

She flinched at his harsh tone, her tears flowing freely. "It's not like I planned this, Lando. You are equally as responsible as I am. But it's happening, and we need to deal with it. Together."

He shook his head, his voice rising. "No, you need to deal with it. I can't handle this right now. I'm not ready to be a father."

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears and shattered dreams. Y/N's heart ached as she realized the depth of his feelings. She had hoped for support, for understanding, but instead, she felt more alone than ever.

"Lando, please," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "We can figure this out. We can make it work."

He looked at her with a mix of anger and despair. "I can't, Y/N. I just can't."

With those words, he turned and left the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house. Y/N collapsed onto the bed, her sobs wracking her body. She had never felt so lost, so scared, so heartbroken.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she tried to compose herself. Lando’s reaction had been worse than she had imagined, and now he stood in front of her, pacing back and forth, his face contorted with frustration and disbelief.

"I thought you would fight for us. For me," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Lando stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "Fight for us? Y/N, do you even understand what this means? My career, all of it—derailed! I’ve worked my entire life to get to this point, and now this?"

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, her heart aching with every word he said. "Are you even listening to me, Lando? This isn’t just about you. This is our baby. Our future. You can’t just push this away because it’s inconvenient."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Inconvenient? Y/N, it’s more than inconvenient! It’s a complete upheaval of everything we’ve built. Everything I’ve built. How can you expect me to just accept this?"

She stood up, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Because I love you, Lando! And I thought you loved me too. I thought we were in this together, no matter what."

He shook his head, his eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall. "I do love you, but this… this is too much. I’m not ready to be a father. I’m not ready for any of this."

Y/N took a step closer to him, her eyes pleading. "And you think I am? You think I wanted this to happen right now? But it did, and we have to deal with it. We have to face it together. Isn’t that what love is about?"

Lando’s voice softened, but his words still cut deep. "I’m scared, Y/N. I don’t know if I can do this."

Her heart shattered at the vulnerability in his voice, but she couldn’t let go of the anger and hurt that had built up inside her. "I’m scared too, Lando. But running away isn’t going to solve anything. We have to face this, together."

He looked away, his jaw clenched. "I need time to think. I can’t do this right now."

Y/N felt a surge of anger and desperation. "Time? We don’t have time, Lando. This is happening now, whether we’re ready or not. And I need you to be with me in this. I need you to fight for us."

He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his emotions. "I don’t know if I can."

Her voice softened, but the pain was still evident. "Please, Lando. Don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on me."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of love and fear. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I can’t."

With those words, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart broken and her world turned upside down. She sank to the floor, her sobs echoing through the empty house.

In that moment, she realized that she was truly alone. She had hoped that their love would be strong enough to overcome any obstacle, but now she faced the harsh reality that sometimes, love wasn’t enough. But even in her despair, she knew she would fight for her baby. She would fight for the future she believed in, with or without Lando.

Because in the end, the love she had for her child was stronger than any fear, stronger than any heartbreak. And she would not let that love be derailed, no matter what.

The reality of her situation settled over her like a heavy blanket. She was pregnant, and the man she loved was not ready to face it with her. She was alone in this, and the path ahead seemed impossibly difficult.

But as she lay there, crying into the pillows, a steely resolve began to form within her. She would do whatever it took to protect and care for her child. She would find a way to make it work, with or without Lando.

a few hours later

Lando stood in the empty living room, the silence around him deafening. His eyes scanned the room, confusion and panic setting in as he noticed the absence of Y/N’s belongings. His heart raced as he hurried up the stairs to their bedroom, only to find it stripped of her presence. The closet doors hung open, her clothes gone, and the drawers emptied.

A notification buzzed on his phone, pulling him out of his frantic thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see a large deposit in his bank account. He froze, realizing what it meant. He rushed back downstairs, where a table was neatly stacked with items—clothes, jewelry, and gifts he had bought for Y/N over the years. Everything was returned, methodically placed as if to signify the end of their relationship.

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He had never felt so lost, so utterly regretful. His mind raced back to their fight, his harsh words echoing in his ears. He had pushed her away, and now she was gone. Completely.

The doorbell rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Carlos standing there, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. Behind him, Rebecca stood with a comforting hand on Carlos’ shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Lando asked, his voice hollow.

Carlos stepped inside, his eyes blazing. “I’m here because Y/N needs someone to look after her. Clearly, that’s not you anymore.”

Lando’s heart sank. “Carlos, I made a mistake. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Carlos’s jaw tightened. “A mistake? Lando, you didn’t just make a mistake. You broke her heart. You left her alone when she needed you the most.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, and I regret it. Please, just let me see her. Let me make things right.”

Carlos shook his head firmly. “No, you don’t get to see her. Not after what you did. She’s devastated, Lando. Do you understand that? She’s completely heartbroken.”

Lando’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”

Carlos’s anger flared. “And you think she wasn’t? You think she didn’t need you to be strong for her, to stand by her side? You were supposed to be her partner, and you abandoned her.”

Lando buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. “I know. I know I messed up. But I love her, Carlos. I love her so much.”

Carlos softened slightly but kept his guard up. “Love isn’t just words, Lando. It’s actions. And your actions showed her that she can’t rely on you. That she can’t trust you to be there for her.”

Rebecca stepped forward, her voice gentle yet firm. “Y/N needs time, Lando. She needs to heal. Right now, the best thing you can do is give her space and let her process everything.”

Lando looked up, his eyes pleading. “Please, just tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her and that I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Carlos’s gaze softened, but his resolve remained. “She knows, Lando. But it’s going to take more than words to fix this. It’s going to take time and a lot of effort on your part. And right now, the best thing for her is to be surrounded by people who will support her and help her heal.”

Lando nodded, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. “I understand. Please, just take care of her. Tell her I’m here, waiting, whenever she’s ready.”

Carlos and Rebecca turned to leave, but Carlos paused, his face filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “I thought you would stick around, Lando. I thought you’d be there for her, no matter what. But now, she’s alone because of you.”

Lando felt the weight of Carlos’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. “I never wanted this, Carlos. I never wanted to hurt her.”

Carlos shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Intentions don’t matter when your actions speak louder. She needed you, and you walked away. Now she’s left to pick up the pieces on her own.”

As the door closed behind them, Lando sank to the floor, his heart aching with the weight of his mistakes. He had a long road ahead of him, and he knew that earning Y/N’s forgiveness and trust would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. But for her, he was willing to do whatever it took.

Because he couldn’t bear the thought of a future without her, and he would fight to make things right, no matter how long it took.

--

Carlos carefully helped Y/N settle into his guest room, ensuring she had everything she needed. He placed her suitcase at the foot of the bed and fluffed the pillows before turning to her with a gentle smile.

“Mi niña, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?” he said softly, his voice full of warmth and concern.

Y/N nodded, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She tried to put on a brave face, but the moment Carlos wrapped her in a comforting hug, she broke down completely, sobbing into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N,” Carlos whispered, rubbing her back soothingly. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

She clung to him, her body shaking with each sob. “I-I don’t know what to do, Carlos. It hurts so much.”

He held her tighter, his heart breaking at the sight of her pain. “I know, mi niña. I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. We’re here for you. Rebecca and I, we’ll take care of you.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I just… I thought he would fight for us. For me.”

Carlos gently wiped away her tears, his expression one of deep sorrow and fierce protectiveness. “Lando made a mistake, and he’s going to regret it. But right now, you need to focus on yourself and the baby. You’re strong, Y/N. You’re going to get through this.”

She nodded, trying to believe his words. “Thank you, Carlos. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re like a little sister to me. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in his unwavering support. “I just feel so lost.”

Carlos held her close, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re not lost, mi niña. You’re just finding a new path. And you have us to help you every step of the way.”

Rebecca entered the room quietly, carrying a tray with a cup of tea and some snacks. She placed it on the bedside table and joined them, wrapping her arms around Y/N as well.

“We’re going to take care of you,” Rebecca said softly. “You’re family to us, Y/N.”

Surrounded by their love and support, Y/N felt a small glimmer of hope. She still had a long road ahead of her, but with Carlos and Rebecca by her side, she knew she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Carlos pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “Remember, mi niña, you’re stronger than you think. And we’ll be here to remind you of that every day.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her heart feeling a little lighter. “I’ll try to remember that. Thank you, Carlos. Thank you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca squeezed her hand gently. “We’re here for you, every step of the way.”

As Y/N settled into bed that night, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in weeks. She knew the journey ahead would be difficult, but with the support of those who loved her, she believed she could find her way.

--

Over the next few months Lando was adamant in trying to prove to Y/N that he will be there for her.

first instance: the midnight voicemail

Lando sat in his car outside Y/N's apartment, his fingers trembling as he held his phone. He had been doing this every night for the past six months, just listening to her voicemail. It was his way of feeling close to her, even when she needed space.

“Hey, it’s me, Lando,” he started, his voice soft and full of emotion. “I just wanted to say goodnight. I know you’re probably asleep, but I hope you and the baby are doing well. I-I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you. I love you. my love.”

He ended the call, tears streaming down his face. He knew she might never listen to these voicemails, but it didn’t matter. It was his way of staying connected, of showing her he cared.

second instance: the doctor's appointment

Y/N sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping her foot. She glanced up as the door opened and Lando walked in, carrying a small bouquet of her favorite flowers. He smiled softly at her, his eyes filled with concern and love.

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing her the flowers.

She took them, her heart warming at the gesture. “Thank you, Lan.”

They sat together, waiting for her name to be called. When it was time, Lando stood up, offering her his hand. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling the warmth of his support.

During the appointment, he stayed by her side, asking the doctor questions and making sure she was comfortable. It was clear he was committed to being there for her and their baby, no matter what. Towards the end Y/N interlocked her fingers with his.

third instance: the late-night cravings

One night, Y/N woke up with a sudden craving for chocolate ice cream. She sighed, knowing it was late, but her craving was too strong to ignore. She was about to get dressed to go to the store when her phone buzzed.

A message from Lando: “Hey, just thinking about you baby. Do you need anything?”

She hesitated for a moment before replying, “Actually, yes. I’m craving chocolate ice cream. But it’s late, and I don’t want to bother you.”

Within minutes, her phone buzzed again. “On my way. Be there in 10.”

Ten minutes later, Lando knocked on her door, holding a bag with several tubs of chocolate ice cream. “I wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so I got a few different kinds,” he said with a sheepish smile.

Y/N’s heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you, Lando. You didn’t have to do this. It means so much to me.”

He shrugged, his eyes full of warmth. “I want to. I want to be here for you, for both of you.”

fourth instance: the nursery

Lando had spent weeks secretly working on a nursery for their baby. He knew Y/N wanted to keep things simple, but he wanted to surprise her with something special. He enlisted the help of Carlos and Rebecca, who both supported him in his efforts to make things right.

One afternoon, he called Y/N and asked her to come over. When she arrived, he led her to the room that had once been his office. He opened the door, revealing a beautifully decorated nursery.

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she took in the sight. The walls were painted a soft, calming color, and there was a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair. Everything was perfect.

“I wanted to show you that I’m committed to this, to our family,” Lando said, his voice full of emotion. “I know it’s just a room, but I hope it shows you how much I care.”

Y/N walked into the room, touching the crib and the soft blankets. “It’s beautiful, Lando. Thank you.”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise.”

fifth instance: the ultrasound

The day of the ultrasound was a mix of excitement and nerves for Y/N. Lando had insisted on coming, even though he knew she still needed space. As they sat in the exam room, the technician prepped the equipment.

When the image of their baby appeared on the screen, Lando’s breath caught in his throat. Tears filled his eyes as he saw the tiny life they had created.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

Y/N looked at him, her own eyes filled with tears. “Yes, it is.”

He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you for letting me be here baby. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.”

--

Six months had passed, and Y/N knew Lando had done everything he could to prove his love and commitment. One evening, she found herself standing outside his apartment again, her heart pounding in her chest.

She knocked, and moments later, Lando opened the door, his eyes widening in surprise and hope. “Y/N,” he said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in, please.”

She walked in, the familiar scent of his apartment washing over her. It felt like stepping back into a memory, a life that had once been hers.

Lando closed the door and turned to face her, his heart in his throat. “How are you feeling love?” he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

She placed a hand on her growing belly, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m doing okay. The baby’s doing well.”

He nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m glad. I’m so glad.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice steady but soft. “Lando, I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You’ve been there for me, even when I didn’t want you to be. And I appreciate it. I really do.”

He looked at her, his heart aching with regret and hope. “I’ll never stop trying, Y/N. I know I messed up, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I love you. I love you and our baby, and I’ll do anything to prove that to you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I know you will. I can see that now. And I’m ready to give us another chance.”

Lando’s breath hitched, and he took a tentative step closer to her. “You are?”

She nodded, wiping away a tear. “Yes. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying I’m not still hurt. But I want to try. I want us to try.”

He closed the distance between them, gently taking her hands in his. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll do everything I can to make things right. I’ll never take you for granted again.”

She squeezed his hands, her eyes searching his. “I need you to understand that it’s not just about words, Lan. It’s about actions. I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul, that you’re committed to us, to our family.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination. “I am. I swear I am. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

She let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “Okay. Then let’s do this. Together.”

Lando pulled her into a gentle hug, careful not to press too hard against her belly. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me another chance. I won’t let you down.”

As they stood there, holding each other, the future seemed a little brighter, a little more hopeful. They had a long road ahead, but they were ready to face it together, hand in hand.

And for the first time in months, Y/N felt a sense of peace, knowing that they were going to be okay. That they were going to be a family. She was going to be with the man she loved and all was going to be right again.

the request -

[salaimoi]

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! I finally wrote a fic that isn’t about GOJO?! whaaaaaaat is the world as we know it coming to an end? D:

Past lover Sukuna who originally took no interest in you being his wife, but eventually, your abiding love taught him to do so. But, it was far too late when you established that he was indeed capable of loving someone other than himself. Your demise caused him to lose the individual he held dearest in this world – replacing the affectionate sentiment that had been coursing through his heart with resentment.

Past lover Sukuna who had anticipated your fated return once more since the Heian Era, only for your rebirth to never arrive, even though millennia went by. The benevolent soul he eagerly waited for became ensnared in the depths of the underworld, unable to reincarnate into the mortal world.

Even then, he was more than certain that you weren’t at eternal rest because of the longing, the nostalgia, and the need to be together again that he felt. 

He knew your anima was among the 7 realms somewhere; all he had to do was wait for your return. Heaven could wait as long as it meant laying eyes on that precious face of yours once more.

Past lover Sukuna who noticed the spitting image of his deceased wife walking down the street that fateful day. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity to have you once more in this lifetime as well – even if it was borderline selfish. 

To bring back those good old times; to bring back what was his. 

To hold you. To own you. To conquer you. To possess you. To control your soul. To do whatever he wanted to with you. 

To be with you once again, reverting to a time when he could feel affection – the way he liked best.

Past lover Sukuna who gripped your arm vigorously out of the blue among the crowd, because Sukuna never knew boundaries – not when it came to his beloved. 

“You look familiar,” he said, “not only the uncanny face shape and the exact same expression… but also your scent.” His gaze unrelenting as he scanned every aspect of your being as if you were his property, to make sure it was you – and he was correct. 

You were the same woman Sukuna fell in love with 1000 years ago. Alas, his delicate swan had returned to him after eons of suffering, like he knew you would.

Past lover Sukuna who noticed you squirming under his grip and scolded you, sharp nails digging at your flesh. 

“You shouldn’t be acting like this; it isn’t decent behavior for the reincarnation of my cherished wife to act in such a manner.” 

But you didn't remember a life before this one, nor did you recall his name or even the fact that you were once his most prized possession. 

Past lover Sukuna who waited over a thousand years just for his beloved to reincarnate into a mortal. He knew he wasn’t capable of loving anybody nearly as much as he loved her. And now...now she's back.

When you left this world, you took all – if any – of the sense of compassion he had. No one in the history of sorcerers and curses alike could come close to comprehending the misery he endured with each passing day.

Time and time again, reliving his wife’s death in his subconscious. Powerless to intervene as he witnessed the life drain out of her and transfer onto his fingertips.

“I missed you all those years, and I can't have the same fate happening again. I'm not going to let you die the way you did in your past life, got it?" Never forgetting to conceal the anguish in his words, as to not let himself be too vulnerable.

Past lover Sukuna who was hellbent on evoking in you the sentiment of what it was like to be his spouse. Even if it meant having to recreate every single romantic scenario he ever experienced with you a second time.

“I finally have you with me again. All I need to do is make you remember the feelings you had for me in your previous life, and then you'll have your past self fully restored.”

To you, it would entail falling in love with him all over again; to him, it would be a refresher on what you once shared. A win-win scenario.

Past lover Sukuna who began to notice the essence of that past life slowly merging with your current self, fusing the two identities into one. The love she felt a thousand years ago was slowly reawakening. All while Sukuna stood there in awe of the magnificent sight he was witnessing; the sight of his beloved being reborn again. The reunion of two souls was happening before his eyes, and it was almost emotional to see.

Past lover Sukuna whose heart felt heavy from the weight of joy and relief that he felt. He finally reunited with his once-lost lover. The essence of her former life was fully restored once more as she was standing right next to him. It seemed unreal to see her with his own eyes – his beloved was back, at long last. The eternal years of hardship for the sake of his plan were finally worth it.

Current lover Sukuna whose fingers ran through the locks sprawled over his lap – calming the both of you to no bounds when his fingernails rake through your scalp. His free hand holding onto your wrist tightly, because he had to be sure no one would snatch you from his grasp a second time.

“I missed you so damn much…more than you could ever possibly imagine.”

Current lover Sukuna who finally admitted to his feelings for the first time in millennium, because he missed you more than anything in this infernal world.

Current lover Sukuna who admired you with a soft expression, shocked at how angelic you were even after a thousand years.

“You still look as gorgeous as you did a lifetime ago.” words dripping with genuine adoration as he gazed down at his wife.

Current lover Sukuna who wondered how that was possible in the first place. Surely, granting him access to a companion of your caliber – with such a pure heart and soul – was a mistake of some kind?

Current lover Sukuna who thought, “All is right in this world again.” to himself. Because it was. You were by his side once more – right where you belonged.

[astralis-ortus]

spoiled

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— it really is in the little things he does.

w.count → 0.5k genre → slice of life, fluff notes → chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as babe, teeny weenie kith a.n → been feeling sappy whenever i see chan, and what’s the best cure if not to write about it♡ ⋆ see masterlist

growing up, you never really thought much about relationships.

well, it's not like you had the breathing room to do so anyway—with your parents' strained relationship and the way education had taken over the role as your safe space, the thought about crushes, falling in love, and jumping from one relationship to another like people around your age had resembled more like some faint, annoying whispers from the nether world rather than something you needed to experience as a young adult. instead, your goal revolves simply around graduating, getting a good job, and sticking with that—nothing more, nothing less.

well, that's exactly what you've managed to do so far…

with some minor adjustments.

"babe, do you want—oh, you're about to shower?"

you stopped a few steps from the door of the bathroom, eyes finding your boyfriend's curious pair just beyond the bedroom door while your arms hugged the fresh pair of pyjamas and a fluffy towel chris had bought for you a few months prior, right before your first sleepover at his place.

it still feels wild to you, the way chris just popped into your life one day and somehow managed to stay. the fact that you let him? even wilder. never in a million years would you ever thought you'd walk into your first and somewhat of a serious relationship not long after landing your first actual job, fresh out of university.

"yeah," you nodded, repeatedly blinking your eyes out of habit, "do you need to go? i might take a while since i'm gonna wash my hair."

"no no, i'm good," he replied, no longer looking at you when he turned busy, fumbling away at the cabinet under his kitchen sink, "but wait, there's something i want—found it!"

the curiosity in your eyes turned into sparkles of surprise when you noticed the rather familiar bottle in chris' hand as he heads over in your direction, sweet pair of dimples decorating his proud, cheeky smile.

"i got that body wash you said you wanted to try," handing the green colored bottle, chris lightly scrunched his nose alongside the click of his tongue, "kinda unfortunate—i was going to surprise you with it, but you beat me to the shower."

it's at times like this when you feel like your life in the past year has merely been a series of lucid dreams—when he looked at you with so much tenderness in his eyes, when he treats you like you're his entire world and more, when chris went out of his way just to prove that he meant everything he whispered in your ears between the ungodly hours of the night as he held you close when nightmares crept its long and sharp nails around your neck.

chris' affection still feels like a fever dream, and you don't know if you deserve to be at the receiving end of it at all.

"you're seriously spoiling me way too much, christopher," you finally chirped a response, mirroring your boyfriend's nose scrunch whilst keeping your unspoken worries locked away, "but thank you. i promise i'll use it well."

"i know you will," the dimpled smile made its way back to your boyfriend's features, igniting the familiar fuzzy feeling in the depths of your chest, and its rumble only grew louder when chris leaned in, faint scent of vanilla greeted you as he stole a peck from your lips,

"you know that's why i love spoiling you, right?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[ghostaholics]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.

"Oh, yeah? What about?"

"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.

“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”

You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”

“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”

“I would.” More than he knows.

It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.

Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.

You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.

The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.

You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.

He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.

You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.

The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.

And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.

He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.

Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”

His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”

You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.

(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)

And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.

Of course, you take your job very seriously.

You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.

“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”

“The verdict, then?”

“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”

Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.

You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.

“You gonna treat me or what?”

Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.

The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.

Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.

“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”

But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”

You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.

You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?

But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.

“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.

He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.

After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.

Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.

And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.

“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.

Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - THE LOVE COOK

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : Sanji has always had an affinity for cooking but nothing could ever compare to cooking for you. But his plan backfires and he realizes he’s in for more than he bargained for.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. perv!sanji x dom!reader ; minor food play, handjob, minor cum play, lots of praise, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus, usage of good boy (once), — WC : 4.6k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waxing Crescent ! ꒱  — kinktober masterlist

Sanji's always had an affinity for cooking. Since he was young, his love for it wove into the depths of his very being, one of the things he greatly identified with. 

Under Zeff's vigorous training, the young cook fought to chase his passion, learning everything he could in what it meant to be a chef that was fit enough for the seas. And as time went on, it only strengthened. Year after year of trying new recipes, of feeding people who were hungry and above all, never wasting a drop — the bond grew along with him.

But as he got older, there was a new bonus for cooking. One that was filthy and always left him feeling like a perv, and yet — he couldn’t stop indulging himself.

Sanji really, really loved cooking for women.

It's honestly sinful how much he enjoys serving them food. How he makes sure his fingers grace their lap with a napkin — the fleeting touch of their thigh sending a thrill throughout his body, always ensuring to push in their chair a little too tightly so their chest presses against the table, and of course, feeding them a heartfelt compliment here and there while eating up their flustered state.

Every cook loves to see the reaction their food can evoke in people but Sanji takes it to a new level. 

Women ooh and aww over his cooking, after that first bite he can clearly see it written all over their beautiful face’s. The direct line of pleasure he supplied them effortlessly coating their features, eyes rolling to the back of their head at the divine taste of their favorite foods.

But the real treat is when he hears their moans of approval. Quiet, loud, breathless, guttural, he’s heard it all. It's only natural that he savors the sound in the deepest banks of his memory to touch himself to those keepsakes later, pairing it with their heavenly expressions as his fist closes around his cock.

So when he finally has you as his little taste tester, sitting across from him as he serves you, the game changes. Suddenly, all of the other women he’s served pale in comparison to your reaction.

The moment the dessert coated fork touches your mouth he can see the explosion of gratification before him and he counts every blessing he has front row seats.

The small smile that graces your face, licking the extra cream off your lips as if you couldn’t get enough, an elongated yet quiet hum followed by his name and whatever praise you had for him immediately had his cock swelling in his trousers, pushing against the tightness of the fabric.

For a breath, he was just as dazed as you, watching your signs of contentment, your taste buds positively satisfied with all the flavors he lovingly poured into the dish. 

But he needed more. 

He needed to hear your praise once again.

“You like it?” Sanji barely managed to ask, straightening up as he tried to hide his lower half behind the counter.

“Like it?” You swallow down the food, your pretty eyes meeting his and he feels as if he was brutally shot by cupid's arrow, headshotted and left without any hope of being saved. “I love it.”

Something electric buzzed in the room that felt far too foreign to Sanji. Compliments would always effortlessly spill from his lips as easy as breathing but the way you were looking at him whisked every last drop of air from his lungs, suffocating them with the addicting allure of your praise.

The roles were suddenly reversed and now you were the one who was eyeing him.

Stalking up like a panther ready to strike, you rise from your chair and make your way over to him with a dark look in your eye he hasn’t been privy to before. Each movement was dragged out, languid yet precise. Like this was the moment you had been patiently waiting for and the thought drove Sanji close to madness.

“Mon-cheri–” Sanji started as he backed up against the counter under the intense aura you were emitting. It wasn’t a well thought out plan as you begin to corner him, effectively catching him in your little trap. He can’t lie and say the energy didn’t excite him, but it was certainly unexpected. Far too long he had been pining over you, dreaming of a moment like this but now that it’s here, he’s not so sure what to do.

“You know what would make this taste even better?” A redundant question as you don’t give him a chance to answer. 

Taking your pointer finger, you gently scoop up some of the whipped cream off of the delicious pastry that Sanji had ever so graciously made for you. With a measured stroke, you glide his cherished creation down his neck, along his pulse point so you can feel how vigorously it races for you, his heart throbbing viciously against the chamber of his ribcage.

“W-what are you doing?” The question falls flat, dithery nerves striking up a cord within him that had him wanting to reach for his nearest cigarette to cope with the heart palpitations you were giving him with each move you make. “Wait, don’t waste it!”

“Waste it?” You tilt your head as you stand before him. His hands clutch onto the edge of the counter behind him in an attempt to steel himself. A soft puff of air caresses Sanji's skin moments before you lean in with your tongue peeking out of the confines of your mouth. dragging the pink muscle along his neck, you hum in approval at the sweet taste. “Just what I thought, even sweeter.”

His face burns red, the flames desperately licking at his cheeks under the sear of your compliments. Normally, he would be the one gifting them out, carried with a sweet melody of adoration. The energy he so readily gives out is now crashing back at him in full force and the poor cook can only tremble in anticipation. 

Sanji's eye pinches shut in hopes of taking a moment to gather himself. But you were equipped with another dose of admiration, ready to pour it over him until he felt drowned in affection.

“You have such a pretty face, Sanji.” You push his hair back, revealing both of his closed eyes. “And beautiful eyes, I wish you’d show them more.”

Your wish is his command after all.

Slowly, Sanji's eyes begin to open — showcasing the birth of a new day as he reveals the beautiful blue that pools in his irises. The kind that reminds you of the All Blue book he’s shown you countless times when the two of you would curl up together while keeping watch for the ship. But once they lock onto yours, they abruptly morph into the stormy seas of the new world, holding the utter excitement of uncharted territory that’s waiting to be claimed.

“What are you doing?” Sanji asks the question again.

“Nothing.”Your voice carries a silken lilt that smoothes over him like a balm.  “Nothing you don’t want me to do, at least.”

“Like what?” He breathes out. If it wasn’t for the close proximity due to you crowding him in the small corner of the kitchen, he doubts that you would’ve picked up on his shaky words.

“Oh Sanji,” The giggle that spills from your lips has his knees buckling, hands twitching to touch you and he swears he might fall over for a moment from the mountain of sheer desire he’s trying to hike through. “Don’t be so coy. You’re the one that’s always flirting with me ever since I joined the crew, did you not mean all the wonderful things you said?”

“O-of course I meant them!” Sanji's face becomes coated in a dark pink once again, the blush spreading throughout his cheeks as blood starts to drip from his nose. He quickly catches it with his hand, all too acutely aware of his traitorous body. “I'd never lie to you, my sweet.”

“Then don’t act so surprised.” Your hands slide up his arms, eyes intently watching him as he shudders under your touch. “And let me kiss you.”

Without another breath, lips softly collide. An explosion of shooting stars burst between the two of you as sparks caress your body. It's tender, unpracticed, and entirely wonderful. Utilizing small movements as you slowly figure out the rhythm of each other's mouths. How do his lips move? How do yours? How could they mold together so you can share the same breath?

After a few moments, you begin to gel against his – growing needier, craving more. Suddenly, the little pecks aren’t enough and your senses long to be invaded by everything that makes him up. 

So, you boldly take the first step, your tongue pokes out to trace along his lip, feeling him out while your taste buds engrave the flavor to memory. His tongue follows suit, the soft muscle touches yours and after that, you blur into each other.

Like waves that grace the shoreline, you find a steady tide of give and take — back and forth as you learn what he likes, what will draw him back in, what will pull him under your current. 

Following a steady motion that you two create together, your own song dedicated to your souls courting each other, dancing around feelings the other had been too scared to speak of.

Reluctantly, your lungs scream for reprieve so you pull apart, a thread of saliva connecting you as you pant heavily, breaths fanning each other's face.

Sanji’s blown out eyes are stuck on your lips and you realize that air be damned, nothing would nourish you more than the way he kisses every emotion he’s ever held for you against your lips, grabbing at you like you’re the very thing that’s keeping him tethered to this world.

Another collision and you’re back to it — more desperate than before. The few moments you went without him felt like eons and you had to make up for lost time. A reunion that proceeds past this lifetime, one that was premeditated as the connection only strengthens with each glide of your lips.

His tongue swirls around your own, hungered grunts breaking out from deep within his chest as he grows addicted to the way you taste. Hands grasping and pulling along your body as if he needed more, needing to fully melt into you.

And you’re more than ready to let him.

Leading him to the couch, he lands with a soft thud before you begin to straddle him. The anticipation drums in his ears, blood pumping at an abnormal rate as it figures out where to flow. So much has already pooled all the way to the tip of his cock, painfully pressing against the confines of his trousers. The rest threatens to gush from his nose at an alarming velocity and it’s taking everything in him to hold it back.

All of Sanji's muscles grow taut in an attempt to reign himself in, locked in place as he waits for you to make your move to do something that would hopefully help relieve him of this agonizing pressure. He was simply pretty putty that laid in your tender yet tantalizing hands, leaving you to pick him apart and shape him into whatever you wished for as long as you just kept playing with him.

“How pretty.” You coo as you get rid of his suit trousers, freeing his needy cock by sliding the fabric down his thighs a little. Through a practiced motion, you spit into your hand, wrapping it around his length to spread some more slick.

Sanji gasped, jaw hanging open once your fist closed around his leaking tip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

His face said it all — he was looking up at you with such awe and desire. The kind that made him think you strung up all the stars and moon just so the beams would cascade along your skin so beautifully — just as it is now.

Pockets of light illuminate you so he can see everything you’re doing through an ethereal filter that the heavens themselves must’ve constructed.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, jerking into your divine hand. The honey coated compliment was so sincere, genuine, uttered in a complete state of reverence. It melted your heart to see him still wanting to give so much even though your intention was to focus on him.

Sanji deserves to be worshiped. It’s something you’ve thought to yourself for quite some time. sure, he could be a bit much sometimes, going over the top with compliments and relentlessly chasing after women.

But after spending so much time at sea with him, you’ve started to peel back the layers behind the woman chasing persona he loves to wear so much. To the man who had unshakeable morals, who protected those who needed protecting, to feed every hungry person — friend or foe. 

Sanji has so much to give, so generous with all the love he holds in his body. The love he so desperately wants to receive back but hides it behind cheesy pick up lines that can be dismissed with a laugh. 

But enough was enough. It was Sanji's turn to be adored, to be told all the beautiful things about himself while you stroke his cock and coo at him until he spills all over your hand.

Which is exactly where you had him now.

“You’re so sweet, Sanji.” You pepper a kiss along his jaw and to his scruffy chin, wrist leisurely flicking as you hold his cock in your hands. It was pretty, which was fitting. Long with a tip so red you thought he might burst. Luckily, most of the blood stayed pumping between his thighs rather than from his nose. For now, at least.

“You’re the aah-“ His blonde locks toss as his head hangs back, heavenly bliss whirling around him as he curls his toes — trying not to cum so quickly. He was so sensitive but he wanted more, greedy for everything you were more than ready to give him. “Sweet one.”

“No, no, Sanji.” You lightly nibble on his ear and his hips stutter up with a loud groan. “You’re going to listen to me, okay? If you want me to keep going, you just have to sit there and be good for me. No complimenting me, no trying to please me, we’re focused on you right now, okay?”

Sanji didn’t know what to say. Primal instinct told him to sit there and be quiet but how could he when you were an angel sent down from heaven, just for him? The pleasure you were feeding a starving soul like him was too good to pass up.

“Okay.” He manages to choke out as his release pools deep into his gut, threatening to spill out everywhere. All he needed was that extra push.

“Good boy.”  The phrase falls out of your mouth like a purr and he immediately cums into your hand with a whine, biting his lip trying to stay quiet. You don’t stop your movements as you press your lips against his, swallowing his whimpers as you start to overstimulate him.

But you’re merciful, and you don’t want to punish him. The only thing on your mind is making him feel loved, feel wanted, feel adored. 

“Let me —” Sanji starts to move, adjusting himself to tuck his half-hard cock away.

“Ah, ah, ah.” The smirk that takes up your face was killer as you brought your messy hand toward your mouth. You make a small show of playing with it, feeling how sticky it was, how it ran down your finger before plopping it into your mouth. “Don’t want to waste any of it, right?”

Sanji couldn’t even speak, the words stolen right from the tip of his tongue as yours danced between your fingers, removing every trace of him. You move down to kneel in front of him, the gasp he lets out sending a shiver down your spine. Anticipation bubbling up inside of you as lust pools in your gut, starting to burn with need.

Holding his half-hard cock in the palm of your hand, you swirl your tongue around, cleaning up the residual mess he made with a few precise movements. You lick along the length, feeling him hardening under your ministrations.

It only encourages you to engulf him in your mouth, showing him how far you could take him down your throat. Sanji groaned in response, fingers digging into your hair as his thighs tensed.

Once you’re finished, you remove your own panties from under your skirt and climb into his lap to straddle him once again. 

“Sanji, you really are just so sweet.” You repeat your words from earlier, gliding your now bare, drooling cunt against his stiff cock, “Makes me want to eat you up.” You pause, sucking a mark along his neck before whispering in his ear. “…devour you.”

Sanji was truly at a loss for words. Always the one so readily equipped with a line to show his undying admiration was now struggling to string together a coherent thought as your slick started to cover him.

“Like look at these wondrous hands.” To make a point, you hold them up as you continue to grind against him. “Always providing for us, making the world's most delicious food and spoiling us to your heart's content.”

Tugging his hands, you make sure they cover your chest so he can get a proper squeeze in that causes his nose to drip yet again, his cock undoubtable leaking with more pre-cum.

“I'd do anything for you.” He whispers, thumbs gently brushing over your nipple. Sanji was eerily quiet for a moment as he caressed the plush of your flesh, transfixed on the sight before him. 

“Anything?” The question hangs in the air as you brush his bangs to the side. His slightly sweaty forehead helped keep some of the pieces tucked from his eyes, both of his eyebrows now on full display – just like you wanted.

“Anything.” He breathes the word out like a prayer, a promise that he’d never deny you of what you’d ask of him. 

“Are you ready for me?” Your thumb trails along his parted lower lip, his darkened eyes hazy with an overwhelming lust but entirely set on you.

“Please.” He moans as you line up your soppy entrance with his cock, slick with your saliva and twitching with need. 

“Anything for you, monsieur.” Slowly, you lower yourself on his cock, letting him feel every inch of himself bury into you at an agonizing rate. Your wet, welcoming walls greedily sucked him in, wrapping snuggly around him so tightly that his head grows blank. 

Sanji's moans fill the room, his hands gravitating toward your waist as if it was pulled by another force, thumbing circles against your skin. It's taking everything in him not to bury his fingers into you and slam you down onto his cock, letting the most primal part of him mount you and take you in a way that directly challenges his morals.

The pace catches him off guard, fingers quickly moving to dig into the scratchy fabric of the couch. It wasn’t enough to steady him, the precipice of his release hastily rising at a rate he could barely keep up with.

The way your warm walls constrict around him, enveloping him in a way that makes him think you never want to let go. He barely has enough strength to pound up into you, opting instead to capture your nipple in his mouth, latching on while his hand caresses your other breast.

Sanji has always had a silver tongue, able to sing the sweetest praise and compliments toward any woman within a 20 foot radius. But you never thought about how well his mouth would be used in other ways. His soft tongue caresses your pert nipple, hardened by the contact and the slightly chilly air in the kitchen.

Lithe fingers gently pinch your other one, before trailing down along your sides and slipping between your thighs to roll your neglected nub between his digits. The sudden pressure gives your body an electric jolt, lurching forward and pressing your chest into Sanji's face more. 

Each roll of your hips earned another tender groan from the man below you, lost in a haze as you continuously fed him the sin that he had been craving for as long as he can remember. He pulls back from between the valley of your breasts, looking up at you with hearts flitting around in his eyes, his cock twitching in tune with its beat.

“Want you to come for me, mon-cheri.” He releases his mouth from your breast, looking up at you, limbs still twisted around you as he drives into you harder.

“Yeah? Want me to come all over your pretty cock?” You mewl, pressing your body flush against his as your own thighs start to tremble.

“Yes, please! I need it, need to come with you.” Sanji’s voice almost cracks under the intensity, gripping onto your shaky thighs as he begins to meet you thrusts, fucking himself harder into you. Your body jiggled under the intensity, spiraling you to your high and threatening to unravel you to your very core if you let go. 

So you did – letting the blinding white wash over your vision, course and tremble through your body as he fills you up with ropes of cum. Sanji all but whined, biting his lip in pure ecstasy as he teeters over the edge of oblivion.

The two of you try to catch your breath, a pair of lovers leaning against each other more out of necessity than comfort – but it was welcomed nonetheless. Sanji drew little circles along your back, the glide of his fingers soothing you back down from your high. 

He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, moving you so you’re sitting on the couch, your head lolling to the back of it as you stare up at the ceiling.

Sanji shakily rises to his feet, swiftly moving toward the kitchen to get a fresh cloth to clean up the mess between your legs. But his keen eye spies something else that might serve more of a purpose right now.

“May I ?” Sanji asks, kneeling down from where you are sitting on the couch, gently wedding himself between your knees. Taking the whip cream he had swiped on his finger, he drags it along your inner thigh and throbs at the way you gasp in surprise.  “After all, I still haven’t gotten my own taste yet.”

“But I told you –”

“Oh sweetheart, I know what you told me,.” Sanji pries your legs open a little more, licking his lips as he takes in the way his cum is oozing out of your pulsing cunt. “Would you really deprive me of this?”

The sheer eagerness fills his eyes like wide saucers. The over enthusiastic man before you was more than ready to please you now, holding back this entire time as you had your way with him. He had been so patient that maybe he did deserve a reward.

“No.” Your voice is a little quieter yet filled with unbridled curiosity. The ghost of his tongue gliding over your nipples earlier resurfaces and you shudder in delight.

“Good, so good for me.” Sanji praises, licking up the stripe of frosting that laid defensively on your inner thigh, dragging it all the way to your cunt. The soft breathes from Sanji tickled at the sensitive flesh and had you trying to squirm away. But he had quick reflexes, gently digging in fingers into your hips and pulling them closer to his face. “Wouldn’t want to waste a drop.”

Sanji lapped at the cum dripping out from your entrance, ensuring to clean up all of the mess he left behind. The taste of your shared essence hit his taste buds and he swears he’s never tasted anything better. Groaning into your cunt, he clutches onto your plushy thighs and begins to eat you out like a starved man.

The vibrations from his guttural grunts directly attack your clit. The hot flash of pleasure coursed through your veins, spreading along to every nerve that was attached to your body, singing out in ecstasy as your thighs began to tremble and lock around his head.

For added leverage, you weave your fingers through the soft, pretty strands of his blonde hair, tugging on them like reins that will steer you right to the climax you were steadily building towards.

“‘m close.” You gasp, not giving him a chance to move his head as he’s locked in. But you don’t hear one noise of complaint – instead, it was just another groan of approval that ripped through your body and pushed you towards the edge. 

Stars burst behind your eyes, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Sanji worked you through your orgasm, squeezing out all the pleasure before overstimulation started to bite at you. Using his hair, you pull him apart from your sensitive cunt. The blissed out smile on his face no doubt mirrored your own. 

“magnifique.” Sanji breathed out, watching as your chest heaves under the fight to catch your breath, your lungs desperately gulping down air as it took everything in you to float back down from your high. He leaves a  wake of gentle kisses along your inner thigh paired with the soft praises he coos at you. “The heavens orchestrated this moment for us, my own little angel coming down to save me.”

Sanji places one last kiss on your knee, tempted to go all the way down your leg and worship every inch of your skin. He rises back up, grabbing the cloth he had originally set out for and returns back before humming a tune that you hadn’t heard before.

“What’s that song?” you ask softly, body twitching in anticipation as Sanji runs the cool cloth between your legs and being very careful not to overstimulate you. Too much. His eyes flash up towards yours once you speak, his attention always set on you no matter what task he’s working on. This was no exception.

“There used to be a beautiful singer that would visit the Baratie when I was younger. She’d come in every few weeks and sing for everyone there.” He goes on to tell the story while still cleaning you up, kissing every freckle and mole he can spot as the cloth tenderly glides along your skin. “She sang many songs but this one was my favorite. It was a love song that told the story of a couple who longed to find adventure together, going as far as transcending time and space to meet each other in every life.”

“That's lovely.” You give a small smile as he finishes. Sanji reaches for your panties, sliding them back up your legs before it’s back where it belongs. His palms caress down your thighs as he rises back up, pressing a warm kiss against your forehead that made your head all fuzzy.  “I've never heard you sing before.”

“Then you should come into the kitchen more often while I’m cooking, Mon-Cheri. I'm always humming a tune.” His thumb trails along your bottom lip – mesmerized at how swollen and kiss-bitten it was. You push forward, giving it the slightest amount of pressure as you return the favor. 

“Maybe I will.” Sanji gives you a little wink, stepping back for a moment as he fishes through his pockets to find what he’s looking for.

“It would be my greatest honor to have the most beautiful person in all of the seas accompany me during my tedious tasks.” Sanji flashes his most charming smile before he places a cigarette in his mouth and sets it aflame with his trusty gold lighter. “Now, let’s have you finish your sweet treat so I can indulge in mine again after.”

tags : @ambiguouslady42 ᡣ𐭩

[wandagcre]

i got what you need | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

You're walking on eggshells with Wanda. She's unaffected and you're confused. It doesn't help that your encounter with your best friend unraveled new sensations for you, that it made your small break a huge challenge as you spend it with her.

WARNING: jealous!wanda, corruption kink, defiling childhood bed (r), dirty talk, degradation, almost fingering while in front of other people, perverted actions: using inanimate objects as plushie and hairbrush for sex, unconsented pictures, guilt-tripping, steve and tony as your parents bc why not | +18 men & minors dni. Words: 5.1k Notes: i'm back, kinda! i hope everyone enjoys this :3

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Your best friend, who lent a helping hand – pun intended – is coming home with you during your break. 

While you were beyond appreciative, you were nervous more than anything on how to act normal while being on the receiving end of Wanda’s affection without the flashes of the sensual touches and little adventures she took you on. It played like a crazy loop in your mind. Not only that, but it definitely shed a light on your feelings for the woman. You’re certain now that you like her more than a crush, more than as a friend.

Wanda revolved tenfold inside of your mind. Your little thoughts grew into a garden of filth, her consummate touch and moans playing like a broken loop – distinct and even agonizing.

You can’t help but worry still. Sure, Wanda has been increasingly affectionate – you didn’t even know that was possible. She barely let you go and her stares that lingered weren’t that slick even to your own observation – yet, you weren’t sure how Wanda feels about it. She never spoke about it, even after blowing the fuck out of your mind…

Little did you know, Wanda had a lovestruck fool of a grin on her way to her room, after accompanying you back to your own. You were a blushing mess, both hearts pounding as you walked through the carpeted halls, your best friend truly lived up to her words – expanding your horizon of taste when it comes to bed activities. 

It was a torture to still feel Wanda’s fingers exploring your depths, her coaxing tone clear as a day, all while she brought you to a high you’ve never had before.

Shortly after, you went back to your normal routine. Your smile was wide as ever, Wanda mirroring yours with her head against the doorframe, checking you out from top to bottom. The thump on your chest didn’t ebb when she met you for a study session.

There was enough space between the two of you, and it’s safe to say how it was unnerving and Wanda didn’t like it one bit. Why were you holding back?

The chair creaked as she moved it closer to you. 

“I can’t do this,” Wanda whispered vulnerably, slamming her book close which startled you. One moment she was busy flipping through the pages as you, who tried so hard to contain the thoughts, and suddenly you feel Wanda’s breathing by your side.

“What?” Was all you could say until you saw her head tilted and unmistakably leaned closer to you – feeling her soft lips pressed against your chapped ones, her scent washing over your senses. 

The action was so chaste that it made Wanda feel her stomach flutter. You held her waist tenderly and gave her an eskimo kiss. She smiled at the contact and the woman was wrapped up into a softness she loved about you. It slightly made Wanda feel ashamed of her dirty thoughts. 

All it took was for her to recuperate her mind and look down to your v-neck shirt that emphasized your breasts and made Wanda’s mouth water. You met her in a liplock, hers filled with an edge of roughness and wanting that churned up your resolve. She’s fast and devouring your pretty lips, that it wasn’t long before you caved in to Wanda’s frantic touches and she adored how you tried to keep up with her. Your best friend made sure you remember the traces she left you, reigniting the rush from the other night.

It honestly brought you to a point of being overwhelmed. The questions rattled you and Wanda can feel the gears turning in your head. Nothing else happened but her words struck you. 

“Don’t you dare leave in the morning.” She muttered while caressing your nape, her arm snaked around your mid waist as if you were to disappear in thin air. And so you didn’t. 

You woke up embarrassingly wet again. Was it the flashbacks? Had Wanda spilled her drink in the bed again? Or perhaps it was the so-called discharge you’ve learnt from her? You immediately fled from the scene, timidly asking Wanda for set of new clothes you could borrow.

Each day progressed badly. You remained baffled at the events even more that it led you to slowly slip away from your closeness and routine. It aggravated the woman, you can see her neat eyebrows crease every time you made up a poor excuse. Though, you were thinking that it’s Wanda; beautiful and you didn’t have an inch of worth to her standards. Whatever that relapse was, it bothered you. 

Meanwhile, Wanda was motivated to get you both out of this funk.

Though, you rushed out of your dorm that made Wanda’s beautiful emeralds become puzzled as soon as you saw her in front of your doorstep, holding a paper bag full of love – her words, not yours. You can’t help but internally coo at her effort, which made you act before you even think of it. All you did was leave a kiss on her soft cheek and left her with nothing but a cryptic reply of meeting a friend.

It was a whiplash to the two of you. You weren’t this impulsive and intimate; while a part of Wanda is appreciative, reddened with your initiative, she was unaware what was the pushing force. Especially when you have been practising unspoken boundaries for the past few days – now she has to overthink who was this friend you speak of.

Were you hanging out with someone new? The girl from the library whom you shared a table with and constantly smiled at you, maybe the one who was too touchy and friendly with you at your student org? Her mind ran for miles. Was that what you craved? A new thing that could offer much more? Wanda huffed in disagreement. She doubts that someone else can be better than her.

There Wanda was, struck, a little humiliated and crestfallen. It felt like you were teasing her. The frustration builds up her chest as the woman couldn’t do her usual moves to you as workload took both of your time. 

As much as Wanda possessed and adored her collection of erotic polaroids that contained you, nothing could beat the real thing now. Not when she successfully coaxed you to open Pandora's box – the memory of you riding her pillow to the brink of wetness and first orgasm, how she luckily had another time with you, still anew to her perverted mind.

She’ll make sure to make you pay back for this.

Around noon, you met up with your best friend. You guys were still following through your original plans for the break – your filthy rendezvous be damned. Zipped up in her black sweater, her denim jeans and chunky shoes. To your surprise, the emerald eyes were already looking at you. Your lips were caught in a twist, looking away in embarrassment.

“You’re barely covered up.” She nods over you, her tone amused.

It caught your attention. “Why? Doesn’t it look good?” You’re clueless, doing a small twirl for your best friend and self-consciousness has begun to eat you. 

“Great. Wonderful, actually.” Wanda’s rasp stoked something in you, making your eyes quickly flit in her direction only to be met with dilated pupils that raked over your figure – one you were acquainted with. “But look at the skies, it could rain.” 

You looked up at the gray clouds and shrugged. “We have your car. We’ll be fine, Wands.” 

She concedes and it falls silent. Being in her car was the closest you two have been besides the previous incident. Though it was awkward for you, Wanda looked just fine. You stole glances of her side profile every now and then as she inspected her stuff in the visor and glove compartment. A small smile escapes your lips as you see the little trinkets you gifted her proudly displayed on her dashboard and still thoughtful as ever, Wanda adjusts the car’s AC towards you. She smelled wonderful, the awareness of your Wanda-deprivation kicking in.

“Where were you?” Wanda finally asks. Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “When you, uh, kissed me on the cheek. You seemed to be in a rush.” She clarifies with an adorable blush on her face. That was new.

Your eyes fluttered rapidly, not meeting the woman’s inquisitive green eyes – a telltale sign of you hiding something.

“Um, just ran some errands.” You sheepishly reply.

Wanda merely hummed in disbelief. She leaned to your side, fastening the seatbelt for you. 

“Uh-huh. And I’m not buying that, you know?” Her honeyed voice washed over your neck so lightly, making you suck your breath in. It doesn’t help that you feel Wanda’s hand clasped and brushing over your front. “You suck at lying. What’s bothering you?”

“Let’s… let’s not talk about it right now, Wands.” How odd, Wanda thought. Still, her mission of riling you up was on the move and this motivated her even better.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek in disappointment. You’re lucky that she loves challenges and she’s nothing but persuasive. 

She sighed, letting go of the topic for now. “Okay.” Wanda will crack it out of you.

The pitter patter of your heart only grew with Wanda's feather-like touch, the woman softly hummed along the songs in your playlist. You're graced with her perfect side profile that your eyes cannot help but flicker back and forth, from her eyelashes up to her plump red lips and the slight movement of her wetting them with her tongue. It didn't take long for your mind to get sucked in flashbacks; how they felt against yours and the expanse of your skin...

“Are you alright? You look a little flushed, dorogaya.” Wanda murmured. 

Your breath hitched and both your hands were gripping onto the seatbelt across your chest, the need to lessen your lightheadedness constantly increasing. 

“We’re visiting your home to relax, (y/n/n). Maybe I can help you to de-stress again.” The woman feigned innocence in her words. You didn’t pick it up but she knew your mind was running a mile, recalling how good her definition of ‘de-stressing’ was.

How your best friend took you carnally on her bed… twice. At least the ones you remembered.

“Like a massage?” Your voice cracked, looking unsure over Wanda.

A devious smile is painted on her face. 

“Sure, something like that.” 

After a few hours, the two of you pull up into your hometown’s driveway. There’s a newfound feeling that stirred between you two after that life changing event – albeit Wanda coming over wasn’t exactly foreign, it felt as though your relationship progressed further.

Like she wasn’t here as your best friend, but something more. That had you nervous like a hopeless teenager again, barely normal around the woman you’re crushing into.

She was greeted with shoes being left on the doorstep and saw the picture frame that she cannot help but coo at each time she sees it. You look away which only tugged at Wanda's heartstrings. She pulled you close for a side hug. You were so fucking adorable. Both of you arrived at your hometown near dinner time and the more Wanda sees the parts of your house, her excitement grows more to finally see the room you grew up in.

Amongst other things…

Your best friend naturally takes the seat beside you. It was getting harder for her to restrain herself as she saw your outfit that went along with the breeze of the night. You changed into comfortable shorts and an oversized shirt, a contrast with your mostly covered self at the dorms.

Wanda’s eyes kept fleeting over the bits of your exposed skin and the whiff of your scent and lotion that got into her senses.

She absolutely cannot control herself.

“How's university life treating you, honey?” Steve asked, turning the rotating table on your way. It brought Wanda back to reality as seeing you shift uncomfortably in your seat, for a split second you halted on taking a spoonful of the meal. You were not willing to unpack the stress that you momentarily left miles away.

Wanda senses it and bites onto the opportunity of lending a supportive touch on your arm – a comfort to you and for herself. She orbits around you at this point and one thing Wanda knows well is the feeling of handling it on your own. 

“She’s wonderful. This one is always trying her best at all times, sometimes I find her sleeping at her study table. I have to find ways for her to relax on multiple occasions.” Wanda smoothly took over with a charming smile.

Suggestiveness may not have been your strongest suit, but you learned enough from your best friend by this time enough to be nervous to the next words she was about to drop. You remember the ungodly activities that only your dorm can ever know. How uninhibited you were under Wanda’s voice and touch… the floating and inexplicable sense of relief that it gave you.

You feel your palms sweat. “No need to tell them all that, Wands,” You quickly chewed on your food, feeling slightly bothered.

“All I’m saying is I make sure (y/n) over here is in good hands. She keeps me grounded and I intend to return that gesture as well.” The grin on Wanda’s face was seeping through her tone. “She’s… quite a hard worker. Always deep once she’s locked in the learning zone.” 

While you knew what she meant – you’re thankful that your fathers only took her words with a sweet smile as they listened intently with hands clasped at the table, taking Wanda's words as a reassuring reminder that you weren’t alone.

Conversations occurred again and it somehow led to a fit of chuckling and sounds of agreement at the dining table with more stories of your other dad, Tony's raging party days – refined into an appropriate storytelling, of course with your Pa Steve around – telling you the do’s and don'ts, and Wanda’s caresses had progressed into tiptoeing across your arm, then placing her hand atop of yours. She takes it as a win when she sees your slumped shoulders become less tense.

Among all things, you haven’t noticed Wanda's eyes that raked over your legs right now. She tunes out a little. As much as she loved being in this opportunity with you, your bestfriend still craved you and you were there, unknowing. Hers for the taking. She couldn’t help but ogle at your thighs through your short jeans, exposed before her own eyes, and clearly recalling how addictive they were to caress and mark.

Hands slithered on your left thigh, a ghosting touch that was beginning to rile you up. Wanda was on a mission to grip you softly by your thigh. It made you visibly hitch your breath, making Wanda chuckle. It made you flustered, hands tense around the utensil and so was the muscle of your thighs. Your best friend notches it up, feeling her fingertips stroke on your plush inner thigh. She feels so warm over your cold skin. Dangerously near your core. You’re familiar with it now – sensing the overflowing need and desire in Wanda’s grasp over you.

You gave her a pointed look. What was the point of this? You didn’t want your parents to catch you. It was beyond exhilarating. “Wanda, what’re you up to?” You utter close, only audible for her to catch.

“Nothing.” She shrugged as though her actions weren't anything scandalous.

By gods, Wanda cannot wait to have her hands and lips all over you again.

After the weird encounter you had at the dining table with Wanda, you both changed into indoor clothes. Nothing is ever that too normal with Wanda, you suppose. God, the teasing! It was torture. You were close to combusting into a mortifying pool of distress and lust – perhaps it was Wanda’s plotting all along because of the unwipeable grin etched on her gorgeous face.

She playfully (or so you hoped) suggested taking a shower together but you became a mess at the thought alone, you were stammering and barely making eye contact in front of your best friend. Wanda seemed to take mercy and left you to gather yourself, but not without a kiss on your cheek and a light slap on your ass.

Almost like she was mocking you for the same thing you did a few days ago.

She was cuddled up to your side, mindlessly tracing your arm and the soft skin of your slightly exposed stomach. The bed was better than the one from your dorms, offering a decent space for the two of you. Even enough for some of your plushies to lay in. It was driving her to the wall, looking at your fitted shirt that emphasized the swell of your breasts nicely, and the sweatpants combo that you wore for tonight. To Wanda’s mind, it was like you paraded yourself like fresh meat for her, ready to be taken once again. Your free hand stroked her brunette hair as the movie played on the television in front of you, occasionally pulling back when your phone rang. 

You hear Wanda huff ever so lightly beside you at the divided attention she was getting. 

“Just some project stuff,” You lean your phone to Wanda’s eyesight for affirmation. The group chat came into her view.

Her eyebrows creased once again. “At this hour?” 

“Yep. Probably overthinking. More than me, which is surprising.” You humorously said to ease her protective nature and thankfully, Wanda snorted at. 

“Hmm. Don’t respond now,” Wanda whispered as she burrowed her face on the crook of your neck. “You smell so good.”

You smiled nervously. Her breath tickled against your skin. “You smell just the same. Well, you used the same products as I did…”

You were talking nonsense out of nervousness, she could tell. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t call you out. You typed away, itching to wrap the conversation and enjoy your time with your best friend. Wanda can see it from the way you responded, she was so proud that it filled her with delight. She’s happy to know that a time with her was a bigger priority.

Underneath the light interaction, there was the desire that continues to brew in the pit of Wanda’s gut. She couldn’t do anything for now. As much as she wanted to stay up, the driving tired her out. So Wanda rested her eyes for a couple of minutes, hugging your bunny plushie.

Until there was a sigh of content that stirred Wanda to wake into consciousness.

Her brain didn’t register it for a few seconds. It continued, so pitiful and mewl-like. That can’t be right. She paled in realization. When Wanda woke up, she caught your hand in the cookie jar – the arched neck and eyes screwed shut, biting your bottom lip to suppress the moans. God, Wanda raked over your exposed legs and halfway pulled down underwear, as though you were so desperate — in a rush to touch yourself.

“And you were going to invite me, when?” You turn your head too quickly at the sound, you pull your fingers back like you were burned, eyes flutter just as rapidly.

“I didn’t think–”

“Clearly you weren’t. Touching yourself like a whore that wasn’t treated properly,” She snarked back. “You could’ve asked me this – days ago – and I would gladly give it to you, dorogaya. Now tell me, what were you thinking about?”

She scooted closer to you, on her knees and Wanda’s brunette hair still messy yet beautifully cascading. Her green eyes were filled with nothing but mirth. 

“I didn’t know what to think about… it was better when you, um, led me a few weeks ago. I mindlessly just went for it,” Your center was wet, Wanda notices, but not as it was when she was deep in you a few nights ago when you were fast asleep.

“See how much you need me? That’s why you should’ve told me. Instead of roping me into a limbo with you.” Wanda settled between your legs. You audibly groaned when she took off your underwear, your legs feeling less restricted. “Maybe you need to be taught another lesson.”

She sees you visibly gulp. Your throat felt dry all of the sudden. “W-whatever you think is best for me, Wands.”

“Best for you, huh.”

She called you a whore but it didn’t phase you that much. You suppose it was the truth, no decent woman would touch themselves with their best friend innocently laying beside them. Wanda loved seeing your doe eyes. So compliant, the fear of being punished and talked down while simmering in careless yet a raunchy act reeled her in the most filthy thoughts once again. 

“Did you get your fingers nice and wet?” 

“Y-yes,”

“You sucked them good enough for me?” The thirst was unmistakable in Wanda’s saccharine tone that made you drip every second in your underwear.

She saw your inner thigh muscles become tense, as though you were grounding your mind, preparing for what was about to come. You hesitantly nod – embarrassed that even in suppression of your feelings, Wanda remained as the star of your lust and pent up desires. Maybe honesty will serve you well.

She pinned your wrists above your head. It embarrassingly made your back arch at the slight recoil due to the firmness of her grip and action. You were cruel for igniting a spark of hope, the icing of it all she got was a random kiss on the cheek. Wanda had enough of playing nice. 

“We’ll start with the game of truths before you get rewarded. Is that fair enough for a whore like you?” The term rattled you – oddly in a good way. It sent you on a submissive headspace, being degraded by a different version of Wanda was satisfying. It made your stomach do flips and your cunt pounding. “Tell me who was the friend you met up with.”

It caught you off-guard. You feel bad at the realization that Wanda was racking her mind over it.

The friend in question was no other than her own brother. You wanted clarity on Wanda’s headspace, how to woo her, how the woman was like when it comes to… relationships. Naturally, her twin Pietro came to your mind. You spoke of your conundrum but nothing more than that – you can never share whatever happened in the dorms, of course.

“It was Pietro,” Your voice cracked at the confession. “I had some questions to ask about you.”

Wanda's fingertips skimmed over your ribs, trailing lower. Your breasts were practically begging to be groped – the way it flopped perfectly as you laid down. Did you say it was about her? She muses what it could've been about. She doesn't like being excluded from it.

"You're already with the better Maximoff twin. You should have asked me instead, whatever it was. I thought I was your favorite," Your bestfriend said, hurt. She caressed your knee and the action sent tingles right up your southern part. You shivered in pleasure. “My brother always gets everything. He can’t have your attention as well.”

You didn’t Wanda to misconstrue things from here on. "I know and you are, Wands! But it was about relationships, I wanted to know if uh, you were in one from the past and what you think of them,”

It seemed to do the trick, her aura calming down at your words.

“Let me get this straight, you wanted to know if I fucked someone before and if I’m a girlfriend material, so to say?” It was shameful when she said it out loud. Like you were frenzied to know Wanda outside of her comfort, making you avoid eye contact. "Oh dorogaya. If you wanted me, you already had me from the beginning. I'm definitely your girlfriend now." 

Wanda has a devious smirk. It warmed her heart you consulted her twin and she basically had your mind hostaged. The smell of your arousal though was affecting her slowly.

She continued, “You left me high and dry. Do you think that’s fair for me, dorogaya?” Wanda raised an eyebrow, her tone condescending.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s always like that. You know I would never do you wrong, yet still…”

“I-I’m sorry,” You repeat hopelessly. “How can I make it better, Wands?”

She gave your mound a slap. Hard enough to startle you, yet your hips chased and bucked for more of Wanda’s touch.

“We can start with a few things. I wanna know if you used something else other than your fingers when you first explored masturbation.” Wanda wanted you to sit uncomfortably in your hole of shame it seems. 

Her dexterous fingers bristled with intent, sensual and motivated to turn your gears. Wanda’s finger pads skimmed on your folds, just above the surface. Albeit each stroke did not come with force, it didn't stop you from slowly spreading your legs apart further and further.

"You just can't help it, hm?" Wanda’s eyes darkened when a sheer wetness covered her fingers. “Maybe it was mister bunny over here. Have you thought about grinding your pretty cunt against this soft plushie?” You breathed rapidly at the implication, heat spreading at the tips of your ears.

Wanda held the toy by its neck, the face of the innocent bunny being rubbed at your bare skin. It descended from your mound to your cunt. When you attempted to shut your legs at the teasing, she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, unamused as your erotic mewls of desperation bounced off the four walls. 

You felt the fur of the material, getting tainted by the sinful act. Wanda stretched your folds as she dug the toy deep as it could get, rubbing it back and forth. You closed your eyes as you reel at the foreign sensation, it tickled you – almost near as grinding over Wanda’s pillow – remembering her words; gyrating your hips, letting your weight fall completely. To simply feel. So near your clit. But it was futile with its barely cuddle size.

“No, I’ve never,” You breathlessly reply, on edge. 

A smirk fell onto her lips. “But you enjoyed that, didn’t you? I don’t think you used it either. It’s too small for someone as needy as you. You’re a big girl who wants a big reward,”

The striking difference of Wanda was moving you in ways you never thought it could. She was unnerving and demeaning, yet it was palpable with pleasure. You look over your side – the nightstand. Wanda follows your line of sight and it clicks to her what the object was.

“You used this?” Wanda humorously says, her green eyes dilating further. She held your hair brush, right at its bulbous tip and it made you feel so ashamed. “So adorable. I can definitely see you fucking yourself with this. Some good old penetration. Now, open your legs wide for me.”

You hesitantly spread them. Wanda clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, looking at the hot mess that you were. She went in slow with your pretty, wet hole intruding with the bulbous tip that you haven’t felt for a while. You felt the impatience in Wanda’s motions, pushing and pulling until all of its length was inside of you. Granted, it wasn’t much, but it stimulated you nonetheless.

Oh, it drove Wanda crazy.

“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you with a better toy,” She pushed the tip and you feel her tongue flattened, licking across your neck. A better toy? You wondered for a brief second. “A double-ended strap. A slut like you would enjoy a pleasurable length and girth, I can tell. Now say it how bad you want it,”

“I’m–I need you so bad, Wands!” You whined with bucked hips. "O-oh! Please, please. Wands..." You grasped on her nape and peered over the unrecognizable emerald eyes. 

Her pupils blown, cheeks visibly flushed, and holding you tighter by your love handles. You bucked your pelvis by instinct and it made Wanda sport a knowing smirk before latching her lips onto yours; a kiss fueled with rough need. Her thrusts with the hair brush’s tip didn’t falter. She thrived on this sight of yours.

Wanda shushed you. She roughly pulls you by the cheek, only to give you the softest kiss to the expanse of your tense jaw – slowly easing to her ministrations. Yet again, you have fallen under her spell. Was it the dark or lightness you see; that, you can’t quite figure it out. But you know that you craved Wanda just as much.

She pulled the bulbous tip away, rubbing the length across your slit. It progressed harder right on your throbbing clit.

"Please, please.” She mocks you. You squirm and feel the soft sheets rustle against you. “Be patient, dorogaya. This isn't meant to be fun for you. Can you imagine how torturous it has been for me for a month? I'm simply walking you through it, baby."

Your spine arched until your front chest met Wanda's clothed own and it naturally gravitated in return, making your bodies pressed in heat. She feels the tip of your nipples, all pebbled that she can’t resist but suck on them, giving them ample attention.

Even when Wanda slowed down her ministrations, it didn’t help with the pressure she applied over your clit. You feel her in circles and all determined, your legs spasming and arms slung around her, wanting to hold something to gravitate you through this fucking.

Wanda’s grip over you was strongly reminiscent of a leash; you’re whining like a hopeless puppy. Cheeks heating up as you squirm.

What else is there to detest? Wanda is here touching you in all the right ways. You beam at her all eager, like the woman has shown you colors you never thought ever existed. You felt the familiar release that sent your body and mind into cloud nine with Wanda slumped over your body. She kissed your forehead and during the moment of you temporarily passing out, you saw a flash of something flicker for a second.

She took pictures of your fucked out face.

You felt something that was poking your lips apart. You opened them mindlessly, soon it registered that Wanda had inserted the hair brush’s tip – she wanted you to clean it off. And so you did, putting up a best attempt to suck them off dry. You tasted sweet and salty. It felt raunchy and dirty… how her mind worked when it came to lust, you were certain that Wanda was a succubus sent to devour you and your well of innocence.

Wanda ravished you thoroughly. She took off her own clothing, deciding that she’ll have her time of pleasure later on. Who knows, maybe she’ll introduce you to tribbing. Imagining your determination of wanting to please her, grinding harder against her cunt – Oh how it excited Wanda now that you were hers.

“Next time you want something, just tell me.”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[skzdarlings]

i do ; skz ; felix x reader

requested by anonymous: ' I would love if you could use these prompts...on Felix x fem reader:❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜I love possessive Felix, istg i would give amything to have him' plus two anonymous requests for: 'i'd say you need someone to put you in your place' for felix.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: look this request was for possessive!felix and so possessive!felix i delivered. he is a little weirdo in this tbh. but i think after all my anti-rich-guy stories, i have earned the right for one problematic possessive mafia boss who throws his money and his dick around hahaha. so yes, possessive!felix, virgin!reader, wedding night, arranged marriage, felix being a criminal boss, insta-love. reader's backstory involves a verbally abusive/neglectful family. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Your new husband is astoundingly pretty.   You expected a different face to be waiting at the end of the wedding aisle: harsh, old, scarred.  Maybe, if you let yourself fantasize, he would be handsome in a rugged way. 

You were not expecting Felix.  Slender, delicate Felix with his high cheekbones and freckles, his dark eyes and feather-soft blonde hair.  He smiled a dimpled smile as your father surrendered your hand. 

That surrender was a visual representation of a literal transaction.  You were a bartering tool to save your father’s business.  You knew an arranged marriage was inevitable when a few trades went sour and the company went bankrupt.  The family could only maintain relevancy and safety through a match to someone more powerful. 

Lee Felix is the heir to a very dirty criminal syndicate that blends in high society.  Everyone knows their money is blood-spattered, but they throw a good party and the jewels sparkle the same.

You knew his name long before the wedding.  Of course you knew his name.  But you did not know his face.  You expected a devil, not a vision of divinity, resplendent in white and gold. 

Your heart has not stopped racing since he first lifted your veil and kissed you with lips softer and gentler than your grandest fantasies. 

Now you are perched on a lavish bed in a beautiful penthouse suite.  The walls are windows, externally tinted but offering you a glorious view of the glittering cityscape at night.  You wonder how much of the city your new husband owns. 

Would that be an impertinent question?  It is not as though there is any real charade to play; this is not a love match and there is no sense pretending otherwise.  Enquiring after financial assets is arguably appropriate insofar as business goes. 

Then the door opens and your new husband enters.  All thoughts of business flitter into nothing, an insignificant detail next to your wedding night.  A night with this powerful and beautiful stranger.

“Are you nervous?” he asks in a voice so deep it keeps surprising you.  It suits his angelic appearance in a way, something so captivating about its low tones, effortlessly melodic.  But that melody is coloured darkly in its depth, scratching a shiver up your spine.  When he speaks, it feels like he is trailing his fingers up your back in a curious, searching touch. 

He looks at you with as much depth, dark eyes penetrating as he circles the bed.  He has been nothing but polite, but you can’t help but feel like prey being circled by a predator. 

Even more concerning, you can’t help but like it.  Since the moment he took your hand, his eyes have not left you.  It is almost overwhelming.  You have been invisible your whole life.  No one ever looked at you.  No one ever wanted you.  Your father scared off anyone who tried. 

Felix is not just anyone.  Anyone sensible would be scared of him.

You are also not just anyone. 

“No,” you answer.

“Really?”  He lifts a curious eyebrow. 

You are both in your wedding clothes, all white and gold.  Your veil is draped over a chair in the corner.  He puts his coat there too. 

He never looks away from you, rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms as he approaches the bed.

“May I ask, why not?” he asks.  It’s a funny question, so polite but only posed because he knows his own reputation.  He knows what you must think of him.  The bloodshed, the ruthlessness, the merciless command he holds over his family’s legacy.  He might look unassuming, but he is not to be trifled with.  That gentle exterior could be unnerving to some people, even more than an outward brute. 

But you have dealt with those brutes your whole life.  An abusive father, cruel brother, an uncaring mother.  Hurt, neglected, ignored. 

Tonight, while you circled the reception to greet everyone, your father and brother pulled you aside.  Your mother had already berated you on the details of your appearance, but they were reprimanding you for every other misstep.

You almost burst into tears, tired and frightened.  You were so afraid you would never escape them.  Even at your wedding, on the cusp of a new life, they were dragging you around, kicking and screaming.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder.  Bang Chan, one of Felix’s most trusted agents, stood there with a forced but cordial smile.  He looked at you and not your family. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said.  “Your husband is asking for you.  Please, come with me.”

Your father sputtered indignantly, unaccustomed to such blatant disrespect for his authority.  Chan said nothing to him, simply offered you his arm.  He also opened his jacket to flash the gun in his chest holster.  Your family had their weapons stripped before entering the reception.  It was a subtle reminder of who was really in charge. 

So your father and brother were left sputtering helplessly as Chan escorted you across the room.  Felix was sitting with some of his men, smiling his bright smile and looking like any happy young groom. 

That sunny face faltered when he saw your morose expression.  His glance passed to your family, a flicker of anger in his gaze.  Then he smiled at you and held out a welcoming arm. 

“Come here,” he said.  “Sit with me a bit.  Please.” That deep voice.  You felt it like a touch inside you. He had recited the scripted vows earlier.  This invitation was his first real address. 

You nodded.  Your legs were shaky from the confrontation, never mind the wobble from your heels.  Your feet hurt.  Sitting would be a relief if nothing else. 

There was an empty seat behind Felix.  It was the type of seat you were usually given: at the back where you could be forgotten. 

Once you were within reach, Felix grabbed you around the waist.  Your breath caught as you stumbled towards him.  He caught you and held you.  Then you were sitting in his lap, your dress draped everywhere, a glittering ivory prize perched safe and pretty on his knee.  He wrapped a possessive arm around your middle. 

It was more than a power play.  It was one thing to put you on his lap and show your family that he owned you now, but it was another for him to frown as he touched the painfully tight pearl belt around your waist. 

“Why is this so tight?” he asked, looking at you with concern.     

“I’m sorry,” you said automatically, in the habit of grovelling whenever someone took a disappointed tone.  “My mother,” you spoke softly, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. 

He leaned closer to you, offering you his ear directly.  A whisper was all you managed, unaccustomed to such attention.

“They’re real pearls,” you whispered.  “Very expensive.  Very fine.  Too fine for me.  My mother had the belt made small so I would remember to act worthy of them.  Sit straight.  Not over-eat.  You know.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing.  Instinct compelled you to soothe that displeasure, laughing like you were not upset.

“It’s all right,” you said.  “She’s right.  They are very fine pearls.”

“It’s not all right,” Felix said.  He looked at you, held your gaze in his own.  You found yourself counting his freckles.  “Do you like it?” he asked. 

Maybe it was his display of power.  Maybe it was his arm around you.  Maybe it was the freckles.  He looked so sweet, so sincere.  You could not bring yourself to lie.  Though you had defended your cruel family all your life, the truth fell from your lips in a rough exhale. 

“No.”  You felt tears in your eyes.  “I know it’s expensive.  I know it’s beautiful.  But I’ve never hated anything more.” 

He held your gaze, your watery eyes in the dark depths of his own.

Then he grabbed the belt by a thin material strand and yanked.  A couple pearls popped right off and scattered.  The rest dangled on the belt, an absurd amount of wealth in his hand. 

Felix tossed it over his shoulder like it was garbage. Then he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you against him. 

You chanced a look at your family.  They were scandalized.  Horrified.  And you breathed easier for the first time in a long time. You have long suffered the oppressive strangle of control masquerading as love.  His protective arm felt nothing like that pearl belt.

So you look at him now.  You strive to articulate all these feelings.  You are not used to speaking and having someone listen. 

“I can’t explain it,” you say.  “Maybe it’s foolish.  But I… I just feel like I was meant to be here.  With you.  Like this.”

Your heart jumps at his expression, a luminous pleasure that brightens this dimly lit room. 

“That’s funny,” he says.  “I feel the same way.”

You swallow as he sits beside you.  Slowly, touch by touch, breath by breath, he is bringing your bodies together.  His knee touches yours, his arm your arm.  He folds his hands in his lap but he is close enough you can count his freckles again. 

“I need to be honest with you,” he says.  “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.  A year ago.  At the winter masquerade.”

You look at him with surprise.  All at once, his eyes come back to you, gazing at you behind a golden bird mask at the annual winter social.  You couldn’t place the handsome stranger at the time.  His hair was dark then, his face in a mask.  He did not speak.  His distinctive voice would have given him away. 

He danced one dance with you, the only person who danced with you all night.  You were later reprimanded for behaving like a slut, even though he touched your waist and nothing more.

“You were very kind,” he says.  “I watched you with the staff.  You were the only one in that whole room to say please and thank you to them – did you know that?”  He sighs and looks away, thoughts travelling beyond this room.  “I came from nothing,” he says.  “My family… we fought to get where we are now.  But I remember, you know.  What it feels like to be the smallest and least important person in the room.”

You sit straighter when he looks at you.  Oh, your heart has not slowed its thunder.  Excitement and affection swirl together in a motley tempest of sensation, touched by his words and yearning for more.  You thought you had been sold to an uncaring bidder, but Felix touches you slowly, like he would a very fine work of art.  His knuckles caress your cheek, the slope of your jaw. 

“I thought…” He looks at you reverently.  “I thought… I would do anything to preserve that goodness.  I would protect it.  Like your family wasn’t.”  His brow furrows now, a shadow of his face.  “They would have ruined you.” 

His hand continues, knuckles skimming down your throat, your shoulder, your arm.  You shiver.   He has a terrible scar, scoring the whole back of his hand.  A stark difference to your unblemished hand, your manicured nails against his calloused fingers. 

He says, “I know what it’s like to be ruined.”

You look from your hands to his face, his handsome profile, the slope of his nose and his soft lips.  He is still looking at your joined hands. 

“I wasn’t always like this,” he says.  “I’d give anything to have my innocence back.  But I can’t.”

He lifts your hand, cradles it between both of his like something precious.  Your breath catches when he kisses your palm, lips soft against your skin.  

“So I told myself, I would do anything to save yours,” he says.  He looks almost… afraid.  An expression you never expected to see on this man.   “So I destroyed your father’s business,” he says.  “It was all me.  I knew he would never give you to a man like me unless he had no choice.  He would have given you away to one of his friends and they would have broken you.  But you were already mine.  So I left him no choice but to see things my way.” 

“Oh,” you say, surprised beyond all words. 

“I wanted you to know before anything… happens… between us,” he says.  “But I understand if your feeling are complicated.  Or if you… fear me.”

Your father has often boasted how many men fear him.  It does not sound like a boast from Felix, rather something lamentable.  His face is shadowed in shame. 

“My feelings are not complicated,” you say.  He is still holding your hand in both of his.  You lay your other hand there, a complete joining. 

He meets your gaze, an intense and imploring stare.

“I’m not my father’s daughter anymore,” you say.  “I’m my husband’s wife.  My loyalty is to you.  My place is with you.”

“Yes,” he says, spoken on a breath.  His smile returns.  “Your place.  I’d say you need someone to put you in your place.  Your rightful place.” 

He springs off the bed like there is lightning under his feet.  He is all smiles and sunlight again, a beacon in the blue dark of this room.  You cannot help but bask in his warmth, bereft in the chill when he leaves your side. 

He takes something from his discarded coat pocket, a case swathed in velvet, soft to the touch.  You hold it, admiring the texture.

He kneels behind you on the bed while you open it.   Inside is the most breathtaking necklace you have ever seen in your life.  When you lift it, the chain is long, designed to sit low, loose around your neck.  No more chokers.  No more pearls. 

“Oh, Felix,” you say, breathless and amazed, then very embarrassed.  You are not used to such lovely gifts.  Even the pearls were a punishment.  “I can’t accept this…” you say, stunned.

“You can,” he says. 

He takes the clasp then strings the necklace around you.  His fingers on the nape of your neck have you shivering.  The necklace clasps in place, then his lips are on your neck, a chaste press that nonetheless lights fire under your skin.  “It was made for you,” he says.  “Like you were made for me.” 

He takes the zipper of your gown between two careful fingers, so slowly lowering it.  It feels like you are unravelling with it.  The zipper reaches the base of your spine and his fingertips dance across your bare skin. 

He steps off the bed.  He looks down at you, his eyes intense but his smile soft.  He touches your cheek, strokes his thumb across it lovingly. 

Then he is sinking to his knees in front of you.  You already feel weak as jelly, but your whole body goes soft and pliant when he gently grasps your ankle, when he slides your painful shoe off your foot and tosses it aside.  He somehow finds every sore spot and rubs it better. 

“This is how it works,” he says.  He is on his knees but somehow his presence looms bigger than you.  You cannot look away from the thrall of his gaze.  “You are my wife.  And when we are out there, I am your servant.”  He takes your other foot and removes that shoe as well.  He massages you gently.  “I will never deny you anything,” he says.  “You can ask me for anything. All right?  I will give you the whole world.  I will give you my whole heart.  In return, I only want one thing.”

“What’s that?” you ask, already breathless.

“I am your husband,” he says, “and in here, you are my servant.  Only I can touch you.  Only I will have you.  All of you.  In every way.  Always, starting from today.  Starting from right now.”    

“Yes.  Yes.  But I – I’ve never done this before,” you say, aching to surrender but fearful he will regret this.  Though you are knowledgeable, you are lacking in experience from years of isolation.  “I’ve been alone for so long,” you say.  “I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You don’t,” he says.  He lifts your leg, swoops down to kiss your calf, then higher: your knee, your thigh.  “You could never,” he says, guiding your leg to rest on his shoulder.  He gathers the volume of your wedding dress in his hands and pushes it up, up. 

You almost forget to breathe.  He kisses higher on your thigh.  Then he grabs the thin material of your white tights and rips them open.

“You’re mine,” he says.  “You’ve always been mine.” 

You fall back on your elbows, limbs already quivering as he tears through your underclothes as if impatiently ripping open a prettily wrapped gift.   With your expensive lace panties shredded and your tights in tatters, he pushes your skirts up and out of his way.  You hold them while he kisses up your thigh.  He runs his tongue along the seam between your thigh and somewhere much more sensitive. 

“No one else has done this to you?” he asks.  He already looks flushed.  Desperate.      

“No,” you answer.  You swallow hard.  “Never.”  You know some men do not enjoy providing this type of pleasure to their wives, so you are about to tell him that you have no expectations in that regard—

But then he is on you like a starving man, eyes closed and mouth open and licking through all that wet desire.  You fall on your back, pressing your heel into his back.  He groans, pressing deeper, tongue seeking, swiping, stroking. 

He grips your thighs possessively, holding you in place as he ravages you with his mouth.  He takes you up and over a blissful crest.  It leaves you a drenched and panting mess. 

He stands, wiping his arm across his wet mouth.  He does not look satisfied, eyes still hungry as he climbs on top of you. 

“My wife,” he says, like the word is sacred and impossible, like he thought a man like him could never say it.  “All mine,” he says, running his hands up your thighs, up your waist, touching every inch of you until he is cradling your face delicately in his careful but calloused hands.   

It makes your whole body clench up tightly, your breath stuttering as he kisses you.  You melt into the kiss, so different from the chaste peck of your ceremony.  It is a claiming kiss, the taste of you still on his lips, his moan in your mouth, his chest against yours as those sounds of pleasure rumble through him. 

He tugs down your bodice, then he is ripping through your underclothes again.   When your bodice is around your waist and your chest is bare except for his necklace, you find yourself covering your breasts instinctively.  He takes your hands, not forcefully but firmly, holding your gaze.  His mouth is already so pink and raw from kissing.  You wonder if you look as ravished.  Maybe more.  It makes you whimper, surrendering when he pins your hands on either side of your head. 

“This is mine,” he says, kissing your jaw, your throat, then lower.  “All mine, sweetheart.”

He wraps his lips around a pointed nipple and you feel the reaction between your legs, as if connected by a thread.  Your legs try to close around his hips but he presses down.  The crumpled skirt of your dress is between you, but he feels your thighs clenching, feels you desperately bucking. 

Even his chuckle is a deep sound.  He smiles at you, batting his eyelashes as he licks the curve of your breast.  Your whole body twitches again. 

“Mm,” he says.  “You feel that?  You getting all tight… and hot… just for me…”

“Felix,” you say, you beg.

He sits back on his heels to get your wedding dress off.  It is a flurry of ivory and silk, earning some laughter, then it is gone and your husband is staring down at you.   Again, you feel like prey, like a meal spread out helplessly for some predatory creature.  Again, you like it. 

He is just as impatient with his own clothes.  He does not look away from you while tearing his shirt open.  Buttons fly, forgotten, and he rips the material down his arms and off.  His belt is next, leather whistling through the air then joining the heap on the floor.  He grabs your hand and guides it to the hard shape in his white pants, groaning deep in his chest as your palm curves around it. 

You are so captivated him, by the way he feels, by the sounds he makes, that you are surprised when he touches you too.  Your legs part instinctively, then your thighs twitch to close when you are embarrassed by your eagerness. 

“Don’t be shy,” he says.  “Not with me.” His fingers feel divine inside you, gliding as if through silk, pressing at your walls and making you whimper.  “Yeah, my baby.  So nice… ‘n wet… for me…” he murmurs, more to himself than you. It still makes you clench, like your body wants him deeper, pulling tight around him.   “God.  Perfect.” 

“Aren’t we g-gonna—”  Your eyes drop to his waistband, then up to his eyes again. 

He smiles, laughs, and withdraws his fingers slowly. 

“Oh yeah, sweetheart,” he says, unbuttoning his pants.  “We are.  Be patient.  You’re gonna enjoy this.  Gonna remember this night forever.”  He leans down so his body is over yours.  He kisses you, presses you into the pillows.  When he pulls back, he traces a finger along the necklace, smiling brightly. “The first time I made you mine,” he says, speaking low and soft against your lips.   “I’m going to do everything with you,” he says.  “And you’re gonna want it.  All of it and more.” 

He has you begging for more already.  When he finally is pushing inside you, after so much torturous build-up, you are a breathless, sweaty tangle of limbs.  It feels like he is pinning you to the mattress, taking you so deep and so hard, like your whole body is changing to fit him.   There is a long, slow burn, but you are so wet and he is so careful; it is an ache that gives way to pleasure. 

His arms are around you, holding him above you, making you feel so completely shielded and enveloped.  He starts a slow pace that turns more frantic.  Your hands move all over his chest and shoulders to find a grip. 

“I love that no one else has seen you like this,” he says, grabbing your searching hand.  He brings it to his mouth, kisses your palm, your fingers.  He puts your hand on his shoulder, then he slides his hand under your head to cup your neck, holding you steady while he rolls his hips into yours.  “That no one else has felt you before,” he says.  “Been inside you. They don't get to have you, but I do.“

“Yes,” you say.  “Always.  My husband.” 

“Mm.”  He drops his forehead to yours.  “My wife.” 

You come again but it feels different, starting deep inside you and rolling outward, a full-body spasm that has you crying out his name.  He comes too, holding you against him, his lips on your neck as he says your name. 

Then he kisses you.  Then he lays you down.  He wraps you in his arms and squeezes. 

“Sleep for now,” he says.  “It’s been a long day.  And I want you again.”

“You have me,” you say, nestling in his arms, your head under his chin. 

“Yes,” he says with a smile.  He looks so sweet even while his wicked hands hold your body in a strong, possessive grip.  “I do.”      

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑷𝒖𝒍𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 3

tags : pwp (without plot), cardiophilia (heartbeat/pulse fetish), vaginal sex, riding, missionary, slight mention of marking, slight mention of clit play, creampie, praise, sort-of-rough sex (but like.... soft????), use of pet names "sweetheart" "darling". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.3k 

an : this went through SO many edits, despite its shorter length, bc it was quite difficult to write in the way i wanted things to unfold! nevertheless i love zayne with all my heart and all my soul and although it's not the image i had in my mind, i enjoyed writing this fic nonetheless <3

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @hunters-association @darlingdummycassandra @spotted-salamander @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @love-and-deepstrays @pepprrmint @keioxo @theanbitchless (SIGN UP HERE)

AO3 / KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Yours was a heart that would beat only for him—his favorite sound, his favorite everything. 

The moonlight illuminated many things.

His hair, wet and sweaty and messy from how desperately your fingers had clung to him; his skin, all aglow beneath the wisps of silver…. Streaming through the bedroom window, specks of moondust spilled over his figure, and those lime green eyes of his gleaned against the dark of the night with utmost love and adoration that you had always found in their depths.

He was beautiful.

You had never denied that.

Yet, now, as his hands sought purchase at the sides of your hips, you thought to yourself that he couldn’t have been more.

His lips parted slightly, quiet pants falling in proof of his pleasure if his half-lidded eyes and that pink flush adorning his cheeks was already not proof enough. The image in front of you only made you move faster— faster. Desperate to feel more of him, desperate to chase the pleasure that called to you so clearly. 

His hold on you tightened.

You could feel the strength of his grip as he guided you, maneuvered you over his length again and again, allowing you to pick up the pace with which your hips would move.

Up, and down, and deep… 

You were so full.

A glance down would reveal the shape of his erection quickly sinking into your sweet hole, the sound of flesh against flesh an echo of pleasure punctuated with moans that you wouldn’t have dreamt of holding back.

You would relish the feeling. Revel in that delicious, delicious stretch that he would give you.

His hips snapped up to meet with yours, and your eyes glazed over.

“Zayne… Zayne…”

His name was the only word you needed, the only word you could say, feeling every drag of his cock against your walls. Every thrust drove him deeper and deeper into you, never stopping, never slowing down—

Needy.

As needy as you were.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he murmured, taking your hand from his shoulder to cradle against his cheek. You watched him draw in a shaky breath, nuzzling your palm. “You are everything I need. So beautiful, so good…”

He began to place wet, open mouthed kisses over your wrist, breathing hotly against your skin. The action was so intimate, so gentle, not at all like the way he would fuck himself into you, craving the warmth of his walls just as badly you craved his everything .

Your hips stuttered, body shuddering.

“Zayne…”

The sound of his name, a soft plea for him—just him— had him groaning.

“What is it, darling?” he whispered.

His eyes never left yours as he pressed you back down onto him, allowing you to grind against his pelvis as if to feel him as vividly as you could.

Another moan, another spill of his name where you could find nothing else to speak—

His thumb moved over your pulse point, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Ah… All this, for me.”

It was more of a statement to himself than to you, as he angled his hips to have the ridge of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot.

He felt your pulse quicken, eyes on you as your head threw back to keep the angle—and you were at it again, pivoting your hips up and down, meeting every buck of his hips with a fervor that had the both of you falling into a crescendo of pleasure.

But it seemed that Zayne had had enough.

Something flickered in his eyes as your positions were switched in the next second, your body immediately caged between his arms—

If you had thought Zayne had been beautiful moments ago, then now could barely compare. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, hair sticking to his skin, a certain sense of primal desire laid plainly out on his features.

I need you.

Words he wouldn’t say, but words that were aptly conveyed as his hips immediately slammed back into yours.

A cry tore from your throat, body sinking further and further into the mattress as he propelled his hips at a pace you could barely fathom yourself. Your mouth stayed open with an endless litany of his name, brows knitted in pleasure. At the same time, one hand slowly interlocked with your fingers, a means of comfort to combat the rough snap of his hips, fucking you desperately until the only thing you could think about was him.

His breath was ragged and hot, but he let out a deep chuckle.

“You really like it like this, don’t you, darling…”

His other hand had two fingers pressed against the pulse on the side of your neck, his eyes boring into you with a knowing look.

He could feel everything. 

The clench of your heat, the thrumming of your heartbeat…

They were all for him.

And you were an open book.

Immediately his head dipped down to kiss and lick at your collarbone, taking sheer delight in the immediate jump of your heart rate. He would bite, and suck, and soothe—keeping his hand in place, almost as if monitoring your pulse, thriving off of the fact that it revealed so much of how much you wanted him.

As if everything else was not enough.

Screams and cries of pleasure continued to fall from your lips as you writhed beneath him, taking everything he would give you—like the good girl you wanted to be for him, like the neediness in you that you simply had to satiate through him.

Sitting back up, his other hand drifted down towards your puffy clit.

The stimulation was intense, but not unwelcome, near-sobs choked out between moans that even you could no longer comprehend.

His gaze swept over your body. That same satisfied little smirk, barely there but still present, made you shudder, as he observed and took in every detail of your pleasure.

And then he leaned down, and whispered into your ear:

“Cum for me.”

The authority in Zayne’s command would never fail to bring you past the precipice, his voice a trigger for your very release as you weeped, pleasure overtaking your body in a way that, to you, always felt more intense with him than you had ever experienced before.

Your body shook, trembling, your chest heaving up and down with desperate gasps for air.

With wide eyes, you looked at him, and you were certain that he had felt the very jump in your heartbeat. The thrumming that had been deafening in your ear, felt through his very fingertips—though everything, through your release, through the now as he eased you down from it.

With a slow breath, he leaned in for a tender kiss, soothing you from your orgasm.

“Good girl,” he murmured. He nearly chuckled at the response that he felt from his praise, but he stilled inside you with a deep groan, release spilling in hot ropes inside of you.

The sensation of warmth filling your insides had you whimpering, but he reached over with his free hand, cradling your head, continuing to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. “It’s alright… It’s alright. You did very good, sweetheart. You were wonderful.”

Through the obscene sounds of his slowing, wet thrusts, your breathing relaxed, and he sighed into your ear.

“You’re very telling,” he smiled, eyes closing as he pulled out and gently settled himself beside you. “There's a very interesting pattern when you cum. I like to think of it as my favorite.” Immediately, he settled himself right by your heart, an ear to your chest as if to listen. “But it’s just as comforting in the afterglow…”

With a soft laugh, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Am I?” you shook your head slightly. There was a small smile on your face. “But you’ve always known it, Zayne. From the start, my heart had only ever beat for you.”

He looked up this time, the love and adoration in his eyes clearer to you than it has ever been.

“I know,” he murmured. “And I like hearing it. Just for me.”

The moonlight illuminated many things.

Now, it cast both your bodies in an ethereal glow, settled together in an intimate, loving embrace.

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.