#it technically makes sense even though I’m a virgin but like my god this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done
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richardnixonbutagirl · 2 years ago
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just took plan b despite the fact that I’m still a virgin. Just thought I’d run and tell all my loyal followers about what their favorite paranoid Nixon-coded girl is up to
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mrsvalentinefucker1 · 11 months ago
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Catholic Priest! Medic x Fem!reader
A/N:It’s 4 am. So there is probably grammar mistakes and sentences that don’t make sense but it’s tumblr so.
You had been harboring sins you weren’t even sure the priest would even care to hear. Though there was two main priests, you always took a preference to Father Ludwig.
Father Mick wasn’t bad but for some reason Father Ludwig always occupied your attention.
You hated to admit it but you had definitely had some.. unpleasant thoughts of Father Ludwig. Thoughts that an active child of god should never have of someone from the church.
You hated to have them but you couldn’t help it, Father Ludwig was so charismatic, passionate and even though it was his duty.. he listened to everything you had to say.
You decided you had to absolutely confess these sinful thoughts to Father Mick.
You marched down to the church, slid open the curtain and sat in the confession booth.
“Father please forgive me for I have sinned.”
The man didn’t respond, but you knew it was safe to speak
“I’ve been having lustfull thoughts. I don’t know how to stop.. I feel so much for this person but he is a member of the church. I know as a child of god I should never have these thoughts but I can’t help it..”
“Who is it?” The man spoke back
You paused “Father Ludwig.”
“My child, why do you think telling me this is going to fix anything?”
“If I confess than god can help me forget all of these sinful things.”
“You will never be free from sinful thoughts. The important part is that you repent of having them in the first place..and especially that you don’t tell the one you’ve been fantasizing about, your thoughts on them.”
Your heart sank.
“Father Ludwig?”
“Yes my child?”
“I’m so sorry. I had no ide-“
The curtain slid open as the tall man looked down at you.
“Father?”
“Yes my child?”
“Please..” you looked down at the priests growing tent in his pants and then at your feet “don’t look at me like that.. you don’t know how much of an effect it has on me”
“Your sins, they are between you and god. Not me and you, you know that right?”
“Of course I do.”
“So, technically speaking you can sin as much as you want and as long as you repent, you will be fine.”
You looked back up at him “what does that mean?”
The priest grabbed your wrist and forced you to stand.
“Y/n, what did these thoughts consist of?” He held your hands in front of your chest
“Father I can’t tell-“
“Tell me. A man of the church is directly giving you that order.”
“Yes Father” you looked down and took a deep breath “I have thoughts of you taking my virginity- in the confession booth..” you looked up to see his cold gaze “I don’t want to have these thoughts but I do.”
“Interesting.”
You looked into the man’s eyes for a second until he turned you around, pressing your chest and face against the confession booths hard surface.
“Y/n, promise me you’ll repent after this.”
Your heart was racing “I- I promise”
Father Ludwig held your arms behind your back with one hand as he used the other to undo his zipper. Taking his growing cock out of his pants and pumping it a few times.
You looked back for a second until he shoved your head back into it’s previous place
He lifted the ankle length skirt you had on up to your waist and peeled back your soaked Lacie panties.
“My. How could a child of god have such filthy thoughts..” he said as he began to slid the tip of his cock up and down your wet folds.
“Please..”
“With time you will get your reward. Patients my child.”
You only whined at his words. Your heart pounding and your face burning. You grinded against his throbbing cock as he slid it up to your hole before he slipped only the head in.
You winced. The pain was already too much
“It will hurt.. but trust me, okay?”
“I trust you Father.”
“Good girl.”
He began to massage your clit while rocking his hips back and forth until you were able to take the whole head of his cock into your tight pussy
Ludwig moaned in pleasure and so did you.
You began grinding onto his cock, begging for him to slip more of himself into you.
“I can only imagine how long you’ve been thinking of this moment. Tell me Y/n, how long has this been a dream for you?”
“Ever since I began coming to this church.. as soon as I saw you look at me during prayer”
He remembered that moment quite well, he was admiring you and you just so happened to link eyes with him. Never in a million years did you or him think it would lead to this moment.
“Please. More..”
Ludwig chuckled as he gripped your hips with both of his large hands and forced his entire cock into your cunt. A little bit of blood seeping out as he did so. Your head shot up from the sudden pain but quickly subsided when he started massaging your clit again.
“What a naughty girl, Y/n”
You moaned shamelessly into your arm as he began pounding into your wet pussy. Your eyes crossed and your mind was in the sky, you could barely make out what he was saying from the searing pleasure you were feeling. You were sure your legs would give out from how rough he was fucking you.
The priest grabbed your throat, holding you to his chest as he whispered into your ear.
“I hope you’re enjoying this Y/n”
You nodded the best you could “I- I am!”
He chuckled “good girl”
The man began toying with your clit once more
“I’m close sweetheart.. are you?”
You nodded as you bit your lip.
“F-fuck! Yes.. please.. gonna cu- uhm”
He began fucking you harder than before. Your cunt began tightening around him as he gripped your hips and throat harder. You were sure you were going to pass out as your orgasm hit you. Your legs gave out and you were grasping at his hand around your constricted airway
The man let out a deep moan as he finished deep inside of your virgin womb
He let go of you and fixed himself up. He liked the state you were in after he had his way with you. He pulled your panties back up as his cum seeped through them. Then pulled your skirt down. He opened the confession booths curtain only to be met by Father Mick. A visible tent in his pants from what he had heard.
“Not very godly to be doing this in the church Father Ludwig.”
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birdsinmywalls · 9 months ago
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This has been SUCH a pleasure to read. The drama made sense and was written well and the smut was detailed and a little sweet? Even though he’s a gruff guy. I loved the way you tied up the ending. So glad I stumbled across this fic and I’m excited to dive into whatever else you have written! Because if this is the standard you write in, everyone should feel lucky that you aren’t charging because it’s THAT good!
“If anything, he gives them more attention than he gives you, delivering his deadpan jokes and exchanging quips during training.” Seems to me like he’s in a good mood because he got laid but I don’t know him as well as reader lol
“It feels silly to admit that maybe you had hoped that Ghost wouldn’t be content with just being your first, that maybe he’d want to be your second, your third.” It’s not silly to want things!
“Ghost had so confidently taken a seat next to you on the same fucking squishy little couch that you had shared last week.” Ghost is a man of few words lol this seems like a promising move from him!
“you wish he would give you some indication of where you stand,” girlie maybe just pull him to the side and ask? I think a direct rejection would be better than this middle ground you guys are on
“Over the last week, you’ve tried very hard not to be a stereotype.” Ugh it sucks when the pressures and stereotypes get to us and make us feel crazy
“After all, he had taken your virginity and then proceeded to act as though nothing at all had changed between you for the rest of the week, and now he’s sat next to you with his gaze that heated? What the fuck?” LOL
“He’s sort of cute. A charming smile, at least. When he sees you looking back, he only smiles wider and steps closer.” Sort of cute? Bestie let’s not even play games. If you are telling yourself he’s sort of cute he’s not worth it
“ It makes you jolt, startled, recognising Ghost by touch alone. It feels as though it sears straight through your clothes, and your eyes widen.” Uh oh looks like someone is jealous!
“Mm.” Ghost grunts. “What were you doing?” Love that he’s bothered
“Oh god, the Captain is watching you get hauled off — how mortifying.” Yikes yeah I don’t know what to say about that. Everyone is gunna know now
“And then as soon as another guy speaks to me, you’re over to me like a light. I mean, what the fuck?” And then, remembering the chain of command, you add a very sullen, “Sir.” LOL I love it
“His name is Davidson.” He says, and his voice is missing the somewhat dangerous edge it had only moments earlier. “And that wasn’t what I was talking about.” Yikes that wasn’t the guys name?? Cringe!
“Besides,” He cuts clean across you, but so gently, so much so that it surprises you. “I think we long surpassed professionalism when you asked if you could use my cock like a dildo.” Let’s be accountable Ghost! YOU were the one that said “let me try” last chapter and ate her out for an hour. The line was crossed by you first technically
““I was trying to give you space, doll.” He murmurs. “It was your first– I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Wanted you to make your own choices.” I have to say I almost always hate a miscommunication trope but this one is done so well in a way that makes sense for the situation and I am loving it
“There’s a long moment of silence during which Ghost just stares at you. It’s borderline uncomfortable, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Even with the mask acting as a barrier, he’s still so intense” to have a character like ghost who barely speaks and wears a mask that hides expression you do a very good job of showing his micro expressions and twitches to show what he’s thinking
“Promising start.” He says, and you want to smack him.” LOL Snarky Ghost is Top tier
“Shh,” You admonish him, glancing up with a frown. “Let me do it myself.” Ok girl!
“Knew you’d be good at this. Look at you, messy little thing. Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Love how many compliments he gives her. He was sweet to her in the first part too
“He’s built like a fucking god; thick muscles, soft tummy, and cushiony pecs. It might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.” Swoons
“It’s not teasing, lovie.” He says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week straight. I’m just reacquainting myself.” A gentleman
“Your jaw clenches in determination. “I need to be on top.” Woo! Get it girl!
“The guy at the bar.” Ghost clarifies, his voice deep and a little irritated. “The one who was all over you. Would you have gone back with him?” Oh yeah ghost? I thought earlier you said “that’s not what I was talking about” looks like you WERE jealous
“To see him glowing with sweat, his mouth lolled open under his rumpled balaclava as he snarls and grunts and fucks into you like an animal feels like a drug so heady you know you’re already addicted.” Same!
“As long as you’ll have me.” He says, low in the quiet of the room. His tone is thick with significance,” love it! He’s such a sweetheart when he actually communicates lol
ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!
part one | part two
🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, inexperienced!reader, first time blow jobs, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, riding, jealous ghost, some communication issues!
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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The problem with sleeping with a man like Ghost, you’re coming to realise, is that now that you’ve experienced the reality of sex (and good sex) you can’t stop thinking about it.
In the week following the night you’d spent together, you swear you can feel his phantom touch on your hips, your thighs, your back. It feels like he’s carved a space for himself inside of you, something you’ll never get back – not that you want it back in the first place. 
Realistically, you know that the whole ‘loss of virginity’ thing doesn’t have as much to do with how you’re feeling as the fact that it was Ghost who had taken it. You had long bullied your hymen out of the way with your collection of silly dildos, but nothing could have prepared you for the scorching hot heat of Ghost’s massive cock splitting you open, or his clever tongue licking at you, or his thick calloused fingers rubbing torturous circles into your clit and fraying your nerves apart.
The worst part is, you don’t know if anything is ever going to live up to the way he made you feel again. You’ve tried to replicate his touches, his rhythm, the way he had split you open, but your fingers are too small and none of your dildos can imitate the way he had worked you stupid. To your immense dissatisfaction, you don’t even come close to coming again.
It feels like something inside of you has cracked open, and you don’t know how to stop all of this new yearning, how to stuff it all back inside and pretend that nothing has changed.
The problem is that while you feel as though you’ve been changed from the inside out, you don’t think Ghost feels the same way. Maybe the most infuriating thing is that Ghost seems entirely unaffected. Other than a couple of lingering glances and knowing stares, there’s no indication that he had done anything more intimate with you than grappling at training. 
All you can do is attempt to follow his lead, to be as casual as possible.
It’s harder than it sounds.
You find your whole body straining towards him when he’s close to you, though you try to keep cool. You fail miserably. You can’t even look in Ghost’s direction without thinking of his big fingers hooked inside you, rubbing at your clit, squeezing at your tits. You can hardly look him in the eye without thinking of the way he looked when he was squeezed between your thighs with his mouth on your cunt, the way those big brown eyes watched as you writhed on his tongue.
And yet, you can hardly tear your eyes away from him. You look at him in a completely different light now. He’s the first man to take you, the first one to touch you so intimately, the first one to make you come. He’s still your lieutenant, but it’s like all of a sudden your eyes have been opened to a new aspect of him. He’s no longer just your untouchable superior, the man who’s always so cold and distant behind that death mask – now he’s the man who was gentle with you, the man who kissed you sweetly when he took your virginity, the man who gave you the first, second, third orgasm of your life.
But despite the way you had been offered that new little glimpse into Ghost, he still remains an enigma to you. 
You can feel his eyes on you throughout the week, though it’s never at the same time as when you’re looking at him. And maybe you’re imagining it, but it seems as though he’s gotten freer with his touches, too. A big palm on the small of your back as he steps past you, a quick squeeze to the shoulder. It’s subtle, and you can’t be sure that he’s actually touching you anymore than usual.
But other than the subtle glances and the light touches, Ghost doesn’t make any genuine effort to approach you again. He still treats you like just another member of the squad, no different to Soap or Gaz. 
If anything, he gives them more attention than he gives you, delivering his deadpan jokes and exchanging quips during training. You end up standing to the side, sending infrequent glances their way in the hopes that he’ll give you something.
You’ve never been the fittest or the strongest, but your level of distraction in those few days following your night with Ghost is absolutely mortifying. You’re slow, you’re clumsy, you mess up everything. 
You don’t think you can be blamed when you’re working in the same space as Ghost. You can hardly bring yourself to look his way when he’s lifting weights, unable to handle looking at the flex and curl of his muscles under his long-sleeve black workout shirt. It clings to him, letting you see every little shift of muscle and tendon beneath that stupid top as he works, and your mind very unhelpfully provides a slideshow of memories of him between your spread thighs. 
You know it’s obvious. You glance at him, then glance away, then back again. Your eyes linger, bright and too interested, before you’re able to hide it. You wonder sometimes if your yearning is obvious on your face; you hope not.
But if Ghost sees it – any of it – he gives no indication. 
If you have to be honest with yourself, you’ll admit that you’re disappointed. You had hoped that– well. You’re not sure you can bear to admit what you’d hoped, even just to yourself. It feels silly to admit that maybe you had hoped that Ghost wouldn’t be content with just being your first, that maybe he’d want to be your second, your third. Silly. Almost blasphemous.
You don’t technically have to show up to training, so after only two days of your awkward and uncertain pining in the gym, you stop showing up. The role you fulfil as part of the 141 is a non-combat one, so you know you won’t be missed in their ongoing training. You’ve mostly been working in communications; maintaining secure communication channels and ensuring that information is transmitted accurately and securely. The boys rely on you in the field, and you feel like you owe them a certain level of physical fitness just in case things go frighteningly wrong when you’re out there with them. 
There’s just something so mortifying about the whole situation. It feels as though Ghost had peeled back the layers of you and taken a peek at your soft unprotected insides. You’d been vulnerable in front of him in a way you’d never been in front of anyone before, in a way that you can hardly stand. You had thought that you’d been okay with it being a one time thing, but you weren’t exactly doing a whole lot of thinking at the time.
So yeah, every time he glances away from you, or when he doesn’t even bother to look in your direction at all, it feels like you’re being rejected anew. It’s…. It’s not ideal. But you’re a big girl, and you’ve dealt with repressed desire and stifled yearning for years now. At least now you have a real experience to add to your reserve of imagination the next time you try to get yourself off.
It’s fine. You convince yourself that you were being ridiculous in the first place. He’s Ghost, after all. You feel a little foolish for even having the brief hope that something more might happen between the two of you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
You manage to keep to yourself for most of the week, and the rest of the squad is kind enough not to say anything about it. But when Thursday comes around, you realise it’s not going to be possible to avoid Soap and his persistent insistence that you join them all in the moderately-sized cantina for drinks that night.
Truthfully, it doesn’t take too much persuading to convince you to go. Avoiding training with the squad had resulted in a week of isolation that had left you lonely and wishing for some social interaction. Besides, you’ve never quite been able to say no to Soap, and so you’re dragged to the little cantina for the second Thursday in a row.
To your absolute bewilderment, you find yourself in the exact same position as you had been in the last time you shared drinks with the squad, exactly one week ago. 
Despite hardly speaking to you all week, Ghost had so confidently taken a seat next to you on the same fucking squishy little couch that you had shared last week. You end up partially squashed into the arm of the sofa, with Ghost’s massive hulking body brushing against you with every slight movement. 
It’s galling to admit it, but you feel like you’re on fire. He doesn’t say much other than a soft murmur of a greeting when he first settles down beside you, but then he throws his arm around the back of the couch in a move that’s unexpectedly intimate. 
You try not to read too much into it. While Ghost may be fairly aloof and menacing to those that don’t know him well, to you and the squad he’s always been subtly territorial. His eyes flick around the room semi-regularly, never at ease even in the middle of base. When Gaz goes to get drinks, Ghost’s eyes follow him until he gets back as though he’s expecting something to happen in the few minutes and couple of feet that he’s gone. He does the same when Price steps out for a smoke, and when Soap steps out to the toilet.
So the arm behind you (technically resting on the back of the couch rather than your shoulders) doesn’t actually mean anything. The curious look that Soap sends you doesn’t mean anything either, and you studiously ignore it as you force yourself to relax at Ghost’s side.
You drink the vodka soda Gaz hands you a little quicker than you mean to – maybe it’s because your nerves are already set on edge, but the alcohol goes to your head. Quickly. 
It’s a pleasant floaty feeling, and it eases some of the anxiety that’s been bubbling thanks to the heat that sinks into your skin from his side pressed up against you. By the time you drain your glass, you’re leaning against his side. He doesn’t react, for better or worse; you wish he would give you some indication of where you stand, whether he likes you bundled up by his side or if he’s just tolerating it.
When Ghost’s eyes finally slide over to you from behind the dark pits of his mask, you nearly jolt. His gaze is lazy and half-lidded, but he reaches out to take the glass from you. His gloved fingers brush over yours, and you can’t stifle the embarrassing little judder that runs down your spine.
“Slow down.” He murmurs, setting the glass aside. “It’s still early.”
You had been hoping all damn evening that he would just look at you, but now that you finally have his eyes on you it feels as though you’re pinned down by them. You try not to squirm, once again remembering the way those dark eyes had watched you so darkly as he had hunched over you, rutting into you until the tears were streaming down your cheeks.
Your mind goes blank under his attention and his closeness, the ambient noise of glasses clinking and loud voices laughing and joking and muffled old eighties tunes fading to nothing until the sound of Soap’s loud voice brings you back to yourself.
“Let the lass drink, LT.” He crows, grinning, and you realise that he already has another couple of drinks in his hands. You hadn’t even noticed him leaving for the bar. “She deserves to have fun tonight. Don’t you, bonnie?”
“Sure.” You agree easily, relieved by the distraction and already reaching for the new drink. You’re still all fidgety and distracted, eager to drown yourself in it. “I deserve fun.”
It feels as though Ghost’s gaze is burning right into the side of your head, but you fixedly ignore him. He’s so intense, you’re pretty sure that you look like a dazed idiot under the weight of his attention. It’s the most he’s looked at you all week, and you attempt to hide your face behind your glass as you take a sip of your fresh drink.
He’s drinking too, though he’s foregone his usual whiskey in favour of a dark lager that he’s barely touched. The glass is sweating with condensation, and he swipes a thick gloved thumb over the fog on it absent-mindedly as he watches you.
You watch Gaz and Soap as they joke with each other, trading jibes and jabs and stories that you hardly even hear. It feels a little as though your ears have been filled with cotton wool, as though everything around you is just distinctly muffled. You feel like you’re on another planet, awareness tethered only by the hot, hard line of Ghost’s muscular body pressed against your side. 
Over the last week, you’ve tried very hard not to be a stereotype.
You’ve heard men laughing about girls they’ve slept with who’ve become too clingy, who’ve wanted too much, and wasted their time searching for something that those guys aren’t willing to give. Maybe it’s because you’re so conscious that Ghost has taken several of your firsts, but you’re so determined to not be that person. 
Ghost isn’t exactly a big talker anyway, unless it’s the odd sarcastic comment or ribbing with Soap, so it’s not like you’ve talked about the situation. You had just awoken the morning after with a deep ache in your core and a sore back, though the pain was soothed by the warm embrace you were all wrapped up in. You had been nervous, but you needn’t have been. Ghost had given you nothing. He just rubbed your back with one shovel-sized hand and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder (through the mask, so you don’t know what to make of that) before he rolled out of your bed to pull his trousers back on, grunting that he’d see you later.
So, you don’t talk about it. Not with him, and not with anybody. It feels like so much has changed, yet everything stays the same. The deja vu you’re experiencing from sitting on the couch drinking with him like this is overwhelming, and experiencing him staring at you like this after a full week of distance is making you feel hot and fuzzy and stupid.
While Soap is in the midst of a loud and enthusiastic retelling of a story from his basic training days, you build up the courage to glance up at Ghost. He’s already looking at you, as though anticipating your attention. 
“You’re staring at me.” You mumble, your fingers clenching compulsively around your chilled glass.
Ghost shifts, and you feel the thick muscle of his bicep roll behind your head. He grunts in quiet agreement. 
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t say anything else, uninterested in justifying or explaining himself. It’s like he thinks that he doesn’t need to; he just keeps watching you, his light blond eyelashes drawing low over his eyes as his head tilts.
Self-conscious under his intensity, you glance away again. Soap is still talking, but you can’t focus. Despite the fact that Ghost is big and warm and so frustratingly attractive beside you, it’s hard to ignore the subtle prickle of irritation that’s growing under your skin. 
After all, he had taken your virginity and then proceeded to act as though nothing at all had changed between you for the rest of the week, and now he’s sat next to you with his gaze that heated? What the fuck?
The second drink goes down even easier than the first thanks to your awkwardness. You’re not sure what to make of his attention – you’ve spent the whole week keeping a sense of distance, determined to stay cool and casual. The last thing you want to do is freak him out by seeming like an over-eager idiot that’s gone and fallen in too deep with him, unwilling to lose whatever meagre respect Ghost has developed for you since you started working with the 141.
“I’ll get the next round.” You blurt suddenly, pushing yourself up off the couch.
It’s too abrupt to be casual, and you pointedly don’t look at the half-full glasses in your squad mates’ hands as you hurry away. You probably could have played that off better, but you need a moment to collect yourself away from Ghost’s relentless stare.
You take the opportunity to breathe at the bar, rubbing at your eyes and sighing. The bartender is busy, so you just stand there for a long moment, mentally chastising yourself.
God, this is just embarrassing. You’re a grown fucking woman, and here you are getting so ridiculously flustered over your lieutenant. You never thought that you’d be the type to turn into a silly little mess over the first man you ever sleep with, but maybe it was inevitable. The little embers of that crush you had been harbouring on Ghost since you joined the team have been fanned into a full on flame and you hardly know how to handle yourself.
It takes a significant effort to keep your attention away from the table; you can’t help but want to look, to see if Ghost is still looking your way, but you keep your eyes to yourself. 
When another body appears at your side, you jolt in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be followed, and your first thought is that it must be Soap. But when you glance to your side, you find a stranger standing closer to you than you expected.
Well, he’s not a total stranger. You know him to see around the base, sandy-haired with a too wide smile. You think he might be a second lieutenant, but you’ve never actually had any dealings with him and you can’t think of a name… Daniels, maybe?
“Hello there,” He says, and even with those two words his intentions are unmistakable. His tone is suggestive, as is the way his eyes scan over your body. “How you doing?”
It’s far from the first time you’ve been hit on by men; it comes with the territory of being a woman in a male-dominated environment. They look at you like they want to eat you sometimes, in a way that sets your teeth on edge. You’ve always danced around the subject of intimacy, embarrassed about your lack of experience and too anxious to actually seek out anyone to change that. What happened with Ghost was unexpected, and just about changed your entire outlook on sex and physical pleasure for life. 
Your first reaction, as always, is to shut him down or ignore him. But something makes you pause, and glance back at him. 
He’s sort of cute. A charming smile, at least. When he sees you looking back, he only smiles wider and steps closer.
“Let me get this next one for you,” He says, gesturing at the bartender to catch his attention. “What’re you having?”
“Uh..” You hesitate a moment, biting your lip. “Vodka soda.”
He orders, then leans against the bar and turns to face you fully. His gaze is appreciative, and for once you don’t shy away from it. You so rarely return male attention that you hardly know what to do, but you manage to muster up an awkward smile.
When the bartender returns with your drink, you feel a momentary pang of guilt. You had almost forgotten that you were meant to order drinks for the table, and you send a swift glance over your shoulder. 
The boys are still engrossed in their conversation, hardly even noticing your absence. All but Ghost.
The lieutenant has half-turned, his arm still slung over the couch where you had been sitting as he stares. The realisation that his eyes are still on you has your spine straightening, self-conscious now about your posture and your body language. 
You look away swiftly, and try not to feel guilty. You’re not doing anything wrong, after all. He hasn’t spoken to you all week despite the fact that he’d nearly done your back in fucking you.
Your experience with Ghost may have been a one-time thing, no matter what you might have been hoping for, but there’s no reason that it has to be a one-time thing for you with anyone else. Even with your stupid vibrators and dildos, you haven’t been able to come close to coming in the week following your night with your lieutenant. You’re starting to wonder if maybe you’re not capable of coming without someone else’s hands on you.
“I’ve seen you around, been meaning to talk to you,” Daniels is saying, and in your distraction you almost miss it. “But it’s, uh… it’s a little difficult to catch you alone.”
You almost scoff, but you manage to swallow it back down. You know exactly what he means; the 141 sticks together and looks out for each other, but it also sometimes feels like you have a couple of overprotective guard dogs. They take watching you seriously, probably due to your non-combat role on the team, and you’ve never discouraged it because you like the way they make you feel safe. 
“Yeah, the guys can be a little protective.” You laugh a little weakly. “But don’t mind them.”
Even now, you can feel Ghost’s dark eyes burning into you from across the room. You wonder how on earth Daniels remains so unaware of it.
“Mm,” Daniels leans in, his white teeth glinting. “Can’t blame them, I suppose. Why don’t you come and join me and some of the lads at our table for a bit? Spend some time with some new people.”
You shift on the balls of your feet, thinking. Admittedly, you’ve never been big on socialising when on base, other than the usual minor exchange of pleasantries. You hardly even know what to do in the face of a man’s interest in you now.
“Oh, I’m not sure.” You demur, reaching up to scratch absently behind your ear. “I don’t think the boys would appreciate me abandoning them for the night.”
Daniels’ smile widens, and you feel your cheeks heat. You feel clumsy with your socialising, as though you’re stretching muscles you’re not used to using. Since you had joined the 141, you hadn’t done too much mingling outside of the squad; they’ve been your only friends and confidantes, ribbing and supporting you in equal measure. In the face of a stranger in the on-base cantina, you find yourself floundering.
“I think they get enough of your time,” He murmurs, leaning against the bar in such a way that his body is angled towards you. “C’mon, I’ll buy you another few drinks and we can get to know each other, huh?”
Maybe the vodka was a bad idea. It’s lowering your inhibitions, making you actually consider his offer. You’re pent up from a week of unsuccessful touching yourself, and you crave physical intimacy. 
If you can’t get a repeat performance from Ghost, then maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible if you looked elsewhere, with someone who might be interested in more than a one time thing.
You glance down at Daniel’s hands where they’re wrapped around his beer glass. They’re big, with strong slender fingers and calloused knuckles. Nice hands, you think, but you can’t help but compare to the enormous thick paws of your lieutenant. Still, you think they’d do the job.
“Well–” You start to say, your tone wavering and uncertain as you consider his officer.
But you don’t get to give him an answer before a massive hand settles on your shoulder. It makes you jolt, startled, recognising Ghost by touch alone. It feels as though it sears straight through your clothes, and your eyes widen.
For a moment, Ghost says nothing at all. He just stands at your shoulder, so close that you feel the muscle of his chest and stomach brush against your back, and stares at Daniels from over the top of your head. The glare isn’t even directed your way, and yet you find yourself wilting from it.
“On your way, Sergeant.” Ghost drawls, lifting his chin and gesturing at him dismissively.
Despite Ghost’s obvious intimidation factor, Daniels doesn’t immediately do as he’s told. He huffs out a short breathless laugh instead, as though he can hardly believe what he’s hearing.
“We’re only talking, Lieutenant–”
Ghost doesn’t even respond. His glower just intensifies, until Daniels trails off and his mouth snaps shut. You get the impression that if anyone else tried to intimidate him just by staring and posturing, Daniels might actually square up and fight. He seems like the type to make poor decisions while drinking – maybe you were going to be one of them. 
But as it is, Ghost has an intimidation factor unmatched by anyone else you’ve ever known. It goes beyond his giant hulking physique and skull mask and low gravelly voice that can sound like a clap of thunder when he’s angry. It’s like he has an aura, something that radiates off him in dark waves saying ‘Don’t fuck with me’. Any sensible person would back the fuck off when faced with his full, unwelcoming attention.
And sure enough, Daniels is no exception. He raises his arms to his shoulders and gives Ghost a mocking sort of smile before retreating backwards. To your mortification, he doesn’t so much as glance your way even as he turns his back on you.
Irritation settles over you like a blanket. It makes your skin itch and your teeth grind, and you turn to scowl at Ghost.
“What the hell was that?” You demand, and your voice comes out sharper than you had technically intended.
Ghost’s head tilts, and those sharp dark eyes find you from behind the mask. The eyeblack is beginning to fade in patches around the inner corners of his eyes – bizarrely, it serves as a reminder that Ghost is just a man, not just a massive wall of muscle with a terrifying glower.
“What was what?” He says. His voice has dropped a notch, deep and rumbling into you even as you step away and turn so that you’re facing him head on.
“You– I was just–” You flounder for a moment, searching for words as you gesture uselessly with your hands. 
You’re indignant over his interruption, and your frustration grows as you find yourself unable to articulate yourself. Where the hell does he get off interrupting you talking to another man? He hadn’t spoken to you all week, and now he feels confident enough to cockblock you?
“Mm.” Ghost grunts. “What were you doing?”
Your jaw clenches. “I was talking. Is that a crime now?”
Jesus, you sound like a brat. You don’t even know where this insubordination is coming from; he’s your lieutenant, regardless of that one night you had spent with him. You’re being too bold talking like this, but it’s like you just can’t help yourself.
His eyes darken, lashes blocking out his irises as his gaze narrows at you. You force yourself to maintain eye contact, to keep your spine straight and shoulders back despite your impulse to crumble.
“Watch that mouth, doll.” He warns, his voice low, and you feel your stomach tighten at both his words and his tone. 
But your self-preservation instincts are still missing.
“You can’t ignore me all week and then get annoyed at me when I–”
He cuts you off as though he’s not even listening to you. “Not here. Come on.”
And with that, he wraps one big hand around your upper arm and begins leading you out of the cantina. He’s not harsh, and he doesn’t drag you or anything, but judging by the tense set of his shoulders arguing with him would be a really bad idea right now. 
You’ve pissed him off, and you don’t want to make his mood worse so you allow your feet to move automatically as he leads you out of the room.
You can feel eyes on your back as you leave, and you feel yourself grow squirmy with embarrassment. No doubt the rest of the squad is watching you get hauled off by Ghost right now. 
Oh god, the Captain is watching you get hauled off — how mortifying. You pray they didn’t catch your little exchange with Ghost at the bar, but you have a feeling that hope is in vain. The 141 are close-knit and protective over each other, but they’re also terrible gossips.
“Let me– Sir, let me go–” You start to complain, testing his grip. His hold on you is iron-clad, and yet still somehow gentle enough to avoid bruising.
When you realise where he’s leading you to, you stop complaining very quickly. You had figured that he was just going to drag you into the corridor outside and give you a talking to, but he doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until you realise that he’s leading you all the way back to your own damn room
“What are you doing?” You demand in a hiss. You’re so incensed that you swear your hair is standing on end. 
After all that, is Ghost seriously hauling you back to your room like you’re a bold child? Is he angry because of your insubordination at the bar? 
A cold trickle of anxiety enters your stomach, and you steal a worried glance at his face. The hard-shell mask he uses on missions has been traded for the softer black woven balaclava that he usually wears when he’s not in the field, but it doesn’t make him any easier to read.
He doesn’t answer until the two of you have crossed the threshold of your room, the door shutting behind you with a firm click.
Now that it’s the two of you, alone once again in your tiny shitty room, you find your indignant confidence waning rapidly. He’s just so big, the huge masculine frame of him making you feel more ridiculous than ever for your momentary flash of brattiness. Even worse, having him in your space like this is only making your brain go into overdrive, as though your body remembers what happened the last time he was here like this.
You decide that the best defence mechanism to prevent yourself from looking like a fool is to cling onto those last little dregs of anger.
“You’re unbelievable.” You snap, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me all week! And then as soon as another guy speaks to me, you’re over to me like a light. I mean, what the fuck?” And then, remembering the chain of command, you add a very sullen, “Sir.” 
Throughout your mini little rant, Ghost has just watched you. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t know how to read, unable to get a feel for what he’s thinking through that inscrutable mask.
“‘S not true.” He grunts after a moment, and you realise that his eyes have creased in a way that suggests he’s frowning.
You feel like you’re going to explode. “Yes, it is! Daniels was barely speaking to me for two minutes before you scared him off–”
Bizarrely, your words make Ghost snort. You hadn’t even realised how tense his shoulders were until he relaxes, and you stare at him in confusion as he steps past you towards your bed. Your anger fizzles out, leaving behind self-conscious confusion as you watch your lieutenant settle down so that he’s sitting at the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide. 
“His name is Davidson.” He says, and his voice is missing the somewhat dangerous edge it had only moments earlier. “And that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
Embarrassment flares, though you try to stifle it. So you didn’t know the guy’s name – whatever. You would have learned it by the end of the night, you’re certain. You open your mouth, defensive and prickly, but Ghost speaks again before you get the chance to.
“I haven’t been ignoring you.” He says, watching you like he’s trying to figure you out. When you just blink at him, he sighs. “Jesus, sweetheart, just sit down for a second. Tell me what I did wrong, yeah?”
You’re left feeling a little wrong-footed, hesitating in the middle of the room. You had expected him to be a little angrier than this, to chide you for your behaviour. Or maybe you had expected him to be cold, or dismissive.
Slowly, you take a few steps towards the bed. He watches you approach, those dark eyes watchful and sharp, but says nothing as you nervously perch on the bed beside him. 
Despite the fact that this is your room, you’re stiff when you sit next to him. Your brain is in overdrive, providing you with very unhelpful memories of the last time Ghost was on your bed and flooding your body with mortifying heat.
“You’ve barely spoken to me since we–” You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, averting your gaze and staring at some point past his shoulder. “Since last week. If you wanted to keep it professional, that’s– that’s fine–”
Ghost’s spine straightens, but he doesn’t speak yet. He just watches you, and lets you flounder awkwardly as you struggle to articulate yourself.
“I don’t want to make things awkward, I just–” You’re tripping over your words, wincing when they come out all clumsy. “I’ve never done this before, so I’ll follow your lead, but I don’t understand the point of sending Dan– Davidson, whatever, away like that if you’re clearly trying to keep things between us professional–”
Finally, Ghost speaks, though it seems like he’s suddenly developed incredibly selective hearing.
“He’s a wanker. Chases around any woman that stands still for too long in that damn cantina every time we’re in there.” His voice is a low earnest rumble, but you’re too agitated to properly hear him. “He didn’t have anything to offer that you’d be interested in.”
“That’s not–”
“Besides,” He cuts clean across you, but so gently, so much so that it surprises you. “I think we long surpassed professionalism when you asked if you could use my cock like a dildo.”
Blood rushes to your head so fast you feel a little light-headed. Right, so he’s decided to cut straight to the chase then. You swallow, and your dry throat clicks audibly.
“Right.” You say. “Yeah, that– um… that’s made things awkward, I suppose.” A brief pause, and then you sheepishly add, “Sorry, LT.”
Ghost just watches you, his brown eyes inscrutable beneath the fan of his pale eyelashes. Under the dark fabric of the mask you see his jaw flex, as though he’s considering his next words carefully.
“C’mere.” He says.
You had been expecting him to say more, and you hesitate a moment before reluctantly shuffling over a few inches. Though he had invited you to move closer to him, you’re suddenly so conscious of crossing any possible boundaries. 
You had never slept with anyone before, and you don’t understand what’s expected of you now. How are you supposed to act, now that you’ve had a one-night stand with your lieutenant? 
“Haven’t been ignoring you,” Ghost says, and he reaches out to place a hand on your knee. The touch makes your eyes widen, gaze darting down to stare at his thick fingers where they wrap around the underside of your knee. “You jokin’? Been watching you all week. Thinkin’ about you all the time.”
That’s a bold enough statement that all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You can’t deny that he’s been watching you – you had felt his eyes on you regularly, but always from a distance. But… 
“You never–” You start to say, before swallowing again so you don’t say something stupid. “You haven’t spoken to me.”
“Spoke to you during training, before you stopped showing up.”
That’s a little galling, and all you can do is scowl. 
“Stop that. You know what I mean.” You snap defensively. 
Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think Ghost might be confused behind that stupid mask. His head has tilted just slightly to the side in the same way as it usually does when he’s trying to figure something out.
“I was trying to give you space, doll.” He murmurs. “It was your first– I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Wanted you to make your own choices.”
The uncertainty in his voice is unexpectedly endearing, but you’re not ready to let go of your irritation with him just yet. Admittedly you’re losing steam, but you struggle to straighten your back and affect a scowl nonetheless.
“I didn’t want space.” You say, and it comes out a little more childish than you had intended it to. You try not to cringe at yourself. “You just– we never talked about anything, you just woke up the next morning and left and then all week you hardly spoke to me.”
You curse your inexperience even as you speak, feeling like a total idiot. You just wish you knew what was expected of you, what Ghost wants. Was he put off by the fact that he had to guide you, fumbling and clumsy, through an experience that was absolutely mind-blowing for you but probably sub-standard for him?
And oh, that thought makes dread curl in your belly. What if Ghost wasn’t impressed with your… performance? You had no idea what you were doing, only that the way Ghost had touched you felt so good, so much better than you’ve ever managed to make yourself feel with your fingers or toys. And when he had brought you to orgasm, you had lost yourself completely. You hadn’t made any attempt to return his attention, too lost in all the new pleasure you were experiencing.
There’s a pause, the silence between you stretching taut. Ghost doesn’t rush to reply, instead apparently thinking hard before he speaks. 
“I go for a run in the mornings.” He says at last, his voice low and rumbly. 
It takes you a moment to process that. 
“You– what?”
Ghost shifts, and the cheap standard issue mattress beneath the two of you squeaks. “That morning, I… went for a run.”
He must realise how that sounds – maybe the expression on your face tips him off – because he hurries to add on to it. “Creature of habit, love. I didn’t– I don’t do this often either. I stayed the night, we cuddled. I thought–”
He stops rather abruptly, and doesn’t finish so you don’t quite know what he thought. Your confusion has gotten the best of you, and you’re staring at him in agitated confusion. God, he’s bad at communicating.
“Should have stayed.” He says gruffly, and if you’re not mistaken he sounds a little chagrined. “Thought we were fine, until you started avoiding me. And then I thought you just needed time to yourself.” He gives a jerky shrug, clearly out of his comfort zone. “‘Cause it was your first time. Dunno.”
Oh. Well.
Now you’re the one blinking at him. That’s… not what you had been expecting. 
While you thought Ghost had been giving you the cold shoulder, he had thought that he was being considerate. Jesus. You’re not sure how to even begin processing that.
“I didn’t need time to myself.” You say, and you sound pathetic.
There’s a beat of silence during which you feel thoroughly examined. Ghost hardly even blinks as he watches you, his scrutiny making you sweat.
“No,” He rumbles after a moment. “Apparently you didn’t.”
You roll your eyes, honestly a little irritated with him. Even after it’s been made clear that your miscommunication has caused issues this whole week, he’s still so hesitant to just fucking talk to you. 
“Right, well–” You start to say, a little sharp. 
He grabs at you before you can retreat, his enormous hand comically large around your wrist. He’s not holding you harshly, his grip just loose enough that you could break out of it if you tried. But instead of pulling away, you allow him to tug you closer. His free hand reaches for your hip, and quicker than your tired mind is able to follow he’s tugged you up into his lap.
“Jesus–” You blurt, grabbing at his shoulders for balance.
Ghost is built like a brick house, all thick and sturdy with all that solid muscle. He’s broad too, and your legs are forced wide as he encourages you to settle in his lap. You try not to let your reaction show on your face, but Ghost is watching you so carefully that you’re certain he can read every micro-twitch anyway.
“Last week wasn’t enough?” He asks, and if you’re not mistaken he sounds hungry. Maybe you could even delude yourself into thinking there’s an undertone of hope, too.
But maybe that’s a step too far. This is the Ghost, after all. He’s veritably a human weapon, every inch of him battle-scarred and solid beneath the heavy clothes and thick mask. You’re pretty sure that any kind of yearning you hear has been prescribed by your own imagination. But you can’t help yourself.
You shake your head, your breath catching in your chest. No, last week wasn’t enough.
“Then why bother with that idiot at the bar?” Ghost asks, his big hands folding around your hips. “If you wanted to be fucked, you could have just asked me.”
You swallow thickly, your throat clicking audibly. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to speak so bluntly, but it’s typical of Ghost to get straight to the point without beating around the bush. 
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to do that with me again.” You say, your voice edged with insecurity. 
There’s a long moment of silence during which Ghost just stares at you. It’s borderline uncomfortable, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Even with the mask acting as a barrier, he’s still so intense.
“What made you think that?” He asks, his voice low.
You find yourself quite abruptly aware of the position you’re in. You’re sitting perched in your lieutenant’s lap with your legs spread wide, after a week of pining after him like an embarrassing little puppy. You’ve been craving physical contact, yearning desperately for that same kind of pleasure he had introduced to you ever since your night together. 
“You’re difficult to read.” You whisper awkwardly, shifting. You’re hyper-aware of your weight in his lap; even though you know he’s strong, the thought of being too heavy for him is a little mortifying.
But his hands tighten around your hips, keeping you securely in place across his thighs.
“You think so?” His voice is low, a little rough, and the gravel of it causes a little frisson of heat to trickle down your spine. “You been trying to read me? Can’t have been doin’ a very good job, darling, since you’ve been avoiding me all fuckin’ week.”
Your breath comes out tremulously, and you pray he can’t hear the shake in your voice when you speak. Judging by his darkening gaze, he hears it loud and clear. 
“I just– Didn’t know if you would want me again.” You whisper, feeling foolish and inexperienced and clumsy.
Ghost watches you, his dark eyes flickering over your face, before he finally hums. Then his grip tightens around your hips and he pulls you so that your clothed crotch grinds against him. You gasp, your eyes widening when you feel the thick ridge of his cock in his tac trousers, unmistakably hard as your clothed cunt slides over him.
“Feel that?” He asks, his voice dropping into that deep, hungry register that you’ve been hearing in your dreams all fucking week.
“Yeah.” You choke, fighting the urge to grind on him like a fucking slut. If your hips twitch, just a little, you think you could be excused.
You are already intimately familiar with his cock, considering how eagerly he had fucked you open on it a week ago (several times, too), but the way it fills his trousers makes it seem ridiculously big and you wonder, a little wildly, how the fuck it ever fit in you in the first place. It presses against the seam of his trousers, right between your legs, and then Ghost grinds up into you and you swear your vision sparks out for a moment.
“Oh!” You blurt out in a wavering whisper, clutching at his shoulders. “Oh, god.”
“Still think I don’t want you?” He grunts. His hands are like fucking shovels, and he takes a grip of your ass and squeezes until you squeak.
Your head is swimming. Your trousers are too tight, the crotch of them pressing into your clit, and you feel like you can't get enough air in your lungs. 
“I don’t know.” You say stupidly. 
It’s like your cunt knows that Ghost is near, because you’re fucking drenched. You can feel your underwear stick uncomfortably to you beneath your clothes, slick and wet as you feel the shape of Ghost’s cock press into you.
He sighs beneath you, his big palm stroking over your ass affectionately. 
“You think too much, doll.” He mutters, his finder squeezing into the plush flesh of your ass like it’s a stress toy. “Way too fuckin’ much.”
He’s probably right. God, you want to stop thinking. Want to return to that stupid, dazed, fucked-out state of mind he had sent you to when he had stuffed you full.
Hesitantly, you grind yourself down onto the thick bulge beneath you. It feels good, that familiar pleasant little spark jolting up your spine as you hump yourself against him.
“Yeah,” Ghost grunts, his voice thick with unmistakable want. “That’s it. You’ve been wanting this, havent’cha?”
“Yeah.” You admit, so quietly that it’s almost inaudible. “Yeah, I want it.”
But Ghost hears. Of course he does. He lets out a low sound that has your thighs squishing closed around his hips, overwhelmed and running far too hot. 
He has you on your back so quickly that your head spins, and you end up staring at the ceiling for a moment in bewilderment, trying to figure out how you’d gotten there. Ghost is already leaning over you, his dark eyes intent on your face as he settles between your thighs.
You think you should probably be embarrassed about the ease with which you spread your legs, eager to feel his bulky body between your thighs. But you’re already running hot, your chest tightening with want, and you find yourself mercifully relieved that he’s here. The miscommunication between the two of you is going to be solved, Ghost wants you, and you’re about to get what you’ve been craving all week.
He pulls your own pants off effortlessly, leaving you in the underwear that you’ve fucking ruined. You try to shut your legs, face burning hot with embarrassment as you try to hide the sight, but Ghost doesn’t have any intention of letting you hide yourself.
He pushes your legs back open, then presses his masked face to the inside of your thigh. You’re not sure what he’s doing; you remember, with a little thrill, the feeling of his red hot mouth against your pussy, but you don’t think that’s what’s happening here because he’s still got his stupid fucking balaclava on.
“Did she miss me?” He asks, his words muffled by both the mask and the pudge of your thigh.
“What?” You ask breathlessly, thinking for a moment that Ghost is talking about you in the third person.
But then he nuzzles his masked face against the sodden seat of your knickers, and you realise that he’s talking about your fucking pussy.
“Oh my god, you weirdo–” You choke out, but you don’t get any further than that before Ghost is tugging impatiently at your underwear, trying to reveal your cunt. 
He hushes you, almost absent-mindedly, and you hear him take a breath when he finally manages to get your knickers off. He tosses them aside, his dark eyes focused intently on your bare cunt now that it’s been revealed. It’s embarrassing, but you can’t bring yourself to try and hide again. He’s touching you so reverently and looking at you so hungrily that you’re not brave enough to try to deprive him of the sight.
“My fussy girl,” He mutters, low enough that you almost don’t hear him. “Have you been touching yourself? Using your toys this week?”
You shiver, a little embarrassed. You have been using your stupid toys, but they haven’t been working. No matter what you do, you can’t replicate the feelings that Ghost had managed to elicit in you with such ease, and you have a sinking feeling that he knows that.
But the mention of your toys reminds you of something else, too. A recurring thought that’s been practically haunting you, that’s had you imagining Ghost up above you and around you as you’d sucked experimentally on your dildo, sliding it into your mouth just to see how much of it you could take.
“Wait–” You say, and though your voice wavers, Ghost sits back immediately, eyes on your face. It’s like he’s just waiting for your word, an order, a direction. Something in your belly warms, and you take a breath.
“I want to try something.” You tell him before you can lose your nerve. “Sit back down.”
He sits at the edge of your bed, his bulky frame moving far more gracefully than you’d expect for his size if you hadn’t already seen him in action. He’s almost patient, until you catch the way the fingers of his right hand drum against his thigh as he waits for you to do something.
Since you’re already stripped from the waist down, you see no point in remaining clothed on top too. When you pull your top and bra off, Ghost makes a low appreciative rumble deep in his chest that you swear you can feel run down your spine. 
“Promising start.” He says, and you want to smack him.
You shoot him a little scowl, before deciding to just ignore him. You’ve fancied him for an embarrassingly long time, probably since the very first time you had laid eyes on him upon joining the task force, and now he’s sitting on your bed, willing and hard and admitting that he wants you. It takes your breath away a little, especially the way that he doesn’t seem put off by your inexperience at all.
Slowly, you sink to your knees in front of him and watch his eyes widen beneath the balaclava. It’s somewhat gratifying to see his surprise; like you’ve finally got one over on your big bad lieutenant. 
“Very promising start.” He says, and this time he sounds a little husky. “D’you know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”
The answer is, very obviously, no. You have no idea what you’re doing, you’re learning as you go along. But Ghost hasn’t judged you yet for your clumsy fumbling exploration, so you can only hope that he’s willing to put up with this too.
“Sort of.” You say evasively. “I’ve seen it in porn, and I’ve… I’ve been practicing.”
Ghost’s groan sounds like it’s been punched out of him, and it’s rough enough to have you glancing up in surprise from where you’re trying to get his stupid trousers unbuttoned. Your hands are unsteady and unsure, and it’s slow-going.
“Yeah?” He asks, sounding a little out of breath himself. “Which one?” “What?” You’re a little distracted, not paying full attention to his question as you tug at his trousers. You’ve finally got them unbuttoned, and you pull impatiently in an effort to get them off. Ghost lifts his hips to help, though your eager impatience seems to amuse him.
“Which one of your toys’ve you been practicing on?” He asks, the barest undertone of a groan in his voice. “The pretty little pink one?”
You feel embarrassed heat prickle in your face because yes, it had in fact been that one you had been practising with. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that you’re apparently so predictable that Ghost can guess which dildo you’ve been sucking at, imagining it was him.
“Maybe.” You mutter evasively.
Ghost lets out a low chuckle right as you manage to wrangle his cock out of his briefs, and then you have to pause for a moment because oh. You had known, of course, that he was big. You had felt him for days after that first time, like a fucking internal bruise that ached at you every time you moved. He was bigger than any toy that you owned, you know that, you’ve felt it, and yet now that it’s in front of your face it seems so much bigger than you remember.
You’ve watched porn with so-called ‘monster cocks’ and it isn’t like that. It’s just… bigger. Than average, that is. At least, as far as you can tell, because it’s not like you have enough experience with dicks in real life to have any idea of what average really is.
Ghost must recognise the momentary flash of panic that crosses your face, because he reaches out and strokes a gloved thumb over your cheek. The fabric is rough against your skin, but you relax at the feeling anyway.
“You don’t have to.” He says quietly.
“I want to.” You insist, swallowing that swell of nerves. 
Now that his cock is bobbing in front of your face, you have to fight the sinking feeling that you’re in over your head. But you’re not willing to back down; not when you’ve been thinking about this all damn week, and especially not when you’ve got the man that stars in all of your fantasies sitting on your bed with his legs spread.
You shuffle forward a little, and try not to feel intimidated at the fact that Ghost’s thick thighs twitch when you reach to take hold of his cock. He’s so big that it feels like he’s dwarfing you beneath him, his bulky form enveloping you in shadow when he leans forward to make sure he has a good view of what you’re doing.
You stroke experimentally over his cock, your fist a little clumsy. Despite your frenzied and very pleasurable tumble with him before, you had never actually gotten the chance to touch him in return. You had been too overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of sensation he had delivered upon you to even think about returning any favours, and the fact that you’re getting the opportunity now to reciprocate and explore fills your tummy with butterflies.
“Grip it harder, love.” He grunts, shifting his hips so that he can fuck his cock into your fist. “It ain’t gonna break.”
“Shh,” You admonish him, glancing up with a frown. “Let me do it myself.”
Ghost snorts quietly, probably finding your determination silly, but he still his hips and lets you go at your own pace. His dick is big, and you stare at it with some level of wonder as you stroke your fist over him. You can’t help but compare the feel of him to your dildos, only because they’re your only real point of reference; his skin is velvety soft and hot to the touch, yielding despite how hard he is, and you admire the slide of his foreskin pulling down over the crown. 
It’s not the size that really catches your attention though. No, what you really notice is how fucking perfect it is. Pretty and pink, flushed more red towards the tip, the head shiny with just a hint of smeared pre-come. It curves, slightly, to the left, and it feels nice in your hand. You feel a little light headed as your eyes dart over the pale blond downy hair that covers his thighs and the base of his cock. 
You gather your courage, then lean in and lick tentatively at the rosy pink crown of his cock. You had been a little worried about the taste, having no idea what to expect, but you needn’t have been. He‘s a little salty, but nothing inoffensive; he just tastes like skin, and you relax a little in relief.
He groans, his head tilting back to stare at the ceiling. You pause, hoping for some sort of direction, and as the moment stretches out he looks back to you and tilts his head.
“Thought you wanted to do it yourself?”
Bastard, you grumble in your head, before steeling yourself. You know that your grip on him is clumsy, that your stroking is unpracticed, and you can only pray that he doesn’t mind.
You take his cock into your mouth, jaw hinged wide as you try to avoid using your teeth, and attempt to suck with no finesse. You go too fast, try to take too much too quickly, because all of a sudden the head is tickling the back of your throat and you’re coughing, choking, and sputtering. 
You pull back, blinking rapidly as your eyes sting with tears and drool drips unattractively down your chin. You go to wipe your face, but Ghost catches your wrist before you can.
“Slow down,” He murmurs, pulling your hands away from your face so he can look at you. “You in a rush?”
“No.” You grumble, and your voice comes out a little hoarse from the choking. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Even though you’re quite certain that Ghost already knows that, it’s a little humiliating to admit.
Ghost just hums, his eyes tracking over your petulant expression and the stringy spit that’s trickling down your chin, falling in thick globs above your tits.
“Don’t matter, love.” He rumbles, reaching out to thumb at your chin. You think for a moment that he’s wiping you clean, but then he just ends up smearing your spit all around your mouth. “Play with it as much as you want to. Don’t think too much.”
You swallow, the sound a little too loud in the quiet of your room, before nodding. This is what you wanted – the chance to touch him, to explore his mouth with your hands and mouth just like he had done with you before.
You readjust your grip on his cock; it looks so stupidly big in your hand. You can tell that he notices too, because he lets out a gruff sort of groan before he reaches out, one hand winding around the back of your neck to cup at the base of your skull.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He breathes, his eyes locked onto you.
His eyes are dark, almost completely blacked out by the thickness of his pupil, and he stares down at you with an air of such anticipation that you couldn't dream of keeping him waiting. Gripping him in your hand, you give an exploratory sort of stroke — the skin is velvety soft and smooth, and he lets out a short groan of appreciation when your fingers caress the head of his cock.
You start moving your hand again, adjusting your grip and stroking him off. You wish you were better at it, or at least more confident, but Ghost doesn’t seem to have any complaints. He just grunts quietly, flexing his hips once before apparently remembering what you had said and going still.
It takes a moment before you work up the confidence to bring it anywhere near your mouth again, but finally you lean forward and press a gentle little kiss to the head of his cock. You’re rewarded with a quiet puff of laughter, and his thumb strokes a soothing circle into the back of your neck.
Encouraged, you dip your head and lick the tip of him properly. He tastes salty on your tongue as you take him carefully into your mouth. This time you just suckle at the head, not wanting to push yourself too fast. His taste isn’t nearly as strong as you had been expecting; you hardly notice, really, enjoying the weight of his cock on your tongue and the feeling of being encircled by his big thighs.
It sounds stupid and maybe a little paradoxical, but you feel safe like this; Ghost towers over you even sitting down, and when you’re on your knees for him like this with his thick thighs bracketing you and his clean musky smell in your nose, you swear you never want to leave this moment.
You let out the most pathetic little whisper ever when you suckle at his cock, your tongue licking insistently at the underside of his glans. Ghost is always fairly stoic beneath that mask (other than his occasional bursts of humour and arrogance), so managing to pull out the soft but heavy breaths from his mouth when you suck at him makes pride swell in your chest, warm and syrupy sweet. It also makes something else twist in your belly, tight and hot enough to have your thighs squeezing tight together.
You used to have so many stupid, virginal plans for what you’d do the day you got your hands on some real, non-plastic cock, but everything you’ve ever heard about dicks and oral sex immediately flies right out of your head. You have no technique, and all you do is suck, gracelessly, trying to get as much of Ghost in your mouth as you can. You’re making loud, embarrassing slurping noises, and you’re certain that you’re drooling.
Judging by the grunts above you, Ghost has got no complaints about your technique (or lack thereof). One of his big hands reaches down to cup your face, fingers probing, testing at your jawline as it works.
“Fuck,” He snarls, tilting your chin up so he can see the way your lips are wrapped around the tip of his massive cock, “Knew you’d be good at this. Look at you, messy little thing. Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
That makes you shiver, an electric jolt that shoots right to your clit. You’re not sure what feels better; whether it’s his fat cock in your mouth or the hot wanting intensity in his eyes or the low filthy praises he’s growling.
God, you want to be good at this. You’re definitely no natural, but you fight so hard to push past your uncertainty to make this feel good for Ghost. 
You’re pretty sure he’s lying about you looking gorgeous, though. You’ve never felt less sexy than you do in this moment. Your eyes are streaming over-stimulated tears, your brow is scrunched in concentration, you’re gripping onto Ghost’s thick thighs for both balance and emotional support, and it’s taking everything you have not to choke on him again.
Who the fuck gave him the right to have a cock like this? Complaining about it feels borderline blasphemous, especially when you have first hand experience of just how good he is at using it. You’re making a mess of yourself, slobbering all over him in a way that’s definitely a little gross, but you’re surprised by just how much you’re enjoying this. 
You get a little too eager, because you take him a little too far down your throat and gag. You pull off quickly, choking lightly and still gasping for breath. Maybe your brain is a little oxygen-deprived, because you feel stupidly hazy. 
You take a moment to recover, nuzzling dazedly into the curls of his pubic hair. Blond, of course. God, that shouldn’t be cute but it is.
The thick length of his dick might be intimidating (as proven by the ache in your throat right now), but the velvety balls nestled below seem almost paradoxically vulnerable. You’re fascinated by the sight of them; you might have been amateurishly familiar with cocks from your dildos alone, but his balls are entirely new to you.
You spend some time lavishing them with tiny licks and kisses. Ghost hums in surprised pleasure, the sound swelling to a rumbling purr when you start caressing his thighs and hips with a tender, shy touch. 
Encouraged by his reaction, you return to his cock. It’s jutting proudly up, flushed a lovely pink colour, as though it’s just waiting for your attention once more. It’s already covered in a lather of foamy spit from your attention before, and when you sink your mouth down on him once again you do so with a bit more confidence.
“Like a pro, baby.” Ghost grunts appreciatively. A calloused thumb rolls over your cheek, under the fan of your lashes, and wipes away the moisture that’s gathered there. 
You most certainly are not sucking his cock like a pro, but you appreciate the encouragement all the same. It’s nice to know that you’re not doing a horrific job, at least.
You spare a glance up, half-expecting Ghost’s eyes to be closed. Instead his gaze is avid, sharp, practically electric through that thin window of his balaclava. He’s watching you closely, taking in every detail like it all might be snatched away from him. It’s too intense, and you look back down, focusing on his dick again.
An outraged, possessive noise escapes you when Ghost forcibly tugs your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth. It twitches a little once it’s been removed from the wet heat of your mouth, all shiny wet and pink, and you lick your lips. God, you want to get back on that, and you don’t understand why he’s taken it away from you.
Ghost lets out a low, breathy chuckle, reaching out to thumb at your spit-slick lower lip before reaching for your elbows and bodily hauling you back up onto the bed.
You practically bounce, falling back on the mattress and squirming to try and get your bearings again.
“No,” You say, and to your bewilderment it comes out on a sob. “I wanted you to come on my face–”
You can tell that Ghost’s expression does something strange beneath his mask because his eye twitches and he takes a deep breath. But he doesn’t put his cock back in your mouth. Instead he reaches back and pulls his shirt off, and you take a broken little inhale because last time he had fucked you, he’d hardly gotten undressed at all. But now you’re being blessed with the sight of scarred pale skin pulled taut over the thick swell of muscles that turn to a softer belly, that pale trail of curls starting just below his belly button. 
“Next time.” He says, and it comes out on the ghost of a groan. “Fuck, love, next time.”
He’s quick to hook his hands under your thighs and haul them apart. You just about have time to spread your legs before he’s muscling his way between them. He tugs impatiently at his balaclava, tugging it askew to reveal his mouth, then he presses his nose into your humiliatingly slick pussy and starts sucking at your clit like it’s a hard candy.
You shriek, your thighs clamping shut around his ears as you writhe, but he clearly has no intention of stopping. The muffled moans he lets out into your cushiony cunt vibrate in the best way, and he’s so brazen about it that it just about takes your breath away. You don’t even know if he can see anything, considering his mask is completely lopsided and his eyes aren’t lined up with the holes anymore, but he’s working with such enthusiasm that it doesn’t even matter.
And honestly, his enthusiastic pussy-eating combined with the sheer visual stimulation he’s providing is really doing it for you. 
You’re probably going to get a crick in your neck from the way you’re craning your head just to watch him hunch over you, that tongue of his peeking out from beneath the edge of his mask just to lick you. He’s built like a fucking god; thick muscles, soft tummy, and cushiony pecs. It might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Oh god, fuck–!” You choke out, your cunt clenching down hard as Ghost slides a finger into you.
Of course, Ghost’s fingers are also thicker than average. A single one of them feels like what would have been two of your own and you gasp a bit at the sudden stretch. You open up easily, your body welcoming him greedily and bearing down hard around his digits. Maybe it’s because you’re used to controlling the depth, speed and angle of penetration completely when you’re playing with your toys, but relying on Ghost for pleasure feels so damn exotic and exciting. Now you can only tilt your hips and go with Ghost’s pattern of movement; a bit harder, a bit deeper than what you would have done on your own.
He pushes another finger inside and it’s snug in your cunt, two fingers squished together nicely by your pulsing walls, hot and wet. It makes a sticky sound when he pushes them knuckle-deep, and then he sucks at your clit again, hard.
You’re honestly taken aback when your stomach tightens up and a wave of white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your back bows off the bed, you cover your mouth with a balled-up fist, your chest heaves.��
It’s exactly as good as you remember it being the first time, maybe even better, and the noises you make are broken and pathetic as you whine and cry.
Ghost licks you through it, big long laves of his tongue punctuated by sweet little suckles on your clit that feel almost fond. All you can do is lay there and take it, your head spinning a little as you catch your breath and try to figure out how the fuck he managed to make you come so damn quickly when you’ve been failing so spectacularly for a week.
You’ve barely finished coming, still shaking with the aftershocks, when he climbs up your body. At some point he’s shucked his trousers off, and the fact that he’s naked sends a little zing of excitement through your tired body. Or at least, as naked as Ghost tends to get. He’s still got the damn mask on.
He’s breathing heavily; his mouth is slightly ajar, mask tucked up around his crooked nose as he settles on his haunches between your thighs. He’s still staring hard at your cunt, his eyes glued to the way your clit is still twitching. He’s still so damn quiet, and you have no idea what he’s thinking.
When he reaches out to thumb at your clit again you whine. You’re sensitive, and his thumb is calloused and rough. You wiggle, lift up your leg and press your foot to his broad chest to stop him. You may as well be pushing against a brick wall for all the good it did.
Ghost just exhales a quiet laugh, capturing your ankle in his massive fist. He turns his head and kisses your ankle; the gesture is unexpectedly tender, and makes something in your chest tremble dangerously.
He uses his hold on your ankle as leverage to raise your leg, spreading your thighs out wide until your hips ache. You feel so exposed, the lips of your cunt parted ever so slightly, and he’s quick to press his cock against your still-twitching clit.
“Oh, look at her,” He breathes, low enough that you have to strain to hear. “Shite, she missed me, didn’t she?”
His hand is steady as he strokes his cock, dragging it through your sticky folds. The pretty pink head catches on your clit each time, and you let out a quiet whimper. Ghost doesn’t even notice; his eyes are zeroed in on your spread pussy, watching how you flutter around nothing.
“Fuck, she’s been waitin’ for me all week,” He coos, his cock notching at the entrance of your cunt and pressing in just enough for you to feel the stretch as his thumb rolls against your clit. “I know, baby, been waitin’ for you too.”
Jesus, you feel like you’re gonna die. You’re taking all these big deep shivering breaths, still trembling a little from your orgasm and eager for him to just fuck you already, but his filthy talk in your ear is sending you spiralling. You’re so wet it feels like you’ve sprung a leak; you can feel moisture running down your ass and under your thighs, and you burn with both mortification and desire.
Ghost presses his cock in a little further, and your back arches as you groan. Despite the orgasm and the fingering and the fact that you are so fucking aroused right now, the stretch is intense.
“Yeah, she’s beggin’ for me.” Ghost is still talking – at this point you think his words are meant just for himself, because they’re low and a little slurred, his eyes glassy as he stares at the way his cock spears through the slick folds of you. “Listen; it’s like she’s talking to me.”
For a second, you have no goddamn idea what he’s talking about. But then, in the silence, you hear the squelch of your drippy cunt as he squishes his cock against it in shallow little thrusts, barely even pressing the tip inside.
“Oh god,” You whine, high and needy. “Just– stop teasing.”
The bastard laughs, all low and gritty and a little breathless.
“It’s not teasing, lovie.” He says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week straight. I’m just reacquainting myself.”
Then he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a move so sweet that it honestly takes you aback. Every complaint in your head flies out the window, and you turn eagerly in an attempt to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so hot, his lips plush and hungry and a little salty. It occurs to you that you’re tasting yourself in his mouth, and your body draws up tight and tense in response. 
“Simon,” You breathe, intending to tell him to get a move on and just fuck you already, but you don’t even get as far as finishing the order.
He groans as though the sound of his given name is a signal, and before you know it you’ve got a huge wall of muscle hunched over you and around you as Ghost holds himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You feel his cock prodding at the entrance of your cunt and your legs fall even further open, until your hip joints ache.
When he starts to push in, the stretch burns in a way that makes your mouth fall open as you choke on the air in your lungs. You’re wet and pliable and eager, your pussy sucking hungrily at Ghost’s dick in an effort to take him deep quickly, but you had almost forgotten what this felt like. You can’t stop the way your cunt tightens eagerly as he rocks in an inch.
He laughs lowly in your ear, has to swallow back a groan when you clench tight around him, “C’mon, stop pushing me out, darling.”
“Wait,” You gasp, reaching down to place your hand over his belly. “Wait, oh my god, you’re too big–”
His stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he's putting in to keep from rocking into you all in one go, and you spare a moment to admire his patience and his sheer resolve to make things good for you. But even though he’s obediently paused to let you catch your breath, he chuckles quietly at your reaction.
“It’s only the tip, baby.” He murmurs, cooing softly to you like you’re something easily spooked. “You’ve taken it before. This pretty little cunt of yours is so hungry, gotta let her have it.”
You nod, hesitantly. He’s right; he may be big, but you’d taken him before. Only last week. And you had been a virgin then. Well, technically. Not physically, maybe, since you’d long stretched out your hymen on your dildos, but mentally. Though at least last week you had stretched yourself out on your vibrator, and then Ghost had spent so long opening you up with his mouth and fingers.
Ghost rocks forward another inch, and the stretch makes you squeal like a fucking stuck pig. It’s mortifying. How the hell did he ever manage to fit that fat cock inside you?
You slap at his belly hard, writhing away. 
“No, nope, not gonna fit.” You wheeze.
Ghost pulls back, and you can read the disappointed slant of his mouth and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock. Now that you get another look at it, you take a deep breath. It’s still well-lubed with your spit and the pink cockhead is shiny with your slick. 
It’s big, but you know you can take it. You just… you need better leverage.
Your jaw clenches in determination. “I need to be on top.”
There’s a moment of silence as those words settle between you, as though Ghost’s brain is buffering. Then his lips start curving up into that semi-familiar smug smile, and he rolls the two of you over so that he’s laying on his back in your bed with you perched clumsily atop his thighs.
His cock juts up proudly, practically bobbing as it leaks prespend down his length. He settles back, folding his arms behind his head as he watches you – the position makes his biceps bulge in a way that is very appealing and also most likely unintentional.
“Go on.” He encourages, as hungry and wanting as you’ve ever heard him. “All yours, gorgeous.”
All yours, your brain repeats, the words echoing around your skull until you’re certain that your head is empty but for that. You want him so much it makes you feel dizzy.
You shuffle forward until your pussy is hovering over the blood-flushed head of his cock. The cute pink blush has started to darken into a red that looks painful, and you take a little breath at the idea of helping him out with his little problem.
You lower yourself down so that the tip of Ghost’s cock is lined up with your entrance and begins pressing in, stretching you wide and slipping in inch by inch. You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open.
Though you’re the one controlling the pace, it still seems overwhelming, all-encompassing. You can feel your cunt stretching wide and taut around the width of him, fluttering as Ghost groans in dazed appreciation.
You glance up at him, to see that his eyes are a little unfocused, missing the intensity that they’ve had all night. His gaze is flickering from the way your cunt is sliding down on his cock to your breasts to your face, so fast as if he’s trying to take it all in before it disappears.
His oversized hands come to rest on your hips, and you half expect him to pull you down impatiently on his cock. But he doesn’t, they just rest there as though he needs to ground himself. His stomach is tensed so tight you know that his abs will be sore in the morning, and to your delight you can see a lovely pink flush climbing across his lightly-haired chest.
You keep your eyes on his half-masked face as you slowly rock your way down onto the length of him, your breath occasionally hitching. Though he doesn’t rush you, you can feel the way his fingers twitch on your hips and the way his jaw grinds, and all those little tells only increase your excitement.
You’re so full you feel like you’re about to break in half, and Ghost’s gaze on you feels like a physical weight, but you don’t stop. You wiggle clumsily, trying to take him deeper and unintentionally pulling gruff groans out of him every time your body tightens.
Then, finally, you take him to the hilt. He groans, his eyes half-lidded as he watches the way your body sits perched on his lap, little tremors rocking through you as you adjust to his size inside. 
“That’s my girl.” Ghost says, and the praise comes out on the edge of a growl. “Fuck, it’s like you were made for me.”
Tingling heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over him as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system – you’ve never heard Ghost sound so soft and wanting.
One of his hands reaches between you, one big thumb settling right over your swollen clit. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
“Would you have gone back to his quarters?” He asks, and the seemingly non-sequitur is too much for your dazed, cock-stupid mind to keep with.
“Huh?” You breathe, tentatively rocking your hips and moaning softly as his cock hits just right inside.
“The guy at the bar.” Ghost clarifies, his voice deep and a little irritated. “The one who was all over you. Would you have gone back with him?”
Oh, you think a little wryly. You should have known that he’d be a big possessive bastard.
“I don’t know.” You say, but you’re barely paying attention. You’ve started to rock for real now, and it feels good. Your rhythm is barely more than a slow grind – you think, distantly, that you should be lifting yourself up and down and fucking yourself properly, but grinding so that he hits deep and your clit rubs up against his pubic bone just feels so fucking intense.
“Waste of your time.” He grunts, his grip tight on your hips as he watches you hump lazily. “Jesus, look at the way you’re sucking me in. Cunt’s so fussy, she was just waiting for me.”
The worst part is, you think he might be right. You had been touching yourself every night this week, trying and failing to recreate the high he had brought you to. The touch just wasn’t the same, and no matter how close you got you just couldn’t fall over that damn ledge.
“Yeah,” You whine, hardly even aware of what you’re agreeing to. The sweet ache of the stretch has almost disappeared now, and you hump back onto his cock with abandon. Your chest is heaving as you pant, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. 
You tip forward, grabbing clumsily at his shoulders for balance as your face smushes against the cushiony softness of his pecs. God, he’s so strong, it’s like your body weight is nothing to him – he just accepts your whole body leaning into him, humming in satisfaction.
Tentatively, you lift yourself up a few inches so you can ease back down. You repeat the movement a few more times, and then you’ve established a steady pace of fucking yourself on his cock. 
“Simon,” You gasp, and it comes out in a whimper that’s far more pathetic than you had intended. “Am I– am I doing good?”
He’s gritting his teeth – you can see the tense line of his jaw as he tilts his head back, watching your face as you bounce stumblingly on his cock.
“Like I said, lovie, you’re a natural.” He says, exhaling harshly through his nose. “Gimme a kiss.”
When you lean forward to kiss him, the angle shifts and all of a sudden he's hitting the spot that makes your knees go weak. Your thighs are already burning from the exertion of riding him, but you whine desperately.
“There.” You moan into Ghost’s mouth, the two of you sharing air as you pant against each other’s lips. “Oh god, please–”
The muscles in his thighs ripple as he lifts his hips to meet yours as you bounce down, and then all of a sudden he’s fucking into you from below. The strength in his hips almost bodily lifts you every time he fucks up, though you almost thwart his every thrust as you try to grind on him again, trying to get his cock to hit just right again.
Fuck, your legs are tired and your knees are aching, but you can feel that glorious build up in your tummy again. Ghost has taken over most of the heavy lifting now too; instead of relying on you to bounce up and down, he’s drilling into that one spot inside you that sends liquid heat shooting up your spine.
Your mouth is hanging open and you’re pretty sure that you’re drooling all over his lovely, soft chest, but it just feels so good. You don’t understand how he does this, how he makes it feel so good for you. You think, a little wildly, that maybe your cunt was made for him.
“Fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight,” Ghost grunts, and his chest rumbles beneath your smushed cheek. “Gonna come again for me, sweetheart? Go on, cream on me.”
You didn’t actually think you were that close to another orgasm, despite how good it feels, but maybe Ghost knows you and your pussy better than you know yourself because you feel yourself go tight and gushy, nonsensical gasping and babbling spilling from your lips. The soft squelching noises your pussy makes as his cock fucks up into you is obscene, enough to make your nipples go tight and tingly.
Then his thumb rolls hard against the swollen bud of your clit and you’re gone. You think you might actually scream, but it’s muffled against the now drool-covered expanse of his thick, bulging pecs. 
You let out a choked out wail as your orgasm rips through you like an electric shock, leaving you trembling madly in its wake. You swear you come apart completely, unravelling at the edges as you writhe in his lap, grinding wildly even as he continues to fuck you through it. 
You don’t get even a moment of reprieve, because Ghost keeps going through the waves of your orgasm. He pulls you up to kiss you, sloppy and dirty, and then starts thrusting for all he’s worth. You’re put in mind of bull-riding, and your thighs clench hard as you try to stay seated as he bucks against you.
It's the most unravelled you’ve ever seen him. Ghost is always cool and in control, always meeting everything with smug, arrogant confidence. To see him glowing with sweat, his mouth lolled open under his rumpled balaclava as he snarls and grunts and fucks into you like an animal feels like a drug so heady you know you’re already addicted.
This is not the lazy rhythm of before; he’s uncoordinated and frantic, kissing you hard and messy as he shoves his cock up into you so hard that you’re sure it’s going to leave a permanent impression inside you. Maybe that’s what he’s aiming for. You take it easily, split open and pliant and soft and wet.
You’re oversensitive and shivery, breathing hard and whimpering on every other thrust, but you don’t complain. It only takes a handful of thrusts before Ghost finishes with a bitten off snarl, his jaw clenching and head tipping back as he pulls you off him just in time for his cock to spurt several thick ropes of creamy cum between you. Most of it lands on your belly, dripping down onto your pussy like icing on a cake, but some of it spurts onto Ghost’s own soft belly too.
It makes a mess, but you don’t care. You feel so dreamy-floaty happy right now, your limbs floppy and rubbery as you slump down onto his chest. He catches you easily, and lays you down gently onto the bed. 
You grumble when he moves, but you remember this part from last time. You don’t bother opening your eyes; you know he’ll come back.
Sure enough, he returns within moments, and you feel a warm, wet cloth wiping at your belly and inner thighs. You part your legs, pleased with the feeling of being looked after. When you blink your eyes open again, you see that he’s pulled the mask back down to cover his lovely, talented mouth. You try not to be too disappointed over that. His eyeblack is smeared too; it gives the impression of total debauchery. 
“You alright, love?” He asks, and you realise that you’ve just been staring blankly at him.
“Yeah.” You mumble, stretching your body out like a cat. Now that you’ve been given a moment, you can feel all those little aches flare to life between your legs, around your hips, and up the base of your spine. You wince, but don’t complain.
To your delight, Ghost climbs back into bed with you. He’s a little too big for the standard issue frame, but you’re more than happy to roll on top of him and cuddle close to conserve space. He seems similarly happy to have you all laid out on his chest, because he presses his masked face to the top of your head and inhales slowly.
“Are you staying, this time?” You ask quietly. You think you know the answer after your conversation earlier, but you can’t quite help the little pulse of insecurity.
“As long as you’ll have me.” He says, low in the quiet of the room. His tone is thick with significance, like he’s talking about more than just staying the night, and his fingers are sure and steady as he traces absent-minded little patterns down the length of your spine.
You swallow, heart racing, and rest your cheek against his chest. The steady thump, thump, thump of his own heart soothes you, and you bite your lip. He’s so solid, reliable. You’d trust him with your life, with anything. 
You glance down, your eyes curiously seeking out his now softening cock. It’s laying in a bed of his blond curls at his crotch, and it looks so unthreatening when it’s flaccid. You admire the shape of it absently, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the sight of it. You can’t lie to yourself and say you don’t feel a little possessive, either.
“Are we dating now?” You ask quietly. You’re not able to look him in the eye when you ask it, so you keep your face turned down. You don’t think you could handle seeing his expression if his answer is no.
There’s a pause. His hand halts the sweet patterns he’d been drawing on your back.
“Was that a question for me, or my cock?” He asks. He seems to be aiming for his usual sort of dry humour, but his tone comes out a little guarded, as though he’s actually not sure.
You raise your head, stifling your insecurity, and make eye contact with him. Those pretty brown eyes, so warm when they’re looking at you like this.
“You,” You say.
There’s another pause, and then his hand starts tracing its way over your bare back again.
“Yeah,” Ghost says, and the corners of eyes crinkle. “Stuck with me now, lovie.”
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romantic-reveries · 1 year ago
Text
I really, really hate how this friend brings out the worst in me.
I’m generally the kind of person who is very happy for other people’s happiness and successes, but the strife between us has made it to where I often feel bitter at any of her perceived successes because I don’t feel like she deserves it. Which is SO mean. God, I hate it.
She makes me feel like an insecure, lonely teenager again. She’s often made comments that feel so unnecessarily competitive, though. Last summer, she told me and our other friend (all virgins at the time), that she wanted to be the first to lose it. We were both like “okay, go for it” because neither of us cared (or at least, I certainly didn’t—I was 28 and a virgin in only the most technical sense because of pain, and saw no need to rush.)
Today, she found out that I’m not anymore, (our other friend hasn’t been for months), and one of the first things she says is: “I’m the last one :(“
This, after listening to a monologue on how she doesn’t want to rush into having sex, and she’s never even been sexually attracted to anyone because she’s demisexual and she just wants to be “normal” (she’s 23 and I kept assuring her that these are all very normal feelings and things I felt myself at that age when I still hadn’t ever been involved with anyone in any way at all) and she’s not going to have sex unless she’s on birth control, etc etc. It’s hilarious for her to be so hung up on having it when she doesn’t even actually sound like she wants to.
When I first met the guy I’m seeing, she’d also met someone on a dating app around the same time, and had the gall to say to me (before even actually MEETING this man): “you might have sex before me, but I’ll probably have a boyfriend before you” which just—? She didn’t say it in a catty tone. She truly said it as if she was acknowledging the weather—like it was a neat little observation. But it felt so incredibly mean. Like, that’s an inside thought. I’d already done more physically than her AND had a boyfriend (even if I hardly counted it), which meant she was only counting like, since we’d known each other. And it just felt like “you might have someone who wants to fuck you before me, but I’m gonna have someone actually WANT me before you”, which wasn’t even true because the guy I’m with has wanted me since the jump, sex or no. If I hadn’t dug my heels in about it, he would’ve been my “boyfriend” in a heartbeat, but I have reservations for a myriad of life reasons. And she knew I’d just been involved with a guy in December who I had wanted to be my boyfriend very badly. Regardless, it just felt like a shitty, weird thing to say to someone.
In a similar vein, around the beginning of the year, we watched a movie—some kind of Hallmark-esque Christmas film where the lead girl has an enchanted advent calendar that gives her a boyfriend. I made some kind of joke like “damn, I need one of those” and she agreed she did too, and then goes: “wait, no! You’ve been involved with someone more recently than me! It’s my turn!” And like, maybe it was supposed to be funny, but why, even as a joke, are you acting like we can’t both have and both deserve someone? As if we can’t both be in a relationship at the same time or something? It’s “her turn”—as if I had to wait for her turn to have mine again? Not to mention, my “turns” had hardly amounted to anything at all, and I’m older than her and have waited longer for it. She could’ve left the joke at “haha me too” and called it a day.
Instead of finding common ground in these moments, she wants to make it divisive, and I don’t get why. It could’ve been like “oh, isn’t it so cool that we both met someone at the same time?” or “haha yeah, I hope we both meet someone soon!”—having her be needlessly cutting and competitive in those ways has made me less than charitable toward her.
And then there are nights like tonight—I’ve had to hear about how Wednesday is “our” night to spend together, and how she doesn’t see me much anymore and doesn’t feel “like a priority”. And every week, I have to hear about how she doesn’t want to go to Singo. She can’t wait to get home and read. She’ll read AT Singo, on her phone. Tonight, she brought an honest-to-God book. To a BAR.
How in the fuck are we supposed to visit while we play a game where there’s loud music AND you’re reading? And on top of it, she got all buddied up with a girl sitting on her other side at the bar, and I couldn’t hear the conversation, so I couldn’t be in on it, obviously. She’s cutting up and having a great time with her, and occasionally checking in with me. And THEN, some other girl comes up to talk to her after seeing her book and they chit chatted and exchanged numbers.
And lord help me, I am a horrible person. Because I’ve been hoping to make new friends considering her friendship usually just makes me feel bad, but every girl I’ve met lately is in their early twenties like her, and I’ve had enough issues with her emotional immaturity. I’d like to make friends my own age. So how come it just falls in her lap and not mine? It made me so irrationally angry. I think some of that is period hormones, but they don’t usually do me quite like that.
It’s like, fundamentally, we have a lot of interests and feelings and experiences in common. But she’s mean-spirited, and selfish, and bossy, and demanding. She thinks the world should revolve around her and she should be catered to. She’s so contrarian and hypocritical and condescending, and she still has that teenage fixation on how she’s so ~different~ from everyone else. She’s weirdly rigid—I offered to help her clean her previous apartment when she was moving out, and she wanted to instruct me on how to clean it—my space is literally always cleaner than hers. My standard of HYGIENE is higher than hers. She doesn’t even brush her teeth or shower daily, apparently???
We made plans to go out to eat recently and then watch a movie at her place, and I asked where she wanted to eat, and she spieled off something about her side of town vs. my side of town, but since she was going to Michael’s after work, we could go wherever, maybe I should pick a place between both of us (for context, we live less than ten minutes apart. I work right next to Michael’s, close to where she lives, and she works closer to where I live, but again: probably like a 6-8 minute drive). I would’ve literally driven us the next town over. I don’t care. She always says how she wants to do more things, fun things, but in reality she doesn’t want to stray from her like, 3 mile radius and her little routines.
She wants to invite me to her house after work often and not offer food. If I invite her over, I make sure there are things to eat, whether that’s snacks or a meal. She once invited me after work and was like “you don’t have to stay long, I know you’ll be hungry” and I showed up and she was eating her dinner. She grew up in poverty and has food insecurity, and I get that, but like—you can’t be for real. Inviting someone to your house because you want their company, knowing they haven’t eaten in hours, and eating in FRONT of them? To her credit, she did offer a piece of brownie, but then—in her own words—gave me the little piece of the two she cut.
And she lies—about the WEIRDEST stuff. Maybe not even lies so much as makes excuses, but like, once recently she came to my house for dinner and left like RIGHT after, because it was 6:30 and “getting dark soon.” She hates driving at night (she hates driving at all but). For the record, it’s summer and doesn’t get dark until like 9. Even my grandma thought it was rude and called her out and then she goes “well, my cat doesn’t like being alone during thunderstorms”—it wasn’t even raining. It’s cool if you just wanna be home, but please. If you’re gonna make excuses, be better at it.
She made a massive deal about how I slept in the car on our way home from the Taylor Swift concert. HER fault. She’d planned for us to stay with a friend of hers (a term I use loosely because she doesn’t like this girl at all—thinks she’s super catty and bitchy), and at last minute decides she simply cannot stay there, and we leave at fucking four in the morning. I’m so exhausted I physically cannot keep my eyes open even though I fight like hell to. She wakes me up close to my house and is like “when we get to your house, you gotta get your stuff and go”—as if I don’t want to get out and go to bed?
Later, I confronted her about it (among other things) and she says how I just don’t understand how bad her driving anxiety is (me, who literally wasn’t driving until a few months ago and her, who when I tried to use it as a point of common ground early in our friendship, insisted she didn’t have issues with it) and it’s so bad she can’t sleep in the car when someone else is driving, how she ALWAYS stays awake on trips to help keep the driver awake, and how I literally fell over on her arm (ACROSS THE CONSOLE?) and she couldn’t move me because she had her hands on the wheel.
I’ve slept in the car a LOT in my life, and never once have I leaned across the whole ass console. I either sit up straight with my neck lolling everywhere (most common) or end up with my head against the door. There’s just zero way that happened and I didn’t feel it, no matter how tired I was.
Anyway, a few weeks later, her and her mom take a trip out of state, and they’re talking on the phone after she gets back. Her mom is giving her shit for sleeping for the whole car ride and she’s like “I wasn’t driving! What did you expect?” Oh… so you do sleep in the car, then. And by the way, her mom is the scariest driver I’ve ever ridden with. So cars are sooo scary that you can’t sleep in them, except with your mom, who is the worst driver I’ve ever met. The math isn’t mathing here.
AND THEN—she’d made sure to let me know how much it stressed her out for me to confront her about how I’d been feeling (because we texted over the period of a work day about it) and how I should’ve “spoken up sooner”, and then recently, in light of our other friend getting a boyfriend and dropping off the face of the planet, I wanted to make sure she wasn’t feeling neglected now that I’m seeing someone, and she said she didn’t, but she also didn’t feel prioritized. Which is not what I asked. We’re friends, and we both work full time. We have standing once a week plans. And when I asked her what she meant, she said something about how anytime she brings something up with me that’s about me and not her, I make it about her and not me, and how she didn’t want to elaborate on that. That we were fine as far as she was concerned, and we’d eventually talk about it. So she couldn’t handle one DAY of me trying to phrase things tactfully, but has this hanging over my head like a guillotine for weeks. And it’s even funnier because she said “when she brings something up” except she never has. The conversation I brought to her is the ONLY one we’ve ever had in that vein. So for her to imply that I like, shift blame and don’t take accountability was so immensely shitty and not even true.
If I were a pettier person, I would call her out on her bullshit as these things happen. This is a short list of a litany. Or I would say mean things back—like how not only did I have sex first, but I also fell in love first. But I don’t.
I’ve considered not being her friend multiple times. Since we’ve become friends, she’s continually made me feel left out, confused, and like a petty little baby because it triggers feelings I haven’t felt since I was a literal child. She reminds me of my dad. He’s the only other person I’ve ever struggled THIS hard to just get along with. And sometimes, she’s great, and I wonder how there’s even an issue.
But I think it boils down to that—if I cut two pieces of something, I will always, without thought, give the larger serving to the other person. She very intentionally gave me the smaller one, knowing I was hungry, and I think that speaks to who we are as people. And I understand that experiences shape who we are, and I see from her family dynamic where a lot of her behavior comes from, but the reality is, I am a giver, and she is a taker, and the balance there just doesn’t work. It’s tedious and exhausting, and what good is being friends with someone when it stresses you out more than it ever feels good?
It doesn’t make me feel supported or cared for or loved. It makes me feel alienated and unchosen and used. One day, I will learn how to navigate things like this better.
I don’t know why I struggle so much with the idea that I can have good friends. This time last year, I had only JUST met the ones I have now. And I had no romantic prospects at all. Things can happen quickly when they do. I just need to allow myself to believe in them.
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fussymeanie999 · 4 years ago
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first time - loki laufeyson x plus-size reader
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WARNING: this is going to be around 90% dirty smut. you have been warned. mentions of: cunnilingus, deepthroat, facefucking, unprotected sex, breeding, first time
synopsis: reader feels extremely insecure about her figure, loki finds her being absolutely destroyed, he decides to show her how beautiful she is.
a/n: also, i like used a scene from my mad fat diary for one of the dialogues (another one of my favourite shows), so all creds to them! i also used a monologue called "corsets and courtship" for some of loki's quotes by @tomhiddlestonsoundalike on tumblr so all credz to him and whoever wrote the text!
enjoy, my plussize queens (or whoever's reading this lol)
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you stood in front of your mirror, in your undergarments, looking at your own reflexion, your fingers grazing your own skin, cringing at every bump or texture you felt. your skin wasn't as soft as you'd want it to be. it wore many marks, wether from your skin stretching or plain old cellulite. you had some pimples, some scarring... you hated it. all of it. you just wished you were perfect. you weren't skinny, that was for sure. you weren't even mid-size. you were a big girl. and as much as you'd want to pretend you weren't, there were times where that was impossible. you didn't fit in any "regular sizes" and not every store had a plus-size section. you were afraid to eat in front of people. you couldn't even be intimate with your boyfriend.
ah. your boyfriend. your boyfriend's name was loki. and he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon. well, not a man. technically he was an alien. or a god? he came from asgard. a different planet and it honestly baffled you that a literal god would go for someone like you, when he could get anyone he ever wanted. you couldn't believe what you were hearing when he revealed his feelings for you. of course you were hopelessly in love with him but you just couldn't believe he felt the same way. fat girls never get the hot guys. at least not in any story you ever heard, especially not in your life. you never had a boyfriend. no one had really shown any interest in you and you didn't either. mostly because you didn't think anyone would feel the same.  you didn't feel as though you deserved to be with anyone, you were too big, too unattractive, too insecure. so you never really tried. until loki came around.
he became part of your life almost a year ago to this day. he was your first kiss, first date, first everything. the only first that was missing was... your first time. yes. you were a virgin. a fat virgin at that. you didn't even let loki see you without a shirt on. the mere thought made you burst into tears, imagining different improbable scenarios where he'd be so disgusted by your figure he'd leave you. but you wanted to. you wanted him to see you and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him in every sense of the term, but you couldn't bring yourself to reveal your body to him when the time came. he was always understanding, listening to your wishes and never made you feel like you had to do anything you didn't want to do. but you could feel how much it made him ache to not be able to be with you the ways he wanted to. it made you ache as well.
you grabbed at your fat, your jiggly rolls, covered in purple stripes and you couldn't help the tears that threatened to fall, roll down your cheek. your small cries suddenly became sobs, and they became louder and louder, as your brain was flooded with images of loki's face, disgusted in your figure. you let yourself fall onto the bed, feeling your stomach touch your thighs, making your sobs grow even louder. you held your stomach in one of your hands and and the other directed itself on your face, massaging your temple, feeling your heart beat inside your head.
you thought you were alone. you really did.
you heard the door of your bedroom creak. your head immediately jolted up as your glistening eyes met with familiar blue-ish green orbs. you grabbed the nearest blanket and covered your almost naked body, your sobs completely stopping but your tears still melted away on your round cheeks.
your raven-haired lover walked in the room, carefully.
"oh my sweet girl, what has happened?" the god said softly, carefully kneeling in front of you.
he slowly held out his hand to meet yours with confusion, worry and a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you quickly dodged it and got up, covering your entire front side with the blanket and quickly turning around so he couldn't see the back of you.
"nothing" you struggled to say, in between cries, still backing away from him.
you continued walking backwards until your lower back hit the dresser. you looked down, for a few quick seconds and when you looked back up, your lover was only a mere 2 inches away from your face. he cupped your visage with his hands and softly wiped your dried tears with the back of his thumb.
" you know how much i trust you my darling..." he started. " ... but this doesn't look like nothing."
he started slowly stroking your hair and brushing it with his fingers. you tried avoiding his stare but it was useless, as he was grabbing your face and lifted your chin up to make you look at him straight in the eyes.
as his stare felt as though it was piercing through your soul, you couldn't contain your cries anymore.
" be honest with me... i beg of you... it pains me to see you like this" he pleaded.
you started to contain your sobs a bit better, but you still felt so much pain.
" why... why are you with me loki...?" you were able to blurt out.
confusion. confusion was all that was written over his face. he also looked a bit hurt.
his stare started going around the room, trying to find an answer to your question. his hands, that previously were cupping your face, slid down to your throat and rested on your collarbone, his thumb drawing circles over your thyroid.
"what kind of question is that?" he said, annoyance in his voice. you were afraid you made him angry.
"loki... you can have anyone you want, alright? you're a god..." you said, tears still brimming the sides of your eyes.
loki looked at you with so much hurt, it was hard to keep eye contact.
" you're an 11, and i'm a two at best..." you proceeded. "most people, when they see us, out in public, or on social media, they must be thinking; "oh he must be absolutely mad going out with that..." you stopped yourself when you saw loki's facial expression go from hurt to raging.
"that what?" he asked firmly.
you didn't answer.
"THAT WHAT?" he screamed, making you jump.
he put a hand over his mouth, trying to calm himself down.
"how many times do i have to tell you, y/n?" he started. "you are my person. my woman. my everything. you are the most magnificent being my eyes ever laid upon. the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms. can't you see? can't you? because i can. i see it everyday. i don't have to see you bare to know. never say that to me again, you understand? do you? do you understand?" he said, starting softly and becoming more firm.
his hands were still hanging by your collarbone, but you felt them grip at your skin, desperate for your understanding, for your touch, for you.
"... i" you started. "i d-do..." you stuttered through sniffles.
he looked at you directly in the eyes. you knew he loved you.
'but not enough.' you thought to yourself.
your love carefully placed his lips upon yours. his lips that you were familiar with. lips you kissed thousands of times. lips you loved. lips you longed for. you needed. the kiss he planted was one of the most delicate kisses he'd ever given you, but at the same time, one of the most passionate. it felt like all of the love he felt for you he poured out into you and in that moment, you felt like nothing could come between you two.
"p-please don't leave me, loki..." you cried out after the kiss.
"my love, my love, my love... never. i love you." he reassured you, stroking your hair.
he planted kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, and then back to your lips, this time with more hunger. it was like all of the times he had to restrain himself, when you felt like you weren't ready, completely melted into that kiss. all of his passion, his love, his hunger, his despair, and more importantly his lust, he finally let it all out and you let it all in.
"loki..." you panted in between kisses.
"mmh... yes my love?" he said, intensifying and deepening his kisses more and more.
you hesitated. but you knew. you knew you were ready.
"i-...mmh... i want you." you said, desperation tinting your voice, sounding almost like a plea.
loki slowed down. he took a minute to look at you in the eyes. he wasn't sure what to say. he wasn't even sure what you were saying.
"what?" was all he could muster up to say.
you looked at him with a little more confidence and nodded slowly.
the look on his face was priceless. he would finally be able to be with you.
"a-are you sure about this, love?" he said, sounding like he had just won the lottery.
you nodded again.
he grabbed the sides of your head firmly and leaned in to kiss you once more. his hands trailed down the sides of your body and started playing with the blanket that you were still holding firmly in your hands. you were scared to let go. to be completely bare to him.
"i'm afraid you're gonna have to let this go, my darling." he whispered in you ear, taking the chance to leave a wet kiss on your lobe, slightly biting down on it.
he grabbed your shaking hands in his, drawing circles with his thumb softly against yours.
"give yourself to me, little one... let me see you, touch you, feel you, taste you. i beg... i beg of you." he whispered again, pressing his forehead against yours.
you breathed heavily. you wanted him to see you. to touch you, feel you...
the wall you had built had always seemed so hard to knock down... but in this moment though, that wall seemed to be made of silk. all you had to do was let it go.
"okay..." you said, in the softest voice you ever spoke.
you backed away from loki and walked backwards a few feet. you were now standing the back of your knees faced towards the end of the bed. loki was staring at you proufoundly, awaiting your reveal impatiently.
your hands were trembling. you had nightmares about this moment. you had panic attacks for this moment. this moment was everything. but something about loki... was it the way he stood? the way he spoke? was it his stare? something about him made you feel safe. safer than you had ever felt before tonight.
so you let go.
you felt the blanket reach your toes. you cringed. so you closed your eyes, not wanting to witness loki's disappointment. you awaited any second now a hurl, a disgusted sound or a hurtful comment. but none of that.
you carefully opened your eyes, only to find loki with a gaping mouth, having the most amazing look on his face. a look of pure love, of endless attraction and mesmerising lust.
he approached you slowly, making each of his step count. when he finally reached you, he immediately pressed his forehead against yours. though your eyes were staring down at your feet, you could feel his stare devouring you.
he carefully placed his hand upon yours and let it trail up your arm. then back down again, giving you chills.
he didn't say anything. not a word. what was he thinking?
"i... i look disgusting i know, i'm so sorry. i know i disappoint..." you said, starting to regret the blanket had reached the floor.
you heard loki sigh so heavily.
"you... have got to be joking, love..." were the first words he spoke after seeing your figure. you heard the smile through his voice.
"in all of my..." he started. you heard him swallow before continuing. "in all of my 1056 years of living... never... and i mean never... have i ever witnessed such beauty before this night. my sweet, sweet girl, i simply do not understand why you felt the need to hide."
his hand reached your face and kissed you so passionately, you felt a sort of... heat at the bottom of your stomach. it was an unfamiliar feeling.
that same hand made its way to your neck, then to your shoulder and started playing with one of your bra straps. eventually, he completely took it off and did the same with the other strap.
"you have no idea what you are doing to me right now..." the god said, in a lower, hungrier voice.
"what am i doing to you?" you asked, innocently.
in between kisses, you could feel loki smirk against your lips.
his hand went from your shoulder, trailed down your arm and grabbed your hand in his. he took it and before you knew it he pressed it upon himself. his black, silky, suit pants were showing a bulge in between his legs and that's exactly where he put your hand.
he was hard.
when you first touched it, you heard a whimper come from your lover. god, he needed you.
"this... this is what you are doing to me, darling."
you couldn't believe the words he was saying to you. you felt as though you were in a sort of dream. loki wanted you. he was... quite literally hard for you.
loki grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so you were looking at him. his eyes went extremely dark.
"lay down. on the bed. now." he demanded firmly.
you obeyed his commands in the blink of an eye. you were ready.
you laid down on the bed, on your backside, carefully. when you got comfortable you looked up at loki and saw him looking at you, with hungrier eyes. eyes that were darker and more lustful than ever. he was devouring you with his eyes and he made sure to capture every square inch of skin of your body.
with only a smirk and the flick of a hand on your partner's part, your bra disappeared in a light green magic, leaving your breasts uncovered and nipples starting to harden.
loki obviously couldn't contain himself any longer and almost jumped on top of you, kissing you savagely, making his way down your neck, leaving all sorts of love marks, some darker than others. some of them were painful but the pain only reminded you that this was real. when he got to your breasts, you could almost see his mouth water.
he carefully grabbed one with his hand, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.
"so soft, so plump... for me. oh god, sweetheart you're giving me such a delight"
and with no warning he started giving you small licks, around your nipple, carefully approaching your most sensitive part, which he enthusiastically started to flick with his tongue. the sudden pleasure rose your voice as you let out a small whimper, begging for more.
"yes... yes my sweet girl... let it out... show me how much you want this" he said in a raspier voice.
you found your fingers playing with his raven-black locks, as his mouth played with your brown-ish pink buttons.
he did so for some while, until he felt your hand grasp at his vest. you wanted him to reveal himself to you as well. he got the message pretty quickly.
he looked up from his meal, giving you the same amount of eye contact, as he took off his black blazer, black tie and black vest. all he had on were his bottoms but you were too worried about his beautiful torso to notice. you let your hands wonder on his pale chest, feeling the softness of his skin, some of his hair, up to his pecs, you couldn't believe it. how can this man become even more beautiful?
"like the view, my love?" he asked. you enthusiastically nodded.
he bent down to leave more love bites over your torso and your breasts. he started to slowly go down your body leaving kisses under your breast, going even nearer to the most insecure part of your body. you cringed and whimpered again, but this time in a less of a pleasurable manner, remembering all of your stretch marks and cellulite, knowing he'll be disappointed.
"i... couldn't... be... more... in... love..." he breathed out between his wet kisses. he was now definitely directly on your tummy.
he looked up, knowing you wouldn't like this part. he met your eyes and definitely noticed your hesitation.
he got back up, towering over you. he bent back down, catching your lips in his.
he carefully started stroking your hair, in the most loving manner you could ever imagine. he looked at you straight in the eyes, seeming like he was trying to deliver a message directly to your soul.
"what have i done to deserve you?" he asked, his voice choking in between his words.
those words completely melted your aching heart.
it was your turn to touch him. you said nothing as you slowly stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, giving him your approval by a shake of the head.
he smiled and his head disappeared to your stomach again.
you could feel his hands rome around your entire body and his mouth leaving wet kisses over your stomach. his long raven hair still trailed around higher up on your torso, nearer to your breasts.
he finally got to the place his own body longed for the most.
at this point you were completely damp and you awaited his reaction to your wetness impatiently.
he quickly gave you one of the hungrier and most impatient look you'd ever seen him give you.
he got up in front of the bed, looking you up and down like a predator looks at its prey and with the flick of hand, yet again, loki made your panties disappear in a light shimmering green magic, leaving you completely bare. all that was covering you up were your legs, still pressed firmly together.
loki carefully placed his hands over your bare knees. he could feel you trembling. was it from excitement? nervousness? or desire?
"open up for me, my love... let me in" he said in a demanding, pleading voice.
you slowly started to comply and let your legs go loose. your lover took it upon himself and slowly spread your thighs apart. he couldn't believe his eyes.
he was letting himself finally see your aching core. he could see it glistening, it was calling to him, begging for his touch. he was the one the one responsible and he'd never felt prouder. he admired every fold, every forgotten hair you missed while shaving, everything about it was inviting.
"oh my sweet sweet girl... look at the state of you. don't you understand how long i've been waiting? to see you in this position, completely at my mercy, legs spread, only for me..."
he gulped and whimpered at the sight of you, as you spread you legs even further. he could feel the tightness in his pants become almost unbearable. he'd never been this aroused before in his entire life. but first, he needed a taste of you.
he slowly started leaving wet kisses over your thighs, getting closer and closer to your velvet folds. his hands traveled your entire body. your body, that felt as though it had been set on fire. he once again cupped one of your breasts and started flicking your nipples with his fingertips. you let yet another whimper escape your lips, needing him more than you've ever needed anyone.
you felt his hot breath against your wet love box and that was all it took to make you go insane.
"p-please..." you pleaded to the god.
he took your scent in, smelling the most mouth-watering aroma he ever got the chance to smell in all of his 1000 years.
"you don't have to ask me twice, my sweetness..." were his last words before delving in.
he placed his fingers upon your aching core, exploring all of your folds, he couldn't believe how wet you were.
"darling... you are dripping..."
he let his fingers trail for a few seconds, until they reached your entrance. he circled it with the tip of his finger as he finally placed his lips right on top of your sensitive button.
the sudden, unfamiliar sense of pleasure, completely took you by surprise as you yelped.
his tongue peaked through after a few kisses planted on your clitoris. it circled in the same motions his finger was making to your entrance. he was so soft, so cautious. but you could feel the heat in the bottom of your stomach growing darker, more demanding so you placed you hands on the top of your lover's head, brushing your fingers through his hair and slightly pushing his head down on your core.
loki got the message, as his circles became more passionate and as he started flicking his tongue aggressively at your core.
you felt your entire body tremble in desire as loki's finger plunged itself in between your folds, exploring your insides.
you were now moaning deliberately, wanting him to add digits. you thought you'd be more resistant, you thought it'd be a little painful, even but all you could feel was pleasure.
"more..." you pleaded.
as the words were still hanging from your lips, loki plunged yet another finger in, and this time, you did feel a little resistance but you didn't care. you wanted him. you wanted him so much.
his tongue was working wonders on your clit. you would think the man hadn't eaten in days at the sight of him. he was completely devouring you and you could feel the pleasure build up inside of you.
the mixture of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his tongue flicking at your sensitive button, all of it was too much for you to handle. you felt something was coming.
"loki... l-loki... something... something's happening." you panted, in between moans.
he didn't stop. he knew what he was doing. he went harder, his tongue completely destroying you.
"i can feel it as well... your heat... your wetness... let yourself come undone, my sweet... for me" he whispered, panting, in between licks.
'come undone?' you thought. but before you knew it, you felt it. the highest peak of pleasure your body had ever felt in its life. you felt your thighs squeeze around the god's head, squashing him a little. you didn't want to hurt him but you couldn't contain yourself, as you screamed his name, not believing that amount of pleasure was even possible. it was electrifying. your whole body reacted, you were sweating. you put your hand over your mouth and bit down your finger to stop yourself from becoming a screaming mess, but it was already too late, as you rode your orgasm out to the last bit of pleasure you could conquer up.
"you taste even sweeter than i thought you would, sweet girl" he said, giving the nickname a whole different meaning.
you let out a huge sigh, slowly coming back to your senses. you looked up as loki got up from between your legs, his hand still caressing your folds slowly and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. you tasted what you thought was yourself. oddly enough, you didn't cringe, you hadn't found yourself to taste disgusting. it was... kind of erotic actually.
"loki i..." you started. you didn't know how to ask. "i want to..." you sighed out.
"say it, darling" he said, stroking your hair, still caressing in between your legs.
"i want to taste you... too" you finally let out.
you wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel. you wanted to thank him in a way.
he was surprised. he didn't think you were ready.
"you made me feel so good today... i want to reciprocate the feeling... y'know..." you said, shyly.
loki's hand pulled at your hair to make you look at him.
"is that what you want?" he asked, firmly. he grabbed your hand and slowly pressed it yet again on his throbbing member, through his tightening pants.
he sighed heavily, still looking at you straight in the eyes.
you nodded, slowly. he smirked.
"then, get on your knees."
you obeyed.
you liked how he commanded you and guided you through all of your movements. you were nervous he wasn't going to enjoy, but the anticipated look on his face told you otherwise. also, the throbbing length in his pants.
you were now on your knees, on the floor, at the end of the bed and loki was sitting, his still clothed legs spread, inviting you in.
you started to slowly stroke his thigh, rubbing your hand up and down, each time getting closer to his private. you did the same thing with his other thigh, feeling the god getting impatient with your teasing.
you finally placed your hand over his member, giving it a small squeeze. you heard your lover grunt, at only your touch.
"you're eager" you stated, looking up at him. he gave you a smirk.
"less talking." he said, darkly.
you complied, massaging his bulge through his pants.
when you finally unzipped them, you heard your lover let out a sigh of relief. you wanted to bring them down to his ankles, but loki, being impatient, made them disappear in his green magic.
"hey. let me work." you said, in more of a joking way.
"i said... less talking" he repeated.
you noticed a small wet spot on his grey boxers. you bent down, without touching it, smelling it.
you felt the god squirm under you, eager to feel you around him.
you carefully, and slowly took his boxers down, letting his member spring free of its shackles, finally revealing itself to you.
he was huge. it was veiny, its tip was a dark pink, almost red, it was pale like the rest of his body. but most importantly, it was enormous.
"like the view, my love?" he asked for the second time that night.
you nodded your head enthusiastically. all you wanted was to get a taste.
you carefully approached your hand to the hot spot. the second your fingers reached his skin, loki whimpered. it was burning up, but it was so soft. you felt the veins under your fingertips, and suddenly it was like you knew exactly what to do. you carefully started stroking him and ran your thumb over the most sensitive part of his shaft, his frenulum, and heard him whimper once again.
"please" he pleaded, imitating your pleas from earlier.
"you don't have to tell me twice" you imitated as well.
you approched his tip to your lips and delicately gave him a soft kiss. his skin was so warm.
you continued giving him small pecks but you felt him get, yet again, impatient with your teasing.
"oh come on..." he pleaded.
you looked at him. sweat was dripping down his forehead.
you then flipped his cock over, back to his stomach to give yourself full access to the base of his member. you placed your tongue directly in between his balls and shaft and worked your way up to his tip, making sure you passed by his sensitive junction between his red bulb and the rest of his penis. directly after, you put his tip in your mouth and started bobbing your head back and forth, tasting the drops of pre-cum he deposited on your tongue.
you heard him moan, some cusses flew out of his mouth, he moaned mainly your name, or called you by all sorts of nicknames.
"oh my, oh my... you're doing so good... mmh... g-good girl..." he moaned out.
his words were able to bring back that heat at the bottom of your stomach. you slowly directed your hand in between your thighs and started stroking your own bundle of nerves. loki didn't seem to notice, too lost in the waves of pleasure you were giving him.
he was now moaning deliberately. he tried... he really tried, but he couldn't contain himself anymore, he grabbed your head, pulled you by your hair and pushed your head down to take more of his shaft. you awaited a gag or any sort of resistance on your part, really, but nothing came.
loki got up from where he was sitting, your head still enveloping his shaft and started moving back and forth, you being completely at his mercy. he was deliberately fucking your face, and you let him.
he moaned your name so many times you'd lost count. he became more and more agressive with each thrust until all of his shaft was buried down your throat. he held your head down for a few seconds, gripping at your hair, letting his cock sit in your mouth, until he finally pulled out, a strand of saliva escaping your lips. he was out of breath, but not as much as you.
"you feel so good, my love. you're doing amazing" he said, panting.
you gave him a few kitten licks, asking for more. he buried his cock again down your throat, pumping in and out. he was fucking your face as though it was a cunt, using your throat as a mere hole that was made to mold his shaft perfectly.
you weren't gagging which surprised you. you'd never tested your gag reflex, but obviously you didn't have any.
you felt him go faster and faster until he once again, suddenly stopped as your head was completely enveloping his shaft. but this time, he started grunting and moaning, louder, in more of an animalistic way, holding your head down, hard, as deep as he could go.
"i- i'm cumming, love" he grunted out.
suddenly, you could taste bitterness, saltiness explode in your mouth, and run down your throat. your first instinct was to spit it out, but your god kept your head in place, making you swallow. it felt never ending. he kept cumming and cumming. you thought the taste would repulse you, from what you had heard from friends and the internet, but you honestly didn't find it to be that disgusting.
he stayed in that same position, holding your head in place, for another ten to fifteen seconds after he came. you felt his cock twitch in your mouth and he finally removed himself.
you took a deep breath, considering you could finally breathe properly.
loki knelt down to your level. he looked at your face. fortunately, you weren't wearing makeup, so no makeup to ruin. your eyes were red, tears had run down your face, you had spit all over the sides of your face, and some of loki's cum had fallen out of the corners of your mouth. he wiped it with his thumb and took it up to your mouth.
you sucked his thumb dry, tasting him yet again.
he gave you a loving smile.
"mine." he simply said, in a soft manner.
he then kissed you in the most loving way he could, tasting himself on your lips.
he then backed away, looking you up and down, noticing your hand still wondering around in between your thighs. he smirked and locked eyes with you.
"i think we're gonna have to take care of that." he said, as he got up. he was now standing up while you were still on your knees. you noticed his cock was hard again, once it got to your eye level. how was that even possible? how could he be hard again this quick? you had to remind yourself he did have the stamina of a god. he handed you his hand for you to take, which you did.
he got you up and carefully placed his hands on the sides of your head and started stroking your hair.
"are you still sure you want to do this my love?" he asked.
you chuckled.
"after what we've done? i'm pretty sure there's no backing up now?"
he gave you a confused look.
"of course there is. i'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable doing, sweetheart." he said.
you sighed at your poor choice of words.
"and i know that." you started. "but i'm ready. i want you... loki."
he smiled yet again. he didn't say a word. he just kissed you. it was a passionate kiss, like all of your others that night. his hands roamed around your body as if it was discovering it again for the first time.
taking you by surprise, he lifted you up, flipped you around and threw you on the bed. never had you been picked up before. you always thought you'd break the person's spine. but loki lifted you up so easily, you felt like a feather.
"you're mine" the god grunted, as he plunged on top of you. he spread your legs open, as far as he could and positioned himself right between them.
he reached down to your bundle of nerves and drew circles with his fingers like he did earlier. he wound up plunging his fingers inside you yet again, prepping you for what was about to replace them. you could feel his length harden even more against your thigh, as he did so.
you started whimpering, wanting more than just his digits to fill you.
your whimpers were like music to loki's ears. he loved hearing how much you longed for him. he loved seeing you squirm under him. he enjoyed feeling all powerful, having that much control over you.
"take me" you sighed out, looking at your lover straight in the eyes. you couldn't hold it in anymore. you needed him. you needed him inside you. now.
he smirked as he bent down, to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.
"tell me when you want to stop, my darling. use your words." he asked of you.
you nodded, agreeing to his words, whilst trying to spread your legs even further.
his fingers left your core, leaving you needy and wanting to feel him once more, but they were quickly replaced by what you knew was his tip. he started slowly moving back in forth in between your folds, teasing at your entrance.
he gave you a look, pleading for approval.
you slowly nodded, ready to take him in.
you felt his his bulb starting to peak inside of you. you winced, feeling a slight resistance.
he stopped. but you nodded again, asking for him to continue.
as he buried his shaft deeper in you, it started to really hurt. for real this time.
"ow, ow. stop." you asked. "but stay inside. just stay... stay like this. let me- let me adjust."
he listened to you.
"are you okay, my love?" he asked, still halfway inside of you.
you nodded again, breathing heavily. you knew you could do it. you wanted to.
"p-... proceed." you said.
he listened to you again, burying himself entirely in you. he let out a loud grunt. your walls had adjusted to the size of his member and it felt less painful.
your lover moaned again.
"you.. are so tight, oh my. you feel so good." he panted.
you smiled. you loved seeing him in this much pleasure. you loved the passionate, lustful look on his face, all of it was for you.
he started moving back and forth, slowly, being really careful of each and every one of your movements, analyzing if you wanted to continue or not.
the first few thrusts were painful but eventually the pain left and absolute ecstasy took its place.
loki noticed the change in you and decided to give his thrusts more power, barely able to contain himself. he pumped in and out of your aching core at a medium rate. he wanted to go faster, harder but he stayed careful.
but you... you wanted more. you started clawing at loki's back, bringing him closer to you and leaving red scratches all over his back. you kissed his neck, his torso, leaving him the same bruises he left you earlier, though yours weren't as agressive as his. yours were small, red, but his eventually became huge purple bruises. and you had them all over your body. he started leaving you some more, on your neck, your collarbone, imitating your movements.
"more..." you pleaded.
he smirked against your skin, left you yet another passionate kiss on your lips and with that, his thrusts became harder, more agressive, much faster. you felt as if he was trying to crawl inside of you.
you both started moaning and screaming each other's names at the top of your lungs. your lover got up, detaching his torso from yours, trying to find an angle where he could go deeper inside of you. you wanted him back, missing the heat of his body. you reached out to him with your arm, but he firmly grabbed it, stopping you in your tracks. you were surprised. he looked down at you, staring at you straight in the eyes. his eyes went dark. his hand that had stopped your movement, trailed up from your hand, to you elbow and up your arm, until it reached the crook between your shoulder and your neck. his thumb drew circles over your cheek, then your chin and finally on your throat. you didn't even have the time to realise but his hand had completely wrapped itself around your throat, choking you slightly. you could still breathe completely fine, but his hand held your head in space, as his thrusts became even harder, if that was even possible.
he started panting, completely losing himself in the moment.
he bent down again, still holding your throat in his hand. he grabbed you and forced your face to be centimetres from his.
"mine." he said in a deep, grunting voice.
that word was the one that completely sent you over the edge. you could feel your walls clench around his member, your were close. you needed your release.
"loki... i'm close." you tried sighing out.
he understood you perfectly. the hand he wasn't using to choke you found its way down between your legs and started playing agressively at your clit.
"let go, baby... let go" he panted.
you couldn't hold it in anymore. you let your orgasm take control of your entire body. your legs were shaking, your hips started grinding against loki's, your hands scratched at his back even deeper, your eyes were rolling back inside your head, and your mouth gaped wide open, letting all sorts of cusses fly out of your mouth.
as you rode out your orgasm, you knew loki was close as well. seeing you in this intense state, all because of him, sent him over the edge and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.
you started grinding your hips even more agressively, trying to meet his.
"come on, baby..." you whispered in his ear, leaving all sorts of wet kisses and hickey's all over his body.
you ran your finger through his curls, pulling at his hair.
and that's when you knew. you felt his hand grasped at your throat even tighter, making you gasp for air. he stopped moving, buried deep inside of you.
"oh my fu..." he started, moaning loudly.
you had made some research about how it would be like to have someone cum inside of you. you found out most people couldn't feel it. but you did. you felt all of it. you felt a warmth completely invade your insides, it kept coming and coming, just like earlier but this time inside of you.
loki's hand was still wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly, but as his orgasm ended, he eventually loosened his grasp.
when he finally stopped coming, as he was still buried inside you, he finally looked up at you and left a wet kiss your lips.
"i love you" he said, out of breath.
"i love you too."
loki looked down and smirked, taking his hand off your throat.
"no... don't say it like that... don't say "too"... it sounds like you're just agreeing with me. say it for real..."
you scoffed a little, thinking his request to be a little ridiculous. but you understood. you ran your fingers through his raven locks, held his head between both your hands, making him look at you.
"i love you, loki... i love you." you said softly, staring into his ocean blue eyes.
he gave you a wide smile and kissed you once more. he gave you a kiss full of love and passion.
after your kiss, he slowly pulled out of you. you felt so full, a second ago, the absence of his shaft between your legs contrasted so much with the empiness you now felt.
loki bent down again between your thighs to watch his seed run out of you. it felt yet again, never ending, but loki watched attentively.
"what a beautiful sight... may i snap a picture?" he said, jokingly.
"shut up..." you said in the same tone.
he gave you one last lick to your core and licked his lips, not minding his cum, plastered over your folds.
"i'll get a towel..." he said, leaving one last peck on your lips.
"thank you, honey..." you thanked him softly.
as you layed, completely naked on your bed, you thought.
you no longer felt restrained in your own skin, not around him at least. he made you feel seen, loved, desirable. you hated your body a little bit less, now. you might even try eating in front of people! maybe... you and loki didn't just have sex that night. you made love. he didn't just take your virginity, he made you into a better, improved version of yourself.
you were never more in love with him than in that moment.
loki came back with a light pink towel. he rose your hips up in the air and deposited it under you. he used the other end of the towel to wipe his seed off you.
once you were clean, loki got back off the bed and put the towel back in the bathroom.
he joined you in bed and wrapped his arms around you.
you felt so good. better than you had in years. with him. you felt so loved.
you didn't want to move, but you remembered you had to pee after a sexual intercourse... you read it in a blog.
you nudged loki, trying to get off the bed, but loki held you back, making it impossible for you to move.
"don't... even think about it." he said firmly under his breath.
you chuckled.
"i'm gonna get a urinary tract infection... and it's gonna be on you." you said in an accusing manner.
"darling, i'm a god... i have super powers, you're not gonna get a... whatever sort of infection you're talking about."
you scoffed, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck, sighing heavily.
loki left a loving kiss on the top of your head and held you tighter.
"you're mine... all mine."
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word count: 7395.... comment if you liked it loveys!! what was your favourite part?
2K notes · View notes
lacheri · 3 years ago
Text
|| moon river. || part viii. ||
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|| masterpost || taglist form || part vii. || part ix. ||
pairing: Levi x fem bodied reader
chapter content: modern au, coworkers au, neighbors au, suggestive themes, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, mentions of virginity, Halloween mention ooouuu, alcohol/drinking, minors/ageless blogs do not interact.
summary: in which you try to figure out your feelings, old and new.
wc: 8.4k
a/n: this was not in the outline BUT HEY LOL thank you to @esroh06 and Mochi for betaing as always <3 hope u guys enjoy!
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It’s probably the last warm-ish day of the season, you realize. You can feel the sun’s weakened rays against your bare legs, the wind carrying away the comfort of the pleasant brightness. It leaves goosebumps scattered across your exposed flesh, but you pay it no mind, snuggling further into your sweatshirt. It doesn’t make the best barrier (or the most sense; a sweatshirt and shorts combination makes for little logic), your sleeves pushed up to your elbows to avoid getting paint on the clothing, but it’s a barrier nonetheless.
You feel like a proper adult today. After collecting your weekly groceries and buying yourself a stack of medium sized canvases, you feel proud. Proud enough to prop up one of those blank canvases on your brand new adjustable easel and paint on your balcony. The street below proves to be an excellent reference, orange and yellow leaves line the pavement from origins you can’t fathom, as there are no trees in the vicinity. You find it sort of funny how the leaves seem to end up anywhere, and that’s what ultimately gets you to paint.
The city seems more alive than usual, the cafe packed and dozens of people walking along the sidewalk. You don’t know this for a fact, but they seem happy. You can spot glistening teeth and hear jovial laughter, couples conjoining their hands, swinging their arms as they walk. You smile to yourself. Seems like everyone’s in a good mood today, even you.
You call it quits on your painting when you hear your cell phone ring from inside your bedroom. You place your paint brush in a mug filled with murky water, and wipe your hands across your shorts. You leave your balcony doors open as you walk inside, the breeze following behind your form. You pick up your device, and answer your incoming call.
“Hello?” you ask.
“You went on a date with Levi and didn’t tell me?” Petra screams over the line.
You chuckle, “It wasn’t a date! How’d you even find out?”
“Hange cornered him when we came in and asked why you guys left and what had happened! He got all blushie and started stuttering! Did you kiss?”
You bite down on your lip, playing with the ends of your hair, “Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”
“Answer the question!”
“No, we didn’t,” you sigh, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Well, not technically.”
“What’s technically?” she shouts.
“He kissed my cheek?” you tilt your head, staring at your ankles.
Petra yells your name, “He kissed your cheek!”
“Yeah! What does that even mean?” you groan, falling back onto your mattress. “Oh my god, did we go on a date?”
“Yes! You beautiful moron!”
“No, I think he was just trying to be nice and apologize for being a jerk.”
“He was being a jerk because he likes you! Fuck! I’m going to lose to Hange!”
You roll your eyes, “Can you guys just admit you’re betting on whether or not Levi and I get together already? Both of you had made comments about it to me.”
“It’s not an if, it’s a when and a who,” she clarifies. You can picture Petra now, pointing her finger at nothing while she speaks.
“We’re just friends, Petra, I think!”
“I’m coming over when I’m done with work. We’re sorting this out, I need every last detail. Fuck knows Levi’s not gonna tell me.”
“There’s not much to talk about,” you frown. “If anything, I’m more confused about him than ever.”
“Which is exactly why you need a friend to come over and help you figure this out,” her voice is stern, though you can hear a smile as she speaks. “He’s been fucking pleasant all day. Pleasant! Happy! What the fuck did you do to him?”
You laugh, “I didn’t do anything! Fine, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”
“As you should. I’ll bring food as payment for these juicy details.”
“I can cook something if you’d like!” you glance over to your kitchen, a prideful feeling budding in your chest knowing your refrigerator is full and your cabinets are stocked. “Whatever you want!”
“Nope, this requires take away and Pinot Grigio. Hange won’t care if a bottle goes missing.”
“You better not steal a bottle from the bar. Besides,” you close your eyes, knowing Petra is going to scream. “Levi left a bottle of wine here.”
“Oh my fucking god!” she screams, as expected. “I can’t believe you- oh hey Levi, oh nothing, yeah I’ll be back in a second! No one! You fucking bitch I swear to god, he was in your apartment?”
You snort, “Get back to work!”
“This isn’t over,” she hisses, and you hear a distant closing of a door. “I’ll be over ten minutes after six. Don’t you dare leave out a single bit of the night.”
Before you can answer, Petra hangs up, and you chuckle quietly to yourself.
It’s funny how naturally your friendship has blossomed with the strawberry blonde — well, with everyone. It feels as if you’ve known them for lifetimes. Petra, with her bubbly personality and strong vocabulary. Hange, with their inviting smile and comforting aura. And Levi, with his—
With his—
Well, what’s there not to like about Levi?
“I like his laugh,” you think out loud, taking a deep breath. “I like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I like his humor, the way he makes me laugh. I like how easy conversation is with him. I like the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel-“
You pause.
“Happy,” you groan. “Levi makes me fucking happy. God dammit.”
You hate the way your heart squeezes at the confession, hate that you sigh dreamily at the thought. Because that means you like Levi, in more than just the friend way. It took nearly a month to earn his friendship, how the fuck are you going to earn his adoration as well?
You sort of feel guilty, too. What if Levi truly is just trying to be friendly? But why would he take you out and then entertain the idea of you potentially kissing him? Does he like you too? Are you taking advantage of his friendship? Is Levi simply taking pity on you?
You throw yourself out of your bed, grumbling to yourself, “And this is exactly why I don’t date. This is so fucking annoying.”
Because attachment is one thing, commitment is another. And if there’s anything you know about commitment, it’s how exhilarating it feels to leave it behind.
You distract yourself by cleaning up the mess of supplies you’ve left outside, and tidying up your apartment.
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Petra is true to her word, showing up to your front door exactly ten minutes past six o’clock. Take out bags in hand, she glares her beautiful amber eyes at you as she barges into your apartment.
“Forks. Talk.”
Your mouth falls open, your teeth clicking as you snap it shut, “Oh, okay?”
She’s a fiery girl, spreading the bags’ contents across your coffee table, seating herself on your floor with a huff. She didn’t come here to play around, that you know for sure. You collect the utensils from your kitchen, and take a seat on the opposite side of the table. The only gentleness she portrays is how softly she takes the fork from your hand, speaking a soft “thank you” before digging into her food, eyes solidified in that glare.
“Guess it’s time for the talk portion?” you joke, and it does not land the way you want it to. Petra chews angrily in response. You gulp, “Okay, I’ll tell you everything.”
And you do. You don’t leave out a single detail, going into the way Levi gazed at you the entire night, all the way up to the almost kiss, if you could call it that. She eats slowly, hanging onto every single word that falls from your lips. She nods, her face scrunches, she chuckles, she hums. When a sigh leaves you, her mouth opens, but you end your story with one last thought.
“Petra, I think I like Levi.”
“Oh yeah, big time,” she mirrors your sigh, her back meeting the bottom of your couch. “If it helps, he definitely likes you too.”
“But, why hasn’t he made a move then?” you fiddle with your thumbs. “I mean, he never said last night was a date. And honestly, up until last night, I thought Levi didn’t even like me. I thought he just felt bad. I still think he just feels bad for me.”
“Listen,” Petra starts. “You have to cut that out. No one feels bad for you, especially not Levi. When has he ever cut you a break? Or anyone for that matter?”
You recall your first shift at the bar — how angry Levi had been with you, how he had tried his best to manage your nervous behavior and fumbling hands. You remember how he called you out on your mistakes, and how you promised him you’d do better next time. That was a break. Offering you the job in the first place was a break.
She continues, as if reading where your mind has gone, “Levi isn’t like that. He’s kind in his own special way, sure, but he’s not sympathetic. Empathetic is more like it. We all know how hard adjusting to a new life is, and it’s so fucking hard. If I were Levi and I had some foreign woman just move in next door with no job and saw her clearly struggling, I’d help out too. It’s called being a good person. People don’t just do things for others to make themselves feel better, they do it because they want to. Whether or not Levi felt bad doesn’t matter, because he didn’t help you out with the intentions of getting something out of you. He wanted to help, and that’s it.”
“When I was in highschool, I got invited to go to prom with this boy I really liked,” you smile sadly to yourself. “He was kind of popular, I kind of wasn’t, but I had my close group of friends. Anyways, turns out it had been a prank, and I got stood up. My best friend, Eren, ditched his own date because he felt bad for me. Long story short, we tried the whole friends with benefits thing, which didn't work out, but we still ended up being really good friends. Actually, the girl he ditched ended up being the closest friend I ever had. That’s probably the most experience I have in the love department. Everyone else I’ve been with have been hookups or one night stands. I’ve never properly dated someone.”
“Why didn’t you and Eren work out?” Petra asks, and it sounds weird having his name come out of her mouth.
“We grew up together, it was just weird,” you chuckle. “Eren’s a great guy, we just, weren’t compatible romantically, I guess.”
“You have a really bad habit of making your friends turn to lovers,” she points out teasingly. “You gonna romance me next?”
“Keep bringing me dinner and we’ll see,” you wag your eyebrows suggestively, the two of you falling into a fit of laughter. “I’m just super inexperienced, Petra. I don’t really do commitment.”
“It’s scary,” she empathizes. “But it’s worth it, to be in love and be loved. It’s terrifying, but the good kind of terrifying. Why do you think people write books about this kind of stuff?”
You snort, “True. I just don’t want to fuck anything up, you know? I really like Levi, I like all of you. What if we don’t work out? We’re not only coworkers, but he literally lives next door. I can’t avoid him. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“What if it’s not though? What if he’s like, a soulmate or something?” her eyebrows come together, a frown etched on her face. “You can’t predict the end of something that hasn’t even started yet.”
You nod, agreeing with her logic, “You’re right. It’s just-“
“Scary,” Petra finishes your sentence in understanding. She smiles softly, “It is. But it’s also one of the greatest feelings in the entire world. You’d be denying yourself of that if you don’t go for it with Levi.”
“This might be a stupid question,” you sigh. “But, does Levi date? Have you ever seen him with someone before?”
“Honestly, no,” she confesses, laughing under her breath. “I’ve never heard him talk about someone before. He’s never brought anyone around, a partner or any family. That’s why I know he likes you. He talks about you. He lights up when he says your name. Just like you do when you talk about him.”
“Why is this so complicated?” you lean back into the heels of your hands, tucking your ankles under your calves.
“Because you’re making it complicated. Okay, here’s the facts,” Petra stands up, waving her arms as she speaks. “You like Levi. Levi likes you. No if ands or buts, these are the facts. You’re scared of commitment, so you’re getting cold feet and trying to bolt before anything even happens. Levi has his own baggage, probably, and doesn’t even entertain the idea of a relationship. He took you on a date — and don’t give me that look, it was a date — and opened himself up. You saw that, and now you’re scared of furthering your connection because of the what if’s. So, we have to look at the options.
“Option one,” she holds out one finger. “You pursue a relationship with Levi. It either ends badly, or, it doesn’t end at all. Option two! You stay friends and pine over each other and nothing ever happens and you get to watch each other move on with other people and be completely miserable.”
“Completely?” you muse.
“Completely.”
“Okay,” you smile, shaking your head. “So, what’s the game plan? What should I do?”
Her amber eyes widen, a beam spreading on her lips, “Okay! So, tomorrow night is Halloween.”
“Yes?” you narrow your eyes.
“I know what Levi’s being, because he’s it every year,” her pupils twinkle with mischief. “So, I have just the costume to kick start mission ‘let’s get these two idiots to admit they like each other’!”
Petra tells you all about her costume idea, and you sit across from her with stars in your eyes. You don’t hesitate to thank her for everything — listening to your worries and giving you some of the best advice you’ve ever heard.
“It’s what friends do.”
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Nervous doesn’t begin to describe your current state.
You’ve been standing in the bar bathroom for ten minutes, glaring your reflection down. You’ve washed your hands, fiddled with your makeup and hair, twirled and inspected your form several times. You don’t hate your costume. No, you think you actually look really cute. That’s not why you’re nervous.
You’re nervous because Petra didn’t tell you what Levi would be, just that you were going to match. She didn’t tell you that Levi dressed up in devil horns every year.
You adjust the feathery white wings strapped to your back, and groan. If there’s an art form in being subtle, you wonder what chaos being painfully obvious constitutes.
Sundays are usually your quiet shifts in the bar, but Halloween calls for a different kind of night. The building is packed with customers — ghosts, witches, Pitbull impersonators, you name it. They fish out cash from their wallets in exchange for a night they will probably not remember, to swallow drinks they will not taste as the liquids go down. You, in your crystal clarity, will be cursed to remember every single detail of tonight — whether you want to or not.
With one last determined glance to your reflection, you take a deep inhale through your nose, and force your legs to walk out of the restroom.
The sounds of voices and music flow unrestrained by the barrier of the bathroom door, and every step closer to the main floor only amplifies the incoherent noise. You can’t hear your footsteps against the floor, nor a single thought in your mind. Call it perseverance, call it ignorant bliss, but the distracting sounds provide instant relief to your anxious state.
Passing through the last stretch of the corridor leading to the public restrooms, your eyes search immediately for the bar counter. Levi and Petra’s forms are shadowed by the crowd lining the oak, you see slivers of their faces through the silhouetted limbs and torsos of customers. Neither of them have seen you yet. You’re perfectly on time for your shift, early even.
Your white dress flows against your kneecaps as you continue your journey forward, Petra’s borrowed champagne colored pumps on your feet. They’re not ideal for work, of course, but the strawberry blonde had aggressively insisted you to wear them. She’d be disappointed if you hadn’t, plus you had to admit, they really did complete your look.
You’re nearly positive that you will be barefoot in the next hour, your angel wings discarded elsewhere.
It feels as if eons of time have passed when you finally circle around the edge of the bar, floating over to Petra and Levi with a timid question, “Hey, where do you guys need me at?”
Levi looks incredible, to say the least. As minimalistic as his costume may appear, it suits him well. He looks good in red. A scarlet headband stabilized on the crown of his head, the ends tucked behind his ears, two devil horns poke through his raven colored locks. A tight black long sleeve shirt clings to his torso, tucked ever so neatly into the belted waistband of his slacks. He’s beautiful, he’s always beautiful.
And of course, Petra looks stunning as well — a pointy black hat perched atop her strawberry blonde hair, a tight black dress matched with black tights and boots. You want to give her bra a standing ovation, the support of the underwire pushing them up and out. Seems as if everyone’s staring at Petra too. But you? Your eyes can’t seem to leave Levi.
His eyes can’t seem to leave you either, when he finally looks up from his cocktail.
Realization strikes his expression like a hard slap to his cheek. You’re an angel, and he’s a devil. It’s easy enough. To him, it probably seems like a coincidence. Unbeknownst to everyone apart from you and Petra, it’s not. Instead, it’s a carefully crafted plan, all credit due to the bubbly girl. You don’t know exactly what this means, to match with Levi accidentally by Petra’s intentions, but it means something. It has to, his silver orbs hold a glimmer not previously there as he observes you. Maybe you look pretty to him, maybe he finds this humorous. Regardless, it finds him, and you suppose that’s what the end goal of all of this is.
“Switch with me! I’ll go man the floor,” Petra perks, quickly passing out the last requested glass of her creation to a customer.
You nod, smiling at her as she passes. She wags her eyebrows at you, and disappears into the crowd of patrons. You gulp, and replace her.
“You look nice,” you say smoothly, getting to work on taking drink orders from across the counter. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Levi’s cheeks flush.
“Seems as if we match,” Levi ignores your compliment, focusing on what his hands are doing at the moment.
“Seems as if we do,” you flirt, smiling down at the cocktail shaker in your hand. “What do you think about it?”
“I think you must’ve known,” he mumbles. “Did you go snooping through the pictures in the back?”
Caught red handed, “Actually, no, Petra’s idea.”
Levi exhales through his nose, shaking his head in amusement, “Looks like we’re not actually wearing costumes this year.”
His words flutter your heart, and you dip your head down to conceal your grin, “Levi, are you flirting with me?”
“And if I am?” his elbow brushes against yours, his tone light and airy.
You send him a knowing glance, “Then I’ll tell you I don’t flirt with devils.”
“Using my own words against me, how cruel.”
“Not very angel-like of me I suppose,” your tongue feels witty and you surprise yourself with how easy these replies leave your lips.
“You have no idea-,” he gets cut off by a demanding customer dressed as Luke Skywalker, his attention stolen.
You end up getting swamped in orders, all three of you struggling to meet requests during the next hour. If this were your first week, you’d be drowning under the pressure. However, today marks your fourth week here at the bar, and your official one month and some change of living in the city. You feel like a pro behind the counter, gliding easily between familiar French words and broken English.
You realize now that every single struggle to get here was worth it. You understand Petra’s advice now. You even come to a new perspective, lost in your thoughts. It grounds you, and you ask yourself: when have you ever been afraid of the unknown? You crossed land and sea to be where you are now, a place previously unknown. You met friends who were previously unknown, and formed bonds that to you seem practically unbreakable.
If you hadn’t left home, you wouldn’t know the exhilarating freedom of independence. You wouldn’t have conquered your fears and the odds stacked against you. You wouldn’t be so honestly happy.
Watching Levi from the corner of your eyes, you suppose maybe taking the risk of getting your heart broken is a risk worth taking.
The rest of the night goes by without a single problem. Petra works the dwindling floor, you and Levi slow on your drink making and turn to cleaning instead. The strawberry blonde flips the lock on the door when the last customer leaves, and turns to the two of you.
“I can lock up if you guys want to head out,” she offers, looking you directly in the eye. “I don’t mind cleaning up!”
Levi’s face falls, concern lacing through his expression, “There’s a lot of cleaning to do.”
Petra simply waves her hand, “I got it. You both look exhausted, and I may have had a bit too much coffee today. You’re doing me a favor by leaving, really. I gotta burn off this energy somehow.”
The ravenette shrugs, “It better not be a mess when I open in the morning.”
“No promises!”
You hide a snicker behind your palm, and Levi diverts his attention to you, “You ready to go then?”
“Yeah,” you bite down on your lip, keeping your growing smile at bay.
Before the two of you pass through the front door, you spare a look at Petra. She hooks her big thumb up in a fist, a bubbly beam on her face. You roll your eyes and giggle under your breath, and close the door behind you.
“You really don’t own a jacket, do you?”
The cold midnight air nips at the surface of your exposed arms, and you sigh, “I keep forgetting to buy one.”
You watch as his eyes fall up and down your frame and — is Levi checking you out right now? You stand straighter, and hope your goosebumps flatten in the time it takes for you to talk home.
You feel fingertips ghost the small of your back, and that hope is gone. Those goosebumps will stay on your flesh forever.
“Keep forgetting, or you just want me to touch you on our walk home?” Levi leans in, whispering into the shell of your ear.
You swallow, “Isn’t that what friends are for?”
“Funny,” he chuckles under his breath. “You know, I never got to finish my thought earlier. About you being not so angel-like.”
“You didn’t?”
“No,” if Levi keeps breathing into your ear, you’re going to pull him into the closest alleyway and have your way with him. “I think it suits you.”
“Yeah?” you stutter.
“Yeah,” his fingers trail upwards, nails bumping along the seam of your dress zipper. “Bel ange.”
(Beautiful angel.)
“Levi,” you gasp. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home,” Levi’s lips tease your earlobe, so close to a kiss. He pulls away, his touch falling from your back, “C’mon, it’s cold.”
You want to scream the entire way back to your apartment. The pounding in your ears and your core have you gripping the edges of your dress, wanting to abandon any last shred of control you possess. You want Levi. You want to grab him by the back of his neck and pull those pretty lips to yours. You want to undress him, shove your greedy hands all over his skin and fuck him until the sun comes up. You want it so bad.
Fuck the consequences. Fuck the heartbreak. Fuck Levi for making you feel this way.
You’d be an idiot to think now that he doesn’t want you either. His hand bumps the back of yours, teasingly and temptingly. When your fingers extend to intertwine them together, he shifts, walking a centimeter away. Your hand goes limp, and he’s back, brushing against you all over again. It’s infuriating. You feel as if you’re going to lose control any second.
You’re standing in your hallway before you know it — Levi’s unlocking his door, ready to part ways. He’s been talking to you the entire time, but you’ve been so focused on how badly you want him you’ve tuned him out.
So what if Levi feels bad for you? You don’t feel bad for yourself, for anyone. You worked hard to be where you’re at now, and you won’t let anyone make you believe otherwise. So if you like Levi, it’s because you like him, no other reason. The same standard should be held to the ravenette too.
It’s impulsive, but you’re tired of holding back.
You launch yourself away from your front door and stomp over to him. You circle your fingers around his wrist, positioned on the lock, and you tug. Levi releases all tension in his muscles, his arm limp in your hold. Those beautiful silver eyes of his stare at you, and you stare back.
“I don’t want to be friends,” the words fly past your lips.
“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?” Levi rasps, his other arm navigating you by your waist. Your back presses against his door, and he steps between your parting thighs, “I quite like having you as a friend.”
“Do friends shamelessly flirt with each other? Do they take them out on dates?” you feel bold despite his physical advantage. You’re caged between Levi and his door. You feel like you’re on fire.
“We do,” his tongue slides over his bottom lip, and your fire ignites into an inferno. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure,” you can’t seem to catch your breath, the puffs leaving your lungs rapidly.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Levi confesses, laughing breathlessly. “I tried to get you out of my head, I thought not talking to you would work. It didn’t. And then tonight, you look fucking — beautiful. You always do. It’s frustrating, you’re a fucking temptress.”
“Levi,” you whine. “Kiss me, please.”
“I can’t take it back if I do,” his forehead presses to yours. “And this is a terrible idea.”
You nod meekly, “It is, and you can’t. We shouldn’t.”
“We shouldn’t,” he repeats, yet his head dips in further. His nose brushes against yours, his breath fans your lips, “Tell me to stop.”
“I can’t,” you whisper, terrified to move a muscle. “I want you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” his lips hover directly above yours now, the skin barely touching. “Last chance, tell me.”
You do, just not with words.
Your hands slide to Levi’s neck, and you pull. Air escapes the both of you as your lips finally collide. Your jaws flex as your mouths move, deeply and passionately. Levi tastes like mint. Suddenly, it’s your new favorite flavor.
Levi’s fucking good at kissing.
Your thighs close around his hips, his torso flushed against yours as he lifts you off the ground. Your ankles hook around his back, his palms sliding and gripping the undersides of your bare thighs. You’re pounding again, though you suppose it never stopped. It’s stronger now with the knowledge that the only thing separating Levi’s length and your center is a thin strip of panties and his bottoms. You cart your fingers through his undercut, and tug on the roots of the hair above.
A moan ricochets through your throat when, whether intentionally or not, his bulge catches the fabric concealing your clit, and he rolls his hips. All thoughts fly out of the preverbal window, and you’re a goner.
“I heard you that night,” Levi’s voice cracks, never ceasing to stop kissing you. “Your moans through the wall. You sounded so fucking pretty, and then, you said my name. Ça m'a rendu fou. Tu pensais à moi? A ce que je te ferais — fuck.”
(It drove me insane. Were you thinking about me? What I would do to you?)
“Need you,” you gasp, desire flooding in your core at his words. “So badly, I need you.”
“Tu ne sais pas combien de fois je t'ai imaginé comme ça. Me suppliant, m'embrassant. J'ai baisé mon poing en pensant à toi, juste comme ça,” Levi’s teeth tug at your bottom lip, releasing it to watch the flesh snap back into place. “You need me?”
(You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured you like this. Begging for me, kissing me. I fucked my fist thinking of you, just like this.)
“Yes!” you cry, rocking your hips to seek out that sweet relief of his clothed erection.
Levi’s hands travel past your thighs, cupping and groping your ass as he groans into your mouth, “Your apartment.”
“Don’t wanna put on a show for the neighbors?” you giggle as he allows your wobbly legs to meet the floor.
The ravenette crouches to his knees, fingers never leaving the skin from underneath your dress, “Figured you wouldn’t want our neighbors to watch you cum on my tongue. Unless, you do?”
To prove a point to his words, his mouth presses directly above your right knee, his tongue rolling little circles into your flesh. Heat swarms your lower abdomen, and your fingers lace through his hair.
“Levi,” you choke, head lolling back. “Let’s go, please.”
“You don’t want me to eat you out right here in the hallway?” the ravenette reluctantly pulls away, standing to full height. His fingers wrap around your waist as he walks backwards towards your front door, “I’ll admit, I’m a bit selfish. I want to be the only one to watch you fall apart.”
Your hands scramble to unlock your door, Levi’s lips attached to your neck, “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Good.”
The cedar opens and slams within seconds, his mouth desperately returning to yours. His kiss leaves you breathless, and you’re kicking off shoes messily, fumbling with the wings on your back. They fall to the floor, your apartment in total disarray as you make your way to the bedroom. You think you hit every wall on the way there, pressing Levi against the white surface, rolling around so he’s the one caging you against the wall. Hands fly wherever they can meet skin, lips land where they may — his neck, your neck, your mouth, his mouth.
With one swift motion, your back hits the mattress, Levi crawling on top of you. The bottom of your dress is pushed up above your breasts, and he moans low and deep.
“Fuck, so much more beautiful than I imagined,” he breathes, lips trailing down your exposed midsection. His hands cup your bra clad breasts, his thumbs rubbing your perked nipples through the fabric. They don’t stay there long, only enough for Levi to memorize the way your breath catches in your throat.
He’s between your legs in an instant, fingers tracing the material of your panties. His eyes flicker up at your expression, the greys fucked out and carnal, and you gulp.
“You want this? Tell me,” his head falls to your left thigh, peppering sloppy kisses along the skin. “Tell me you’ve thought of me.”
“I need you, Levi,” once again, your fingers lock into his hair, your hips bucking. “I need you so bad. You’re all I’ve thought about, please.”
“I know, walls are thin, remember?” you feel his smirk against your inner thigh. His right thumb swipes over your clothed slit, and he chuckles darkly. “So wet, I’ve barely even touched you.”
You whine in response, “Please, touch me.”
“With pleasure, mademoiselle.”
Both of Levi’s thumbs linger on your cunt, massaging the outer lips just outside the lining of your panties. You weap arousal, the ache in your core strong and prominent. It’s not stimulating enough, but it’s something, so you choke out a weak moan. His pointer finger hooks the left side, pulling the soaked fabric aside, exposing you to his hungry gaze.
Levi looks almost dumbstruck. His mouth parts in awe, his eyes widen. You’re soaked. How can you not be when this exact image is what’s been getting you off at night? Alone in your bedroom, fingers working delicious magic against your folds, whimpering his name into the dark as you try to deny your feelings for him.
If you had common sense, you’d use it to come to the conclusion that you’ve never been more attracted to a person before in your life. With his beautiful icy eyes and smart mouth, the way he makes your soul feel on fire. He’s consumed your thoughts, you fucking dream of Levi. But dreams and reality are drastically different — and the ravenette lies between your shaky thighs right now. It’s real, and so are your feelings for him.
You don’t need instruction to spread your legs. Despite the nerves rattling through your body, your knees part, your cunt on fully display. You watch in your own awe as Levi licks his lips, and finally presses his mouth to your clit.
It’s an instant reaction, the way you buck into his mouth and release an earth shattering moan. His thumbs continue to massage your outer lips, his tongue trailing up and down your folds. This action could get you off alone, but you know Levi has more planned. You can tell by the way he smiles against your clit, his fingers dancing closer and closer to your clenching hole.
His lips suction around your bundle of nerves, and his tongue starts flicking and caressing the nub. Rolling the muscle in a deliberate pattern, he groans. You can’t hold back the string of moans and needy whimpers from your throat, your eyes roll back into your skull and your body goes into autopilot. Your legs vibrate, your hands yank on Levi’s hair, and your brain turns to mush.
It’s sinful how good at this he is. You feel like a virgin again. How appropriate are your costumes now? His devil horns are still positioned on his head — you accidentally knock them off with your fingers. You sort of wanted to keep them on, but the thought leaves you quickly. With Levi quite literally making out with your pussy, it’s hard to keep a thought front and center.
And then, Levi positions his fingers at your entrance, and presses one single digit inside. You nearly scream.
He does it so slowly, sinking in his finger knuckle by knuckle until your walls hug him tight, “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
His words vibrate against your clit, and he hooks his finger directly into your sweet spot. He strokes the spongy spot languidly, not even thrusting inside of you. You could honestly pass out from the pleasure.
There’s a bubbling in your core, hot and demanding of attention. It starts small, but as Levi rolls his tongue at an expert pace against your cunt, it grows rapidly. You feel as if you’re going to explode, your soul bursting through your skin the second you cum. It’s almost a spiritual experience — Levi’s mouth devouring at your clit, edging his second digit into your hole. You think you find enlightenment when the two fingers begin to stretch you open, scissoring your slick walls. You pulsate against them, your cunt clinging to the actions with such vitality and grip. You feel your arousal slip around his fingers, beads trailing down and joining Levi’s salvia at the seam of your ass.
And when he starts thrusting, you can no longer contemplate the meaning of life. Because you’ve found it. It’s pleasure, it’s the reasoning found on the tongue of this man, it’s the air in your lungs that expands and dissipates shortly after. It’s indulgence. It’s coming to the conclusion that no amount of happiness or sorrow is even comparable to the experience of true, passionate pleasure.
“Oh my fucking god, Levi!” you babble, not entirely sure it’s even coherent. “So good, feels so good!”
You feel the bubbling start to tip over, and you realize something about Levi. You think you love him.
It’s so sloppy, all of it. The only precise motion of his constantly moving tongue, swirling and stroking at your throbbing clit. His fingers are messy, desperate thrusting that you can only imagine that he’s thinking about something else — his cock slamming into you over and over. Levi has to be. He hasn’t stopped moaning himself.
You can’t look away from him, he looks as if he’s in heaven. Levi ruts into your mattress, using every muscle in his body to devour you with his tongue, fuck you with his fingers. His toes are curling. You can’t stop thinking about what he’d look like plunging his cock into you, how crazed and passionate Levi would be. The pulsing in your abdomen only increases at the thought, your noises increasingly becoming more high pitched and needy.
“Getting so tight, you close?” Levi moans, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Fucking squeezing on me, that’s it angel, cum.”
You thank whatever forces created the man between your legs. Between his tousled black locks splattered between your knuckles, to his blown out pupils and desperate expression — you think maybe Levi should’ve been the one dressed as an angel.
You roll your hips against his tongue once more, and your climax slams into you like a freight train. You scream breathlessly, gasping and fighting for oxygen. Levi’s knocked the wind out of you. Pure white surges through your vision, but you don’t miss the mesmerized gaze he sends you. Your thighs clamp around his head, he lets you ride the waves of release, rocking yourself against his face and fingers.
You slump completely against your mattress with rapid inhales of air, a stupified chuckle heaving from your lungs. Levi licks at your nub through your last pulses of orgasm, until you’re whining and pulling away from his attention.
His face is drenched in spit and your juices, and you think Levi has never looked more beautiful than he has in this moment. Soft eyes, a satisfied smile on his lips, he crawls up your body. A gentle kiss is placed on your swollen pout, and he hums.
“Not bad?” he chuckles at your lifeless form.
“Not bad? You just fucked the common sense out of me,” you sigh. “Holy shit, Levi, I don’t think I’ve ever came that fast before. What the fuck?”
“Who said I was done?”
Your sleepy eyes widen, looking at him in confusion, “Huh?”
“That was reckless of me,” his head dips down, attaching his slicked lips to your collarbone. “I should’ve taken my time with you, got carried away. Encore une fois, une autre.”
(Again, one more.)
You shake your head, trying to get the words out before Levi falls between your thighs again. You fail.
A long, slow stripe up your folds sends your mind reeling. You weakly yelp, too tired to protest, the ache in your core reigniting.
Ever so gently, the tip of his tongue circles the outer rim of your clit. He teases the hood, stroking downwards to avoid going all out on the exposed nerves, your walls clamping down at the pleasure. You’re out of reasons to stop him, it feels way too fucking good, so you don’t.
“Could do this for hours,” Levi mumbles huskily, bringing his drenched fingers to your cunt once more. He swipes, gathering your arousal and sticky release, and sinks in his two digits once more. You groan in synchronicity, your pussy squeezing around him as he pushes in. It’s too slow compared to the fast pace he had set before, every nerve in your body screaming in electric pleasure.
“Levi!” you cry, fisting the sheets beside you. Your back arches, bones aching in rejection to the movement, you whimper, “Can’t, ‘s too much.”
“Not enough,” he disagrees, attaching his lips once more to your throbbing clit. Levi sucks the flesh between the plush of his lips, and you’re past the point of no return. Embracing it, you dig your fingers into his scalp once more.
Levi allows you to rock your hips into the heat of his mouth, allows you to bounce yourself on his fingers. His hand hardly moves, letting you hit all your sweet spots on your own accord. His eyes never waver from yours, his expression drips in longing and lust. He speaks to you this way, you can hear every word behind those greys. He wants you. He needs you. And that’s enough to bring you to the brink of your second climax.
His muscle stays the same lazy pace, and you’re about to lose your entire mind. Not even a few minutes ago, you were telling him it was too much. Now, it’s not enough, just as he had said. Your pussy grips his digits with such a ferocity, you’re worried he may lose feelings in his hand. If you were wet before, you’re now an entire ocean of yearning. You can hear it, how absolutely drenched you are. With every thrust of your hips, the squelching reaches your ears. You could burn with embarrassment, if you were in a coherent state of mind.
But you’re not, and Levi’s about to deliver you another toe curling orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck,” you heave, going cross eyed. “Levi, I, fuck, shit!”
“So soon?” Levi sounds disappointed, but his tongue finally moves faster. “C’mon, give me another.”
Your scream is loud, and for a split second you’re worried your neighbors might think you’re being murdered. The bubble in your center bursts, and you’re cumming your brains out. Stronger than the first, longer than the first, you can feel the gush of fluid leak around Levi’s fingers. He scissors you through it, pushing back against your convulsing walls and licking you clean. You feel a single tear slip down your cheek, your body and mind completely spent.
Thankfully, the last squeeze of your climax pushing his digits out of your aching cunt, Levi seems satisfied. He places a chaste kiss to your clit, as if saying goodbye.
“No more,” you mumble, afraid that if he continues, your brain will leak out of your ears. “‘M tired.”
His hands smoothe over your thighs, massaging the skin with his thumbs, “You really are beautiful, you know that?”
You smile lazily as Levi eases himself onto his side, crawling up to lay next to your form, “So are you. Thanks, needed that.”
“What are friends for?” Levi captures your lips in a kiss, gentle and sweet.
You laugh, closing your eyes, “Oh fuck, guess we have to figure that out now, don’t we?”
He only hums, brushing stray strands of hair from your forehead. The action lulls you into a sense of security, of comfort. You start to slip into a dream, the warmth from his body welcomed and wanted. It’s only when it disappears you come to, watching through half lidded eyes as he pulls your dress back down, adjusting your panties back into place.
He must think you’re fast asleep, as Levi does not say a word. He tugs your comforter up over your body, tucking the material in around your waist and shoulders. He kisses your forehead, picks his horns off the floor, and he leaves.
You want to call out to him, ask him to stay. You imagine waking up to Levi would be a vision comparable to art — every part of you wants to appreciate the morning sun lingering on the plains of his face. You want to kiss him good morning, reciprocate the pleasure he’s bestowed onto you, have him moan your name.
Your front door locks, and you’re knocked out.
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The next week goes by surprisingly fast. You blink, and it’s Friday. Unfortunately, you haven’t seen much of your favorite ravenette, but you've seen too much of Petra.
Of course, you tell her everything. How you’ve come to the realization you have strong feelings for Levi, how he made out with your pussy for nearly an hour. How you’ve barely seen him since, but when you’ve relieved him of his shifts at the bar he’s given you that look — the same one he burned into your memory, the heated lustful gaze from between your thighs.
He’s all you’ve been thinking about. Petra seems to think you’re in love. Maybe you are. Maybe you just really want to fuck Levi. Who knows?
Still, you can’t ignore the thrumming of your heartbeat every time you think about him. Not even dirty either, just in general. You picture his smile, you hear his laugh, you smell his cologne — you’re hopeless. He’s fanned this fire inside of you, and now it’s out of control.
This is why you don’t date. You can’t seem to get them out of your mind. In your spare time, you paint. They always end up being a hazy rainbow of his lips, his eyes.
So, to distract yourself, you Google art schools in France.
You’re laying in bed, belly full of dinner, teeth freshly brushed, browser on your phone opened to numerous pages informing you about costs and tuition. You could get a loan, seek financial help, once you’re ready of course. There’s a particular school that catches your fancy, illustrious and highly praised. They offer introductory classes, for a fairly high price, but the idea of getting back to school kind of makes you excited.
You’ve worked hard to be where you’re currently at. Potential lovers and friends aside, you’re genuinely optimistic about what the future may bring you. Of course with this brings the past clawing at the back of your mind, casting self doubt in all those positive places.
You hadn’t flunked out of college because you weren’t doing well. You did it because you couldn’t stand to be miserable anymore. Your art had no meaning, you felt caged in a place where you felt you couldn’t truly be yourself. In a way, you’ve found yourself in your struggle. You can appreciate these parts of you now — your strength, your courage, your perseverance.
You wanted to find meaning, and you found it. Well, you’re still finding it. But purpose means something different to you now. Before, it meant belonging to something. Belonging to a perfect family, belonging to a perfect friend group, belonging to a constant state of happiness and creativity. Now, the idea of purpose looks more like searching. Searching for expansion, searching how to be a better person, searching for the things that move your soul. You’re reminded of how amazed by yourself you are — whether or not that sounds narcissistic is up for debate, but you’re content in knowing that your soul is as vast as the ocean itself. Your depth is admirable, and your insight has allowed you to find these traits in others. To appreciate them. The grass is just as green on your lawn as it is on others.
You can conquer anything, art school included. You’re ready to try again.
As you start to delve deeper into your research, a knocking interrupts your train of thought. You glance at the time at the top of your screen. It’s late in the night, just past ten o’clock.
It can’t be Petra at your door, she usually calls before showing up. She’s been making many trips to your apartment as of late, indulging you in girl talk and deep conversations. You’ve gotten to know the strawberry blonde so well over the last two weeks, down to her favorite color and why she refuses to eat mushrooms. The texture bothers her, and she’s very passionate about the fact dishes seem to taste better without them.
With a reluctance to leave the comfort of your bed, you groan. The knocking sounds again, and you stand, ready to give whoever’s at your door a piece of your mind.
Your bare feet pad along the floor, your silk robe brushing against your shins as you walk. Your apartment is warm, thanks to your endless search for the thermostat. Your dwelling is painted in mostly darkness, ready for the end of the day and the promise of a peaceful slumber. You flick on a lamp in your living room, and unlock your front door.
Levi stands, fist paused in the air, as if he had been prepared to knock once again. You freeze, tilting your head in confusion.
Your breath is caught in your throat. Levi looks as if he can’t stop breathing. His chest rises and falls like he’s out of oxygen, his muscles tense and halted.
Neither of you are speaking. It feels as if time is frozen. He’s staring at you, swirling eyes and clenching jaw. You’re confused, but you know why he’s here. You can see it written all over his face.
Levi isn’t going to tiptoe around his feelings anymore. He’s here to prove this to you.
Lightning strikes, and the two of you are hurtling towards each other. Clashing like thunder, your torsos collide in your threshold, and Levi’s lips press to yours. His hands circle your waist, sliding up and down your spine as he walks you backwards, kicking your front door shut with his heel.
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LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.
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taglist: (striked out couldn't be tagged ): )
@imkumichan @devilstempt @tokyo-banana @misslovingpearl @midaribaby @dekcolrehsb122 @notgoodforlife @astridthevalkyrie @asilentshout @blondeboyfriend @people-arent-food @araveticazx @eripeachy @ryukatters @resonancesoul @khwohsahnt @joykamado @thebeardedmoon @m2yatwins @esroh06 @sinnerofthewalls @kimchisodaa @bikinibrattoms @scummy-simp @himboslayer @erepiki @vngelis @levihny @ackermandick@nalu-trashytrash @ackermanslutsstuff @alyssumbooming
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squarebracketsmileyface · 28 days ago
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I'm still thinking about this lol, I love both of the ideas I already came up with, but I’m still thinking about it and I came up with another idea that might be even better.
Again, under the thingy for length and vague mentions of sex and alcohol, plus suicide this time too 💀 nothing graphic for any of them, but y'know lol
Still an idea for if it happened in highschool, but specifically for if I do actually get round to writing Tim’s little *thing* about Brian. I'm not sure if it'd technically be called a delusion, but I think it would? Anyway, Tim’s little thing about Brian where his brain latched onto him as a source of comfort and ended up with him going “Brian is a literal god made flesh and I worship him”. I could also have Tim lose his virginity to Brian during that time, I think that might be interesting, and could also be very sweet. I don't think I have any plans for Brian to ever really know about Tim’s whole *thing* about him (except I guess post canon? Tim might tell him then when they reconnect) but I think from Tim’s perspective having it happen while his thing about Brian is in full swing could be really interesting and really sweet. Especially if Brian himself is really sweet about it.
I think it'd still be that this is *both* of their first times, so it's awkward and a bit fumbly, but Brian would still be very gentle and loving with it. He’d probably be able to tell something's not quite been right with Tim recently, and it'd again happen while Tim’s drunk and spiralling, but he wouldn't really know exactly what was up. All he’d know is Tim’s not feeling great, and they're cuddling on Brian’s bed home alone because Tim’s very not okay. It honestly probably goes pretty similarly to how the other “it happened in highschool” idea, it'd just be that it happened at a different time, a little later on, after Tim’s thing about Brian had the time to properly get itself ingrained in his head. The feelings about it would be very different too, though, I think.
I don't think Tim would have been able to let it go after that. Like, in the first idea there's the “for whatever reason they don't just end up dating after this” bit, but in this one I just can't see there being a way I could make that work. Tim would absolutely want to date Brian properly after that, and if Brian for whatever reason didn't want to I think that would have properly broken Tim. As in suicide attempt, getting re-hospitalised levels of broke him because he'd feel like he’d done something wrong to earn Brian “hating” him enough to turn him down. And just generally I don't wanna do that to Tim lol, and it doesn't feel like something Brian would have done, especially at that later point in their friendship, but I’d need him to so they can only get together later on in uni lol.
Other than that though I love it so much as an idea, it feels like something that'd work very well with how I see young Tim and Brian in my head, especially young, very mentally ill with very few support systems Tim. He loves Brian, probably has an obsession with him, and he’s desperate to be as close to him as he can. Friendship was enough for a while, but he wants more than that. I don't think I'd have him actually on the feelings unless he and Brian were going to go “all the way” straight away. Like I wouldn't have Tim have kissed Brian unless I was also going to have them have sex within a very short time frame after that. If that makes sense? I'm not sure how I'd make that work though.
I think it'd definitely have to be Brian starting it all, rather than Tim. I think Tim would have been hesitant about telling Brian he likes him, simply because of how wrong it could go, and he catastrophizes about that until he’s totally convinced it would absolutely ruin his current friendship with Brian. And he can't have that, he *needs* Brian in his life, Brian feels like the only thing keeping him even moderately sane, so he’ll stick to just friendship instead of risking everything in the hopes of having something more.
So, yeah. I love that idea, a lot, it feels like it'd fit really well. The only problem with it is that I'm not sure how I'd make them not then immediately get together afterwards, which is annoying because otherwise I adore this idea.
in your universe, did Brian take Tim’s virginity? in my head he did, something about Brian being so sweet and gentle with Tim with Brian kissing Tim all over his body makes my brain go brrrrr
Oh definitely he did. I'm currently stuck between two places for when I want it to have happened, honestly.
Under the thingy a bit for length and a bit for the fact that it's talking about sex and alcohol a fair bit
Because on the one hand, I could make it when they get together properly in uni. Tim got overwhelmed at a party and Brian found him holing up somewhere absolutely not coping at all, probably just because he lost track of his friends and kinda freaked out a bit, and yeah they were both fairly drunk, but Tim needed comfort and Brian gave him that. And then once Tim had calmed down one thing led to another and it ended with them sleeping together at that party. Brian's definitely had sex before at least a couple times in this version of it, he's still awkward, especially since Tim's his best friend and has been for a couple years at this point, he doesn't want to ruin that.
Then both of them are like "well shit" the next morning after they stumbled home together and woke up hung over (Brian more than Tim, Tim's used to being drunk at that point and knows how to deal with it—though he does try not to drink, chain smokes instead most of the time—Brian not so much, Tim has to look after him a bit cos he's being a bit of a baby, but he doesn't mind that, counts it as returning the favour of Brian looking after him the night before) and they remember what happened. But they sit down and they talk, because Brian's a psychology student and Tim's had a decade of therapy (albeit not the best therapy, but still therapy), and they kinda figure things out and go, "you know what? I like you, you like me, how about we date? No one needs to know, that way there's absolutely no pressure from anyone, and we just see how this works out?"
Because I think that'd be absolutely adorable.
Or
I want it to have been something kinda stupid when they were still pretty new friends, as in, both probably still 16, maybe Brian had just turned 17, something like that. Once again, it was a drunk thing, at least on Tim's side of it. That's the one thing that's constant in my mind is Tim lost his virginity while drunk, because my version of him was pretty much at least slightly tipsy all the time throughout his time in highschool. He had a friend who was old enough to buy alcohol who had absolutely no moral issues buying alcohol for him even after realising Tim was becoming pretty reliant on it. Tim was struggling so bad with even just existing after getting out of the hospital to have at least a couple years of normal highschool before college, that he kinda needed the alcohol to help him cope/function.
It would probably have been a much worse decision if it was that second one, or like, Tim made the decision at a worse time mentally. Like, it wouldn't go badly for either of them, wouldn't fuck up their friendship or anything for more than a bit of awkwardness that went away after like a few weeks, but in this version of how it goes, it happens because Tim's in a pretty bad downward spiral that he doesn't know how to handle. Probably with Tim very drunk because something or other had happened, or had been happening for the past week that he absolutely didn't know how to handle. So he turned to two things he knows help, alcohol (drinking all day, probably skipping school for it so he wouldn't gey caught) and getting comfort from Brian. But this is a pretty damn bad spiral, so Brian's usual amount of comfort wasn't really enough.
He'd have found himself going back to Brian's place after school, spending the whole evening there slowly getting more and more drunk, with Brian at first joining him because whoo alcohol! Something they're not meant to have! But he doesn't drink as much as Tim and after a while starts gently attempting to be like "heyyyyy, maybe you should drink some water instead, you just seem to be getting more upset? Let's go make something for dinner and watch a movie or something, yeah?" And eventually that works, they eat and they watch a movie and Tim sobers up a little before they go to bed, but he's still struggling a lot (probably hallucinations is how I'm thinking, hallucinations and rapid switching, thought they wouldn't know that second part, probably just assumed it was part of the being drunk) and he ends up crawling into bed with Brian instead of taking the air mattress on the floor like he usually does when he stays over.
They end up kissing and don't get round to talking about anything before they're very awkwardly wiggling out of their clothes and figuring out how having sex actually works. Then the next morning rolls around and they're not as awkward as they expected to be, they don't regret it exactly, but they're also a bit like "😬 oh we did that... Well, uh... As long as we're still friends?" And it kinda ends there, they both definitely still have crushes on each other but for whatever reason neither of them act on that again. Until uni comes along, then you get that same party (the one Jay and Alex also "get together" at for the first time properly) and they sleep together again for the first time in like a year or so, and this time they actually talk about it and have that same whole "I like you, you like me, how about we date?" exchange as above.
...could technically have both if I wanted, just make Tim forget about the time in highschool so he thinks the time in uni is the first lol
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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years ago
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TEᑎᔕIOᑎ
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ᗩGEᗪ ᑌᑭ!ᑭETEᖇ ᑭᗩᖇKEᖇ ᙭ ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ
ᔕᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: You and Peter have always been very flirty and touchy with each other. You chalked it up to just how he is, not that you minded. But what happens when Peter gets hit with Hydra’s infamous sex pollen and all he seems to be doing is moaning your name. 
ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎGᔕ: smut of course lol 18+ (virgin kink?, first time!reader, experienced!Peter, etc, unprotected sex cuz i forgot to write that lol be safe though, and a digusting amount of fluff) 
ᗩ/ᑎ: (non/dub con as per usual with sex pollen fics) although i tried to make as consensual as possible 
ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: 4.0k (i’m so sorry this is so long lmao)
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“We’re back!” Tony shouted, his voice echoing in the building. They had gone on a mission to infiltrate yet another Hydra base.
Peter was currently sitting and watching television and you were watching from the kitchen making two drinks for you and Peter. You both looked to the team walking in before scurrying beside Bruce and Tony who walked straight into the lab. 
“What did you get this time?” you asked excitedly. Sometimes the team brings back really cool things back from missions and in particular the Hydra missions have the coolest things. Unusually, Thor too walked in the lab before you all circled around the table and Tony placed a plant. 
He backs away as did Bruce and Thor so after looking at Peter with wide eyes you both also stepped back. 
“What is it?” Peter whispered.
“A plant,” Thor said.
“Not shit, Goldilocks. What does it do? You told us to take home, now what?” Tony said.
“Well, Man of Iron, it’s a sex pollen plant.”
“A what?” you gasped.
“Most planets use this as a sort of breeding plant; some species don’t really have the… stamina that Midgardians and Asgardians have.”
As Thor explained this, Tony and Bruce huddle away from the plant moving towards the computer to write down notes and data about what Thor was telling them. You followed pursuit also being intrigued by it. 
Unfortunately Peter did not follow and instead moved closer to the plant to take a closer look. The flower was beautiful. The petals were a soft shade of periwinkle and the pollen was yellow almost like gold. The same shade of golden yellow dust swirled around the flower itself. It was hypnotizing. He really wanted to smell it.
Suddenly as Peter got closer just to give it a quick sniff, he could smell an almost overbearing amount of your scent. That delicious scent of vanilla and lavender that you smelled so nicely of. That scent that made Peter want to run his hands through your hair and his nose along your neck. 
“One thing you should never do is inhale its pollen, if one does it could heighten their desires into madness.”
Peter looked up with wide eyes knowing he just did something he probably shouldn't have done. 
“What desires exactly?” Bruce asked.
“Well, sex.”
Peter started coughing.
“Pete are you ok?” you asked walking up to him.
He looked you in your eyes and his own dilated insanely. You backed away slightly concerned for your friend only for him to take a step closer to you. The lab coated with silence analyzing his behavior since it was so unlike him. Tony got up from sitting on a stool and Thor puffed his chest anticipating his next move; he was certain the boy breathed in the plant’s pollen. 
“It smelled just like you,” he whispered close to your face; his hands reaching under your shirt slightly.
The minute he put his hands on you, all three men ran you and Peter. Bruce pulled you behind him while Tony and Thor grabbed Peter dragging him away from you. You felt hot after what Peter had just done; in front of people too. He thrashed in Thor’s and Tony’s grasp, groaning and shouting from them to let him go. 
You felt tears brimming your eyes. You did not like Peter like this. He was crying and begging to be with you, which you’ll admit surprised you. 
“What’s happening to him?” you asked from behind Banner.
“The boy seems to have inhaled the pollen as I said not to do.”
“Yeah I get that! Why is he crying? Is he hurt?” you asked.
“Not exactly, the pollen will affect his mind and simulate pain as if he were to die, but his body will be perfectly fine.”
“What?” you all said at the same time.
“How do we fix it?” Tony asked.
“Y/n, baby. Please,” Peter practically moaned making everyone kind of uncomfortable.
“Well, the only way I’m aware of is, well, sex. And it seems like Peter desires the young lady,” you eyes widened and you shifted under everyone’s stares. 
“No, no way,” Tony said; you were like a daughter to Tony and therefore boys were something he wasn’t too keen on the idea of you having. He still thinks you’re too young even though you’re already a consenting adult. 
“Tony, the boy-”
“No, I’m not letting Y/n do that. We’ll find a different cure. Take him to his room and don’t let him out.”
“Tony, are you sure about this?” Bruce asked Tony.
“Yes I’m sure, Banner. There’s no way in hell I’m putting her in that situation. It’s not fair. Now come on, more time talking, less time finding a cure.”
“Technically there’s already a cure,” Thor muttered. 
“Go!” Tony pushed him out. 
“Is he gonna be ok?” you softly asked, hearing his cries and screams for you as Thor took him to is room.
“He’s gonna be alright, bug,” Tony said, hugging you. 
Steve and Nat both walked in the lab after changing out  of their clothes concerned with all the screaming they had been hearing.
“What happened?” Nat asked.
“Thor had us bring this plant home for analysis and turns out this shit makes anyone who smells the pollen horny as hell.”
“Really? Come on Tony, we heard the kid crying and screaming. What’s really going on?” Steve didn’t believe him at first.
“He wants to… have sex,” Bruce said shyly.
“Wait really?” Nat asked.
“With who?” Steve hesitantly asked curiously.
Tony and Bruce simply look at you, which you curled into yourself feeling embarrassed. 
“Oh no, honey are you ok? Did he do anything?” Nat asked, holding your hand.
“I’m fine, I’m just worried about him.”
“Don’t. We’ll fix this I promise,” Tony said getting to work.
Well now it’s been 8 hours and Peter is still crying and moaning your name. You had been in Nat's room with her, Steve, and Bucky. Sam and Thor had been outside ‘patrolling’ Peter’s room making sure he was as ok as he can be, though it’s been proven that he seems to be in excruciating pain. 
Tony and Bruce had been in the lab the entire day, you’d think they made wonderful progress and found a cure by now but no. All they’ve found was normal samples of Peter’s… everything. He was physically perfectly fine. 
You were very quiet as they played video games and watched movies. You couldn’t help but feel burdened because you knew you could fix all of this. All you needed to do was go to Peter’s room and let him have his way with you. It’s not like you wouldn’t mind. You and Peter have always had this sort of tension and extra friendly behavior between you guys ever since you met. 
To say you hadn’t developed feelings for him would be a huge lie. 
“Are you ok?” Nat asked you.
“No, not really.”
“I know you want to help him but it’s for the better. Let Tony and Bruce find a cure.”
“Actually that won’t be happening anytime soon,” Thor said, walking with Sam. 
“What happened?” Steve asked.
“They haven’t found anything and although Peter will be physically fine, mentally he could be extremely traumatized by the time they find something, if anything. The pollen mimics physical pain until sexual ‘needs’ are fulfilled by the person they desire most,” Thor looked to you at the end. 
“I want to help him,” you said.
“Y/n, that’s not fair to you,” Steve said.
“And it’s not fair to Peter if I don’t help! He didn’t mean to smell the flower. I can't just sit here waiting for nothing to happen when I can go in there and help him!” you argued, “If I don’t, he’ll not only hate you for keeping me away from him but me too for not trying.”
“Don’t be silly, he’d never hate you,” Nat said.
“He will if I’m the reason he’s going to be traumatized for the rest of his life.”
“Come with me,” Nat said, holding your hand.
“Nat,” Steve warned.
“Steve, you and I both know this has to happen. They’re adults,” Nat shot back. 
You followed Nat out of the room. 
“Are you absolutely sure about this? Your first time should be special-”
“First time?” your eyes widen.
“Y/n, I know you're a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin,” you mumbled.
“Really? When was your first?” she poked.
“It was- was in, it was high school,” you stuttered.
“With who?”
“... Tommy?” you said after a long moment of silence, trying to come up with a name.
“Tommy?” Nat smirked.
“Yeah, he was in my history class,” you lied.
“Ok we’ll work on that,” she said.
“On what?”
“Lying.”
“Hey, virginity is merely a social construct made by men who think their tiny dicks have the ability to change a woman’s life. It’s gonna be like a five second pump; I’ll be in and out,” Nat laughed at that.
“Ok, fine. Follow me.”
You followed her to Peter’s room where his moans and groans got louder with each step you got closer. Truthfully you were a bit nervous about the situation. Sure you did imagine your first to be extra special in a dim lit room with flowers and with someone you love. Well, now it looks like it’s going to be a dark room with your best friend who’s in the room driven by magic sex pollen, but at least you love him. 
You got to the door and Peter instantly knew you were on the other side. His senses overwhelmed him with your scent, your racing heart beat. You exchanged a few words with Nat before she hugged you and left you to go into his room alone. 
You slipped inside and immediately met with Peter crawling on the floor to you in nothing but a pair of boxers; a large prominent tent formed where his dick was. 
“Y/n, you’re here,” he rubbed your legs and kissed your thighs softly still on the floor at your feet. 
“Yeah, I am. I’m here to help you,” you said shakily.
“Oh god, you smell so good,” his hand reached up behind your thighs towards your ass and you panicked. 
“Peter wait,” you pulled his hand away. 
“What, baby? What’s wrong?” he too panicked.
“Nothing, I just… I’m kinda scared.”
“Of what? Of me?” he stood up and backed away from you.
“No! Not of you. I’ve never… done this, you know?”
“Y/n, why are doing this then- ugh!” he groaned, a wave of need and sexual frustration rushed over him making his body cramp. 
“I want to help you,” you grabbed his hand; he pulled his hand back very quickly and retracted his body over to the bed. 
“Peter, please let me help you,” you walked over to him.
“No, Y/n. I can’t do that to you.”
You were getting tired of his arguing. You wanted to do this. You rushed to him and took your shirt off hoping that’ll prove a point or something. 
“Look, look. I want to help you, Pete. Let me do that,” you cupped his face making him look at you. 
His eyes were so dilated nearly black as he looked into your eyes. His hands caressed your bare stomach and lower back making goosebumps rise across your body. He leaned forward running his nose along your neck breathing you in. He used every ounce of control he had in his body to not flip you on the bed rail you into the mattress. He had to be gentle. The idea of you never have been touched shouldn't have turned him on as much as it does. 
Your stomach fluttered and you let out a shaky breath. Arousal pooled in your underwear with each move that Peter made. Your hands rested on his shoulders unsure of what to do but thankfully Peter moved your hands in his hair and you gently ran your fingers through his curly brown locks as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. 
He moved your bra strap down your shoulder tracing his lips along your collarbone to your shoulder.
“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered against your skin.
“It’s ok Pete, I want to help you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you feel good.” 
He practically growled picking you up and laying you on his bed. He kissed your stomach and left small bites and purple marks littered across your belly. He looked at you to make sure you were ok before pulling your shorts down your legs and off to the side. He continued to kiss up and down your legs growing harder at the small pants and gasps you made above him. 
“I'm gonna give you a little taste, ok darling?” he whispered against your inner thighs.
You nodded and lifted your hips off the bed for Peter to easily take your underwear off. You grew embarrassed at how wet you were. Peter only chuckled before going in a licking along your entrance. You gasped and clenched your thighs together, only to wrap around Peter’s head pulling him closer to you.
This isn’t Peter’s first time eating a girl out so he was obviously quite skilled in bringing you a lot of pleasure from his tongue alone. Now in his twenties, after high school and after his identity was revealed, Peter somewhat tumbled his way into playboy town just like his mentor. 
Girls left and right shot their chance to spend a night in the spider boy’s bed. But when Peter met you, oh boy, the kid fell in love. You were this innocent little thing that Peter just wanted to hold and take care of all the time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stopped seeing other women in hopes that one day you’d be out of your mind enough to give him a shot. 
Now here you were, laying in his bed like an angel, letting him have his way with you because he was shithead and smelled the flower when he wasn’t supposed to. 
Your hips squirmed around, pressure building up in the pit of your stomach. You moaned loudly as you got closer to your oragsm. Your hands went to Peter’s hair making him hum when you tugged on his hair. His vibrations pushed over the edge and you came for the first time that night on Peter’s face.
“God that was hot, baby. Are you ok?” he asked, crawling up your body after discarding his boxers.
“Yeah, that was amazing,” you cupped his face, smiling.
He leaned down and kissed you for the first time ever. His hands roamed your almost naked body except for your bra of which you still had on. Not for long of course. Peter leaned back to sit up pulling you with him so you were now sitting straddling his lap. 
You could feel his dick against you and your body shuddered in arousal. His hands wrapped around you to skillfully remove your bra, the last piece of clothing left on you. When he did so you covered yourself in instinct never having been naked in front of anyone before in your life. 
“Don’t cover up princess. You’re so beautiful. I wanna see you,” he whispered, cupping his hand under your chin so you could look at him.
“Sorry, it’s- It’s a lot,” you whispered back. 
“I know and I’ll try to go slow but if I’m not inside you right now I think I’m gonna pass out,” he moaned. 
You looked down in between your bodies to find Peter’s dick big, swollen, and red. You felt bad because you don’t know if it’ll fit inside you and it looks painful. 
“Please, Yn,” Peter had tears in eyes begging for you to take the pain away.
“Ok, I’m ready.”
Peter grabbed his cock and lined up to your entrance. You got up and slowly sank down feeling him stretching you out. With how aroused and wet you were after Peter’s mouth you were able to slide all the way down without feeling too much pain.
Peter moaned when he bottomed out and grabbed your face you kiss passionately. You moved slowly up and down and soon all the pain you felt subsided into pleasure and you too started moaning above him. 
“You look so fucking good riding me, princess.”
His words made you moan even more embarrassed that everyone can probably hear you and Peter having sex. You bit your lip in hopes to silence the moans as much as possible, but Peter didn’t like that.
“Don’t. I want everyone in this building to know who fucking you this good,” he flipped you over onto you back and started thrusting wildly. 
“Let them know what a good little girl you are for daddy. Let them know who’s name you’re gonna be screaming all night.”
“Peter oh god,” you moaned.
“Huh? You like it when I call you a good girl?”
“Yes!”
“My good girl. My little slut,” Peter groaned in your ear.
You were getting insanely close to your climax and Peter’s words only sped up the approach. 
“Daddy, I think I’m close,” you whispered, pleasure becoming overwhelming.
“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said.
Your oragsm ripped through you and you practically screamed into his ear. Pleasure came over you in a huge wave. Your eyes screwed shut and your legs wrapped around Peter’s torso pulling him impossibly close. Your body felt limp under Peter’s and when you opened your eyes Peter's face held worrisome and frustration. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“I haven’t came,” his voice trembled.
“It’s ok. We can keep going,” you said tiredly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he buried his face in your neck.
“You won’t hurt me, Peter. I promise.”
He kissed softly before gently flipping you over and thrusted into furiously.
Six hours later Peter finally came after you did so nine times; and that was before you stopped counting. Your body shook and Peter cleaned you up. He had a small fridge where he kept drinks from time to time and grabbed a water bottle for you to drink. 
You breathed heavily after drinking a copious amount of water before laying back down. You turned to check the clock on his bedside and saw that it was around three thirty in the morning. Peter crawled into bed with you, both still naked not caring enough to change. He held you impossibly close, burying his face in your shoulder. 
“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” he mumbled in your skin. 
“I mean it was a lot,” you chuckled.
“I swear if it weren’t for that stupid fucking pollen our first time would have been softer and special,” he said, making you look at him with surprise. 
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, well, look. Y/n, I really like you and I know that timing is horrible but it’s true. I promise.”
“Well, I like you too,” you smiled at him.
“Really?”
“Yeah!”
“Wow. God, you’re amazing. Thank you for today,” he whispered, cuddling you close.
“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” 
You both fell  asleep soundly in each other's arms until you both woke up the next day from loud yet muffled voices downstairs. The sun was shining very bright, lighting the whole room up brightly. You stirred around and peeked over Peter’s sleeping body to find that it was around noon already and you two were still in bed. 
Peter moved a bit slowly waking up. You turned around to face and watched his beautiful face slowly come to life. His eyes met your eyes and you both smiled before bursting into giggles; hiding your face in his chest. 
“We’ll have to get up soon, you know,” he said, making you sigh dramatically.
“Let’s run away, before they make fun of us. They had to have heard, right?” you said, slightly panicked.
Peter just laughed and shook his head. He reached to kiss you, moving your hair off your neck eyes widening. 
“Oh man,” he said, thumb rubbing the dark spots he left on you.
“What?” You pushed the sheets off your body feeling intensely sore. You heard Peter gasped as you trotted to a mirror.
Your body was covered in bruises and hickeys that Peter left for literally everyone to see. When you looked in the mirror you yelled Peter’s name completely shocked at the state of your body. 
“I can’t believe you!”
“Well, in my opinion I think you looking fucking sexy,” he said coming up behind you.
“I like them,” you said shyly, “But everyone’s gonna see them, no?”
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen next time.”
“Next time?”
“Hell yeah. Only if you want of course,” he chuckled, “Let’s take a shower before we grab some food.”
That was filled with giggles and little touches. Kisses were exchanged practically every minute. You both came out of the shower and Peter so generously lent you a pair of clean boxers and one of his shirts fitting way too big on you. He wore these delicious looking grey sweatpants and a tight fitted black shirt. You practically drooled over him.
“No, later,” he winked.
He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before heading down stairs preparing for what could be an upcoming disaster. You came down stairs meeting everyone appearing to be arguing probably over what you did. Everyone noticed you two and immediately stopped conversing. 
Tony sat on a stool, arms crossed and an unamused look staring at you both while everyone else looked down or at each other, anywhere at but you guys.
“Before you say anything, everything that happened is my fault,” Peter pulled you behind him. 
Tony simply looked at you and made you feel shy and ashamed somewhat under his gaze. He told you to stay away and you didn’t listen.
“Don’t even look at her. She has nothing to do with this,” he said when Tony shifted his gaze.
“Relax, kid. Look we all talked. Thor told me about the effects the pollen can have mentally and the trauma it can impact when ‘untreated’ for too long. We weren’t going to find a cure anytime soon and I don’t even want to think about the consequences you’d have to pay because I'm a stubborn old man who didn’t like seeing the kids not be kids anymore. You both are adults and I had no right to interfere with that. Besides everyone knows you two are in love.”
“We’re not in love,” Peter mumbled.
“Love is such a strong word,” you mumbled simultaneously. 
“Don’t argue with me,” Tony said. 
“Sorry,” you both whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted.
“We also agreed that starting today we will be installing soundproofing in both of your rooms and Y/n, maybe put some ice on…” he pointed to your neck but then waved around your whole body because you were pretty beaten up. 
“Thanks, guys,” Peter said holding your hand again.
“Congrats on getting the girl finally,” Steve said.
Before you two left you saw Nat wink at you and you smiled running away with Peter most likely to go cuddle and maybe fuck another round if your body feels better. As much as you hate to admit, thank god Peter smelled that fucking plant. 
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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago
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The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader
(part 1) (part 2)
summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.
word count: 5.6k 
warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk), 
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a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series.  sorry it took so long.  I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first.  thank you everyone for your patience!  I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.
“Honestly?  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”
For the second time that day, you choked.
“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.
Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.
“Was it something I said?” he pressed.
“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.
He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament.  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said.  What does that even mean?  Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?
The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything.  He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?
When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed.  You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.
You dreamt that night that you were drowning.  Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore.  Or was he pulling you under?  Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.
~
You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.
“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”
“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically.  “Sorry, honey.”
“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.
“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now.  “I got, uh, 559.”
Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.
“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table.  You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.
So, that was the end of board games for the night.  Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another.  You weren’t sure you could take that.  Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social.  Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.
It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you.  When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.
“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.  
“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.
“You’re feeling okay, right?  We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.
“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled.  “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”
“You… like them, don’t you?”  He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first.  “My family, I mean.”
“Oh!  Yeah, that’s not the issue, really.  I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit.  I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”
When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated.  It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation.  Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked.  He was fun, he was new, he was friendly.  I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation.  You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun!  You deserve to have fun.
Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved.  But now, Andy was added to that list.  You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father.  Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was.  He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?  
Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly.  The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic.  It was… nice.  Comfortable.  Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.
He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together.  His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now.  Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem.  His hand slid down to your back and—
“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.
“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.
“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”
“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside.  You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.
“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”
“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up.  “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”
“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you.  “Jealous?  Slightly.  Not that I see him as competition or anything.”
“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.  
“Honey, I saw you kissing.  It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed.  “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here.  Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better.  You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”
“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room.  It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort.  “Someone could see…”
“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”
You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway.  Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers.  “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.
“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.  
Your breath caught in your throat.  
“Are you scared?” he teased.  “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”
Embarrassed, you nodded.
He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours.  A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer.  You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting.  But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all.  Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.
You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught.  Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.
“We shouldn’t—” you began.
“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod.  Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone.  “We’ll have plenty of time for that later.  It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”
“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously.  “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”
“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.
You nodded, because he was completely right.  With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house.  He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around.  In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book.  “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.
“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.
~
You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness.  Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual?  You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.
You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did.  He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house.  With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.
He got you, though.  Not that that took all too much hard work.
“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door.  Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.  
He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion.  You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.
When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big.  You felt your back arching into his touch.
“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”
You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed.  He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts.  You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.
As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness.  Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed.  He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.
You whined impatiently.  “Andy, please, need you…”
“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”
His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly.  “Hnng, Andy—” 
You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.  It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled.  “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.
Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants.  The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.
"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked.  "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore.  You're gonna make a mess, baby."
"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.
"It's only fair," he shrugged.  "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks.  So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."
You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…
But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.
“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.
“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.
It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining.  He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit.  Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.
It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue.  You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly.  Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit.  He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering. 
Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak.  “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.  
“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.
“It’s not time to come yet, honey.  It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.
As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip.  You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.
He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck.  You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening.  It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity.  To Andy fucking Barber.
“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh.  You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.
“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.
You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true.  It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better.  But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.  
It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.
“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,
“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.
“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.
“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster.  “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”
You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.  
“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”
“No I’m—” you began to disagree.  A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.
“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”
You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else.  “Andy, I—”
“Say it.”
You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m…  I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”
He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow.  You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth.  When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before.  "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted.  “Want me to fuck you hard?"
"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.
He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream.  He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry.  His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.
His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers.  The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.  
"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."
"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.
"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.
“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.
“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty.  Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you.  “Look at me when I make you come.”
You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed.  Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you.  “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.
Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind.  You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him.  Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.
He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back.  He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.
You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.
You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.
three months later...
The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night.  Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed.  What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you.  You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.
He looked so out of place in your dorm.  He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.
“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused.  “What if he sees you here?  What if he sees your car in the garage?”
“You worry too much.  I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”
He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you.  It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you.  "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.
"Perfect age for a mistress, though."
You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused.  He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist.  "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked.  “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"
"Wh-what turns me on?"
"The sneaking around.  The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo.  It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."
You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently.  “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us.  And do you think I like the ring?  I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”
“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch.  “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”
You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.  
“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.
“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered.  His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist.  He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips.  Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger.  He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.
“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.
It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once.  He was so possessive over you, ironically.  It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting.  Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin.  Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life.  Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.
Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.
Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.  
The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could.  When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him.  It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this?  He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself.  You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place.  When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.
It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream.  You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop.  You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.
You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go.  You deserved to have fun.
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breaniebree · 3 years ago
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Since everyone has been so kind this week and mentioning a Breanie appreciation day (like honestly, how did I get so lucky here to have amazing readers like this) -- I am dropping 2 sneak peeks!
Sneak Peek Chapter 327 -- The One With the Lily and the Rose
HINNY
Harry woke up slowly.  The setting winter sun shone through the big windows and the balcony doors.  He half covered his eyes with his arm before he looked down at the bright red hair that was covering his chest.  He brought his hand down to her hair and she made a soft moan, nuzzling her face into him before she lifted her head to meet his eyes.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Harry said, grinning.  “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” she said, biting her bottom lip.  “You?”
“Brilliant,” he said.
Ginny kissed his chest.  “What time is it?”
Harry squinted at the clock.  “Too far, I can’t tell.”
She gave him an amused look before looking over at where he was squinting.  “It’s only a little after six.”
Harry’s hand slid over her naked back.  “So, plenty of time to do that again, then?”
Ginny snuggled back into his arms.  “Three times seems like a good start, don’t you think?”  When he only wiggled his eyebrows in response, she smiled.  “Do you feel different, Harry?  I feel different.”
He shrugged.  “I dunno.  Should I?”
Ginny kissed his shoulder.  “I just mean… I don’t know.  I feel like everything makes sense now.  That everything I was worried about was for naught and you and I are… closer.  I sound silly, don’t I?”
Harry kissed the top of her head.  “No, you don’t.  I do think we’re closer.  I reckon the fact that we’ve just lost our virginities together makes it more special, doesn’t it?  Like we were waiting for each other.”
Ginny’s nails traced a pattern on his chest.  “Even though I wasn’t… I mean, I’m not technically a virgin?”
Harry’s fingertips continued to glide over her naked shoulder.  “Not anymore…”  
She pinched him and he grinned.
“That didn’t count, Ginny.  We both know that.  Today was our first time.  For both of us.”
Her nail traced his nipple.  “Yes, but it was still a moment where it was…”
“No,” Harry insisted.  “Virginity isn’t limited, it’s about who you were willing to give yourself to.  I was the first one to be inside of you, Ginny.”  He tilted her face up so that he could kiss her lips.  “Only me.”
The soft smile on her lips made him kiss him again
“Did it hurt?”  he asked, frowning as his eyes met hers.  “Uncle Remus said it can hurt witches and… well, the bigger the um…”  his neck flushed.
Ginny kissed his chin.  “Did you just say that you have a big cock, Harry?”
He shrugged, biting his bottom lip.  “I’m not saying that to be like, you know… I just want to make sure that I didn’t hurt you?”  He brushed her hair back behind her ear.  “Did I?”
“It hurt at first,” she admitted.  “But you were so gentle and so… I was ready for you and that makes a big difference.”
He nodded, his fingers gliding down her arm.  “But after it… it felt okay?“
“It was lovely,” Ginny said, pressing her lips to his collarbone.  “And each time, it hurt less.  The third round was kind of brilliant actually.  I felt so… complete.”  She buried her face in his chest again.  “Merlin, that sounds stupid!”
“No,” he repeated.  “I feel it too.  I felt… complete.  Like everything just fit.”  He linked his fingers with hers.  “Like we fit together.  Like we were meant to be.”
Ginny kissed his chest again.  “I love you, Harry.  I know that you’ve wanted this for a long time and that I wasn’t ready.  I love that you were so patient with me, so kind.  Most wizards would have complained or pressured me and you never did.”
Harry’s lips curved.  “Hard to complain when my witch kept her mouth wrapped around my cock as often as you did.”
“Crude,” she teased.
He grinned.  “But accurate.  I love you and I would have waited until our wedding night if you’d asked.”
Ginny’s fingers froze from where they were tracing his tattoo.  “Our wedding night?  Better not let my mum hear that.  She and Zee will have it all planned out in a month.”
“Let them.”
Ginny smiled, her fingers continuing to dance along his skin.  “The thought of marrying you one day is just… gods, sometimes I think we’re too young to even be thinking about it and other times I can see it so clearly.  Us living here, maybe with some kids underfoot  one day, and it just feels right.”
“It is right,” he said.  “Not now, maybe not even in a year or two, but some day, Gin… one day, I want to marry you.  I want to have babies with you one day and the thought terrifies me because Voldemort is out there and….”
Ginny touched his arm.  “No.  Stop it.  I won’t let you think like that.”
“I don’t want to think like that,” he admitted.  “It’s just… I can’t be lucky forever and he’s…”
“No,” she whispered, her cheek resting over his heart.  “I can’t even imagine losing you.  I can’t even think about… Harry, you’ll defeat him.  You won’t be alone.  You’ll have people around to back you up like before.”
“Unless he locks the two of us in some sort of warding again,” he said.
“No,” Ginny repeated.  “Harry, I can’t have you thinking like that.  I won’t!  No negativity.  You have to be positive and confident.  I love you.  Tom has taken so much from both of us and I will not let him take you away, too.  I want our future, Harry.  I want to spend the rest of our lives together.  Decades.  A century or two even.”
His lips curved.  “A century or two, eh?”
“For starters.”
He ran his fingers through her hair.  “Ron has some mad idea that if I die you’ll just bring me back and kill me yourself?”
“Oh most definitely,” Ginny vowed.  “And I would make it so incredibly painful!”
“Gin?”
“I’m not joking,” she said vehemently.  “You would be in a world of pain.”
“Noted.  Gin?”  She turned her head to look up at him.  “I love you and I promise that I will try my absolute best not to die.”
Ginny’s brown eyes were full of emotion as she just nodded.  “Okay.”
Harry kissed her slowly, achingly slow as he framed her face in his hands.  He lingered over every stroke of her lips until she moaned and then he rolled her over onto her back.  Her breasts bounced at the motion and Harry’s hand cupped one of them, bending his head to suck one of the rosy peaks.
“You’re so beautiful.”  His other hand kneaded her hip, one finger stroking along her thigh before his hand slipped between her legs.  “I want you again, Ginny.”
She pulled his mouth back to hers for a long kiss.  “I want you, too, but I’m… a little sore,” she admitted.
He kissed her nose.  “I’m sorry.”
“No,” she said with a smile.  “Good sore.  Like after a really good game of Quidditch.”
“Comparing me to Quidditch again?”
“Yes,” Ginny said, letting her hand slide down to cup him.  “As I think I’ve just ridden a very hard broomstick, did I not?”
He snorted.  “Wow.”
She giggled.  “That was awful, wasn’t it?”
“Definitely,” he agreed.  He kissed her breast again.  “Merlin, now that I know what it’s like… I’m going to want you even more.  I didn’t think that was possible, but I do.”  He dragged his tongue over her nipple, watching it harden.  “Are you too sore or can I use my tongue?”
THEOBAS
“I get it,” Theo said, leaning back in his seat.  “Ginny and I talked about it last night, actually, your job and… what it means to be with someone who has to cancel all of the time.  The ramifications of that.”
Sebastian linked his fingers with his, leaning across the table a bit.  “It’s not going to be easy, I know it.  Being with someone like me is hard because of my job and I know that asking you to start something with me — after knowing that it could be like this — is hard.  I would completely understand if you didn’t want to start something between us.  I would hate it, but I’d get it, Theo.”
Theo squeezed Sebastian’s hand in his.  He had thought about it.  He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t.  The idea of never having definite plans, of never knowing when he would get to see him again.  It was something he had thought about.  But there was a bigger part of him that told him he was wrong.  He didn’t know what this was that they were starting between them, but he knew that he didn’t want to lose it.  
“We’ve already started something, Bas,” Theo replied, “and I think it’s worth it.”
“So do I,” Sebastian said, kissing their joined hands.  He pulled the privacy charms down as they turned to their breakfast.  “So, you said that you had something fun in mind for today?”
“Yes,” Theo said, looking at Sebastian from under his lashes and suddenly feeling a bit nervous.  “The professors are putting on a little winter festival at Hogwarts with ice skating, a little winter café, and sledding.  I thought that it would be fun if we went to check it out.”
“Sledding definitely sounds fun,” Sebastian said, his lips curving.  “I haven’t been sledding in years.”
Theo bit his lip.  “I don’t know about fun, exactly.  Professor Hagrid designed it and his idea of fun can sometimes be a bit dangerous, but I’ve never been sledding before so I’m not sure.”
“Even better,” Sebastian said.  “You’ll love it.  The thrill of flying over the hills at neck-breaking speed and not knowing when or why or how you’re going to stop… it’s one of the best things about winter.”
“I take it back,” Theo said, shaking his head.  “We can’t go sledding.”
Sebastian chuckled.  “You can hold on tight to me and I’ll steer.”
Theo’s smile widened.  “Well, all right, if you insist.”
“I do,” he said.  “How have you never been sledding?  What did you do in the snow when you were a kid?”
Theo shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just haven’t.”
“Dad used to take me and my sisters out every winter to this one hill.  We’d race to see who was the fastest.  Soraya and I on one and Dad and Selene on the other.  Maman would be down at the finish line, cheering us on.”
“Did you win?”
Sebastian nodded.  “Usually.  Soraya and I can be very competitive.  One year we crashed into a tree, broke the sled, and Soraya broke her arm.  I broke my ankle.  We were a mess.  But we still claimed victory because we hit the tree before Selene and Dad passed us.”
“You’re mad,” Theo said, shaking his head.  “I don’t think I trust you to steer anymore.”
Sebastian grinned.  “Just hold on tight and you’ll love it.”
“I did try skiing once.  Seven years ago, in Switzerland,” Theo admitted.  “It was actually kind of fun once I got the hang of it.”
“You went skiing?”
Theo nodded.  “Father dragged me off there during the winter holiday.  He went off to meet his concubine and I went off to see the sites.  I ended up seeing some Muggles skiing and figured I’d give it a go!  It was fun.  I liked the lift thingie that brought me up to the hill.  I would do that again.”
“You’ll like sledding,” Sebastian assured him.  “And for the record, I think I’d love to see you skiing.”
Theo grinned.  “I think It’d like to do it again some time.  See if I can still remember how.”  He reached across the table to touch Sebastian’s hand.  “After we go sledding today and check out this little winter festival at Hogwarts, maybe we can continue that talk about more we started.”
Sebastian’s blue eyes heated.  “Or you can just come back to mine.”
Theo swallowed, his heart racing.  “Yes.  I’d like that.”
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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago
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14 Anti LO Asks
1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.
Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because
A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.
B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 
2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??
3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.
4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.
5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭
6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).
I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.
Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).
Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.
Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.
Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.
Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.
However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).
So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.
(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )
7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.
8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.
9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.
10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?
11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.
(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨
12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).
Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.
(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 
13. FP Spoiler ahead:
Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.
14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?
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lahyene · 4 years ago
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Midnight Drive.
Pairing: stepdad!ransom x reader (18 y/o)
Summary: Your household changes when your mother is forced to marry Ransom Drysdale as a part of a business deal. Even though he’s technically your stepdad now, it’s sure hard to see him that way when you’ve already developed a bit of a crush on him. 
Themes: infidelity, smut, car sex, choking, daddy kink
Word count: 1632
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He rubs his temples in utter annoyance as his wife, your mother, goes on and on, lecturing him about how he shouldn’t spend such late nights at the country club with his friends now that he’s a married man. He’s tired, irritated, and ready to snap any second. Both families are well aware this marriage is simply a business transaction. Your mother’s grandparents are well known in the publishing world, as is Ransom’s grandfather. The two combining efforts brings wealth beyond belief, if everyone cooperates. However, the thirty-six year old man had no idea that his new wife would nag so damn much.
He had also been a bit wary of the idea of having an eighteen year old stepdaughter. Your forty year old mom had you quite young, and so having a “father” figure who was just a few years younger than her did not feel too different. 
Except for the fact that he was really nothing like a father to you whatsoever. At first, the two of you somewhat ignored each other. It was when he discovered you knew how to hold your alcohol that he became intrigued, and the two of you would start drinking together and actually getting to know each other. He’s blunt, sarcastic, crude, and sometimes even a little mean to you, but oddly enough, you like it. After being a part of such a rich and stuffy family, his straightforwardness often feels refreshing.
You walk into the room, feeling a bit sympathetic that he’s currently facing your mother’s wrath. Not to mention angry. You’re the only one who knows that your mom has been cheating on Ransom; an arranged marriage would never hold someone as feisty as her down. You feel a strange sense of protectiveness towards this man, and you have no idea why. Perhaps because you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him.
You know it’s wrong. But so is everything about this twisted marriage, and so you figure your crush wouldn’t harm anyone. Your mom doesn’t even care about him.
“Mom. Can you please stop yelling? The entire neighborhood can hear you.” You look at her in annoyance, coming over to sit on the armrest of Ransom’s chair. “You hang out with your friends all the time, why can’t he?”
Ransom blinks but looks up at you in slight amusement, the corner of his lips barely tugging upwards. He seems to have missed your subtle emphasis on the word “friends”, but your mom sure didn’t. 
“Y/N,” she immediately scolds, eyes narrowing slightly. “Stay out of this. Just go back to your room and get to bed, you have class tomorrow morning.” 
Ransom arches an eyebrow, placing a hand on your back. “She’s eighteen and in college now, for God’s sake- don’t tell her to go to her room.” He suddenly stands up, gesturing for you to stand as well. “I’m taking her on a drive. You need to fuckin’ calm down or something, I’m not listening to you scream your goddamn brains out at me anymore.” 
“In the Beemer?” you immediately ask hopefully, eyes lighting up as you ignore your mother’s incredulous expression. Ransom chuckles lowly, nodding his head.
“The Beemer. Let’s go.”
- - - - - - - - - -
“God. What a shit show.” Ransom lifts a cigarette to his lips to light it, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he takes a drag. The car is parked on some mountainous hiking trail, nothing before you but the nature under a starry night sky. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful; this certainly beats being at home with your angry mother.
“Can I have one?” you ask him hopefully as you eye the box, and he scoffs in response, glancing to you briefly before closing his eyes again.
“Hell, no. What are you trying to ruin your lungs for? Besides, your mom will be able to smell it on ya in a heartbeat.” He opens his eyes, taking another drag as his blue hues study the scenery. “She always been like that?”
“Wow, look at you, stepping up as a father.” You drawl sarcastically, but lean back in your seat, looking ahead too. “No. Guess she’s just stressed lately.”
“God, do not call me that.” He rolls his eyes, even shuddering slightly. “Aren’t we all? She doesn’t have to be such a--”
“Careful, Ransom, she’s still my mom.” You warn him playfully, arching a brow. “What, you don’t want to be a father?”
“A father, no. A daddy? Sure.” He replies with a smirk, turning his head to look at you. “So if you’re looking for one of those, I can definitely help you out.”
You can’t help but blush, not having expected him to flirt with you so openly. “What if I said I was?” you ask somewhat boldly, keeping your eyes on him to see his reaction.
He blinks, looking at you for a few moments as he takes another drag, then suddenly puts out the cigarette altogether and tosses it outside. He then sits up straighter, shifting himself to face you, leaning in close so his eyes can lock onto yours. 
“Then I’d accuse you of bluffing.”
Your breath hitches slightly as you stare into those ocean eyes, a little intimidated. You’re considering pulling back, telling him that it’s getting late and you should be getting to bed soon- but you realize you’ll only end up being disappointed with yourself if you go down that route. You have to at least try.
And so you lean in too, connecting your lips with his, kissing him as fiercely as you possibly can. Fuck it, you’re going to give it your all. 
You know it’s working when he grabs the back of your neck with one massive hand, his kiss far more rough and dominant than you could ever be. You gasp when he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring as his fingers pull your hair- his other hand goes to your thigh, squeezing hard. You’re already overwhelmed, but in the best way possible.
“Well, what do you know,” he mutters huskily between kisses, just barely pulling back to offer you his devious smirk, eyes alight with mischief. “I guess I was wrong.”
You giggle breathlessly as you pull him back in for another passionate kiss, murmuring playfully, “Wow, have you ever said that before?”
It isn’t long before the two of you are fumbling with your clothes, him hastily removing his belt in order to lower his jeans as you wiggle out of your shorts and move your panties to the side, situating yourself on his lap as smoothly as possible. He leans over to grab a condom from the dash- you give him a look and he simply smirks, shrugging nonchalantly. “You never know, right?” He suddenly pauses, looking up at you suspiciously. “Wait. Have you done this before?”
“Did you think I was a good, innocent little virgin, Ransom?” you whisper teasingly, plucking the condom from his hand and opening the package, sliding it over his thick length. You see him look annoyed, clearly from being protective, and you can’t help but laugh. “Relax. I’ve only slept with one guy before.” You raise a brow, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But I bet you’ll know what you’re doing way more than he did.”
“Oh, you got that right.” He mutters, suddenly grabbing your hips and lifting you up. “He was probably your age, huh? I’m going to be the first man you fuck, baby doll, get ready.” 
You gasp as he sinks you down onto his length, your sultry moan escaping your lips almost instantaneously as you hold onto his slicked back hair. “O-oh... Ransom!”
“Don’t you mean Daddy?” he hisses with a smirk, moving one hand to slap your ass roughly. “Let’s try that again.”
He bucks his hips upwards roughly, making you whimper loudly in pleasure. “Daddy!” You’re quick to correct yourself, tilting your head back as you start bouncing on his huge cock, pulling on his hair. “Oh, my God, you’re so... fucking big...!”
“Yeah? You like Daddy’s big cock deep inside that little tummy, baby girl?” he growls, groping your ass with one hand practically using his hold to move you up and down with ease. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit you feel good. You’re such a good girl for Daddy, huh?”
“Unn... yes, yes! That feels... so good!” you cry out in delight, bouncing up and down on his dick, riding him harder and faster as you move your hands to dig your nails into the fabric of his expensive shirt. His hands move all over your body, groping your breasts, playing with your nipples, squeezing your waist, even choking you at one point as he continues thrusting upwards into you, occasionally smacking at your ass so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks by the morning. You’re in absolute heaven from all the sensations, your eyes nearly rolling back as you moan louder and louder.
You’re completely breathless as you find your release, panting and shuddering just from hearing the low and husky timbre of his groan when he comes. You slowly lift yourself up, getting back in your seat somewhat haphazardly as you fix your panties and shorts. He removes the condom and tosses that into the bushes without a care in the world, adjusting his belt and jeans. 
“I can’t believe we did that,” you breathe out, running your fingers through your hair as you lean back, staring ahead with wide eyes.
“Yeah? Because that was only the first of many, my dear.” Ransom looks to you with a breathless smirk before reaching for another cigarette, leaning back rather heavily as he lifts it to his lips to light it. 
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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago
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Mark Tuan X Reader
Genre: The most adorable fluff I have ever written with some first time sex (the smut in here is so vanilla and soft and terrible but I don’t even care at this point lol)
Word Count: 14.5K
Summary: You and your boyfriend Mark had plans to go out on a date until the two of you find out that it is expected to rain for the rest of the night. What starts off as a romantic night in turns in to finally becoming one with the love of your life.
Warnings: Oral (male and female receiving), fingering, breast play
A/N: Hey guys! If I am being completely honest, this is one of my favorite stories I’ve ever written because Mark is such a soft, fluffy and doting boyfriend in here (and I feel with my entire ass that he is like this in real life) and I don’t know but I just find it so cute when boyfriends are considerate of their partner’s desires to wait for sex (it’s rare but if a man really loves you he will wait for however long you need him to)(it’s even more rare when he puts your pleasure before his own but there are men out there and I still have yet to find one like that but one day)(@God...When?) by the way, this is based on the song “Teach me how to love” by Shawn Mendes, I highly recommend that you listen to the song before or while reading this so it makes more sense. Happy reading!
Ooh, your body's like an ocean I'm devoted To explore you Ooh, what do you desire? I'm inspired I'll do it for you
Won't you draw a map for me? Laced with strawberries And I'll get on my knees Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me how to love Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love
“Thank you for tuning in to Good Evening Los Angeles. Make sure to stay indoors tonight for there is a 80% chance of rainfall with winds up to 25 miles per hour. We’re also expecting a thunderstorm on Wednesday with winds between 30 to 35 miles per hour—“ 
Mark released an exasperated sigh once he heard the weather forecast and was quick to change the channel in disappointment. 
“Well, I guess there goes our plans for tonight. We haven’t gone out on a date in almost an entire month because we’re both so busy, I really wanted to take you to that new sushi restaurant but I guess it’s just going to have to wait.” 
You giggled softly at his now upset demeanor and took this time to snuggle up closer to his body if it was even physically possible. Your bodies were practically glued together to the point where you could feel his heart beat against your chest. 
His arms were wrapped protectively around your waist as he was propped up against his headboard with you lying on top of him, legs on either side of his lap—hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Right after you returned home from work a little over two hours ago, Mark suggested that you took a quick nap to regain some energy before you both went out to dinner later that night. 
For the last week and a half, he’s been planning to take you out on a date and claimed that there was something he had to tell you. Being the impatient person that you were on top of overthinking quite often, you begged him to confess what was weighing heavy on his mind, but he would always try to change the subject and told you not to worry about it. 
As much as you were dying to know what he was hiding from you, you knew Mark like the back of your hand—if it was something bad, he would have told you already so you just had to accept that he was going to tell you on his own time; even if it meant having to wait another week until the both of you could go out on a date again. 
He was quick to give you one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants to change in to—this was a regular occurrence. For the last six months of your relationship, the two of you spent quite a lot of time at each other’s places. A lot of your stuff was scattered throughout his apartment; he purchased both your shampoo and conditioner, body wash, a toothbrush and some other beauty products that were currently sitting on the bathroom counter—your side to be exact. 
There were a few of your clothes in his closet, but you never got around to using them. Whenever you would sleep over, he’d lend you some of his clothes because he claimed almost every item he owned looked amazing on you. You had a few of your work sandals and flats on his shoe rack, some of your vitamins and medication on his kitchen counter and he even purchased Disney+ because you were such a fan of Disney movies. 
Your place mirrored his; he had set up an Xbox in your living room to play with when he did come over, he had some of his clothes in your closet and in your drawers; some that he left there and some you would secretly take over time. He left a few of his rings and a necklace his parents gave to him on your dresser and he’d even bring his briefcase over if he had plans on staying the night. 
Sometimes, your mutual friends would hint towards the two of you moving in together since technically, you already did. However, Mark never really said anything about it and you just assumed that he believed it was still too early in your relationship to move in together. 
You thought about it every now and then; you wouldn’t mind going to bed wrapped tightly in his warm, protective embrace and getting to wake up next to him in all his handsome glory every single day. Any moment spent with your boyfriend made you always feel so happy; Mark had to be one of the best things in your life at the moment. 
Your heart craved his presence all the time—even when the two of you had a small argument or disagreement which never happened all too often. Whenever the two of you couldn’t hang out and spend time together—if your schedules collided or if either of you went home to visit your families, your chest would always feel so empty. 
Mark Tuan is where you held your heart; the both of you might not have been together for all that long just yet, but you felt and believed wholeheartedly that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You could only hope he felt the same way about you because you honestly didn’t know what you would do if you were to lose him. Mark in more or less words was your soulmate—your best friend. 
From the time you were a little girl, you were such a hopeless romantic. You were in love with the idea of love and being in love and it wasn’t until Mark came in to your life did you realize how beautiful the concept of love really was. He’s opened your eyes to so many different things; he’s brought in so much life and color in to your dull and seemingly black and white world. You placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth—trying to take his mind off of the unfortunate weather situation and thankfully, it worked. 
He smiled against your lips, humming gently and deepening the kiss as he brought his fingers in to your shirt and grazed them just above your belly button. 
“That’s fine baby, we can just stay in tonight. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really feel like getting ready or dressing up. I just want to be lazy. We can order some take out and watch another movie if that’s okay with you.” 
He was silent for a few seconds, as if he was considering your suggestion to follow what the weather reporter said and stay inside for the night. He nodded in agreement before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. 
“That sounds like a plan. I don’t care where we are or what we end up doing, I just want to be with you.” You playfully flicked his forehead and giggled at his look of confusion. 
“You’re such a cheeseball Mark. Don’t say things like that, you don’t understand what your words do to my heart. What do you feel like eating tonight?” 
You repositioned your body and sat right on top of his lap so that he could look at your phone while you scrolled through the many take out options that California had to offer. He placed his chin on your shoulder; watching as you searched up restaurants and fast food joints near his apartment. Feeling his breath against your neck sent a tingling sensation to your chest; it wasn’t like you weren’t used to the proximity. 
You and Mark clung to one another like sloths. If you were cooking, washing the dishes or doing laundry, he’d always take his place behind you and allowed you to do your thing, but he had to be holding you at all times. He confessed that he just loved the feeling of having you near; your presence always calmed him down and made him feel at ease. 
However, he seemed to be quite touchy tonight in particular, not that you were complaining. His hands were lingering in foreign places; the two of you had yet to become one in that sense. Since Mark was your first genuine boyfriend, you had yet to give yourself to anyone. 
It wasn’t as though you were waiting for marriage or anything, but you were the type of person who believed that sex was a spiritual, sensual and memorable experience as much as it was sexual. You wanted to save your virginity for someone you knew would love you and cherish you for your entire being; not just your body. 
Sex to some people was a way to receive pleasure and to soothe their carnal urges—but you believed that it was so much more than reaching an orgasm. You wanted to trust the person you decided to give your body to and you were more than grateful that Mark was so patient, considerate and understanding of your feelings. 
Not once did he ever ask you to go that far with him; he made it known that he wanted to take your relationship at the pace that you were most comfortable with. Although you were sure it had to be hard for him to stay abstinent, especially because it was scientifically proven that men had their needs and desired sex more than women did; he continued to be such a gentleman and allowed you to determine when you were ready to give yourself to him. 
It didn’t take you long to realize that you were in love with your boyfriend; actually, you noticed that your feelings for Mark went further than just infatuation around the beginning of the second month. The two of you had yet to say that four letter word though; it almost slipped from your lips a couple of times, but you were afraid of rejection if you were to tell him only to find out that he didn’t reciprocate your fame feelings.
As the days went by, you were soon losing your resolve. Seeing him shirtless almost every day, kissing him passionately and making out with him fervently, having him drag his fingers along your bare skin—each and every touch drove you closer to your end. You knew you’d have to have him one of these days; and with the way you’d feel him harden up against your butt or your thigh as the two of you would cuddle or the way his jaw would drop and clench when he’d see you in a body hugging dress or even in one of his baggy shirts, you knew he was just as on the brink of insanity as you were. 
“Hmm, pizza sounds good—“
“We always get pizza—“
“Well, that’s because I love pizza. Almost as much as I love y—yogurt. Uh—fine, we can get whatever it is that you want. How about you decide what we eat and I’ll pick out a movie for us?” 
You could feel your heart rate increase immensely as you heard the l word fall from his lips—but your stomach sank when he caught himself. Was he going to finally confess what you’ve been dreaming of him to say since the day you realized you felt that way toward him? Did he really love yogurt? Or did he catch himself about to say the only thing that the two of you have been prolonging on getting around to and try to redirect the entire conversation so that maybe you could forget about it?
Luckily you weren’t facing him or else he’d be able to see the frown that quickly rose on your face. You continued to look at different menus for a few more minutes as he pulled up Netflix and began to scan through the many different shows and movies there were. 
“Oooh, what about Thai food? It’s been a while since we’ve had pad Thai. We can share multiple entrees if you want?” You felt him hum against your shoulder blade and you took that as a yes before calling in your order. 
“Should we wait for the food before putting on a movie? Or shall we watch a tv show for now and just wait for it to arrive?” 
“I’m fine with waiting, there’s a new episode of buzzfeed unsolved that I’ve been wanting to watch. Is that okay with you?” He placed a kiss on the back of your neck and began to graze both of his thumbs on your hip bones. 
“I like the sound of that. I’m glad you waited for me—you always have a habit of being impatient and watching without me—ow, what was that for? You know it’s true y/n. You finished an entire season of The Office while I was in Taiwan.” 
He rubbed the left side of his abdomen where you had hit him and playfully pinched your cheek. Your mind wandered back to that day three months ago; his entire family went to China in order to attend his cousin’s wedding and it was the first time the two of you went over a week without seeing each other physically. He called you whenever he had the chance and tried to send you as many photos of his trip as the terrible service in Taiwan allowed him to. 
In order to take your mind off of his absence, you sneakily watched some episodes of your favorite show even after promising to wait for him to come back. You tried to watch other series, but nothing really entertained you like the cast of the office did. Mark was pretty upset when he found out—you forgot that Netflix showed you where you last left off and it was on an episode he had yet to see. 
Hell, he had multiple episodes to finish of the previous season to even start on the one you currently were watching. He gave you the silent treatment for two days; although, he still continued to take care of you silently—but he willingly gave in on the third day after you cooked him some of his favorite meals to get him to forgive you. He also claimed that he couldn’t stay mad at you for much longer and he could tell you learned your lesson by how apologetic you were in order to get him to start talking to you again. 
From that day on, he made you promise him that you wouldn’t watch anything without him and the entire memory made you snicker. Mark was twenty-seven years old, yet he still acted like a child. Even his laugh was that of a little kid; you didn’t think it was possible for a man his age to have such an adorable, contagious and high pitched laugh that never failed to send warmth to your cheeks every time you were the cause of it. 
His laughter and child-like mindset were only two of the many things you appreciated about your boyfriend. He was like a breath of fresh air—he never took life too seriously as most of the people around you did. He kept you sane in a world where everyone was seemingly crazy because of how hectic the real world could get. Both his and your laughter filled the room as Steve Carrell’s character was freaking out about something and soon, there was a knock at the door which you assumed was the delivery guy. 
“I’ll be right back babe.” 
He gently lifted you off of his lap in order for him to get up and stole a chaste kiss from your lips while making his way to the front door. You decided to grab some napkins and chopsticks from the kitchen and waited for him to head back to his room. 
“Shit, how much did we order, this bag is heavy as hell.” 
You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh and led the way back to his room. He placed the food down on the bed and you began to distribute food on both your plates—all the while thanking him for buying the food. To say Mark was generous was an understatement. 
He loved buying things for you no matter how many times you’d tell him to save his money for things he’d actually need. Sometimes, the two of you would fight over who was going to pay; most of the time, he would give his card—whether it was at a restaurant, while you’d go grocery shopping together; if you went to watch a movie or went to the arcade, if you went shopping for new clothes or just random trinkets he’d see that he thought you’d like, he’d purchase it in a heartbeat. 
Mark just really enjoyed seeing a smile on your face and he would do whatever he could just to make you happy. You tried to tell him time and time again that you weren’t a materialistic person, truthfully—he could write you a heartfelt letter or give you a ring pop and you would probably cry.  But he’d never listen and you just got used to his generosity over time; it just showed you how much you meant to him and knowing that alone did wonders to your heart. 
Even if you had given him his own share of what you ordered, he’d playfully steal some food off of your plate just to rile you up. Mark was well aware of how protective you could be when it came to your food. There were times when you felt like sharing with him, but that was only if you both got different meals and he wanted to try yours or if you so happened to be eating and felt bad that he didn’t have any food. 
He did feed you to make up for his many bits of teasing and you could feel your heart flutter every time he brought the chopstick full of noodles up to your mouth. When you were both done and full beyond belief, he took the empty bag and went to go throw it away while you prepared the area for you to both get comfortable in. 
Once he was finished putting away the left overs and taking out the trash, he made a beeline to where you were and flung himself on top of you; earning himself a loud groan and a punch to the shoulder. He was quick to pull you back in to the previous position; allowing you to sit in between his legs while he intertwined one of your hands with his and placed his free one on top of your lap. 
“I was thinking we could watch that Ted Bundy movie since you were interested about his case back when they did an unsolved mystery about it.” 
Mark was always great at observing people; since he was more on the introverted and soft spoken side, he was more of a listener than he was a talker. For the last month, you’ve taken an interest in murder mysteries and solving crimes. 
You had the adorable tendency to repeatedly tell Mark your theories or who you suspected the killer was while you watched these shows and your excitement never failed to bring your boyfriend so much satisfaction himself. For some reason, you were beginning to feel warmth in your chest—it wasn’t the kind that you’d always seem to get whenever Mark would compliment you or did something to make your heart flutter. This was a feeling you couldn’t fathom in to words—it was one you weren’t familiar with, but it did feel good. 
Really good. 
Maybe it was just because hearing him point out such a small detail that he remembered set it in stone that he really did care about you. God, what did you do to deserve such a wonderful human being to call your boyfriend? What war did you lead in your past life to be the lucky girl who was able to love Mark Tuan? For the first hour of the movie, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off of the screen—it was just so addicting. 
Not only was the acting really good from both the main characters, but the storyline and the suspense was too interesting to pull your attention away from. Mark had to cover your mouth with his hand because you were unable to stop talking about how stupid the justice system were to believe Ted’s lies in the first place and that if you were a detective at the time, you would have seen through his act from the beginning. 
“He’s not even that good looking, why would these girls fall for him?” 
He snickered against your neck at your enthusiasm; you would always be very verbal when it came to movies like this. Movies where you would put yourself in the shoes of one of the characters and explain in to detail to your boyfriend how you would have went about the entire situation. 
Unfortunately, you failed to notice the warning at the beginning; you were too excited with the idea of how the director and all the screenwriters came up with the movie in it’s entirety to read that there was explicit sexual content in the film. When Zac Efron and one of his love interests began to have sex up against a vending machine, you were unprepared to say the least for what was coming. 
The female’s moans were extremely loud and Zac’s thrusts were rough; the two of them were practically shaking the vending machine and you were feeling flustered at the sight and the noise. Especially because you were watching such a graphic scene with your boyfriend who you had yet to have sexual intercourse with. If you and Mark were to have had sex already, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt so awkward watching other people having sex. But because you had yet to participate in that activity, it just felt so weird. 
Mark began to tense up against your body and before you knew it, there was something hard pressing up against your ass. You weren’t stupid, you could tell that this scene was having an effect on your boyfriend as much as it was on you. There was a tingling sensation between your thighs; you’ve felt it a couple of times before, but now that you were watching a sex scene and found yourself growing hot at every thrust and curse of how good it felt, you had a huge feeling you were turned on—but it wasn’t because of the two people fucking, it’s because of the beautiful boy whose embrace you were currently in. 
To your dismay, the scene seemed as if it was going on for hours—it’s as though you were now watching a porno and you honestly didn’t know how to feel about it. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by his now clammy hands and the way he was slowly retracting himself away from you, that Mark was having a hard time watching—especially because he probably wanted to be doing the same thing they were and you couldn’t blame him, you wanted it too. 
“Babe, I um—I’ll be right back. I have to uh—use the bathroom—y/n, what are you—holy shit—“ 
Whether it was because you were exceedingly horny at this point and wanted to give in to finally experience what so many people referred to as their favorite past times, or because seeing the woman on screen beg Zac to fuck her harder made you want to feel exactly what it was that drove her to the point of cursing and begging for him to go faster. You also wanted to use this as your way to nonverbally confess your love to him. 
You were a coward; there was no way you’d be able to tell him that four letter word without knowing that he felt the same exact way, so you were going to wait for as long as you had to. Surprising both yourself and your boyfriend, you brought your hands down to his clothed erection and began to palm him through his sweats. 
He was hard as a rock; just feeling him made your breath hitch. You had no idea what you were doing, this was another reason why you’ve tried so long to prolong having sex with him; you knew he had previous girlfriends and although he never talked much about that part of his past life, you were sure he must have had a few one night stands and you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to give him the pleasure he desired—the pleasure he deserved. 
However, watching his head tilt back as you shoved your hand in to his pants in order to actually feel him without the restraints of his clothing, you had a huge feeling you were doing something right. 
“B—babe, baby—fuck, just like that y/n. That feels so good. Ahhh—“ 
You pulled down his sweats to give yourself better access to his lower region and did him a favor by pulling him out of his briefs. The sight of his cock standing right at attention; the tip red and leaking precum made your mouth water. You’ve never watched porn before and the closest you got to seeing Mark naked was when he’d come outside in just a towel right after he would take a shower—so this was the first time you’ve ever seen a penis. Well, other than what your high school health teacher showed in class.
From what your friends would tell you, penises were ugly. But then again, genitalia in general was not the prettiest sight. Maybe you were being biased because he was your boyfriend, but his cock was very pretty. Was that even possible? You had no clue at all, but what you did know was that you wanted to feel him inside of your mouth and inside of your pussy. 
“Mark.”
He was quick to look down at you and with the way he was gazing at you; with so much adoration, yet lust in his eyes, you knew that tonight was going to be the night you gave yourself to him. You couldn’t wait anymore; you needed him. 
“Yeah?”
You took in a deep breath; suddenly nerves began to build up and you had a hard time understanding why, but you found yourself fondling his balls against the thin cotton material. 
“I’m ready. I want you. I want all of you Mark. I need you—I trust you. I’m all yours if you’ll have me baby.” 
He was at a loss for words; were you really telling him that you wanted to finally have sex with him? You giggled softly at his blank expression; he must have had been processing what you just told him, but when it finally registered in his mind, you were being pulled up to his level and he smashed your lips together. 
The kiss was rough; he was allowing his hormones to act for him and you were extremely thankful for it. In the past, the two of you had many passionate make out sessions which usually ended with Mark giving you an excuse as to why he had to leave early or why he took so long in the bathroom. Now, it all made sense. 
“Shit, are you sure baby? Fuck—I’m so excited, please excuse my swearing but fuck—I promise you, I’m going to take such good care of you okay? You don’t understand how long I’ve been dreaming about this day. Your body—God spent a lot of time creating you. I lose my damn mind every single day watching you walk out in these tight little outfits and in my clothes and it takes every single bone in my body not to just say fuck it and have my way with you. You’re so fucking beautiful y/n, every single thing about you is mesmerizing. You’re one of the seven wonders of the world—I would stare at you all day if time allowed me to. Everything about you—your personality, your strength, your courage, your passion and dedication to every single activity and job you put your heart and mind in to—you’re simply perfect baby and I can’t wait to show you exactly what you mean to me. I’m going to warn you right now, I’m not a mind reader unfortunately, so I can’t tell what you’re thinking. I’m going to need you to tell me what feels good, what hurts, what feels uncomfortable, what you like—just be vocal okay baby? I want your experience to be mind blowing. I want this night to be one you will remember for a very long time.” 
You bit your lip at his words—you knew you were making the right decision in allowing Mark to be the person to take your innocence away. He already was the rightful owner of your heart, so you saw no harm in giving him the entirety of your being. 
There was nobody else in the entire world that you saw yourself with—Mark was it for you. You came to the decision months ago that you wanted Mark to be the first person you experienced going all the way with and you could only hope and pray he’d be the last and only person. 
He pulled you on to his lap and reconnected his lips with yours—grinding your clothed core against his naked sex. His fingers were squeezing all but gently on your lower waist as he guided your grinding—a breathy moan left his lips practically every ten seconds. If you thought hearing your boyfriend laugh was your favorite sound in the entire world, his moans and growls against your jaw had to be pretty high on that list also. 
“Mark—babe—I want to suck you off.” He quickly pulled his lips away from yours and his eyes widened in shock at your sudden confession. 
“W—what—you want to—you want to suck me off—who are you and what did you do to my sweet, innocent girl y/n? Where did you get such a potty mouth babe?”
“I don’t know, seeing your cock did things to me. You’re huge—is that even going to fit in either of my holes?” 
Mark tried to cover up his mouth to prevent himself from laughing more than he should, but you were just so adorably naïve that he couldn’t help himself. You didn’t know what the average size; length and width of a penis was, but Mark had to be around 6.5 to 7 inches in length and his girth was thick. You looked at him and pouted slightly; you were only ruining the night the longer you continued to indirectly hint towards your lack of experience. What if he was laughing because he already knew you’d have no idea what you’d be doing if you did end up blowing him off. 
Apparently receiving head was something a lot of guys enjoyed most about sexual intercourse—so you wanted to do that for Mark as your way of thanking him for being such a perfect boyfriend. For never failing to supply you with everything that you need, for making you laugh on the days that you didn’t think you were able to do anything but cry, for picking you up and dropping you off to work when he had the time, for comforting you when you had a rough day by preparing you a bath and making you a cup of tea—you just wanted him to know that you were aware and extremely appreciative of his many sacrifices, how he was so quick to tend to your needs and how he’d drop everything to be by your side. 
He didn’t have to say it; you knew deep in your heart that Mark loved you just by his doting actions. But you were hoping that maybe one day, he’d finally say those three words you’ve been dying to hear from the first time he kissed you. 
“Yes, it will fit. How the hell are you so cute when asking to give me head? You can’t be real—fuck, hearing you ask to suck my dick is something I’ll never get used to but shit—I think I could come just by hearing you talk dirty. You’re so fucking sexy—please—blow me baby.” 
You stole one more sweet kiss from his soft lips and got down on your knees; you were level with his cock and you wrapped your hand around his length, earning yourself a breathy sigh. 
“I um—I don’t know what I’m doing, so do you think you could guide me?” He gave you an adoring smile while gathering all your hair and putting it in to a makeshift ponytail. 
“You’re going to want to lubricate me just a little bit so it’ll be easier for you to take me in your mouth—so you can either spit on me or lick the sides of my dick and—holy—s—shit—just like that—oh—“ 
You didn’t hesitate to follow his directions; gripping his cock at the base, you licked long stripes up and down; making sure to press your tongue down harder on his veins. You then brought one of his balls inside of your mouth; sucking and nibbling on it for a few seconds before switching over to the other side. 
After showing some love to both of his balls for around a little over a minute, you circled your tongue around the tip of his dick and flicked at his slit just to see what would get a rise out of him for future reference. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but you gave him no chance to emit any kind of speech before you finally wrapped your mouth around him. You wished you could have recorded his reaction in that moment; his moan went straight to your core. 
His eyelashes fluttered as he shut his eyes and threw his head back—you didn’t know what to think about his reaction so far, but when he brought his hands down to your hair and tugged on it all but gently, you had a feeling you must have been doing something right. You continued your movements but increased your speed—bobbing your mouth up and down on his shaft as quickly as you could. Since he was well endowed, you tried your best to swallow as much of him that your throat would allow; the tip of his cock met your vulva with every thrust. 
Tears began to build up at your eyes and you weren’t going to lie, it was painful. You were starting to choke and gag as he sank deeper inside of your throat. However, hearing his moans echo throughout the room as multiple curses fell from his mouth only led you to desire going faster—taking him completely down your throat and pumping whatever you couldn’t fit in to your mouth with your hand. 
“Shit—baby, that feels so fucking good I can’t even—your mouth is so—feels amazing—“ 
You hummed softly at his compliment against his girth—pulling away in order to smile up at him but ultimately shoving him back inside of you. It was unexpected; you didn’t think you could benefit from giving head, but you were having just as much fun blowing your boyfriend as he was adamantly was being on the receiving end. 
Something about seeing him writhing at your ministrations and hearing him praise you sent warmth straight to your folds. You also really enjoyed having his cocked stuffed in to your mouth; something about it made you feel confident; sexy even and you weren’t one to get all that cocky, but you were getting off on your boyfriend’s many praises of what a good girl you were. All you wanted was to please your boyfriend, you didn’t care whether or not you were doing it right—but hearing him whine and beg you to suck him harder brought you just as much pleasure. 
“Y/n—can I—do you think I could fuck your face? Would that be okay or is that too much? You can be honest with me baby, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this—I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to—“
“Do whatever it is that you want with me, I can take it Mark. I want to take care of you too. Tonight is as much about you as it is about me. I want to learn how to please you; I want to show you just how much you mean to me, so do your worst babe. Fuck, I love sucking your dick Mark. It feels so fucking good.” 
He whimpered at your explicit words; yet he was quick to shove his cock back inside of your mouth—making sure you were prepared for him before he began roughly pumping in and out of your wet cavern. He tugged on your ponytail ever so gently and pushed you further down his length to the point where your teeth were grazing his balls. You honestly didn’t even think you were capable to practically swallow him whole, but you could feel his tip deep in the back of your throat. 
That must have been a good thing; your friends always made comments about how they couldn’t fit even half of their partner’s cock in their mouths and apparently, guys enjoyed it when girls could deepthroat. The naughty and sinful noises falling repeatedly from Mark’s lips made it obvious that he was having the time of his life. 
“Such a good, good girl. You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth. God, if only you could see yourself right now. You look so fucking sexy and you’re taking me so well. Your mouth was made to suck my cock y/n.” 
You brought both your hands up to his ass and playfully squeezed his cheeks, earning you the most adorable gasp from your boyfriend. After this experience, you were well aware that you’d need to blow him at least every other day in order to get your own fill. If he already felt wonderful against your tongue, your mouth started to water at the thought of how he’d feel in between your pussy. 
“Baby—I’m close—I’m going to—I—mmm—“ 
Before you could even process his stuttering, his creamy, warm liquid filled up the entirety of your mouth. You sucked him dry of all his cum—making sure to lap up any left over substance from off of your lips. Absentmindedly, you brought your thumb up to his head and grazed your nail around his tip, flicking at his slit playfully. He lightly tugged on your hair and the noise he released from the back of his throat—a mixture of a moan and a whine caused the coil deep inside of your core to tighten. 
After a few more long licks against his girth, you made your way back up to him and stole a sweet kiss from his lips. His movements were quick; he pulled you with him back on to the bed and flipped over your bodies so that he was on top of you. 
“What in the hell was that y/n? There is no way that could have been your first time—you were—holy shit I can’t even explain how incredible that felt and how amazing you are I’m honestly speechless. Damn baby, you’re a professional; that was the best head I’ve ever been given. Your tongue—God, you were made to suck my cock baby. Thank you—I’ll do whatever it is you ask of me—anything baby. Shit. Give me a moment will you?” 
He began to take in deep breaths, his chest heaved right above yours. You couldn’t hold back; you released a snarky giggle at the way he was acting like he just finished a marathon. He had to be overreacting; there was no way you blew him as well as he claimed that you did. 
All you did was sink your mouth on his cock and bobbed your head along his hardened length—going by your instincts and what you believed would drive him crazy. You did suck and nibble on his tip in particular; he seemed to react the most when you focused on that particular area of his penis. It was obvious he was sensitive there, and you were going to use that knowledge as your advantage and for future reference.
Once your boyfriend caught his breath, he turned around to face you and brought his hand up to your cheek, cupping and playfully pinching it before stealing multiple sweet kisses from your lips. 
“You can’t be real—there’s no way. You—God, you’re wonderful. Absolutely extraordinary. I can’t even think right now. I know we’ve waited to be intimate for when you were ready, but damn—I’ve been missing out. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me, but I really would not mind receiving a blow job at least twice a day.”
You jokingly rolled your eyes and softly flicked his forehead at his comment; but you already came to the decision that you would need to have him in your mouth as much as he was hinting towards needing to have you. 
“If I’m already losing my mind at having your pretty little mouth around me, what more when I’m buried in your pretty little cunt? I’m so fucking excited to be inside of you baby—but first, I really want to return the favor. I want you to feel the euphoria you just sent me through.” 
There were a few moments every now and then when you would imagine what it would feel like to have someone go down on you. Whenever you would go out to meet up with your group of friends, you would talk about everything going on in your lives; work, school, family drama—and you didn’t know how the topic of sex would come about, but they all seemed to live very sexually active lives. Since you were twenty-three years old, you felt embarrassed at the fact that you were still a virgin. 
Even more so because you were in a relationship—although sex was an exceptionally big deal when it came to dating, it wasn’t everything. You knew it was normal for some couples to not have sex at all—some people didn’t necessarily care for it and others didn’t revolve their relationships around it. But both you and Mark were still so young; sex was on the minds of almost everyone at your age. 
Therefore, you kept to yourself and never joined in as your friends would go in to great detail about how amazing it felt to be eaten out and that some of them were so addicted to having sex to the point where they would have to call in sick from their jobs because they weren’t physically able to walk. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t envious of the fact that every single one of your friends has had some kind of sexual experience. 
Apparently, it felt better to have sex with the person you were in a relationship with—or the person you were in love with. Sex was more meaningful and there was more connection—more intimacy involved. One of your friends stated that it was because men had a tendency of giving their all when feelings of love and adoration were involved. Now that you began to think about your conversations with them, you felt as though their words played a small part in leading you to finally wanting to go all the way with Mark. 
“Hey, you alright? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?” 
You didn’t realize you were spacing out until you felt him run his fingers through your tousled hair. Seeing the worry that was now on his face tugged at your heartstrings; it was painfully obvious that he was enjoying himself. Maybe a little too much, but you liked it. However, you were well aware that Mark wasn’t going to allow this continue unless you were having just as much fun as he was—no matter how thrilled he was to finally get to love on your body. 
His reaction made you smile softly to yourself; although he would remind you on a daily basis how you were the best thing that has ever happened to him and that just the mere thought of you is what would keep him going throughout the day, it was nice hearing him worry about how you were doing. Honestly, what did you do to deserve him? 
“I’m fine baby. I was just thinking. But—um—I—I didn’t think we would be doing this so I—uh—I’m not really—tidy down there and I don’t want you to see—“ He giggled against the juncture of your neck and dragged his teeth along your collarbone; humming while leaving wet pecks in his wake. 
“Baby. Look at me.” 
You lifted your head and made direct eye contact with the older boy. In the beginning of your relationship, you were very shy to even hold his hand. Every time he’d look at you or catch you looking at him, heat would rise upon your cheeks as you would blush in embarrassment. But overtime, you were able to look at him without having to turn away from growing shy and timid. You believed it was because you were a lot more comfortable with your boyfriend now and he was very verbal about how much he took great delight in being able to look at you; so you’ve grown immune to his many stolen glances. Although; you still had your few moments of shyness—but Mark was a fan of knowing the effect his gaze had on you. 
“I don’t care about things like that, okay? Really—most men don’t and the ones who do are complete assholes. Whether you’re as bare as the desert or have a full on jungle going on, it really doesn’t matter to me. I’m going to eat you out nonetheless. We don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable just yet, but I’m going to tell you now, I’ve been dreaming about the moment I finally get to have my face smashed up against your pussy since the first day I realized I had feelings for you. It will feel amazing—I promise you. But just like you baby, I want to learn your body. I want to learn each and every curve—I want to map you entirely with my tongue. I want to memorize each and every single birth and beauty mark, every scar, every dimple. I want to know it all and I have the rest of my life to learn. I need you to tell me what you like—what you couldn’t care less for, what you want me to focus on, whether you want me to slow down or pick up my pace. I want you to be verbal about what feels good. I need you to teach me how to love your beautiful body y/n and I won’t stop until you got to feel even half of the amount of pleasure you’ve given me. Okay? I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 
Each word that fell from his lips; his entire confession of what he had planned to do to you filled your chest with wonder and excitement. You were never afraid of finally giving up your innocence. Sure, you were worried that when he were to finally make his way inside of you—the pain would be unbearable and extremely uncomfortable. 
There were quite a few first time horror stories that you’ve heard in the last year from your closest friends, some of your cousins and even a couple of your classmates. But you genuinely didn’t even think about how it would hurt; you trusted Mark more than anyone else in the entire world. You believed wholeheartedly that he wouldn’t hurt you and as much as you didn’t want to think about any of his past lovers, you were sure he had enough experience in bed to know how to take care of a girl. 
Hearing that he planned on spending the rest of his life with you just set his feelings in stone for you. The two of you talked about your future together on multiple occasions; where you’d want to live in, the kind of house you’d want to purchase, getting a dog together—things like that, but you didn’t think he was all too serious about you being the person he ended up marrying. It was still so early on in your relationship to plan so far ahead, but when it’s real love, you just know and you’ve known for a long time now that he was the man you want nothing more than to see at the end of the aisle one day. 
“Okay.”
“Okay? Are you sure baby?”
“Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything else in my entire life. I’ve found myself staring at you whenever you’d bite on or lick your lips. I—I’ve pictured how they would feel like nibbling and licking on my clit. I—hate to say this but I think I actually came once—I don’t know if I did, I don’t know how these things work, but my underwear was soaked and my vagina hurt the entire day so—please, eat me Mark Tuan. Show me what that tongue does. Fuck me with your mouth.” 
His jaw was now clenched and the veins on his neck grew more prominent. The low, stifled sound of what you assumed as a growl came from the back of his throat. He gave you no time to even think of what to say or how to react, he pushed you roughly on to his bed and smashed his lips against yours. His kisses were hard—fleeting, rushed—he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and kissed you with all the breath he had in his body. 
His hands moved all along your sides; he’s touched you quite often, but not in the way that he was right now. Your body felt as those it was burning in flames—there was electricity running through your blood and you had to squeeze your thighs together because of how dominant and animalistic he was acting. 
“Fuck, I didn’t realize how sexy hearing you command me to eat you out would sound. You’re so fucking hot, I can’t wait to devour you. But before I do anything, let’s get this off of you. Don’t get me wrong, you look so gorgeous in every outfit that you wear—but whenever you wear my clothes, I get hard every single time. It actually took every bone in my body not to beg you to let me have my way with you. Sometimes, I’ll even buy clothes for myself that I think would look good on you. I really don’t want to rush our relationship and all I care about is your happiness and your well being—but hearing that you trust me and that you want me to be the only man—a lucky man at that—to have you—I’ll never take that for granted.” 
He practically yanked his shirt off of you and flew it somewhere across the room. It didn’t matter to either of you—you were both eager to finally indulge in one another and with the way he was quickly discarding both of your clothes from your bodies; impatient to have his way with you—you knew he didn’t care about the state of his bedroom floor. Not when he was seconds away from ravishing in your dripping cunt. 
“I really wanted to take my time with you—I wanted our first time together to be soft and slow, but I can’t. The need to fuck the living shit out of you is strong. Oh God—your tits. Ah, I’m fucked. Seriously. As your boyfriend, I always find my gaze wandering over to these pretty titties of yours. But fuck—seeing them bare; your nipples are so perky and I’m sure if I were to flick one of them—they’d be hard. I can’t even tell you how much I’ve been wanting to suck on these huge breasts of yours. Whenever you’d wear a low cut top or even tops that are tight and hug your breasts perfectly—I wondered how wonderful it would feel getting to suck on and massage them.” 
You bit your lip at the thought of him palming himself and getting hard while thinking about your boobs. The truth was all coming out and you wished you came to the decision to become one with him sooner—much sooner. His words were doing wonders on the burning sensation in between your thighs. 
“Can I tell you something?” He nodded vehemently and you found yourself snickering at how eager he was to respond anything you said or asked of him. 
“I’ve played with my breasts a couple of times and I’d pretend it was you in my place. You have such long, skinny fingers and you have such nice hands for a man—I’ve grown curious about what you would do to me once we became intimate and I actually really enjoy how it feels. Breast play—I like it a lot, but I’m sure you can do so much better.”
“You’ve touched yourself?”
“No. Not down there. Only my boobs. I’m too much of a coward to masturbate.” 
Out of no where, he lifted up one of his hands and motioned for you to take it. You looked at him in confusion, but he motioned towards your mounds and you had an idea of what he was hinting towards wanting you to do. 
“Take my hand and show me how you touch your breasts when you think of me—when you’re horny and playing with yourself. You know, I would have gladly done it for you. All you had to do was ask baby—now I’m hard thinking about you kneading these large mounds. Shit, we need to speed up this process, I need to hurry up and rail you or else I think I’m going to lose my fucking mind. Teach me baby—show me how you do it so I get an idea of what makes your pussy throb. Show me—and then I’ll take matters in to my own hands.” 
You did as you were told—not wanting to wait much longer to feel his hands wander throughout your body. His touch was featherlight; you could tell that he was all talk. His words might have been naughty but you knew he was still going to be a gentleman when it came down to it. Mark was always so soft and gentle whenever it came to you. 
Sometimes, he’d take care of you as if you were a child; he would feed you if the two of you went out on a date, he would push you on the inside of the sidewalk, run you a bath after you had a long day and he’d also tuck you in to bed before preparing what he needed for the next day.
 As horny as he probably was right now, you could tell he was going to try his best not to go past his boundaries and risk making you feel uncomfortable. You dragged his hand between the valley of your breasts; letting his nails graze just below your bosom and you could feel goosebumps rising on your skin at how cold his fingertips were. To his surprise, you cupped one of your breasts with his hand and whispered for him to take your nipple in between his fingers. 
“Pinch it—mmm—like that.”
“Like this?” 
He squeezed your left breast—molding and kneading while twisting at your right nipple. Just the feeling of him pinching and rolling it in between his fingers was enough to elicit a breathy moan from your lips. You leaned your head back against his pillows as he was hovering over your lap. He leaned down so that you could feel his cock against your clothed entrance. 
Mark had left you only in your underwear while he was completely bare of any clothing—if you weren’t so focused on watching him show so much love to your chest, you would have ripped your panty off just to have his naked sex pressed up against yours. He continued his ministrations—spending most of his time just fondling your tits and flicking your nipples. 
After a couple of minutes tugging on his soft brown locks and trying to conceal your noises of pleasure, he looked at you with a devilish grin and a sneaky glint in his eye. Right as you were about to ask him why he looked as if he had a trick up his sleeve, he lowered his face down to your chest and wrapped his lips around your breast. 
“Oh God—mmm—Mark—holy—“ 
You couldn’t describe how amazing it felt having him suck on one of your mounds. The sensation was exceedingly mind blowing. He brought your nipple in between his teeth; lightly biting your hardened nub. He lifted his hand up to your other breast and began to squeeze it softly. When you felt him humming as he started to switch back and forth between your boobs; making sure both of your breasts got the same amount of attention, the throbbing sensation in between your thighs heightened. 
“Such pretty—pretty titties. I could suck on these things all day if you’d let me.” 
You were about to retaliate—wanting to jokingly scold him because you weren’t quite used to him being this vulgar, but he was quick to return his mouth back to your chest. 
“Mark.” 
He looked so adorable as he released your boob with a loud pop sound. “Yes baby? You okay?” 
You nodded in agreement before reaching for his hand and lowering it down to the waistband of your panties. Your boyfriend needed to know just how absolutely mad you were quickly becoming at his generous ministrations. He practically sucked your tits like it was his life duty to—as if it was his job. Without hesitation, you forcefully shoved his fingers inside; his breathing began to increase as he dragged his fingers along your wet folds. 
“Holy fuck, you’re soaking wet princess. I’m not even kidding babe, you’re like the Pacific Ocean. All because I’m sucking on your titties? God y/n, where the hell did you come from? You’re otherworldly.” 
To your dismay, he pulled his fingers away before genuinely doing anything, but he was quick to put his fingers in to his mouth and sucked on your essence. The sight alone sent chills down your spine—it was so fucking hot. He was so fucking hot and you needed him to speed up the process or else you would actually cry from sexual frustration. 
“Just as I expected; you taste delicious. So sweet. Mind if I get a taste straight from the source?” Once he received your nod of approval, he kissed you a few times—smiling against your lips as he began to cup your sex through the flimsy cotton. 
“Promise me you’ll be vocal about what feels good and what doesn’t. If you need me to stop—if it gets too much, I’ll try to pull away, but I can’t promise you anything. You taste too good.” 
Before you knew it, he started to make his way down your body. He ran his hands along your sides while leaving kisses down your neck—your collarbones, kissing both breasts, gripping your hips while placing kisses down your stomach. Once his face was right above your naval, he left a chaste kiss on your belly button causing you to giggle at the tickling sensation—but the laughter didn’t last long. 
He put both of his hands on either of your knees and pried your legs open; giving him better access to your entrance. Knowing that his face was just meters away from your core sent you in to a frenzy. This was something from your wildest dreams; you knew that the two of you would become intimate sooner or later, but seeing him in between your thighs made you lightheaded. 
Mark wasted no time in nibbling on your soft skin—he bit on your underwear and pulled it down to your legs, completely ridding you of your final piece of clothing. You were grateful that you picked the right kind of panties to wear tonight; although you were sure Mark wouldn’t have cared at all if you decided to wear boy shorts or granny panties. 
Since you were in a position where you weren’t able to see him, you soon grew insecure at the idea of being completely bare in front of him. All you wanted was to be enough for your boyfriend; he was nothing short of perfect and you desired to be exactly that for him. It’s what he deserved. 
Seeing as how you lacked self-confidence, you brought your hands up to your eyes to prevent yourself from seeing his reaction of seeing you completely naked. Mark was a very kind person towards you; especially because he was your boyfriend, so you knew that there was a chance he would lie or not tell you the complete truth in order to save your feelings. 
You were afraid that he might have been with girls who had nicer bodies than you—skinnier, smaller and more petite frames with tiny waists, big breasts and a round, plump ass. You’d rather him be honest with you, but even if he just so happened to find flaws on your body, you were well aware that he wouldn’t admit it. That’s just who he was; Mark hated hurting people’s feelings, even if they deserved to know the truth. Just because you were his girlfriend wouldn’t change the fact that he was always looking out to protect people and prevent them from feeling bad about themselves. 
“Nope—we’re not having any of that.” He reached up to pull your hands away from your face and gave you a scowl. “You—are so breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t even fathom your beauty in to words. I could write a novel about your gorgeous features—how did I get so damn lucky? Your body; fuck—your body is a damn wonderland y/n and I can’t wait to explore it. You have such a pretty cunt and I’m so excited to fuck it. Listen to me baby—you are the most beautiful girl on this hell forsaken earth you hear me? By the end of the night, I will make sure you know how much of a goddess you are.” 
He blew warm air against your cunt—immediately sending shivers down your spine. Finally, after what felt like hours waiting for him touch you—to actually touch you, he licked a long strip along your folds and you let out a loud whimper.
“Fuck!”
“You like that?” 
You nodded so quickly—not caring how straight forward your response was. He began to lick and suck along your folds—his hands made their way up to your ass cheeks and squeezed both as he went to work; nibbling and sucking on your pussy. His teeth grazed against your overly sensitive nub and you found yourself pulling on the bedsheets—needing to grip at anything other than his hair because you knew if you were to tug on his locks while he was sucking you dry—he’d probably be bald by the end of the night.
“Fuck—Mark! Ah—there, right there—oh—“ 
With every hum and moan against your core, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your end. You believed that you were close to orgasming; there was an unfamiliar burning sensation in your stomach and you knew that Mark was going to do whatever he could to lessen the tension. Your moans only grew louder the longer his mouth stayed on your cunt; his wet muscle continued to lap up your juices. To your delight, he brought his index and middle finger up to your entrance and didn’t give you any time to prepare before he shoved both digits inside of you. 
“Oh my God—Mark! That feels—so, so good!” 
You couldn’t even describe the euphoria you were feeling as his tongue licked and slurped against your clit while he began pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your heart felt as if it was about to leap out of your chest; he was taking your breath away and you were sure with how many times you were chanting his name that you were going to lose your voice before the night ends. When you felt him curl both fingers inside of you, you yelped in shock. 
He was reaching deeper—you weren’t sure just how far into your cunt that his fingers could go, but he began to graze along an area that was soon causing your knees to buckle and your thighs to shake. 
“Mark—Mark—oh—baby—“
“That’s your g-spot if you didn’t already know. I plan on keeping that in mind. Feels good doesn’t it?”
“Mmm—yeah—please, go faster.” 
He giggled against your folds and placed a sloppy kiss against your labia all the while adding in another finger inside. You could feel tears brimming at your eyelids, but it was only because he was bringing you so much pleasure. You absentmindedly lowered your hand down to his face and cupped his cheek; he might have said his main purpose was to please you, but you were hoping that he was receiving the same amount of ecstasy that he was giving to you. His movements picked up—switching between his lips, tongue and fingers. He even playfully slapped your pussy in the hopes of getting a rise out of you and instead of growing irritated, you were sure he brought you closer to your end. 
“Close baby?”
“Yes—God yes. Your tongue—your fingers—I can’t hold it in anymore—“
“You don’t have to. Let go for me.” 
The last sentence came out as a command; his voice was low and raspy which caused you to do exactly as you were told. Your head felt as if it was about to blow up. Everything was spinning; you began to see white and the tightness in your stomach was no longer there. It felt like a wave crashed upon you and filled up your lungs; taking your breath away completely. Mark didn’t stop his licking—he continued to suck up your juices entirely. 
He drank from your cunt like you were a well and he was dying of thirst. Once your boyfriend decided that he rid you completely of your release, he pulled his fingers out of the depths of your silky walls and made his way back up to you. The sight of your fucked out state made him chuckle—your chest was rapidly rising, some of your hair was stuck to your forehead and your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 
In that moment—seeing you look as if the wind was completely swept out of you, he knew this was when you looked the most ethereal. The kiss against your forehead was delicate; featherlight. Nothing compared to the rough and impatient ones he left on your core just a few moments ago. When he brought his fingers up to your lips, you saw the white liquid running along both his index and his ring fingers and internally groaned. 
“I want you to taste yourself. Say ah.” 
You stuck out your tongue and allowed him to insert his digits inside of your mouth; you made sure to make direct eye contact as you sucked on his fingers just like you previously did with his length. You swirled your tongue around both of them, making sure to press your wet muscle before allowing him to pull them out. His brows were furrowed while he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. He was obviously extremely turned on by your ministrations and soon, his lips were back on yours. 
His hands immediately cupped both your cheeks as he put in as much energy in to the kiss that he could muster. With the way he was kissing you—like he would die if he were to take his lips away from yours, you were growing impatient with wanting to finally have him fill you up. 
Having his naked body pressed up against yours, feeling his cock graze against your entrance, having your breasts pressed up firmly against his chest—everything was getting too much for you. There were so many emotions running through you; you were never going to get enough of having Mark like this. 
“How was it y/n? I mean—I’m assuming you were having a great time. You absentmindedly began to wrap your legs around my head and I did grow a little lightheaded but—“
“Oh my God Mark, why didn’t you say anything?! I’m so sorry—“
He let out a soft snicker against your neck and placed a kiss there while making his way back up to you. “Don’t apologize, it was fucking sexy as hell. You’re like my own personal ear muffs. Being suffocated by these thick thighs of yours would be an ideal way to go if you ask me.” 
You both erupted in laughter at his silly comment and you enjoyed the playful banter going on between the two of you. Was it normal to joke around during a time of lust and erotica? It didn’t matter—everything that happened tonight would be forever imprinted in to your heart. The events that happened so far were just as touching and heartwarming as they were sexual. 
“You’re such a dumbass you know that? But yes, I had a wonderful time. Thank you baby. That was—wow—more than I could ever imagine. Fuck, that felt heavenly. I really liked that; more than I’d want to admit. Your lips and your tongue are now my favorite body parts on you.”
“Oh, really? I’ll keep that in mind for future reference. I enjoyed that just as much as you did. I’m not kidding, you taste marvelous. I could spend the entire rest of tonight with my head in between your thighs—but I think it’s time you and I finally um—you know—“
“Fuck?”
“Jeez y/n, could you be any less romantic?”
 He squeezed your ass and slapped both of your both of your cheeks. However, he was quick to change his demeanor from naughty to gentle and soft. His eyes softened and he brought some of your hair behind your ear; letting his fingers glide along your neck and collarbones. The glint in his eyes made your heart swell up—any nerves that you had before going in to it were completely gone now. All you could think about was giving yourself completely to the love of your life. 
“Babe.”
“Yeah?”
“Take me already. I’m yours.” 
He gave you a soft smile and brought his bottom lip in between his teeth; he took his index finger and began to trace your features—starting with both your brows, then taking it along your nose to just above your Cupid’s bow. His ran his thumb along your top lip and you placed a sweet kiss on the back of it. 
“Say it again.”
“Huh?”
“I’m yours. I want you to say it again.” If you were to take a look at yourself right now, you were sure your cheeks would be flushed—you were now shy for the first time tonight. 
“Mark Tuan—I’m yours. Forever.” 
He clenched his jaw—your words obviously had some kind of affect on him. To your confusion, he got off of you and leaped over to his drawer; rummaging through clothes and underwear. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting for him to find whatever it was that he looked for, he released a sigh of relief and briskly made his way back over to you. 
The tin foil packet was held in between his fingers and he waved it around like some kind of trophy. Only then did it really occur to you that you were going to lose your virginity—and to the man who your entire life revolved around. It was a bittersweet feeling; but you were more than happy to eventually be able to experience having your way with one another. He tore open the wrapper and placed the condom on his dick—crawling over to you and hovering over your lap. He gently took your chin in between his fingers and lifted your face so that you were looking up at him. 
“I’m sorry if it hurts okay? It might feel uncomfortable and maybe even painful at first. I want you to tell me if you need me to stop or to slow down. I’ll try not to go too hard since it is your first time, but if you were already so tight around my fingers, I can only imagine you’re going to clench around me with your pussy in the most delicious way. You trust me right?” 
You nodded—not missing a beat while giving him an exhausted smile. It wasn’t even up for debate, you trusted Mark with your entire being. He was the only person you would confess every single thing to. Whenever you had good news, he was the first person you wanted to tell and whenever your day wasn’t all that great, you wanted to find solace in him and he wrapped up in his embrace. When you nonverbally gave him your permission to take the lead, he lined himself at your entrance and tapped his cock against your folds; running it back and forth along your labia in order to collect some of your juices. 
“Remember, I don’t move unless you say I can.” 
He lowered himself and placed his lips against yours; you assumed it was his way of taking your mind off of the stretch that was about to come. As soon as Mark entered himself inside of you, you couldn’t help but let out a whimper. It wasn’t all that painful, but it was uncomfortable. Obviously, you weren’t used to being filled like this; something about the way his cock felt against your walls ignited a tingling sensation to your core. Your boyfriend moaned against your mouth and tightened his grip on your hip bones. “
Fuck—you’re so tight. Shit; I’m not even exaggerating—“
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes. God yes. You feel glorious. But are you okay? It doesn’t hurt too much does it?” 
You shook your head in disagreement. No matter how uncomfortable you were, it was adamant that your boyfriend was trying his best not to lose his shit. You were going to suck it up and take him like a big girl; you were well aware that the pain would soon be replaced with pleasure  once he began to pick up the pace. 
“Mark, you can move. I’m okay.” 
His eyes seemingly rolled to the back of his head after hearing you give him permission to move and he didn’t even take a second to process that information, he began to ram himself slowly inside of you. He pulled his cock out of you before pounding his length back inside of your cunt all but gently. His pelvis hit your ass with each and every thrust and just as you expected it, you were now moaning in pleasure from the feeling of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your cervix. 
The two of you moaned in unison each time he bottomed in and out of you. He rotated between stealing chaste kisses from you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and groaning against your jaw and sucking on both of your breasts; biting on your nipples whenever he thrusted himself a little too roughly. 
“F—fuck—feels so—“
“I know—shit—you’re so fucking wet y/n—“
His pace grew quicker to the point where he was practically railing you—the sound of skin smacking and clapping against each other alongside of both his and your moans and curses bounced off of his walls. You weren’t sure whether or not he was aware that he was leaving bruises on your skin, but you didn’t care—your mind was solely focused on him and only him. Everything else was just going to have to with till the morning. He pulled his hands away from your waist and brought them up to your breasts, pushing them up and down as he mirrored his movements inside of your warm cavern. 
“You look so beautiful right now I don’t think there are enough words in the English dictionary to even describe just how gorgeous you are. I can’t believe you’re all mine.” 
He lifted one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder; you weren’t sure exactly what he was doing until he pushed his dick back into your folds and began to reach deeper and further in to your pussy. “H-holy shit Mark—“ His girth continuously grazed against your clit; the way his hands were roaming all throughout your body, you had a feeling he couldn’t keep his hands in one place. 
Sweat was dripping down the both of you; when he lifted your other leg on top of his shoulder, you immediately clenched around him. The sensation was driving you literally insane. He was right; now that he had an idea of what made you squirm and scream, you could tell that he was going to use it against you. 
“Fuck, did you just get tighter? Stop that—please, I know I’m minutes away from coming and I don’t want to cum just yet. I really didn’t want to tease you tonight, but I will teach you a lesson if I have to. Don’t test me y/n. Come on, you’ve been such a good girl this entire night baby. We can experiment more next time, but for now, I just want to make love to my pretty girl.” 
It was tempting; if he was going to mess around with you by constantly trying to reach for your g-spot, you wanted to show him the same amount of teasing by clenching around him. You also wanted to see just how animalistic your boyfriend could get and you wanted him to go rough on you—but you didn’t want to have to beg him to do something, anything to help you reach your release. You wanted to experience coming with him—you were already so close to your second coming. 
Mark was a man of actions rather than of talking, so you trusted the fact that he would punish you if you did continue to go against his wishes. Although you were well aware now that you’ve finally had him inside of you, having sex would be a frequent activity—you felt yourself smiling like an idiot hearing him make plans for the next time you’d tumble in to bed together. 
After a few moments, you felt your legs giving in—probably because of how sore your inner thighs were now that he kept burying himself in between them at a mind blowing pace. He fucked you like he had vengeance on you—his cock filled you to the hilt. Slowly, he brought your legs off of him and got closer to you; he intertwined your hands together and placed them on either side of your head.
He continued to pump himself inside of you—constant moans continued to fall from your lips. You were completely speechless; his name fell off of your lips like a mantra. He kissed you hard; his pink lips were swollen and you were sure your lips looked similar if not the same. 
“Y/n.” 
You looked up at him and your breath hitched when you saw the way he was looking at you. His gaze was one that you didn’t recognize. His eyes were soft—he had a small smile that you wouldn’t have been able to distinguish if you didn’t see the glint in his eyes. You were about to question his sudden whisper of your name but he beat you to it. 
“I love you. God, do I love you. I love you so much baby. I love you, I love you, I love you. I don’t ever want to stop saying it.” 
With every thrust came a love confession and just hearing him admit those three magical words; the three words you’ve been yearning to hear for months—his words alone sent butterflies to your tummy and you weren’t even able to say it back to him before you felt yourself letting go and seeing stars for a second time. With a few more thrusts, you were soon being filled with his creamy, warm liquid and he flopped down on top of you while burying his face in between your breasts. 
You brought one hand in to his hair while dragging the other gently across of the expense of his back. The two of you laid there in silence; giving yourselves some time to both settle down from your breathtaking and extremely mind blowing orgasms. You were sure he could feel your heart racing against his chest; his was beating rapidly against yours. A huge grin rose on your face as you began to think about his love confession. 
He loved you. 
You didn’t care that it took him six months to admit his feelings for you, you were completely over the moon. You left a soft kiss right below his ear. 
“I love you too Mark and I’m in love with you. I have been for longer than I’d like to admit. I’ve been wanting to tell you for months, but I was afraid that it was too early to tell you and that you didn’t feel that way about me—“
“I’ve been in love with you since our second date y/n I’m not even joking. Don’t get me wrong, like I’ve mentioned multiple times tonight, you’re genuinely such a beautiful girl—you’re literally a sight for sore eyes. But everything about you is seemingly perfect. Your personality, your intelligence, your kindness, generosity and your heart. The way you dropped everything to run over to help that older lady carry her groceries to the bus stop and then the way you didn’t even hesitate to buy ice cream for that little girl who dropped hers at the play ground. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I need you to know that. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my entire world y/n. These last six months with you—getting to love you—kissing you, having late night conversations about the future with you, going on all these cute little dates with you, staying up till three in the morning to talk with you—I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I would go to the ends of this earth if it meant having you for the rest of my life in each and every lifetime.” 
Tears began to fall down your cheeks and you immediately pulled him in to another kiss; you didn’t think you were able to top his heartfelt speech nor did you want to. You could only hope your signs of affection would be enough to prove what your words weren’t able to. 
“Is sex everything you could hope it would be?”
“Yes. I um—I’m actually upset with myself for waiting this long. If I knew back then what I know now; if I knew how glorious making love to you would be then I would have let you take me right after our first date. You’re so good to me Mark. You’re the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. Thank you for that; and for every single thing that you do for me. Was I okay though? I know, you’ve probably been with partners who had more experience and were able to please you in better ways than I did, but I’m willing to learn whatever I need to in order to be good enough for you—“
You frowned when he roughly placed his hand over your mouth in attempts to silence you and licked his hand out of force of habit. “I never ever want to hear you say that you aren’t good enough for me or that you want to change your ways to be what you think I deserve. You are what I deserve; hell, if anything, I’m not good enough for you y/n. That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life and I mean it. I’m not just saying that to spare your feelings or to make you feel better about the situation. You are the only person I’ve ever been in love with. You’re the only person I am ever going to love. What we had wasn’t sex—we made love. You were perfect baby. You made sure to take care of me and made tonight about us—even if I really wanted to focus specifically on you. Did I not praise you enough for the mindblowing blowjob you gave me? Where did you even learn how to do that? That was—I’m speechless. You took my breath away at least five times tonight and now you’re doing it for a sixth time just looking the way you do right now. If you’re not tired, I’m hard again. I’m sure you can feel it. There are so many things I want to do to you and since the night is still young, maybe we can cross some of those things off of my list. I want you on all fours baby. I wanna see that ass clap for me.”
Your imagination Now I'm fixated And I'm dying to learn Every inch of you Therе's something new F'ing me up I'm what you deserve, just
Draw a map for me Laced with strawberries And I'll get on my knees
Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me how to love Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love
How to love How to love Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love
Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush
Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me how to love (please teach me how to love) Put my hands around you Ooh, teach me how to Touch you, tease, caress you, and please you Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love
How to love How to love Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love How to love How to love Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Babe, I won't stop 'til you feel the rush Teach me, teach me, teach me how to love
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chuckbass-love · 4 years ago
Note
Prompt: Teen Chris pregnancy scare evans fam included
Hi love, i’m sorry that you’ve waited so long for this and i also hope that it’s worth the wait...
Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.
A/N: This is set with Chris and Reader BOTH being 18. I also tried my hardest to make this angsty but come on, it’s Chris. No way would he be a dick about it, he’s definitely the type to reassure and make reader feel better. So it’s cute and fluffy instead. Please give feedback if you can, i’d love to hear everyones thoughts. 
Pairing: Young!Chris Evans x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Virginity loss, mentions of teen pregnancy and a sprinkle of fluff. No real warnings i guess.
Word Count: 1,703
GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @forchrisevans go check them out❤️
Almost
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When you first started dating, Chris was very much the one to initiate going steady and waiting for sex. He never wanted you to feel pressure to put out for him and since he was a virgin too, you agreed to wait together. Until you felt certain that the time was right.
And now here you are, 18 years old. Making out with your boyfriend of almost 2 years in his bedroom, door open of course. Lisa was very calm and relaxed with you being here but she wanted to be able to monitor the situation.
Without saying another word, the make out session came to an abrupt end once he’d laid you down on his bed.
“Can you just excuse me for a second?” he asks, cheeks flushed and hands shaky. You nod your head in agreement and soon enough he shoots out of the door, footsteps loud as he rushes down the stairs.
But what you don’t know is he’s actually about to ask his mom if the door can be closed, just this once.
“Why honey?” she plays dumb but secretly she knows. He’s 18, a grown up technically and it’s time. Clearly.
“Mom, me and Y/N are... you know?” he nods his head towards the stair case as he speaks, hoping she’ll catch on which of course she does.
“I see, do you have protection?” 
If his cheeks weren’t the perfect shade of pink before, they certainly are now. All thanks to mother.
“Mom” he hisses in embarrassment.
“Son, i want you to know that this is nothing to be ashamed of, everyone experiences this” 
“I have protection” his confirmation is enough for her to give him a reassuring smile and a nod before he walks away, heading back up where you are. He shuts the door behind him and you can’t help but furrow your brows.
“What are you doing?” you ask with your lips curling up into a smile but he just turns to face you, making his way to the bed and kneeling between your now open legs.
A couple of kisses are pressed to the back of your hands before he lowers his head to kiss your stomach whilst looking up at you with of pure adoration in his eyes.
And in this moment, you truly feel like the luckiest girl alive. Being loved by him is like being stuck in a constant free fall, every day is like living in heaven and every moment too (even the bad ones).
It’s strange how you’ve managed to find your soul mate at such a young age but you know that you’re glad it’s happened because being with him is what true happiness is.
Once his face is inches from yours, you pull him closer, attacking his lips with pure hunger and passion “i want you now” you whisper softly but his silence soon takes away from how you’re feeling. 
Does he not want this?
“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice laced with worry and confusion.
“Nothing, it’s just I want you too but i want you to be sure that you want this. Because you know we don’t have to do-”
“Chris, i want this. I want you” you cup his face, either side, forehead pressed to his.  
You both sit up and start to undress, your eyes meeting occasionally. The little giggle that leaves your mouth as he gets on top of you has him melting inside, you’re everything to him.
The two of you put the condom on together being as his hands are quite shaky and once it’s on, your eyes meet “you ready?” 
“I’m ready”
----------------------------------
It’s been a week since you and Chris had sex and you gotta say, you feel like it’s strengthened you as a couple. You feel different, almost as if you’re glowing and you see a change in him too. 
But the only downside to your joy, sickness. You’ve been feeling very nauseous although you keep brushing it off as you seriously doubt it’s anything serious.
----------------------------------
It’s been two weeks since you started feeling nauseous and now you’ve lost count how many times you’ve been sick, you informed Chris about it but the two of you soon put any worries to bed. You used protection and besides you’re on the pill. It’s not pregnancy, it can’t be.
That didn’t stop you getting a test though. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
As soon as you informed Chris of your purchase, he rushed over to your place instantly, saying how he refuses to let you do this alone and if you need peace of mind then who is he to stop you?
You do the test and then join him on the bed to wait for the results.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth to kiss. 
“I’m okay. Are you?” lies. All lies. You’re petrified, so much so that you can feel the tears on the edge of falling from your drowned eyes.
“Well you know, it isn’t exactly how i imagined the after math of losing my virginity to look like but i’m good. Whatever happens now, we’ll face it together” despite Chris saying all of this, he’s even beginning to feel terrified. At first he thought it was just for your peace of mine but now it’s for his too.
“Is it time yet?” you nudge him, looking towards his watch for him to check and the second he nods, you feel your stomach drop with dread and fear.
You don’t want to be a teen mom, you’re not ready for it. 
1) You’re too immature for it
2) You can’t see kids being on your agenda for at least a good 7/8 years, you have big dreams of college and then eventually a career in fashion and design. How will that happen if you have a kid?
Okay, enough panicking. Time to see the results.
You turn the stick over to see it’s negative and the deep breath you both let out, one of relief, that’s for sure.
“Oh thank god”
The way you practically jump into his arms out of pure happiness and joy for the results has him laughing way too loud, thankfully you love his loud laugh and you can’t wait for many more years to come listening to it. Many more years of sex that’s not stressful, sex where you’ll both be extra careful, every single time.
“Now what?” you look up at him as you start getting ready to go to his place for the night. Not your first time staying since Lisa adores you but for some reason you’re nervous this time around. Maybe because you just had a pregnancy scare with her son. You hope she doesn’t yell at you both.
“My place?”
“Of course”
Once you’re ready to stay the night, you head to his house, entering with a heart beat that you’re certain can be heard by everyone that comes near you.
“Ma” he yells out, shutting the door behind you and poking his head into the lounge but of course, his mom can always be found in the kitchen. She’s a dynamite cook so it makes sense.
“Kitchen” 
He takes your hand, leading the way and before you know it, you’re face to face. Lisa goes in for a hug, squeezing you tight and pretty much complimenting everything about you before reprimanding Chris for not complimenting you. See, she really does adore you.
“Ma, we have something to talk to you about” he says through gritted teeth, she’s going to kill him. Maybe she’ll kill you too, who knows at this point. It’s anybody’s guess.
“What is it son?” confusion all over her face as she takes a seat opposite you at the dining table.
“Well, as you know. Me and Y/N have recently had sex” he starts, noticing how formal he’s speaking and you can’t help but cringe at the word sex. If that doesn’t scream immature then what does? “So Y/N was feeling very nauseous recently and-” before he can even finish, Lisa stands up. 
“I swear Christopher Robert Evans if she is pregnant” she walks round to your side of the table, raising her hand to smack him on the back of his head but he soon stops it.
“Ma, relax, relax. The test was negative” he holds his hands up in surrender to avoid an ass whooping most likely.
“How careful are you both when having sex?”
Again, you cringe before clearing your throat to speak “we used a condom plus i’m on birth control” 
She sighs “make sure you’re being extra careful every time guys. I don’t want to sound like a broken record but i can’t stress enough how much responsibility being a parent involves. And to do it young, it takes a lot out of you”
She’s right, you two clearly weren’t careful enough. This is definitely a lesson learned.
“Doesn’t mean i’m gonna quit bothering you though. You need to be safe during sex”
“Okay, ma, i know”
“Clearly not or you wouldn’t have had this scare”
“I’m sure your mom is just concerned, that’s all” you assure him and he turns to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead before your cheek and then your lips.
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“Now that we’ve got that lecture over with, how does, chicken and vegetables sound for dinner?”
“Sounds amazing Lisa” you give her a hug before rolling up your sleeves and helping her with the rest of the prep, all while Chris unloads your stuff into his room for tonight.
------------------------------
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Feedback is welcome and encourage...
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stupid-stew · 4 years ago
Text
character names keep me alive, toh is my lifeblood.
i am literally obsessed and this show really does provide (i still have to add more smh my head dana terrace why do you do this to me jk i love it so much please never stop) COPY AND PASTED FROM DOC UNDER BREAK
NAMES INCLUDED:
FIRST NAME
LILITH
EDA
LUZ
KING
WILLOW
GUS
ASSORTED BLIGHTS
LAST NAME
BLIGHT
CLAWTHORNE
NOCEDA
PORTER
PARK
BUMP
MISCELLANEOUS
BELOS
HIERONYMUS AND BOSCHA
ADEGAST
HOOTY
OWLBERT
KIKIMORA
GWENDOLYN
RAYNE
NOTE EVERYTHING BEFORE GWENDOLYN AS OF 6/24/21 WRITTEN WITHOUT SEASON 2 KNOWLEDGE, TO BE REVISED, REVISIONS IN BOLD!
Hello and welcome to the ramblings of a mad man. Before we get into it I think you should note that I do write like I talk because I think like a talk and I write how I think, so if you are confused as to why it sounds like i’m not making sense its because I'm not making sense also my capitalization and punctuation suck so sorry about that but we don’t have time for technicalities in this house. TO ADVENTURE!
FIRST NAME
LILITH
EDA
LUZ
KING
WILLOW
GUS
ASSORTED BLIGHTS
LAST NAME
BLIGHT
CLAWTHORNE
NOCEDA
PORTER
PARK
BUMP
MISCELLANEOUS
BELOS
HIERONYMUS AND BOSCHA
ADEGAST
HOOTY
OWLBERT
KIKIMORA
GWENDOLYN
RAYNE
GILBERT
FIRST NAME
LILITH
Ok so because I'm lilith’s bitch we are gonna start with her because her name is so cool and I love her and we should be besties Lilith hmu. Anyways as most people know Lilith is a pre existing mythological character which makes this very much good because that means it’s all outlined. Most people know her as a demonic figure, which I very much dig but similar to our lovely queen of curses out here, that's not all she is. There isn’t going to be a chronological explanation of similarities and conclusions, cope. The basic gist is that Lilith was this chick with fiery red hair (this is important iykyk) who refused to be beneath or below adam, more specifically to subjugate to him, funny because of the tapestry with belos what says subjugation on it, probably a coincidence but I do not believe in coincidence right now. Anyways basically she runs off and becomes this chick who like snatches children and will make them sick if they don’t have an amulet with the names Senoy, Sansenoy, or Semangelof on them, thats a different story but what I find interesting is this one passage,
“(12) Her nobles shall be no more, nor shall kings be proclaimed there; all her princes are gone. (13) Her castles shall be overgrown with thorns, her fortresses with thistles and briers. She shall become an abode for jackals and a haunt for ostriches. (14) Wildcats shall meet with desert beasts, satyrs shall call to one another; There shall the Lilith repose, and find for herself a place to rest. (15) There the hoot owl shall nest and lay eggs, hatch them out and gather them in her shadow; There shall the kites assemble, none shall be missing its mate. (16) Look in the book of the LORD and read: No one of these shall be lacking, For the mouth of the LORD has ordered it, and His spirit shall gather them there. (17) It is He who casts the lot for them, and with His hands He marks off their shares of her; They shall possess her forever, and dwell there from generation to generation.”
And there are separate part of this that I find relevant, especially the description of the location, i’m not all that familiar with symbolism of animals in religious texts, so i’m gonna take it at face value and say that this is more or less a description that could be given to the physical owl house itself, sort of a place for people who don’t fit in, its a little messy and I guess one could say overgrown, but it’s a place for anyone, a place to rest now hopefully for Lilith away from the coven, there shall the Lilith repose. On top of that we see the “the hoot owl…” and you’re probably thinking what that so crazy wacko because like why are they referring to Lilith as the hoot owl isn't Eda the owl lady, yes she is. That’s why the actual meanings of lilith’s name that come from her mythological depiction as a demon lady are so important. We have night monster, night owl, night spectre, vampires, night hag, night creature, nightjar (which is another kind of bird), and night bird, all of these seem to fit lilith’s dark aesthetic very nicely which is very good for her, but there are two other ones, hot owl and screech owl, which draw her closer to Edaand away from the coven and her depiction in the mid-later episodes of the show as a monster for cursing eda, but also the name night monster could come into play if while sharing the curse Lilith acquired some of its traits, similar to Ed aas the owl beast. Ultimately, we have this little red head girl who eventually fights back against the men who are attempting to get her to be under them, for the character that is belos, for the other Lilith that is adam, god, and his angels, and now hopefully both of them will find solace and repose among the owls in a place they never thought they’d belong. All this talk of owls and god brings us into the other clawthorne baddie:
Lilith did find her repose! I love her staying in the owl house, get it queen oh yuh.
EDA
For this I'm going to use her full name edalyn, because you know like that’s just how it be it is her name. There isn’t a wiki page for her name like there is for Lilith which makes this a little bit harder but the general consensus seems to be that it means something along the lines of “gift of god”, which I find very interesting. If you are going to name a child gift of god i’m assuming that you are referring to the child themselves, but I don’t think that really applies to eda. I’m not religious, but its my impression that someone who lies, cheats, pranks, and steals their way to the top and isn’t exactly the most responsible witch on the isles and might not be the best gift god could give. I do really love Eda though, her character flaws are still a part of her character, but I think this refers to her powers. Eda considers herself to be the boiling isles gift to magic, which I mean like, have you seen the woman. In agony of a witch we see her at what probably 30% of her power with how much the curse was already tolling on her and how much magic she was probably using to fight it off, and like goddamn. She was almost beating lilith, definitely beating the shit out of her, but she was almost defeating Lilith who was at her full power, and that is just a fraction of what she used to be able to do. Her powers were a gift of god, and I think that the loss of them will greatly affect her. She’s already admitted that she doesn’t know how to do much without her magic, and I think going straight from the second most powerful witch on this isles to having no power at all is going to be incredibly taxing on her, physically and mentally.
Luckily for her the name edalyn also means patience, another thing about her name is that it not only means gift of god, but also similar things like gifted by the gods or even goddess, and this draws a connection to Lilith who is named after a demonic figure, casted out for having defied god, they are quite literally polar opposites on the name spectrum, and we see that a lot in the show, they are completely different people, I mean have you looked at them they don’t even look related, but the funnier thing is that their personalities do the same thing. You’d expect Edain her youth to be a gift from the devil, just ask principal bump, and Lilith seemed to be a goody two shoes who worked her ass off, their names could be switched based off their characters alone.
A random baby name site I found said that :
“Persons with the name edalyn are usually highly flexible and well equipped to making and accepting change throughout their life. They always seek excitement and are sometimes a bit of a risk taker. They are imaginative, and often, through their unconventional way of thinking, are naturally able to solve complex problems with ease. They are quick thinkers and observers who are clever, analytical and versatile”
Which I mean like very much applies to eda, she takes change like a champ, either genuinely or by pretending she’s ok with everything, and is always seeking excitement. Like literally all of the time. Always. I think she takes felonies as a compliment, and one of the biggest changes in her life that she genuinely was able to adapt to and appreciate was
OH MY GOD HER LEARNING THE NEW GLYPHS WAS SO CUUUUTTTEEE, I love her being able to adapt, she really is doing well. As the beginning of separate tides shows, she’s working around it, and is doing a damn good job, living up to her name.
LUZ
Ok I think at this point everyone knows that at this point the name Luz means light, and if you didn't, oopsies now you do. The character Luz was named and designed after a real life person the miss dana terrace knew at the time she was starting to really think about the show, Luz ’s personalty comes more from dana herself and we love that, but the character has really started to grow into her name. This is made most obvious when the first spell Luz learns is the light glyph, not only coming into her own as a witch, but also starting to live up to her name, which along with light also has to do with “Our Lady of Light”, which is the virgin mary, fitting her right in with the other biblical names we got going on here. I really want to stress that I know next to zero about religion, and all of the connections I am making come from wikipedia, so bare with me here. But most of the time mary seems to be this pure, saint like figure, which I think is what a lot of people see Luz as, especially on the isles. I’m going to flat out say that this is in no way meant to pass off Luz as simple minded, pure, or oblivious, because we have seen what that girl is willing to do, she faced death and poked him in the with an ice cicle. In terms of life on the isles, however, she is more or less pure and sheltered, she’s completely new to the world she’s in, but she does quickly adapt, and shows more of her strong side, and remains a good person throughout all of it, taking losses as they come, and not letting them remain losses at the same time.
Back to the whole light thing, we already touched on the whole literal bit of her and the light spell, but can you think of a better way to describe Luz ? She literally brings light everywhere she goes, even Eda admits that she’s changed things for the better, for everyone around her too. Willow got a new friend, probably the first friend she’s had in a long time, and even got to begin repairing her relationship with amity, and got placed in the plant track so she could do the things she loves, all because of Luz . Edagot to grow as a person and a mentor, and finally got someone willing to accept all her eda-ness, unconditionally, someone to really care about that really cares about her back, all because of Luz . Amity got a friend who cares about her, not just her family name and money, someone who supports her and will do anything for her because she is her friend, and a bit of self discovery along the way for amity, all because of Luz . Not a single person on the isles who has had more than 2 minutes of interaction with Luz hasn’t had their lives improved, even belos got his portal, and the thing is that even characters who people might not even consider changed have been, characters such as
Luz my beloved, she seems a little bit less of a light this season, and i do mean little. That’s totally fine though, it’s expected, i didn’t want her to just be this bright shining star after the events of the last two episodes of season 1, and appreciate her going and starting to take the fantasy of the isles with more than just a grain of salt. Obviously like in escaping expulsion, she’s still trying her best to make everything better and make friends with everyone, but there’s something a little different about it and i’m here for it tbh.
KING
The name king itself is obvious, he is royalty, the king of demoNS HIMSELF ASMODEUS hahahaha pulled a sneaky on you now accept my ideas as your own. I am on a mythological name kick, deal with it. The most important thing here is in the bible, asmodeus poses himself as a false god, which I know is something we have all considered with king, that he might be a full on liar, not be a king of anything and is just your ordinary street demon, it’s even come up in the show with him calling himself the king of artists and Luz asking him if he was just making it up at this point. It’s a good theory, I can see it, and this could be used as proof. There is also another legend that paints him as a good natured dude, who eventually banishes the king by literally throwing him, and then he loses his powers and is banished, but this is also the same legend where he marries Lilith and that is not something I am down for. There is another text in which he tells the king (the same one he threw in the other one) that his kingdom will one day be divided and the king does not believe him, and this is the same text where he admits to hating water and birds because they remind him of god. Lets think class, who has the god name and is related to birds here? King’s name by itself holds true to his character, who (regardless of if it is truthful or not) holds himself as if he is a king, and he isn't the only one with a name like that, there is also
WILLOW
Ok I know we all thought it, willow, the plant girl, how fiendishly clever. This also happens to be the only descriptor for her name I could find, which is totally fine because I think it’s a very cute name and willow is also very cute. This means we get to go into the symbolism of the willow tree wwwooooOOOOO aren’t you so very excited I know I am. Its kind of interesting, willow trees seem to match the character, understanding, warm, a safe space really, but most of all the ability to let go of pain and suffering, sometimes outright ignore it, and move on. Willow does always say out of sight out of mind does she not? She is willing to ignore, even excuse people bullying her, be it bosha or even amity, and the moment she got the chance her inner willow decided to try and literally burn the painful memories she had, willing to cause damage just to forget. Willow as a character is very willing to move on like nothing happened most of the time, key word most because another thing about willows is the ability to grow from the pain. Before understanding willow, we never really saw willow stand up for herself until she really had to, but hy the end of the episode she is willing to tell amity that she isn’t willing to fully forgive her, but she’s willing to grow and try. Heck, we see this over the entire first season, we see this little girl who can barely pull it together long enough to stand up for herself grow into this amazing character willing to publicly oppose the emperor and break into his castle for her friend, she tried to full out attack Lilith when 19 episodes earlier she wasn’t able to stand up to amity for bullying her. And I am in no way calling willow weak, she never was, she just needed to find the ability to show everyone that she’s strong, god I love willow so much, you wanna know who else loves willow?
GUS
Gus, my main man, love you but for this we are gonna have to use the full on augustus sorry babes. The name augustus means majestic, or venerable, which while I must say that the illusion of kiki doing the worm was probably one of the most majestic things I have ever seen, I’m going to focus on venerable a bit more here. Venerable is a big word, it means “accorded a great deal of respect, especially because of age, wisdom, or character.”, which for gus the age part might play a smaller part here, but he is good as what he does, Luz and willow both respect him, Eda Respects him, he’s this little dude who is younger than everyone and has to rely on his ability to succeed, not only with his power but with his personality. Gus seems to be confident in himself, communicating with everyone regardless of who they are or what power they hold, similarly to willow he was willing to do anything to help Luz , leading into the second description of venerable, “heroic in nature”. Now, you might be wondering, bestie where ever did you get that description, it totally wasn’t from a religious page okyesitwas but that's fine because being pronounced venerable guarantees a spot in heaven so get it bestie. Overall, the general meaning for augustus is that they are strong, respectable, and powerful, which takes us right into the
Gus, shawty, ily but please stop the obsession with death babes ur starting to scare me. I hope with the upcoming Gus content in TTLGR we will see more of him growing into his powers and such.
ASSORTED BLIGHTS
The blight first names bring me joy so I am putting amity last because I think its really funny, starting off with alador, the name alador evokes diplomacy, correctness, and confidence. We know zilch about alador, but if the vibes of the blight family have anything to say it’s definitely something along those lines. The name odalia means wealth, which I mean like have you seeeen blight manor? Also back at it again with the fact that it’s a variant of the name odilia, like the saint olilia which I don't have ties for you right now because again, we know nothing about her. Edric also means wealth, fortune, riches, powerful, you get the vibes, same thing with emira which means commander, or prince, princess, leader, or star. So you know like we have all these super powerful names happening, and then, oh boy and then we get to little miss perfect herself, amity blight. It means friendship, or harmony. If I was her I would be so mad at my parents like yall have these mad powerful names and I got stuck with friendship? Hand me the emancipation papers. You know what they say, friendship is the real magic (even if no longer taught in schools due to budget constraints). I hope that this leads more into season 2 with amity working on her friendships and ultimately her relationships in general, which we got a bit of already with her working on repairing her relationship with willow, and making the moves to cut off old toxic friendships and moving into more genuine ones with willow, Luz , and gus. I guess you could say that the only thing ALL the blights have in common with each other is their
They are rich assholes, alador is a little wacko, odalia is hot asf dana seriously what the hell man that was out of pocket. The only thing about alador that lives up to his name is his money, odalia seems more obsessed with image and money, and i too am obsessed with her image literally boy what the hell boy.
LAST NAME
BLIGHT
The word blight by itself means a plant disease which boy oh boy can you believe how nicely that fits into amity bullying willow because I sure can. Outside of just the plant bit it overall just means like something that damages another thing, and this works beautifully for each member of the family. The parents are damaging their children, the twins just causing general damage, and amity and her goddamn relationships, but fortunately that whole plant thing brings us into the next couple of last names
CLAWTHORNE
The last name clawthorne means “cold or exposed thorn tree” which had me kind of like what the heck so I went off and had some fun and got you some presents that I think are funny, so there was this guy right, his name was joseph clawthorne, and he created the term whiffenpoof, which is the name for a wildly fictitious animal, things like a jackalope, or even a griffin with spider breath, though I guess that would be the work of a
NOCEDA
Back again with the trees good lord, it means field of nut trees, so again I went into prominent people an found this guy named jorge noceda sanchez, he was a painter and some of his works are kinda baller actually it seems like something that would fit in on the isles, but also not all of the names have a deeper meanings, names like
PORTER
Ok I am like pretty sure this was just meant to be a play on the fact that gus’ dad’s name is perry and is a reporter, get it, perry porter, perry porter, reporter, but nonetheless I did some digging because why the heck not, it means doorkeeper, or gate keeper, someone who guards something like an important building, which honestly I think this would be a good last name for hooty if he ever gets one, but again not all of these are important names at the moment, or maybe they won't ever be at all, names like
PARK
At first I was kinda like l m a o willow park plant girl hahahahah plants in the park parks have trees willow is a tree but then I remembered that someone pointed out that park is a traditionally korean surname and then like a week later disney posted about it for aisian pacific american heritage month which kind of confirmed it, and I don’t know if the whole intention behind it was to establish willow as representation or not, but the surname park by itself means gourd and willow I am so sorry that is so unfortunate LMAOSIFN
BUMP
To be honest I was not expecting bump to have a last name that meant anything but it means swift walker and I think thats funny so you have to know it now
MISCELLANEOUS
BELOS
BIIIITCH LISTEN UPPPP there is a butt tone of mythology surrounding his name and its mostly a different form of it, belus, that is referenced, but same thing different shape. Most of his depiction is as a great king or ruler, in babylonian mythology being the equivalent of zeus of jupiter, which liiikkkkkeeeoajolnjojnkjakjavnjfvdfkjf but its fine everything is great its all ok most importantly, he is recognized as the god or ruler of war, and in that same mythology he lived in babylon, which “... was originally water, and called a sea. But Belus put an end to this, and assigned a district to each, and surrounded Babylon with a wall; and at the appointed time he disappeared.” and idk about you but the smell of him assigning a divide and disappearing smells sour like funky to me babes
HIERONYMUS AND BOSCHA
I am only putting this here because the fact that it’s totally a play on hieronymus bosch makes me cackle and you all have to know it thank you
ADEGAST
B-but brevyn he was only there for like one episode, yeah ok and? Radegast is the slavic god of hospitality, and there is no host like a host that pretends to take you on a mythical quest and then tries to eat you and your mentor and her deranged cat demon, ok? His name translates to “dear guest” or “welcomed guest” and I mean I think if my host tried to suck me into some fantasy would delusion i’d feel pretty welcomed
HOOTY
He is an owl
OWLBERT
He is also an owl
KIKIMORA
First and foremost, she is a little night gremlin who hates children and I think that really fits her, but she is also a little house demon, who is very difficult to get to leave, have we seen her outside the castle? Will she be a spy along with the mask next season? She also has a name that means nightmare or night demon, similar to a certain other night creature we might have heard of a while ago. She tried to strangle children and I love that for her,and she is described as a little old ugly messy haired lady and I feel like her current character has the personality of one so i’ll take it, but what really gets me is her villain origin story, which is that she "grows up with a magician in the mountains. From dawn to sunset the magician’s cat regales Kikimora with fantastic tales of ancient times and faraway places, as Kikimora rocks in a cradle made of crystal. It takes her seven years to reach maturity, by which time her head is no larger than a thimble and her body no wider than a strand of straw. Kikimora spins flax from dusk and to dawn, with evil intentions for the world.”
GWENDOLYN
Ok, the queen herself, haven’t met her yet but like who knows. Not really a whole lot here (my ears are ringing oops one sec ok i’m back hi) anyways um uh rings? Her name right off the bat has a lot to do with rings, and really that only applies to eda, because her ring was a big thing for her, she gave it to lilith, we all watched wing it like witches you know what’s up, but i mean like was that gwen’s ring? I really wanted the hand on eda’s wall to be gwen’s, very upset to see she has all of her body parts so far. I am also not sure if that’s how it’s spelled, but it means the same thing anyways. Also meaning fair or blessed, any woman who created both eda and lilith is probably mad powerful and we love to see it, also she’s a beastkeeper and i like i want to talk about that with eda’s curse but now is not the time for shenanigans (that’s a lie every time is the time for shenanigans i’m just exhausted)
RAYNE
Bitch, sorry, ok listen like um sidebar I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS CHARACTER AND YOU ALL NEED TO KNOW IT but also at this point i’m not really sure about this character, is this their name, is that even how it’s spelled, girl idfk but like whooptydooo I do what I want so cope. Right now, we are assuming that they are the new bard coven head character, and like let me tell you the way that I am fully pissing my pants atm like bestie, anyways, if spelled rayne, then it means counsel or song, and this is why, do you see why this is why we spell it like this? It’s also scandanavian which means like nothing but it’s cool. This spelling fits because like counsel, head of the bard coven, you get it it’s fine, and then song, also head of the bard coven, you know. It fits so well, especially since this is supposed to be a friend from eda’s past, and like is supposed to try and recruit eda for a rebellion against the emperor in the episode eda’s requiem, i cannot convey to you how goddamn excited I am like there are not enough words in this realm or any others to tell you how prepared i am for this character to rock my world.
GILBERT
I AM S O B B I N GGGGG apparently one of willow’s dad’s names is gilbert and that is literally so cute I cannot like actually this knowledge makes up for coronavirus anyways it means bright promise and idk what that even has to do with anything but I love it and you should to omg
Now i have to go update the other characters see you in hell <3
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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years ago
Text
Headache Relief
Summary: Alistair Shepard’s got one hell of a headache and the medicine ain’t helping. Lucky for him, he’s got another relief option. Problem is he didn’t expect to see Garrus Vakarian involved with that. Fuck, maybe he should’ve taken a double dose after all...
---
There were times Alistair was glad to be human. This wasn’t one of them.
“Fuck…”
The expletive leaked from between his teeth as he stepped off the elevator and into his private quarters. Right then he was running on instinct, heading towards his desk and the drawer that held his only chance of functioning at a lumbering pace. At least he didn’t hit the wall as he slumped down to dig – that was a nice bonus.
The bottle of pills hidden under some paper was half full. He shook two out, swallowing them with a bit of the water he always kept on his desk for that reason. Then it was straight to his bed. The only thing he remembered to do was click off the light as he collapsed face down into his pillow.
Biotic headaches: L2s might have gotten them the worst, but everyone had to face them eventually. Consider it the cost of doing business.
Colors bloomed behind the man’s eyes as he waited and prayed for the medicine to take effect. Part of him knew his chances were slim – his headache had started on the shuttle, so he was clearly out of the full range of help. Still, even if it took the edge off, he could function in an hour or so. At that point it was all Alistair could hope for as he felt the pain pulse.
Yep… he had definitely overdone it with the biotics. Simple mission, his pale and freckled ass.
“You think Miranda would have reinforced that.” His words came out low as he muttered them into his pillow. No doubt the camera she had planted in his room would pick it up, and frankly he didn’t care. It was another point of data that was going to go on his report of things she had messed up bringing him back to life. Was it petty to have a list of complaints with the person who brought him back from the dead?
Probably, but who cared. She’d left him with a functioning uterus, she could deal with the fallout.
At least it gave him something to focus on as he lay there in the dark, begging for some relief from the little pills. Thanks to his medic training, he knew how long it would take for the medicine to absorb into his system. Experience was an even better teacher, however – his biotics would make it go even faster.
It was weird – they were the reason he was taking the medicine, but they were also the reason it worked faster to relieve the pain. Talk about a catch-22.
Alistair laid there for what felt like an eternity, pain still throbbing against his temples. The soft glow of his omni-tool told him enough time had passed that the pills should have worked. Much to his immense displeasure, he still felt the majority of the pain as he rolled over onto his side.
In times like this, there was only one other hope of relief.
Slowly, the biotic rose to a sitting position, head still pounding. He went for the small table beside his bed, digging through the contents. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, buried towards the back. It took a few seconds more, but he pulled it free into the darkness of his quarters.
“Well… at least I don’t have to clean the one in my toolbox for its intended use.” Alistair grumbled to himself as he flicked his vibrator on to make sure it had enough power. He quietly thanked the universe that it buzzed to life as he clumsily unbuckled his belt, then slid out of his pants and upper layer of boxers. At some point, his packer slipped and hit the ground, but he didn’t care. Right then, it was in the way of pulling down his inner layer of underwear.
He lay back on his pillow, naked from the waist down. Usually, he would pull his blanket over so the Illusive Man didn’t get a show, but right then his brain was overriding whatever sense of shame he had left in him. The bastard could get what he paid for as he flicked the power to a medium setting and then applied it. The vibration soon started to flood through his body as he closed his eyes and waited.
This was always the most boring part. Unlike most people, Alistair didn’t watch porn. He didn’t see anything wrong with it, mind you, he just had no interest. The one time he had tried, he had wound up trying to piece together how it had been edited during one of the more heated moments between the actors on screen. By the time he had realized he had been trying to masturbate, his vibrator had long since died and he was long beyond his occasional need to get off.
Such was the fate of one on the asexual spectrum, he supposed.
“Damn it, can’t this go any faster?”
Alistair grumbled as he flicked the setting a little higher than he normally preferred. Then he shifted positions, pressing it a little harder in the hopes that might do something. The sensation was definitely building in his stomach, but it wasn’t nearly to the point he needed.
He sighed, closing his eyes once more. This was probably the point people made something up if they had nothing to watch. He had certainly tried in the past, particularly in his teens. However, those flimsy fantasies never really held up, and more often than not faded to the blackness of the inside of his eyelids within a few seconds. Whether that was because it didn’t work or he was just really bad at constructing sexy scenarios, he didn’t know.
At least it would be able to distract him while he waited for the vibrator to do its thing…
“Come on, think. You’re surrounded by muscular men literally every day, you have to have something in there to work with.”  
Of course, those people were under him now. It made it a little hard to picture anyone like them… under him. Such was the downside of being a commanding officer: anyone on ship was off limits.
Well, technically he WAS still considered dead by the Alliance…
“I am only considering this because I need something to focus on other than the damn ceiling.”
Alistair sighed as he did his best to try and imagine someone based on the people around him. Like always, a body slowly materialized with plenty of muscle underneath him, fully erect and ready to go. It didn’t have a face – it never did, thank God – and something about the skin seemed rather plastic-like. More importantly… they were kind of a dead fish. Even as he imagined himself lowering onto the dick, there was no reaction.
It was because he was still a virgin, wasn’t it? He knew he should’ve paid more attention to that porn, but could you blame him? He just HAD to know what kind of camera they were using to film the climax scenes, it worked so well in low light…
“Damn it, Alistair, fucking focus on the fucking…”
But it was no good – the plastic body remained lukewarm, vaguely thrusting in time with the vibrator pressed against his oft ignored clit.  He was right back to where he had started, and his head still pounded. Sighing, Alistair shut off his vibrator and sat up. As soon as he did, his omni-tool began to beep.
54.
“Great. My head hurts, and I’m hypo.” He didn’t bother with fitting his packer back into his underwear. Instead, the Spectre grabbed his boxers and padded over to his emergency sugar supply. A small pile of pixie stick wrappers soon formed as he tried not to mope too much about his inability to fix his headache. At least the sugar made his lips stop feeling numb, but it wasn’t like he had to use them right then.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair and dislodging the rubber band holding it back in the process. “Guess I’ll just try to sleep it off without the added headache relief.”
That was the great thing about being on the ace side of life – no lingering horniness thanks to his inept abilities.
With another sigh, Alistair made his way back to his bed. This time, he slid under the covers and closed his eyes. His head still pounded, but in the quiet of his quarters he found it a little easier to slip into sleep.
---
“Commander…”
“Vakarian, keep on. That’s an order.”
The body beneath him was hot, almost uncomfortably so. Without skin, the surface was hard and a little rocky where plates joined together. It was a little slick too, and not just because of the lube – carapaces were a fucking slip and slide in the bedroom if you weren’t ready for the angles. It was a little uncomfortable, but with positioning - and a little flexibility - things went where they needed to go.
The turian’s eyes were cloudy with blown pupils. He was breathing hard, grasping at the sheets. His erection had long since shown itself, now buried deep.  When he rubbed against it, the collision of their hips made him whimper.
“I can’t hold it much longer…”
He smirked and leaned closed to the strange neck ahead of him, lips barely ghosting against the hard skin. “Are you giving out on me, Vakarian?”
“N-no, sir…” He was panting, trying to rub. But there would be none of that. Alistair shifted his position to make sure he couldn’t find the relief. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again, and his mandibles fluttered once more.
It was here that he took his time, carefully biting at the sensitive parts of the turian’s neck. The whimpering got so high pitched that the translator couldn’t work with it anymore, and his natural voice broke through. There was something primal about it, and even though he didn’t have full command of the words, it was enough to get him to smirk as he stopped biting and ran a carful finger between two plates.
“What was that?”
Garrus’ voice was breathy when the translator finally kicked in. “N-nothing, sir…”
His grip was iron on the sheets, and his entire body was trembling. There was the point of climax, and then there it was past it. Clearly, he was edging towards the latter. Alistair nodded as he shifted his position, lowering a bit more. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again.
“You know what you have to say, Vakarian.”
The turian took a shaky breath, eyes so wide they reminded him of a cat. “Yes, Commander…”
Another shaky breath. “Permission to come aboard?”
It was at this point that Alistair shifted again, fully lowering himself against the turian’s sensitive member, nudging his head close to where he heard best. “Permission granted, Vakarian.”
With that, he rubbed the space between plates one last time, working a nail into right where it was the most sensitive. Beneath him, Garrus shuddered as he finally climaxed, his entire body shaking from the force. All the while, he held on, feeling the vibrations and pulse of the turian’s orgasm.
It was at this point he rolled off to protect himself from the withdrawal. The bad thing about turians was that their anatomy was all internal, regardless of gender. That meant Garrus needed to remove the condom before things got stuck and required an embarrassing visit to a doctor for removal.
“Sir… I…”
Alistair carefully removed the condom for the shaking turian, tossing it to the trash. “Can’t have you out of service, Vakarian.”
“Thank you…” Garrus’ voice was still shaky and going in and out of the translator, but his eyes were more focused. “And you, sir?”
This was the point the turian’s careful hand reached toward him, pausing. He knew better. But right then, Alistair allowed it with a nod. Cautious talons soon found his clit, already slick from a combination of the lube and his own heat.
Here it was faster. Garrus was a pro at getting him off with careful strokes that avoided the sharp side of his clipped talons. The heat was beginning to pool in Alistair’s stomach once more, but he fought back a grunt.
After all, it wouldn’t do to show that in front of his men.
---
Alistair’s eyes snapped open as he sat up. His head still ached, but it wasn’t really his focus then.  A familiar sensation of heat was growing in his stomach as his consciousness slowly filtered in. Without pause, he peeled off both the blanket and his boxers. Just like he thought, he was already wet and close to the point.
Barely breathing, he reached for his vibrator and flicked it on. Garrus’ strained voice and shaking hands were still in his mind as he leaned back and let it work. Just the thought of the turian so close to orgasm and unable to do anything about it caused him to shiver, and it was at that point that it kicked into high gear.
After a few seconds, he climaxed with a shudder and a quiet squeak of a moan. Sweating a little, he turned off the vibrations and just lay there in bed, staring up at the covered ceiling. Someone – probably his sister – had stuck glow in the dark stickers to the dark fabric stretched across the skylight. It looked like Orion’s Belt to him, not that he had ever seen it in person.
Yeah, he was definitely trying to avoid this.
“Man, fuck me…”
He sighed. On the bright side, the orgasm had done its job – combined with the medicine, it was easier to think now, and his pounding headache had reduced itself to a dull throb that he could work with. However, now he had a new headache as he sat up to head to the shower.
Garrus’ face was still in his head as he stripped and let the hot water hit his back. Just imagining it made his hand want to wander down from its spot pressed against the wall towards his clit. But he resisted the urge as he shook his head, water flying thanks to his wet hair.
“I can’t believe I went there with him. What the hell am I thinking?”
Alistair rested his forehead against the wall, groaning. This wasn’t the first time he’d had thoughts like this, though it was the first with someone he knew. As much as he hated to admit it, something about that kind of control excited him.
Which, given he was a fucking commanding officer, was a nightmare. It wasn’t like he got off to ordering people around, though; that was business, and he took no pleasure in it. These thoughts just popped up in his private life, in the rare internet searches he did in incognito and made sure his omni-tool was blocking everything out.
“And with Garrus… fuck.”
That was probably the worst part of all as he watched the water circle the drain. Things were better with the turian since they had met up on Omega, but there was being civil and… that. Honestly, it felt awful to him as he played it over again in his mind, closing his eyes tightly.
Awful… but also awfully hot.
His free hand brushed against his thigh, fingers finding his clit. As the water poured down, he rubbed slowly, playing the memory over in his brain. His mind kept focusing on the look on Garrus’ face, on his breathy voice breaking translation. Just imagining him whimpering on the edge of climax with nowhere to go made the heat pool in his stomach. Did the real turian look and sound like that when he was so close to the edge?
“Damn it, Vakarian…”
It came out under his breath in an octave he normally couldn’t hit unless he strained at the bottom of his range. Yet at the moment, it was almost effortless as he replayed the turian underneath him, writhing and unable to do anything about it.
Well, nothing except beg anyway.
Of course, there was a downside to jacking off in the shower. Given the fact he was just standing there, the motion activated lights stopped activating, and he was suddenly in the dark. The quick loss of light was enough to snap him out of the dream and take too quick a step back.
And then on his ass he went.
“Fuck!”
Alistair’s vision swam as he winced, reaching up to turn the water off as his ass throbbed from the force of 140 pounds falling onto it. Nothing felt broken, but there was definitely going to be a bruise once he dried off. Lucky for him, nobody was looking there anyway.
“Shepard, I detected a fall. Are you experiencing hypoglycemic shock?”
EDI’s electronic voice made the whole thing worse as he finally stood, soaking wet and feeling rather stupid. He grabbed for a towel and dried off, wincing as he reached his backside. That one was going to be spectacular.
“I don’t have my omni-tool on, EDI. I’ll let you know in a second.”
A few moments later, with a happy CGM, Alistair sat gingerly at his desk. Now he had two dull throbs to keep him company, along with the reminder of just what the fuck he had been doing a few moments prior. His cheeks colored as he rubbed the towel over his wet hair, trying to block it out.
“Shepard?”
Right, EDI…
“It’s fine, EDI. I just was in there too long and I slipped.” He paused, looking out from under the towel towards the blur orb. “Er, thank you for checking on me.”
What could he say, apart from jacking off to the submissive version of his crewmate, he was a polite man.
The orb clicked off, leaving him to his brooding. Alistair groaned a little as he felt the bruise throb once more. Maybe it was the universe punishing him. Didn’t matter, still fucking hurt as he finished drying off.
“I’m probably going to have to avoid Garrus for a little bit.” He frowned. “Can’t have that happen again. It’d be too awkward…”
But then his eye went to his schedule. His stomach dropped at the sight. Thanks to his headache, he had totally forgotten that he was supposed to check the turian’s new implants to make sure everything was ok. As a matter of fact, he had an hour at best.
He could go to Chakwas for that, right? Right?
“I’m so fucked.”
The human rested his soggy forehead on the deck, mentally willing wherever his dream had come from back to whatever hell it had generated. Lucky for him, he was good at repressing things. With any luck, he wouldn’t even think about it by the time the turian got there for the implant check.
After, though? Well… he was pretty sure he was fucked. Next time he was just going to take a double dose of pain pills. After all, with that new stomach and liver he was pretty sure his body could take that kind of beating. It would be better than the other kind, to say the least.
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