#no fem readers though

[breakingdownsomebarriers]

Welcome to the Blog!

Hey there, nice to see you here! I'm Onyx, I use he/him pronouns, and I have been hyperfixating on Star Wars for the last couple of years!

This blog is mostly for me to express my love for clones and their respective shows, as well as write about my characters or other scenarios involving said characters. I've loved Star Wars forever but only recently got the idea to make a place for me to let me ramble and talk freely about the characters I love so dearly.

I do take some writing requests, but before submitting one please look at my guidelines or I will delete/ignore it. If I don't answer a request right away it's either because I'm not in the mood to write for requests, I deleted the request because it was out of my comfort zone or made me uncomfortable somehow, or I'm working on it while battling writer's block which can increase the time it takes to finish writing by a lot. So, be patient, yeah?

This blog is mostly SFW, though some more spicy/mature posts will be made from time to time and they will be labelled as such. Minors, please be wary on my blog and stay safe. If I have to in the future, I will make this blog an 18+ blog and minors will no longer be allowed here.

Before you follow

I am autistic and will unapologetically ramble about things. I also might accidentally say something I don't mean or take something the wrong way because of my tone reading difficulties. I promise it's nothing personal!

I am very, very gay, and I use queer to describe myself in most scenarios. If that makes you uncomfortable then do what's best for you. I won't be tagging the word at all in my posts, though

I do not like clonecest and will not write anything for it. At all. I've always seen the clones as brothers and I don't write for incest either. It makes me very uncomfortable to think about it, let alone write or read about it.

I might not know if someone is problematic when reblogging something or talking to said someone, so let me know if someone falls into that category so I can correct my mistake! The same goes with any language I've used or things I've accidentally said! If I'm made aware of my mistake, I will do my damndest to make sure I don't make it again.

I don't really write for female readers/reader inserts. I lean heavily towards masculine/male readers since there's honestly not a ton of it out there for us to read. I also kind of suck at writing female readers and there are other people out there more qualified to write them then me if that's what you're looking for

I don't use y/n for reader inserts. I don't like how choppy it makes the writing so I use nicknames or things similar to it instead

I block blank blogs because of all of the tumblr bots going around. Indicate that you are human somewhere on your blog or else I'll block you without hesitation. I also don't tolerate hatred on my blog so I will block very quickly if someone is being nasty for no reason.

DNI if you are homophobic/transphobic/racist/xenophobic etc.

Tagging Key

(New tags may be added to this list in the future. Feel free to check back here to see what they mean and/or find any new tags I've made during my time here)

>> #Onyx's Oddments - Personal Headcanons/Opinions/Thoughts

>> #Onyx's Ramblings - Random ideas/concepts that are probably semi-shitposty or ranty in nature

>> #Onyx Draws - Art tag

>> #Onyx's OCs - OC tag, whenever my OCs are being spoken about, drawn, or in a fic

>> #Onyx Speaks - Announcements/Blog updates

>> #Onyx's Archives - Any drabble/story pieces that I make; my general writing tag

>> #Onyx's Inbox - General inbox tag that I use for any answered asks

>> #From the Ether - Answered anonymous fic/drabble/headcanon requests

>> #breaking barriers - For hurt/comfort fics. They are my most commonly produced genre/type of fic (hence why I've made a tag for them lol)

>> #behind closed doors - Suggestive/mature/nsfw tag

Below, you'll find my writing request guidelines if that's something you're interested in.

Request Guidelines

Will Write

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Recovery fics, and a ton of other genres

MLM/MLNB ships, Masc/Male readers, FTM readers, ENBY readers

Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars: The Bad Batch fics, for a bunch of different characters. If I have to in the future I'll specify characters I will/won't write for

Character X Reader, Character X Character, or just general scenarios that aren't ship related like "X character and Y character do this thing and laugh about it." or "FTM reader comes out to X character." So, the scenarios/prompts can be platonic or romantic. If you'd like (once I introduce them) you could also ask for my OCs in the fics too if that's what you want.

One-shots, Short Fics, Drabbles, Headcanons, and Scenarios

Third and/or Second person POVs

Some triggering content such as things like self-harm, though it might take me a while depending on the content. I try my best not to romanticize things so please let me know if any fics in this category are doing that so I can edit them/take them down/rewrite them etc.

Suggestive/Adult Content (Minus NSFW or Smut)

Won't Write

Rape, Incest/Clonecest, Master/Padawan ships, pedophilia, sexual assault, stockholm syndrome, yandere, etc.

Star Wars movie fics. I haven't watched them in years so they would be inaccurate as fuck

Fem/Female readers, or ships that aren't MLM/MLNB

First person POV

Smut or full NSFW (I will be making a second 18+ blog for that)

Outline

This is for those who want a sort of direction that they can follow in regards to the formatting of the requests. Without this format it might take me longer to get the request finished or I might have to turn it down altogether.

(Blue means it's highly recommended/suggested, orange means it's optional)

Who: Who do you want to be in the fic? Who is the main pair/group/focus?

Prompt: What do you want to see happen, what do you want people to react to, or what do you want the subject matter to be? The more details you have, the better. You can also use dialogue prompts for these if you found some that you'd like to see appear in the fic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Fluff? Or some other genre?

Style: Romantic pairing? Platonic? Do you want it to be more of a Oneshot or something like bullet-point headcanons? Or do you want to see little drabbles of a scenario with multiple pairings reacting to it? Let me know!

Length: A general idea of how long you'd like it to be based on wordcount.

Appearance: If there are elements of the reader (if you want a reader insert) that you want included, put it here! Plus-sized? Long Hair? Short Hair?

POV: I can write in both third or second person, but I won't write first person. You can specify which of them you'd like if you want.

Reader gender: If you don't specify that they are enby, a demiboy, trans FTM/Transmasc, or a cis male (or some other masc/male-aligned gender) I'll default to a cis male and use he/him pronouns for the reader. If you want I can also have the reader using he/they, they/he, or some other pronouns, just let me know and I'll happily do that for you. (I will not be using any fem-aligned pronouns though)

Nickname: If you want a reader insert, giving them a nickname would be a huge help since I don't use Y/N anywhere in fics. If you don't supply one I'll come up with one instead

So, for those who like examples like me, here's a couple of potential requests and what they would look like following this outline. "Hello there! So I'm looking for a fluffy thing of the bad batch (pre-order 66) where [character] has a crush on the male reader (he/they pronouns). I was looking for some headcanons of how the other members would react to learning about the crush? I'd like at least 200ish words per section if that's okay, and the reader can use the nickname Sprocket :)"

You can also do something more detailed, like this:

"Hey! I have a writing request! I was looking for some hurt/comfort for a fic of a transmasc reader (he/him) who is dating [character] and they meet people from the reader's past who purposefully misgenders him and [character] steps in to correct them. Things escalate into a fight and when [character] and the reader get back to their personal quarters they talk about it. Reader is crying and [character] thinks he's upset but then they realize that the reader is just really proud and happy to have them as his partner.

You don't have to include this but I'd love to see the reader have freckles and short hair. He's also kind of short in my head, like 5' 3" ish.

I don't mind the length for the fic, do whatever fits for you! I'd prefer if it was in third person, and you can call the reader Wyatt if you want."

Both of them are fine! I personally like when things are separated more like the second one to make it easier for me to categorize and fit into my brain, but if you don't have a giant detailed idea in your mind then that's fine too!

See you later and happy requesting!

[andersonfilms]

daydreaming about tennisplayer!abby who is the best in the game, she’s been dominant almost since she was able to hold a racket in her hand. with each year passing by, there wasn’t anything else she’d rather be doing. she’s cocky about it too. not in a way that’s obvious, but enough to make sure her opponents know how good she is. with her power backing her monstrous serve, she tends to leave everyone in the dust, well, until you. it’s the first time her matches have gone to a third set. you’re getting in her head and she’s not too fond of it.

you’re younger than her but fuck…you’re amazing. abby’s experienced enough to pull herself together in the match point before the tiebreak catches up with her. the white sleeves stay pure as snow along with her reputation. the fact she almost let wimbledon slip through her fingers isn’t lost on her. it leaves her exposed to future opponents, yet she displays her charming smile as you hold the runner’s up prize, your hips touching hers.

it isn’t until the after party, she finds you hiding away from the swarm of people, alone on the beach as the sand kisses your feet, the moonlight illuminating your glowing skin.

abby wishes she wasn’t enchanted with you. you’re the competition, the best she’s had in years at that.

“didn’t like how the match went?” you question, offering a sip of your glass of wine.

“i should’ve ended it sooner.”

“not even going to give me a little credit?” you smirk as she takes a few sips on the chardonnay. abby allows the substance to influence her decision. along with the few glasses she’s finished tonight.

“the abby anderson drops the second set but has a courageous victory against the new and up-comer.” you laugh, looking her up and down before settling on a deep pair of curious blue eyes.

“don’t sweat it, the headlines will be praising you. you’re the golden girl.” you assure her as your hands play with the chain, tugging on it as you maneuver her closer to you.

“what are you playing at?” abby quints, blonde eyebrows furrowed.

“nothing, m’just curious i suppose.” you play with the collar of her button up, her toned pecs slightly exposed. the defined line in the middle disappearing under the tank she wore underneath it. the golden chain laying deliciously on her freckled skin, you wanted to choke her with it.

whether you would get off from it, you hadn’t decided.

“i want to see for myself if you’re as golden as they say.” you play with the ends of her blonde waves, released from her constricted braid. you lean in, perfume invading abby’s senses as you place your hands on her toned abdomen.

biting your lip as you peak through your eyelashes, practically pressing your body against hers.

“i think you’re reading this wrong.” the burly blonde pressed but you pinch her side which lurches her forward. playfully, you bite her earlobe.

“mhm, i don’t think so.” you grin like a cheshire cat, her heavy breathes are the only thing to be heard.

you lean back, leaving abby no choice but to lean in. delightfully, your face turning as her lips ghost over yours. you smirk, eating every single moment of it right up.

“reach up my dress, abby.”

“um” she pauses, chuckling softly. “can you say that again? i could have sworn you just said—”

“up my dress, anderson.” you quirk your eyebrow upwards. daring the uptight tennis legend to take a step into something she really shouldn’t. she’s never been tried quite like this, but she’s also never had someone who made her entire body light a flame.

her firm hand slightly drifts, fingertips softly kissing your thighs, the smooth skin feeling tempting under her fingertips. she gazes at you expectantly, waiting for your next instruction as abby traces incoherent patterns on your skin.

“waistband.” you command. with hooded eyelids, her fingertips skim over your lace as she feels something square, round edges, as she slips the piece of plastic out from under you.

“your hotel key?”

you grip her chin, tugging at her bottom lip as she pouts deliciously. “yes….and if you want to put your hands up my dress again, you’ll use it.”again, you nibble on her earlobe. “anderson, you may not scream in the court like most, but i’ll get you there tonight.”

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @nybueckers @only4theweekend @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @b1ttersuite @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @mytwoseater @cherrybunny @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay

[atomicami]

doing another bfm abby drabble because i said so…inspired by this twitter video (18+ minors DNI)

okay so imagine spending the night with boyfriend’s mom!abby at her house and she decides to use a toy on you for the first time…but not only that, she would also be just a little more dominant with you too.

you’d be sitting on the edge of her bed, in that same exact spot where she ate you out not that long ago without her son knowing, watching her rummage through her bedside drawer and picking out a hot pink wand to use on you.

she’d then approach back to where you were and kneel down in front of you. you’d instantly spread your legs out, revealing your wet pussy to her. you hear the clicking sound of the wand, followed by a buzzing noise, and she immediately places it right over your clit to start you off.

it’d be less than 30 seconds with that wand on your pussy and your legs would already be trembling. you want to close them so bad, but the sensation of the wand feels so good that you just can’t do it. it then becomes more difficult once abby increases the setting. more moans and whines escape from your mouth as you squirm on the edge of the bed.

you hear her call out your name, and you try to focus your attention on her. “do you like it, sweetheart?” she asks, receiving a whiny nod from you in response. abby then begins to vertically rub the wand in between your puffy folds, spreading your arousal all over your pussy as she continues to talk to you. “why don’t you tell me how much you like it? do you like it?”

“y-yeah…”

“how much?”

“a lot…”

“good girl.”

abby increases the setting again, and you start to lose the sense to even form a coherent sentence, now letting out a bunch of babbles and whines to her. the stimulation feels too intense on your clit, giving you the need to grab the wand out of her hands. abby notices and moves the wand away from you, now pressing it harder down onto your clit as punishment. “keep your hands to yourself…” she warns.

you ball your hands up into fists, whining in frustration as you try to hold back. as much as you were trying to resist it, the fact that abby was increasing the pressure bit by bit was making it more difficult for you. “ah, f-fuck…” you whine out, your hands peeking out in between your legs to try to grab at the wand again. once again, abby looks up at you and moves the wand away before giving you a final warning:

“i said keep your hands to yourself, sweetheart…or i might not let you cum at all tonight.”

so yeah anyways…bfm abby supremacy 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Lauro 🧼

[the-raindeer-king]

You're well aware that your status as the only woman amongst the 141 gets you lots of stares. Plenty of people jeering with jealousy over one thing or another. You've learned to live with it. You've got bigger things to worry about.

But this was definitely a first.

You had been working on some documents, putting together some last minute intel, when your concentration was broken by giggling. Two of the recruits, whose names currently evade your mind, approach where you're sitting, giggling amongst themselves.

“Sargent, we were wondering if you could help us,” one of them, blonde, pipes up.

The other, brunette, giggles again, her cheeks flushed pink. “It's just a quick question, ma'am.”

You stare blankly at them. Don't they have better shit to do than bother you? You let out a loud sigh, annoyed. You certainly have better shit to do than entertain them. But you offer them a tight lipped smile anyway, and reply, “Sure, ask away.”

“How do you get any work done with Sargent MacTavish and Lieutenant Riley around?”

Another blank stare. How do you get work done around Ghost and Soap? You raise an eyebrow, waiting for them to elaborate.

“I mean, MacTavish is so charming -”

“And funny!”

“- and he's so handsome. And the Lieutenant is so mysterious under that mask. And his voice is so…” she trails off, her cheeks darker than before.

All you can think of is this morning, at breakfast, when Ghost forgot to take his mask off and tried to drink his tea, nearly waterboarding himself. And how, in response, Johnny laughed so hard he shot milk from his nose. So, at the moment, charming and mysterious are not words you would use to describe them.

Charming is a word strictly used to describe another member of your team. One with pretty brown eyes that shine like amber in the sunlight. One with a honeyed voice that makes you a little weak in the knees. One that these Privates are not asking about.

You blink, breaking yourself out of your thoughts. There must be a look on your face, because the rookies giggle like they've caught you red handed.

“You'll learn that all men are dogs,” you reply sternly. “No amount of pretty words is worth dying for.”

Hypocrite, you think. You'd throw yourself in the line of fire, if it meant hearing Gaz laugh. You'd dragged yourself out of the pits of hell, just for a chance to see him smile once more. Just to hear him call your name, always so fond when he does.

“Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals. “You've got a crush!”

“Is it MacTavish? Because he's so dreamy!” The other giggles.

Just your luck. These recruits think you've got a crush on the wrong guy, and knowing rookies, the rumor will be halfway through the base before dinner.

“Don't you ladies have better shit to do than bother my Sargent?” Ghost's voice cuts through their incessant questions.

Both girls squeak out a “Yes, Lieutenant,” before they're scrambling away. But you know the damage is done. Everyone's going to think you have a crush on Soap, of all people.

You glance up at Ghost, who's still watching the recruits run off. “So… how much of that did you hear?”

He snorts, something like amusement in his voice as he replies. “Enough, but I know you don't like Johnny. Have'ta be stupid not to see the way you look at Gaz.”

You feel your face immediately heat up. “Hey! It's not that obvious!” You argue, playfully punching Ghost's shoulder.

His eyes crinkle at the sides, your sign that he's smiling under the mask. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. “S’ that what you tell yourself? We've all seen the way you soften up around ‘im.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing damn well there's no point arguing with him. But it's the next thing Ghost says, that makes your eyes widen and your jaw drop.

“He just needs to man up and ask you out. Tired o’ watching you two pine like school kids.”

[mxltifxnd0m]

heaven's in your eyes യ s. winchester

summary: you and sam are in a sticky situation and there's only one way to get out of it

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 3.4K

warnings: vaguely set in season 3/4, fluff, mutual pining, slight angst, teasing from dean, sam in a tux (yes that's a warning), kissing, suggestive/spice, implied smut but no smut

a/n: i've had this one stuck in the noggin for a while and finally got around to writing it! this was heavily inspired by and based on the mall scene in captain america TWS between steve and nat and 3x6 episode with bela.

reblog and comment on the fic! I love seeing your thoughts on it sm 😊

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You never thought you'd be in this position in a million years, feeling the heat of Sam's hands seep into the fabric on your waist as he pulled you in closer, sliding his leg between yours as your back hit the wall. This is not what you had thought would happen when you decided to ask for the Winchesters' help on your hunt.

You had run into the Winchester brothers after you had "accidentally" killed the witch they had been hunting. You had no idea that the three of you were hunting the same witch, but you had gotten to her first. You had no clue that the Winchesters were in the same town as you. Your paths never crossed until they found you hunched over the witch's body, blood splattered over your face and clothes, with the living room of the witch in complete disarray.

You looked up from the dead witch to see two tall mountains dressed in leather and flannel standing in the doorway. You remembered their faces were screwed up with expressions of surprise and puzzlement as you stood up from the carpeted floor with a grin on your face.

"Seems I beat the two of you to it." You said to them, slightly out of breath, and stuck out a hand for them to shake, introducing yourself to the two men who you deduced to be hunters. You instantly noticed that they were gorgeous. They seemed to walk straight out of a GQ magazine. But the thing that gave away the fact that they were hunters was how they held themselves like soldiers (and the fact they had guns in their hands as they burst into the house like madmen).

Your eyes were drawn to the taller one of the two (they were both pretty tall, but you could have considered this one a giant). He had shaggy brown hair with bangs that you just knew that he had to brush away from his eyes frequently and a nose that, if you followed the slope of it, you could see how it came to a cute point at the end of it. What really entranced you was his hazel eyes that memorized you as soon as you made contact with them.

They introduced themselves as Dean and Sam, the latter being the one you found yourself attracted to the most as his warm hand engulfed yours as the two of you shook hands.

From then on, you guys seemed to cross paths at least once a month on a hunt. Whether it was a nest of vampires, a vengeful spirit, or a pack of werewolves, the Winchesters and you would end up in the same place and time and end up working together. There was this unspoken agreement that the three of you would work together if you so happened to be working the same hunt.

During these hunts, you found yourself pining over Sam Winchester. You didn't know how it happened at first (okay, you do know how it happened, but you didn't want to admit anything at first), but you noticed how kind and sweet Sam was. Sam's empathy and positivity were a stark contrast to the bleakness you were used to as you worked on hunts, but it was a breath of fresh air for you.

It didn't help that the two of you got along like a house on fire. You met someone who could understand your weird niche literary references, match you in a battle of wits, and actually enjoy learning and the research aspect of hunting. And your yearning for him didn't stop there because it didn't help that Sam was devastatingly handsome and, at his core, such a gentleman.

The realization that you liked Sam hit you like a ton of bricks. So, you did what you did best when it came to your feelings, you ran. You distanced yourself from them. You would purposely dodge their calls (Sam's mostly). It was a dick move, and you knew it since they were most likely calling for help, but you couldn't bring yourself to call back.

But with this particular hunt, you were stumped and needed help. You had tracked down a necklace from the late 17th century that led a trail of bodies behind it. You surmised that it was cursed, and you needed to get to it and burn it. The only problem was that it was sold to a small museum owner in an estate sale from the previous owner and was going to be displayed in the town's museum for its grand opening, with the necklace being the main exhibit. You had no way of getting it without being caught, so you needed extra hands.

You paced the length of the motel room you were staying out, biting your thumb as you debated on calling in for some help. You would have called Bobby for help, but you knew he would just send the Winchesters over to you anyway. After pacing around your room, you bit the bullet and called Dean.

"Well, isn't this a surprise sweetheart!" Dean's voice filtered through your ears, and you couldn't help the slight smile that grew on your face at the sound of his cheery tone (even if you could hear the undercurrent of smugness in his words).

"Hi Dean," You greeted with a chuckle as you sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking slightly underneath your weight.

"I hate to admit it, but I need your help on this hunt I'm working on." You asked as you bit your bottom lip, waiting for his response.

"You're in luck. Sammy and I just wrapped up a hunt here, where are you anyway?"

You felt your heart start to beat faster at the mention of Sam, which made you roll your eyes at your reaction to just a name. You told him the town and the state the hunt was in, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice as Dean replied.

"We're not that far from you. Just a couple hours drive from you."

"Well, if you're up for it, I could really use the help."

"Oh, we'll be there, sweetheart. Text me the motel you're staying at and the room number, and I'll let you know when we get there."

"Will do." You told him, and the two of you said goodbye as you hung up the phone. You fell backward onto the bed with a loud exhale. At least you had a couple of hours to compose yourself and try to breathe normally. You found yourself always short of breath while Sam Winchester was in the vicinity of you (you should probably go to the doctor for that, but it's not like you had good health insurance for a physical).

A couple of hours later, you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala just outside of the motel room. You felt something flutter in your stomach when you realized that you'd be seeing Sam after three months of no contact. There was a knock at the door, and after checking through the peephole of the door, you unlocked and swung the door open to be greeted with the broad grin of Dean Winchester, his brother, standing right behind him with a smaller smile on his face.

Dean had pulled you into a short but warm hug and brushed past you into your room, making himself home as you gave Sam a hug in greeting, feeling his arms wrap around you and squeezing before letting go. You could have sworn his touch lingered as he entered your room. You bit your bottom lip and released it as you shut your door.

Once Sam and Dean were settled at the table in your motel room and you on the bed, you gave them the rundown of what the hunt was and what you needed to do to get rid of the necklace. You were so engrossed in explaining your research and what you found out that you didn't notice Sam's eyes trained on you the entire time, a fond smile on his face as he listened to you talk.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, but this seems like a one-person job?" Dean questioned.

"That's what I thought too, but I found out that the necklace was going to be the main exhibit for the museum and unveiled at the end of the night. I was going to knab it beforehand, but this museum has pretty good security, and as much as I'm good at sneaking around, I don't have the measures to handle them without backup."

"We're just backup then? Oh, that hurts more than you could imagine sweetheart," Dean pretended to get shot in the heart, dramatically holding his chest.

You chuckled at Dean before you looked at Sam at that moment and caught him rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Quit being dramatic Dean," Sam said before his eyes met yours. "We'll help in anyway we can." The soft smile that was on his lips made you melt inside.

You smiled back at Sam. "Thanks, but there's another thing, it's a black-tie event." You winced a bit at your own words.

Dean groaned. "You're telling me I have to wear a tux?"

You scoffed at Dean's whining. "At least you could still hunt in a tux, wearing a dress makes it a little more difficult to move in."

A salacious grin made its way onto Dean's face. "Ah, but it's easier access if you know what I mean." He winked at you, and one of the pillows from the bed hit his face. You heard Sam chuckle, making your smile widen.

"Shut up, Dean. It's late, and the event is tomorrow. So you guys need to buy a suit and I need to go out and buy a dress." You all but shooed the brothers out of your room and bid each other good night.

Morning came faster than you anticipated, and the three of you went out for breakfast at the nearest diner before you guys went shopping for the outfits you needed for tonight.

"So, I was thinking, if the event is black-tie, wouldn't it mean this is invite only?" Sam asked while the three of you were eating.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yeah, I was able to get two tickets, both of them with plus ones." The sweet old lady who ran the motel had given them to you, saying that she was too old to go and wanted to give them someone. She had given them to you since you had mentioned offhandly that you wanted to visit the museum after it opened.

"Good, I'll take the other ticket and Sammy here can be your plus one." Dean said with a wide smile as he patted Sam's shoulder. Your eyes widened at Dean's words, seeing the mischief glint in his green eyes.

You pursed your lips and looked at Sam. He had an unreadable face and looked everywhere but at you.

You cleared your throat to grab his attention. "Is that okay with you Sam?"

Sam finally looked at you and hummed. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay with being my date to the museum?" You clarified.

Sam nodded, his hair falling into his eyes as he did. "Yeah, it's okay." He reassured you, and the temptation to brush it away for him was at an all-time high. You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when he did it himself.

From there, the three of you finished your breakfast and went out and shopped for your dresses and tuxedos, respectively. You had found a beautiful spaghetti-strap green dress; the neckline came at a v, exposing a large portion of your collarbone and chest, a slit on either side of the dress that went up to your midthigh. There was an open back that stopped right above your lower back. This was the first time in years you would wear a dress, and when you tried it on in the store, you couldn't help but get it.

Once you guys were done shopping, you went back to the motel to get ready. Dean teased you about how girls take longer, but you didn't dignify his teasing with a response. With a roll of your eyes and a wave of your hand, you went into your motel room to get ready and informed the boys to be prepared by 6:30 since the event started at 7.

You took a shower, shaved everything, and slipped into the dress. You did your makeup, and it was a little heavier than usual, having put some eyeshadow on your lids, smoking it out, eyeliner, and some lipstick to tie the look together. With your hair, you french braided the front of it, leaving some framing pieces out, and then took the rest of your hair and pulled it into a bun at the nape of your neck.

There was a knock on your door as you finished up, and you quickly left the bathroom and opened the motel door to see Sam and Dean in their tuxes. They both looked handsome, but your breath caught as you stared at Sam. His hair was relatively the same; it was just combed down, and some product was used to tame it. His suit fit him like a glove, and you gripped the door a little tighter as your eyes roamed his figure.

"Wow," Dean breathed out, breaking you out of your little trance. "You look great." Dean said with a genuine smile on his face. His compliment made you smile.

"Thanks Dean. You look pretty good too."

Dean scoffed playfully. "Just good? I think the words you're looking for are handsome, jaw-droppingly attractive or you know any adjective that means hot."

"Right," You drawled out. "Why would I lie to you?" You smiled sarcastically at him and laughed when his smile dropped into a scowl.

"I'll be in the car." He grumbled before stalking off to the parking lot and to the Impala.

You and Sam laughed at Dean before the two of you settled into an awkward silence.

You smiled tightly at him. "Let me get my bag and we can go."

Sam nodded, and you quickly grabbed your bag. You exited the room and locked the motel door once it closed. The two of you walked to the Impala and got in.

Once you had entered the museum, you knew you were doomed. Sam was acting like a perfect gentleman and date, always having a hand on you at all times, whether it be at the small of your back or your arm hooked around his as you walked around the ornate museum.

"I didn't get to say this earlier, but you look beautiful." Sam had whispered into your ear as the two of you walked into the museum, and you almost tripped on your kitten heels because of the sudden compliment. You felt your cheeks warm as you quietly thanked him.

The three of you decided to walk the museum and tried to find the necklace before it could be unveiled to the public. Dean had the first floor, while you and Sam had the second floor. Most of the second floor was the other exhibits the museum had. But you eventually found the necklace behind a locked room. Sam picked the lock to the door and saw the necklace in the corner of the room. The two of you carefully grabbed the necklace from the mannequin neck it was displayed on and put it in your bag.

Before you guys could get out of the room, you heard heavy footsteps heading your way. You started to panic internally as Sam looked at you urgently.

"Kiss me." You blurted out.

Sam's eyes widened. "What?"

"Look, we don't have a way out without being caught and public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable."

"Yeah, they do. Are you sure?"

You heard the footsteps get closer and closer, and you quickly pulled Sam down by his neck and placed your lips on his. Sam's hands found your waist as he pulled you in closer to his broad figure but also moved you backward until your bare back hit the wall.

His lips were soft and warm as they moved against yours, and you couldn't help but feel warmth fill your chest as you kissed him. Your hands made their way up his chest and wound up on his shoulder and hair, making him scoot closer to you, his leg fitting through the gap between your open ones and gasping into his lips as his thigh pressed against your core.

The door opened, and the both of you pulled away, slightly out of breath, and turned to see Dean grinning widely in the doorway.

"Well, as much as I love to see the two of you work your feelings out for each other, we need to leave before we get caught stealing a necklace."  

Your heart starts to beat faster than it already was at Dean's words. Sam had feelings for me? You thought to yourself as you looked at Sam, who was already looking back at you and seemed to think about the same thing.

Sam leaned down. "We'll talk at the motel." He whispered in your ear before pulling away and sending you a smile. You nodded and followed him out of the room, Dean leading the charge out of the museum.

You were nervous and antsy the entire ride back to the motel, having destroyed the necklace in the woods right beside the museum. You stared at the back of Sam's head as Dean drove, wondering what the hell was going through his head.

When you guys made it back, Sam had you followed back to your room. Dean noticed, and he started to make some teasing remarks about the two of you to keep it down. All you and Sam did was flip him off and go into your room.

After the door shut, you and Sam were standing in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a charged silence. You don't know who moved first, but the two of you were entangled in one another, hands pulling at clothes, lips, and teeth on jawlines and neck. Hips grinding into one another, low moans and groans filled the air as the two shared a passionate embrace.

Later, after the two of you cleaned up, you were tucked into Sam's side, resting your head on his bare chest, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with your fingertip. At the same time, his hand trailed up and down your arm and shoulder and kissed your hair occasionally as the two of you basked in the comfortable silence.

"This isn't a one time thing for me you know?" Sam's voice broke through the calmness of the quiet room.

You turned your head to look up at him. "Really?" You asked him, and you could feel the corner of your lips threaten to twitch up into a smile.

Sam nodded a sheepish smile on his face. "I know I don't have the best track record, but I really like you." He said with a slight blush beginning to grow on his cheeks.

Sam had told you about his experiences with love in a late-night conversation you two had shared a couple of months ago. You could understand since you also didn't have the best experiences with love either and confided in each other about it.

But at Sam's admission, you couldn't help but smile widely as Sam. You moved from Sam's side to straddle his hips. He sat up a little, and you threw your arms over his shoulders.

"Well, you're in luck because I really like you too Sam Winchester." You leaned closer and brushed your lips over his.

You felt Sam grin as you pecked his lips. "Really?" He teased, his hands resting on your bare hips as he slowly moved them against his growing bulge under the sheets.

You kissed him hard before trailing your lips down his jaw and neck. "How about I just show you?" You mumbled against his collarbone and nipped at it before your lips trailed lower and lower down his body.

Maybe calling the Winchesters for help wasn't a bad idea at all.

[deviouz]

jason todd is a thick thigh and chubby tummy lover. i will not be accepting any criticism

[crystalflygeo]

Heat haze ft Morax + fem!bunny adeptus!reader

cw/tags: heat/mating cycles, marathon sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao), Morax has a dragon penis, pet names, fucked stupid, reader calls Morax "My Lord" and Morax calls her "my child", power play??

notes: Pure self-indulgent filth <3 I love the concept of heats in general and though on applying that to adepti, then I remembered it's bunny year so why not... apparently there is a bunny in chinese mythology called the "Jade Rabbit" who serves the Moon Goddess soooo. Anyway. Breeding kink goes brrrrrr.

“M-my lord... I’m sorry I’m ah-” You gulp and try to breathe through your mouth, fingers clenching and unclenching trying to regain some semblance of stability. “I’m not feeling very… well”

Shameful. Lord Morax came to see you, probably talk about important matters regarding this year’s crops and yet-

“Is this your first heat alone?”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn, on instinct you look up panicked as your long ears stiffen in shock but just as quickly you avert your gaze, unable to look at him in the face at the revelation, and to avoid staring at his regal visage, fearful of your own reactions if you were to do so.

Oh he knows. He knows. Of course he knows. As much as you tried to suppress it your scent is probably dripping with want, especially when your thoughts were spiraling out of control mere minutes ago. Being an adeptus in heat is hard enough, but as a Jade Rabbit… it was especially hard on you.

You blink heavily, dumbly, your brain can’t keep up with all the emotions right now. You feel lightheaded but still manage to force out an answer. “N-No… no, I’m… used to it.”

Morax tilts his head and the light catches on his majestic antlers making them glow, and you find it impossible not to look “Of course.” He nods, still keeping immaculate composure. “But haven’t you found a mate yet?”

A mate. Your rabbit ears droop. Ever since you vowed to serve Lord Morax you never had time for such things, with the on-going war and protecting the humans, even as a non-combatant adeptus your duties were many. Agricultural care and development, medical support, logistics… you never had it in you to find a mate. You were devoted to your contract, and, to Lord Morax himself.

“I’m… I haven’t found the r-right one yet…” You mumble, hugging yourself and rubbing at your arm nervously in an attempt to mimic something.

“Oh my child, I’m sorry.” Morax approaches you and tentatively cups your cheek, fingers barely caressing your jaw, the touch is fleeting yet electric.

His hand is warm.

You unconsciously lean into the touch.

And he smells so good, so good.

“I could assist you, if you would allow it.”

You immediately flinch back at the words.

“W-what?!”

Morax simply blinks at you and crosses his arms, putting some distance between you two again. “I apologize if my advances are unwelcome.”

“No my lord it’s n-not that.” You can’t help but stare at his strong biceps, blackened skin accented by fine gold linings…

You try to control your breathing and think! Rationally!!

But still, you’re curious. What would it be like? To feel your God’s scent, your God’s touch, your God’s co-

You quickly shake your head. No, no! That’s indecent, scandalous! You’re not worthy, that’s…

“It’s okay, my child.”

The warm touch is back, hands placed at your shoulders, grounding you, stabilizing you. A shiver runs down your spine yet it doesn’t freeze you on the spot, rather it feels…

Tender.

You stare up at him and this time hold your gaze. He’s handsome and his eyes are the purest brightest molten gold you've ever seen, the bright diamond pupils mesmerizing.

You whine and rub your thighs together on instinct.

“My Lord… p-please…”

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Ha-aahh… f-faster, please my Lord please- Ah-! Faster!”

You’re reduced to a babbling, moaning, drooling mess as you lay on golden silk sheets. Head down ass up, your arms have long since given up supporting you and your thighs tremble as Morax rams into your dripping wet pussy over and over and over again.

He lets out a low chuckle “So tight…” He whispers, voice deep and raspy with sex haze, the scent of your heat spurring him on and causing his own illuminated beast features to manifest, such as his powerful tail undulating behind him. “You’re practically dripping all over the place, and yet you take me so well…” his breath stutters with another snap of his hips and all you can do is moan loudly, mind foggy with need.

“Oh…” You gasp. “Oh.”

Without pause, he’s slamming into you repeatedly, pulling you down on his perfect thick cock and fucking fast methodical thrusts into you wet hole, aiming for a certain spot that has you seeing stars once he finds it.

“Ah! Ah… Ah!” Your voice barely registers through your own lust-hazed mind. Tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from the rapid buildup in your lower abdomen. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already came, your juices coating your inner thighs and soiling the precious silken sheets. Not that he seems to mind. “O-Oh… Ohhhh. My Lord… M-Morax…”

You’re pretty sure your God has ruined you for anyone else. No mortal or immortal would ever be able to compare to his divine cock, deliciously thick and filling, the dragon shaft lined with small ridges that rub just right against your insides and so utterly big you swear you can feel a slight bump on your navel every time he bottoms out.

You keen and whine when his strong clawed hands pull at your hips. Seems like your legs are also giving up on you so he holds you in place instead. And you love it. His musky scent. His smooth deep voice. His unfaltering stamina.

The Prime of the Adepti. A strong and virile dragon.

And he chose to mate you.

Suddenly you feel him drape over your back, his larger frame practically caging you, pressing against you until his chest meets your sweaty back and you feel his ragged breath against your neck, scenting you and your heat pheromones before sharp fangs graze your tender skin.

You moan and your pussy clamps down on him. You are so close….

“You feel amazing.” He growls. “So good... s-so good for me.”

You buck your hips up to him, clumsily meeting his thrusts as your small fluffy tail twitches. “Nnngh!”

You feel him bite at your shoulder and the sharp jolt of pain is enough to send you spiraling into another climax, moaning high-pitched and gripping him tighter inside you even as he fucked into your slick warmth. Despite the orgasm he shows no signs of slowing down, so neither do you, as the unbearable heat continues to burn inside you, an itch you can’t quite scratch. His hands reach out for your skin, caressing your soft breasts and marveling at how beautifully they fit into his hands. He rubs circles into one of your nipples before pinching it lightly and is rewarded with another high keen and a spasm around his cock.

“P-Please… please… I need it. Please-” You pant, voice laced with desperation, your nails digging into the bedsheets.

“What do you want?” Morax asks, nosing at your neck and lapping at the reddened bite mark he branded into your skin. “Tell me what you need, little one.”

“Breed me!” You choke out “F-Fill me up Lord Morax, I need you to… fuck m-me full, pleasepleaseplease-”

And how could he deny such a sweet plea? Morax redoubles his efforts, panting with exertion and pushing harder, faster, deeper. Shrill little gasps escaping you as your mind goes blank from the pleasure.

“Hah- I’ll breed you properly… mhh… fill you up.” He pants, his pace getting sloppier, his tail trashing wildly, you feel him twitch inside you. “You’re all mine. Mine to take… to fuck, to own, to breed-”

Morax’s breath hitches and he lets out a choked groan, spilling his load inside you in thick creamy spurts as you keen and squirm under him, too fucked stupid for words. You coo happily as the heat under your skin finally abates and you feel full, so full of his seed.

His grip loosens as his hips gradually slow down, head hung low as he catches his breath, his cock occasionally twitching inside you until it eventually softens. He gently pulls out admiring the way your pussy clenches on him, the way your legs shake, weakly trying to lock him there, keep him inside you. The drag and pull of his thick cockhead over your sensitive insides making you keen and whimper from its abuse until your pliant body falls onto the sheets, whining pitifully when you feel his slick seed dribble out of your swollen pussy. You try to close your legs and weakly paw at your core.

No, no, no… it’s supposed to stay inside. Lord Morax’s precious cum-

You squeak as you feel something smooth and solid press against your pussy lips.

“Shhh my dear, shhh.” He coos at you, deep voice soothing your frazzled nerves. “This is just a little something to keep it in, to keep you full.” He pushes gently, working what you now realize was a cor lapis plug into your body. You made another whimpering noise as your lips parted for the toy he’d created for you. Red, puffy pussy folds spread open as they did for his cock, taking the tip before he worked the rest until it finally sunk in, lewdly resting against your opening, a glittering orange gemstone keeping you full. “There, nice and snug, do you like it?”

Your only answer is a little chirp, your eyes half-lidded as your body relaxes.  

“Such a good little bunny. You were so good to me my child, so good.” You smile drowsily at the praise, cooing at him as his hand pets your hair and scratches your fuzzy ear. He kisses at your shoulder and starts softly massaging your aching limbs “You were beautiful. You did so well, you took me so perfectly…”

You lean into his touch, curling up to his body, both of you still damp with sweat and other fluids. Resting for now until another wave of neediness hits you.

You both knew your heat would last at least other 4 days…

You idly wonder if by the end of the week you would be honored with carrying his offspring.

[onsunnyside]

So I stumbled over this and I just... Can you imagine cam daddy!Ari and shy!reader, coaxing her to do a stream with him, just so he can show off those big hands? Reader would be doing him such a big favour, her face won't be in it, he'll just touch her a little, "That's fine, right, bunny? Can you do this favour for me, I promise I'll be gentle..." (he adds "at first" quietly to himself because MMMPH he'd go wild for her eventually)

this is going in the fic 😵‍💫 what if I just… post the masterlist so all the asks are easy to find 🌚 totally not bc the fic is coming soon

it's the first time you're on camera, but you aren't showing your face. Just dressed in a cozy sweater and fuzzy socks, biting on the hem of your sweater to hold it up and "show everyone your pretty cunt, baby." You watch yourself through the screen, you can't read the comments without your glasses so Ari does it for you: "they're talking about how cute you sound, how small you are compared to me... someone asked if I have to force myself into your little hole."

"H-He does..." You manage, whining when he pushes away your hand to rub your swollen nub, his fingers slowly thrusting into you, "he sometimes goes slow, but I-I like it when it hurts."

"She cries when it's just the tip—it's 'cause I tease her." His beard brushes your cheek, his lips pressing soft kisses along your tear-stained skin, "she's just my little baby, my sweet dummy. Crying when daddy won't fuck you, rubbing your face all over my cock when you're needy," he laughs at a comment, "yeah, yeah, she gets real dumb. Can't even remember her own name."

He curls his fingers and hits that spot, and you cry out, your sweater dropping from your mouth. You almost fall over right there, but his other arm keeps you up and pinned against his bare chest.

"No, you won't see her like that tonight. This is just a test run, seeing if she likes it." He talks as if you aren't there, trembling on his fingers and making the most pathetic sounds. He lifts your sweater and places it between your teeth again, giving the viewers that filthy view of your drippy pussy, "and you like it, baby? You like all these people watching you cum all over daddy's fingers?"

[donutz]

What aboutttttt............ Sebastian with his daughter/son/kid? Maybe before he got experimented on he had a child but couldn't see them anymore once he got fished, and recognizes them while they're a prisoner? I'll leave age/gender up to you

Not forcing!! Thank youu

Sebastian Solace reuniting with his kid

Meeting up with your father once again...

— Omg dad time!!!😂😂

Warnings: Father issues; PLATONIC!!!!; Negative thoughts, please DO NOT take them to heart, I don't mean any of that towards you, you're an amazing person ^^; Implied depression; Thoughts of su!c!de; Angsty but not so much; Reader can't get hurt by the monsters; No mention of age or gender, but Reader is over 21; Short :P(569 words); Cliffhanger!!

Staring at the blank and reflecting submarine ground, you see yourself. Well is it really yourself? With all that gear it could be anybody else.  They sent you to that prison because of what you’ve done.

Or did you really even do it?

No of course you didn’t.

They just think what your father did passes down to you.

Framing innocent people, killing them.

Disgusting.

To cover up your ‘mistake’ you signed up for this. They would’ve killed you like every other person, you’re not special(This is a lie, you’re amazing).

You arrive at the Hadal Blacksite, the large door opening. Revealing a large working site.

Stepping out, you hear a man’s voice through the speakers above. You look up. Nothing. Are they really even above you? Maybe they’re in the walls.

Are they watching you?

Can they hear you?

Can he hear you?

Does he know where you are?

Where is he?

Where are they?

Oh yeah, look upon the task ahead of course.

‘Ugh, this anxious stuff going on really hurts’.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have signed this. Just so I could die’.

‘Being with dad sounds nice’.

You slide the keycard through the door. Door 001. You’re somewhat ready for what lies ahead. Any monsters, I mean you’re meters below the sea levels! Who knows what’s down here!

Door 020

You walked into a room, with a large window. Darkened, not really seeing much. Then a bright green light illuminates the room to your left.

Stupidly, you look at the source of light, seeing multiple green eyes with stars in them. Though they don’t affect you, at all. 

It’s.. Confused. Why won’t it affect you?

Oh. You’re his.

Nevermind then.

The shark swims away, leaving you in the dark. Again. It comes back a few times, but only to just see you.

Still, her eyes don’t affect you.

30 doors later, a vent grille quickly shoots to the other side of the room. Your tired eyes showing no fear or shock. Looking at the vent, you wait for something or someone.

“Need to stock up”?

.

.

.

What.

Now your eyes show some type of emotion.

They shrink, crinkles showing at the edge of your eyes, straightening your lips with a look of confusion on your face.

“Da—”

Your voice blanks out, your own vocal cords cutting itself off. Not from belief, you just haven’t talked for a bit. Your lips are dry, and your throat feels like a desert.

You clear your throat, going up to rub your eyes, only for your hand to bump against your visor.

Damn it.

“I have good thingss I swearrr”!! He jokes.

You walk over to the smaller space, getting down on your knees to crawl through it.

Reaching the end of it, you stand up.

“Welcome wel—”

Sebastian cuts himself off when he meets your gaze. His smile fading.

Comically, zigzags lightly shake around yours and his head, as if making some sort of connection through a radio channel. Your face makes a confused and focused look once again. While Sebastian looks surprised.

It’s silent.

You shake your head—

“Sorry— Do I know you”? You ask, cupping your sweating hand(Though it’s not like you can feel it) around the back of your neck, rubbing it.

Sebastian is taken aback, as if he recognizes that voice.

“Well I—… I just might”…

“… What’s your name”?

.

.

.

“Sebastian”.

You gasp—

“Dad”??

Short because... I'm more used to romantic stuff... And like... Yeah

[andersonfilms]

SWEET RELIEF (MINORS DNI / EIGHTEEN+)

notes. this request is a beautiful, god send. i've been wanting to write about this, but i've kinda been too scared to bc i wasn't sure if anyone would like it. nonnie, u made my week with this request nd i really hope it doesn't disappoint. i changed it a little bit, but not too much. yeahhhhh, i might be ovulating bc?????? anyways.

content desc. eighteen+, huge mommy!kink, sub!abby, dom!reader, masc coded!reader, tall!reader (coded) my lil shorties can still read it too, reader picks up abby, brief mention of reader working out, oral (abby!r), anal (just spit on), fingering, mentions of strap use, squirting, light degradation.

“you’ve been such a good girl. you deserve a reward, don’t you?” your stunner of a girlfriend was bare in front of you. she’s your personal adonis, every muscle sculpted to perfection. her abs clenching, anticipating what your next move would be. freckles scattered around her body, her pierced nipples were so sensitive from all the teasing, swollen and pink, just the way you liked them. abby’s moans were erratic, shallow breaths as you touched her everywhere except where she needs most.

“baby, please. need you to fuck me…so good. jus’ like you always do. you’re pretty little mouth, yeah? need you to taste me.” abby begged as her she found herself shivering. “i’ve been so good, so so good. i didn’t touch myself the entire two weeks you were gone. i’ll do anything, say anything. i just want you to fuck me.”

“you will, won’t you? my babygirl is so desperate to be fucked? isn’t that right?” you flick her clit with your digit. abby cries out your name, deprived of your touch for two weeks, she savors in every moment.

“god, you’re the only one who can make me come. couldn’t even if i tried without you.” as sweet and sensitive as she appears, intentional hands reach for your belt tugging at it, but you slap abby’s hands away.

“nothing is coming off until i make you cum at least….twice on my tongue. does that sound good, baby?” abby eagerly nods, not wanting to per long this any further.

you’re looking her dead in the eye, before your hands wrap around her thighs and pick her up, surprising your girl in the process.

“have you been working out?” you shrug like it’s nothing. abby leans in softly, her lips pressed against yours. she’s never been more attracted to you than she is right now. her strong legs are wrapped around your waist, clinging on as your throw her on the bed.

you climb onto to the bed with her, grabbing ahold of her hips and rotating her body so abby is sitting on her calves, legs bent, sculpted back facing you. she’s fucking divine, as she sits patiently waiting for your touch to guide her. you drinking in her beauty and for the first time, drowning has never sounded so lovely. pretty girl perfectly still for you. there’s nothing more than you need to fuck her so stupid. her cute eyebrows furrowed whenever you ask her question. abby does it when she tries to focus, but all that happens after is stuttering, maybe a fragment of a sentence, before she’s begging to let her come.

tonight isn’t going to be any different. she knows it as you sit behind her, your legs spread so her frame fits, but she doesn’t lean back. abby knows from experience you’ll punish her if she does.

“baby, i don’t think you’ve ever been this good.” you slowly undo the braid cascading down her back. her hair smiles of pine and lavender. you want to drown yourself in the scent.

abby keeps her hands at her sides, but you can tell she’s struggling. her strong hands are balled into fists, knuckles practically pearly white.

“now, bend over for me and show me your pretty hole, baby. show me what belongs to me.” you slap her ass as you lean on your hands, watching her follow your command.

the arc in her back is sinful as she supports her weight on her hands, her knees pressed against the mattress, her pretty pussy is deliciously wet. you’re itching for a taste, but not until you’ve got her a whimpering, pathetic mess.

you bent over her frame, your clothed body pressed against her exposed one. you whisper in abby’s ear, “does mommy have to show you how it’s done? apparently you’ve forgotten, babygirl.”

you create some space before placing a firm hand on her neck, planting her face first in the plush duvet. your hands trails down her spine, pressing enough so she gets the idea. abby arches her back like she’s a fucking pornstar and god you eat it up. she could turn her strength on you, the two of you know that, but she wants to shut her brain off and get fucked and you’ll happily oblige.

you kick her thighs apart further. abby whines but she doesn’t argue.

“babygirl, that’s what i’m talking about. just stay, just like this.” you slap her ass and she jolts forward, her moan caught by the duvet. your hand smooths over the skin, before slapping her again. “good girl. fuck yeah you are. hmm?”

you spit in her puckered hole, your saliva slides down and flows over her cunt. abby wants to just fuck you, wants to full her pussy on yours, she’s so sweet and you’re being a tease. it’s torture. pure fucking torture, but she just has to patient. you’re always so good to her. she knows she’ll get it eventually after you make her cum, but fuck she’s impatient and she wants it now.

for now, all she can do is beg.

“yes mommy, all yours.” abby manages to get out and you slap her cunt as a reward.

“want me to eat out this pretty cunt out? wanna feel my mouth make a mess of this pussy?” abby cries at your words, hands she loves touching the back of her thighs, inside of them, but never where she’s dripping for you.

“please, please, please. i need it so bad. you have no idea how much i missed you, mommy. couldn’t stop thinking about this.”

“thinking about what? tell me babygirl, don’t spare a single detail. you know how much i love hearing you pretty voice, abs.” you kiss her ass, as she struggles to continue. your teeth biting into her well earned glutes and you love to see the shiver wrack her body as she struggles to collect her thoughts.

“i thought about your fingers, how good they feel inside me. i-i thought about when you fucked me the last time, your cunt rubbing against mine and how good it felt. how i squirted all over you and fuck how you just keep going.” abby moaned, overcome with just the thought. “but i mainly thought about your tongue, your mouth sucking on my clit, fucking my pussy as you talk me through it.”

there it was, the soft sniffles clueing you to the tears streaming down her full cheeks. now, you could fucking ruin her.

your plump lips found home on her pussy, soft flicks of your tongue made purchase on her clit. abby was relieved at the sensation. you flattened your tongue against her vulva, her hips rotating so she was riding your skilled muscle. euphoria, it’s all abby felt. all she wanted to feel was this.

she could cum from this alone, but your middle and ring finger found her entrance easily, no resistance was met as you slide them inside her.

“mommy, you feel so good inside me. ah, yeah, right there. oh god, yes, yes, oh mommy. please don’t stop.”

“stop? is that what you said?”

“no! please…i-i need you to make me cum. please make me cum.”

“you think you deserve it?” you taunted abby, moaning against her pussy as your slurped up her sweet nectar, sending a shockwave through abby’s core.

your fingers are hitting the delicious spot deep in her pussy, and you’re hitting it over and over, not relenting for a moment. your tongue joins the whole with fingers for a moment, dipping in and it’s just enough to send abby reeling. not enough to make her cum, but she’s screaming your name, so loudly you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors abby woke up your neighbors.

“tell me how good it feels, babygirl. yeah? maybe then i’ll let you come.” you command her.

“it feels amazing, mommy. i can’t get enough of it. fucking me so good, so perfect. love being your good little slut. let you do whatever, whenever, just please don’t stop. i’m getting so close.”

“yeah, are you going to cum all over my face? on my tongue?” you grab at her clit with your lips, pulling the bud into your mouth, before flicking it over with your tongue. you circle around the pearl, isolating as you suck on it. your fingers picking up the pace brutally.

abby sounds like an angel being drained by a succubus and maybe it’s what you were. your undergarments were ruined as you humping, well nothing, because this is what it did to you. when abby got off, so did you. she’s so close, you know she is.

you pull from her clit, your thumb doing the work for you so you can press against her frame and whisper in her ear, “cum for me babygirl. yeah? that’s right. squirt all over my fingers like i know you can. such a pretty girl, aren’t you? give it to me, baby. cum right now and i’ll ride your face tonight? c’mon angel, give it to me. right now.”

she does. all over your sinful fingers, she squirts and she gushes over over you as you fuck her through. “oh baby, you’re so good. such a perfect babygirl for me.” abby’s hips ride your fingers as her body wants to collapse, but your free hand holds her left hip and supports her weight.

“feels so good, mommy. fuuuckkkkk.” abby tries to not whimper as she feels the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her like a freight train. your fingers leave and she feels empty again, but you shove your fingers in her mouth and she sucks immediately. tasting herself as your hands press against her throat.

“such a pretty baby, aren’t you? jus’ need your holes stuffed and fucked?” you laugh cynically. “now, let me ride that gorgeous face of yours, alright baby? then, i’m going to fuck this pretty pussy with my cock. would you like that babygirl?”

“please mommy.”

[aughhay]

ohma didn’t really care about the free bed of yours to sleep on tonight. but hey, he heard it’s good manners to gift something back.

nsfw warning!

“mn, oh—mn.. ngh..”

your hands kept clutching deep in the sheets, not any help to your body violently rocking to the bed’s creaky rhythm. ohma wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, he just wanted to show you how grateful he could be, really! the feeling of your tight, gushing, pretty pink walls just keep pulling him in. his muscular body shadowed over yours, facing your back as he took you from behind with his arms caging your head. you just couldn’t keep control of your self, his manly cock fucking you dumb for the first time as you spew your moans into a pillow.

you wish you could see his face, but you’re just too busy trying not to cum so soon. his grunts and groans will have to do.

“hah.. hah.. hunn..”

you can hear his mighty huffs and puffs as he sits back. the only thing audible are your whimpers when his well-endowed cock slips out of your slick hole. the headboard stops beating on the wall only for a second before his hands are on you, flipping you over on your stomach.

he’s touching you where ever, any place. your soft chest, those cute tits he can’t get enough of just keep being squeezed and groped. he’s just too in love with them, so in love that he forgets everything until he hears your whines and whimpers.

“ohmaaa. back in.. put yr’cock back in..”

“hm?”

“n—need you back inside..”

“…louder.”

first time he ever asked for something in that tone, actually, he wasn’t asking, he was telling you. telling you to be louder so he can see that the woman in front of him really needed him, really needed his body. he needed to see the proof. to see why he should be so thankful.

“shit— fu-fuck m’again ohma.. pleasee don’t tease m’like this.. need that cum..”

you were getting so desperate at this point, so needy for his dick. his cock-head sliding against your folds, giving your sweet hole gooey kisses with his tip. your hips grinding and moving, trying any method to get him back inside. and ohma is just watching, watching the girl that gave him a place to sleep tonight writhe and whine for his cock on that same bed.

but ohma doesn’t have that much of a good patience, he breaks as he finally pushes back inside you with a groan. back to that quick pace inside you with the headboard punching the wall and his cock throbbing again and again inside. you can tell he’s close to climax.

“nghn—.. where?”

“h-huh?”

“where do you want me t’cum?”

“i—inside m’pussy.. pl—please.”

even if ohma didn’t believe a higher power, he thanked them that he wouldn’t have to pull from your warm canal as he continued to pound you. ohma wasn’t the wittiest, but he could tell you were close too. the way you flicked and caressed that pretty clit of yours to your liking, your moans shooting towards him with every vibration.

“ohmaa..”

“‘m gonna cum.. ngnh!— cumming!”

you can tell that cry of his name sent him over the edge, his seed flooding you with a howl as you squirmed. you were now filled with ohma. his breaths heavy as he panted from above. staring into your seemingly hazy eyes.

“..thanks— gnh..”

not the right time for words, but the way your pussy flutters around his cock, he’ll take that as an ‘you’re welcome’.

[femd-archive]

a sub mako? overstimulated and he tends to touch us doing sexual intercourse, so tied up? 💋.

sorry for taking to long to reply (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥) but here it is! <3

ONE MORE

pairing: the legend of korra — mako x fem!reader

word counting: 0.9k

content warning: masturbation (male and female) | overstimulation | teasing | use of petnames like baby and precious | vaginal sex | unprotected sex | creampie | subtle dumbification? | mako is so whiny <3

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes

You couldn't help the grin that draws on your lips as you watch Mako's ruined face. He has his head throwed back, his bottom lip swollen from how much he bited it down to hide his moans and you could see the marks of dry tears left on his cheeks. It was refreshing to see the always-serious Mako ruined by your simple touch.

You leave a kiss on his cheek, resuming your hand strokes on his hard cock, squelching sounds coming out from each movement. The amount of lub mixed with the last three times he had cummed in the last hour make such delicious wet sounds. "Does it feel good, baby?" you ask, watching every detail on his body.

The veins and muscles of his arms pop up every now and then from how often he's clenching his hands behind his back. He's so use to be all over you when you guys are having sex, that you can tell by his body lenguage that being restrained on the chair by thight ropes is killing him. He looks up at you, glossy eyes begging you to stop, but his lips don't move to say his safeword once.

"Please...please precious" he calls out in a whimper. His erratic breath makes his cum-covered tummy clench constantly, making you able to see his abs every now and then as well.

"Mmh? What do you want, baby? Do you want me to stop?" you ask, using your free and clean hand to comb his hair back in a loving gesture. You see him nod, little whimpers coming out of his pouting lips. You copy them and talk to him in a mocking tone, teasing him. "Why is that, love? Doesn't it feel good?" as you ask again, you move your wrist in circular motions, rubbing the palm of you hand on his tip, making Mako's whole body twitch from the overstimulation, and little moans and whimpers start falling freely from his lips.

"It does! It does..." he cries out, "'s just t-too much" he says, but at the same time, he bucks his hips into your closed fist, searching for friction. How cute!

You let out a quiet chuckle before kissing the corner of his lips. Already half naked, you climb into his lap and align his wet tip into your equally wet pussy. "One more, mmh? Give me one more, baby. Inside of me"

You easily sink on him, making Mako throw his head back once again. His arms flex again, a reflex of wanting to wrap his arms around your waist and thrust into you, but he couldn't, and for that, he whimpers.

"I know, I know baby. It'll be over soon" you wrap your arms around his neck, starting to bounce on him at the same time you move in and take his lips on a heated kiss.

Mako's moans drown in your lips. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he feels your gummy walls wrap around his length, feeling his tip hit that squishy spot inside you over and over as your hips start moving in a quicker pace.

"Fuck..." you mutter, slidding a hand between your bodies to rub on your clit. Mako watches you with wide adoring eyes. You looked so beautiful lost in pleasure.

"Gonna cum" he whispers, voice already worn out to cry more.

"Yeah?" you whisper back, kissing his cheek. "Cum for me baby. Cum inside me"

And Mako didn't need any more permission than that. His hips buck up as he release his fourth orgasm inside you, whimpers and moans falling out of his lips as his body twitches, barely handling the overstimulation anymore. He cries when you don't stop bouncing and keep on riding him for a little longer, chasing after your orgasm as you were so close.

"I know baby, I know. Hold it up for me, yeah? Just a little longer..." you mutter, going back to rubbing your sensitive clit again. You close your eyes, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm coming. "Fuck...fuck" you cry, moving your hips hurriedly, closing your eyes as you cum all over Mako's cock, who's watching you with half-lidded eyes and a fuzzy mind.

Your moves come to a stop and, exhausted, you throw yourself on Mako's limp body, circling his neck with your arms and hiding your face in the crock of his neck. Both of your chests move up and down with an uneven breath, taking your time to calm yourselves down.

"Mako? Are you okay, baby?" you ask after a while, pulling away from the cuddling position to take a look to your boyfriend's face. He was still pretty much out of it, but he had energy to throw a grin at your way.

"You almost milked me dry, precious" he slurred the words out of his mouth, making an effort to speak clearly.

You chuckle. "I take that as you're okay then?"

"Better than okay" he answers with a smile, before pursing his lips, silently asking for a kiss. And of course you give it to him.

"Good thing you have a day off tomorrow, because you're gonna be sore for a while" you comment as you undo the ropes around his wrist, finally letting him free. "Let's take a shower" you're already walking to the bathroom as you say that, feeling Mako's cum starting to run down your thigh.

"Uhm, baby?" Mako calls out for you.

"Yeah?"

"I can't feel my legs"

[liliewrites]

So reader is childhood frnds with both arle & clervie(we can't forget this girlie), but like reader has this talent that lets her blend into the background with no one knowing like she's even there. This trio literally stick tgt everyday like if someone sees 1 of them they know the other 2 aint that far behind. So reader & arle had this obvious crush on each other(not that they r gonna say anything but its so obvious to eveyone who saw them cus they r kids). Reader then got sent to Fontaine from Snezhnaya to snoop around for info (this is b4 KingMaking). So while reader is snooping for info, KingMaking happens as canon & arle tried to find reader after she became a harbinger cus like she lost clervie alrdy & she just wants to know reader is still safe ya know. But like obviously arle couldn't find cus reader's talent of 'blending' works damm well. So arle got transferred to Fontaine for the gnosis, happened to find reader by 100% coincidence while on a walk, grabbed reader, carried her all the way to the hearth, had a VERY long conversation about what happened & decided to finally confessed to reader about the crush that has never fade despite being separated for so long.

💫anon

HALLLLOOOOOOOO 💫 ANON:DD i hope i do ur ask justice n feed all of u the good ol' slowburn n mutual pining w arlecchino:DD eat up!! also, i changed smth a little bit for the sake of the plot if u don't mind, but overall, it shouldn't make too much of a difference! tyy for requestingggg!! i feel like this isn't my best portrayal of arlecchino though huhuawkajdwas

-warning/s ; maybe ooc, clervie's death mentioned.

-pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader

(men please dni utc!)

peruere didn't know what to do.

peruere didn't know that the last word's clervie to you would be "byebye, y/n! make sure to come back home safely, okay??"

peruere stared at her hands with an absent stare, her mind in full delirium as she just realized the atrocities she'd just commit. the children of the house of the hearth has fallen- and she was the only one left.. along with you. knowing her mother, she knew what she had done to clervie would eventually happen to you.

she wasn't going to lose you too.

thankfully, you were currently absent from the scene- as "mother" had assigned you on a mission somewhere within teyvat but she knew as soon as you came back you'd be suffering the same fate as the others if she didn't act soon enough.

her mind finally met with clarity, she picked up her sword- the very same sword that bore her sins against your friends and siblings.

the next day, you heard what had happened back at.. home. the house of the hearth was no more.

peruere had been arrested, mother crucabena had been killed by peruere. you didn't believe it at first, but when you also heard that the rest of the children had died a year prior to crucabena's death- you knew peruere had lost her wits at the last minute.

you were disoriented for a moment, unsure of what to do now that you had nowhere to come back home to, but you mostly worried about peruere. you thought of what they would do to her, you didn't want to lose her too. she's all you had left.

with a heavy heart, you never went back home. you had no choice but to use your ability to blend in within the street kids of sumeru, just so no one would recognize you especially the fatui agents that roamed the streets from time to time. you spent a few years within the streets, taking advantage of your expertise in the field of gathering information with your stealth and earned yourself a living off of it.

however, you just couldn't shake peruere out of your mind. constantly, she was on your mind like a nail lodged in your head. especially when the full moon had gleamed upon you it's blessed and gentle caress and had brought you comfort, did peruere witness it's beauty? or was she as lonely and lost as the moon in the vast darkness of it's own solitude akin to her own isolation within the confinements of her prison cell? it worried you greatly.

after a few years, you'd caught news of the newly appointed harbinger named arlecchino whom had inherited your "mother's" title, the knave.

there were different rumors that surrounded the harbinger, but they all pointed to her committing a massacre, calling her the "poor, mad and cursed" knave.

your chest thumped, you had a strong feeling you knew it was peruere yet you couldn't confirm it yet. you haven't seen any photos of the new knave, except for the fact that she's been stationed in fontaine within the newly rebuilt house of the hearth.

confirmed or not, you knew it was her-- it had to be. so you had immediately began to prepare for your trip back to fontaine with haste.

unbeknownst to you, said harbinger had been looking for you first thing when she had gotten out of prison. she knew you would have fled fontaine entirely as she had intended, but was also aware of your proficiency when it comes to hiding your identity. she knew it would be hard to find you, but she still carried on. she couldn't let the kids handle this, lest she could risk the freedom you had now from the life of being a fatui (which she hoped you had). so she could only hope, if there really was a deity out there that would hear her, that you were safe and alive and well.

you were, in fact, safe and alive and well. now you were taking your first few steps into the city of fontaine. when, honestly, as a child you've never been able to experience the city despite spending your childhood within it's region. "mother" had never let you leave the orphanage, not until you were "of age" to join the official ranks of the fatui.

you looked around, mesmerized by the people and their lavish clothing. the weather was much different from sumeru as well. despite not growing up within the city, however, you caught whiffs and scents of your favorite cakes from your childhood. truly, you may or may not be fontainian by blood, but at least you were by heart.

you spent the first few days, getting yourself to blend in within fontaine's society. you were still afraid and wary of the fatui, especially with how strict "mother" was to you which formed your impressions of the organization. eventually, after getting a place to stay, getting accustomed to the city and dressing yourself in the same clothes as them- you could now officially, once again, call yourself a fontainian.

however, the reason why you came here in the first place was still on the very top of your head, you had to see peruere no matter what. you kept your eyes open for any signs of her monotone colored hair. you kept your ears alert if you'd catch any drift of her name, peruere or arlecchino, to no avail.

you let out a sigh, feeling unsuccessful. you weren't about to give up, but decided that you should rest and call it a day. it was getting late, so you had gotten up from the bench you were sitting on to go and head back to the inn you were staying at.

.. then suddenly, you had been robbed of your sight then consciousness.

your eyes fluttered open, but your eyesight had been blurry. the first thing you've realized is that your feet was off the ground and you were being lifted up on the air. your fight response kicked in, and you had tried to wriggle your way out of your captor's grasp.

"let go of me-"

immediate silence. you knew those eyes as she looked down at you. just from her look alone, you knew she had sent you a warning to stay silent.

but that wasn't the reason why you were still, it was because of those those x shaped pupils of hers that bore into your soul that you've come to love.

".. p-peruere? is that.. you?"

she froze for awhile, before continuing on walking.

"later. we can't talk here, keep your face hidden."

you nodded, returning back to your tucked position as she carried you in her arms. you could feel your heart thumping, beating- you've never felt this way since you've last seen her.

once you've arrived at your destination, you noticed that she's brought you within a building. a private study room, it seems. she carefully placed you down on the couch, before sitting on the chair in front of you. you've finally had a full view of her, and both of you had eyes full of shock at the sight of each other.

you were the first one to shatter the silence, immediately tearing up and throwing yourself in her arms. for a while, she awkwardly placed her hand on your waist. you couldn't help but let out a fond chuckle. after all these years, she still acted as if hugging was an alien thing.

you leaned back again, sniffing. she's definitely went through a lot. the apathetic look on her face was much more hardened, more sharper. she looked intimidating, especially with her upright stance and poise of a full fledged military officer. which in her position's case, she was.

she reached out to grab your hand. feeling you, touching you, as if to make sure that you really really were alive and in front of her.

see, the knave was not one to show emotion since she was a child, and you knew that.. but the way she acted now, it bothered you.

".. what happened? where have you been?"

she asked, pulling away from you to regain her composure. her voice was much more deeper now compared to a few years ago. you couldn't help but blush at the sound of it. the way she talked, it lacked warmth, she sounded stiff and stern.

"me? why ask me- what about you?! you're a harbinger now, pers!"

you exclaimed, causing her heart to still for a moment as you called her by that affectionate nickname she hasn't heard in a while. "i'll explain to you, sit."

her way of speaking was much more commanding, more authoritative, but it didn't scare you. rather, you were astonished at how much more polished she's been after all these years.

you sat down next to her, listening to her relay to you the past events that have happened while you two have been apart. she spoke in such a way that she sounded like she was reporting a mission or an assignment, making you feel amused even more as you listened to her speak.

your peruere has really grown up a lot, hasn't she? it made you think that you were wrong, maybe she's not peruere anymore. it made sense, she was called arlecchino now. it made you feel like you've truly lost her forever.

"i see. i'm happy to hear that the tsaritsa has pardoned you, our tsaritsa is truly blessed.." you muttered, looking away as you sighed. arlecchino noticed the melancholic twinkle in your eyes, causing worry to stir within her. "is there something wrong?" she asked, yearning for you to look at her again.

she wouldn't say it out loud, but she missed you, dearly.

you were silent for a few seconds, before letting go of her hand. the look in your eyes made her feel dread-- dread at the thought that you now hate her for killing clervie, for killing "mother", for destroying the place you had once called your "home".

arlecchino was used to being called a monster, a murderer, a freak by many and she could take it.. but from you? oh, it tore her apart. she felt like she'd truly lost you for good.

you looked at her, wanting to ask her if she was still your peruere.

she reached out again, wanting to make it clear to you that it had to be done to protect you.

"do you loath-" "-my peruere?"

both of you had talked at the same time but arlecchino heard your words loud and clear. she just had to hear it again for confirmation. "..pardon?" she asked, blinking at you in confusion.

slightly embarrassed at the thought of being a grown woman whom still referred to her affectionately as "your" peruere after all these years, you really didn't want to ask again, but you needed assurance.

so in a smaller, more hushed voice, you asked again.

"are.. you still my peruere?"

".. you don't hate me?" she asked, a bit dumbfounded that out of all the things you could say, that was the first thing that came our your mouth. it should've been obvious that she's yours, she always has been and she always will be.

"why would i hate you, per- arlecchino? you're my best friend..!" you exclaimed, a bit dumbfounded for her to think that you hated her. you weren't blind to "mother's" ways of raising children. it would've happened either way.

you started to tear up a little, calling her arlecchino felt bitter to the tongue. you've waited all these years, looked for her high and low, and now that you've seen her again.. it felt like you were facing a different person.

all the fears that had built up within arlecchino through all these years had drifted away. you didn't hate her. you didn't resent her for killing clervie. for ruining everything. she was glad that you were still the same woman she loved.

she pulled you in for a hug, albeit a bit awkward, she pulled you in as close as she could. "of course. of course i'm still your peruere. just.. refrain from calling me that in public." she told you, wiping away your tears with her hand.

her hand- her hand, oh archons! "pers, what happened?!"

you exclaimed in horror, grabbing her hand and carefully examining it. you knew of her curse, and it seems that it has taken over her. "worry not. it's been years since the curse had fully manifested, i am fine now" she reassured you, then, holding your hand in hers.

".. did you mean it when you called me yours?" she immediately asked after, looking down at your intertwined fingers. her thumb swiping against yours in a soothing manner.

"why of course, pers, you're my best friend!" you told her, your cheeks becoming flushed as she held your hand in a rather.. more affectionate manner.

"no, no. what if i wanted you to call me yours in a different way?"

she then looked up at you again. her eyes were filled with conviction, with a subtle hint of desperation and enamor. "i'm a woman who's dull to the concept of loss after having witnessed many losses and failures.. but you, i've lost you once. i cannot bear to lose you again. please stay, mon amour." her voice wavered for a moment as she held on to your hand tightly. "please, y/n." her face did not show it, but with the longing stare in her eyes, the way she held at your hand. she was devastated at the thought of losing you again.

your heart broke at the sight of her. you knew, she was still your peruere. within your presence, arlecchino was gone. within your presence, she is peruere. the same one whom would eat your favorite cakes with cakes with you, the same one who would cling on to your shirt as she followed you around, the same one who'd let you use her as your blade in a fight even if she knew you were capable of fending off on your own. arlecchino wasn't asking you to stay while professing their love to you, it was peruere.

you smiled at her, leaning in to lean your forehead against hers.

"of course, pers. i'm here to stay. i've found you again, i'm never going away. i'm glad to be home." you whispered, feeling that familiar warmth from her presence that you've come to know and love. "home?" she asked, a bit curious as to what you meant. "did you mean the orphanage? the current house of the hearth is much different from what we've grown up to, mon amour." she told you, your heart fluttering at her calling you that way. "no, silly. i mean you, pers. no shelter nor place can compare to the warmth and safety that you provide." you muttered and arlecchino let out a soft sigh.

"is that so? then.. i'm glad to be your home." she closed her eyes, basking in the moment of having you near her after so many years of separation. "then i am proud to be the one you call home. for as long as these flames course through my veins, i will always keep you warm and safe." she mumbled as you closed your eyes as well, relishing in the long lost comfort you've longed for.

"still.. i'm happy that for once, my flames have brought a different feeling than fear.." "yeah.. we still have to work on your hugging though.. seriously, pers. you're bad at hugging!" "what- can you blame me? i was never one for affection!"

[moonstruckme]

hi! i have a request, but not for a specific character, you can pick who you want to write about i just ask that it’s not about any of the stranger things characters😅 but could you write something just pure and fluffy and sweet with a plus size!reader please? there is a serious lack of just pure plus size!reader fanfics, almost all of the ones i find are smut and it makes me quite sad because i’m currently not able to read smut because of mental health reasons🥹 i just want to read something so sweet and pure and loving with a plus size!reader and her man just loving her softness and curves.

Hi sweetheart! I hope this is alright <3

Sirius Black x plus size!reader ♡ 822 words

You’re innocently reading when cold fingers try to jimmy into the crease between your thighs. You squeal. “Sirius, don’t! Shit, your fingers are freezing.” 

He pouts. Even with his pretty lips and freakishly long lashes, the expression doesn’t work on you like it used to. Sirius has worn it out. “Exactly,” he whines. “They’re cold, and you’re so warm. Quit being selfish.” 

“So get a blanket like a normal person,” you chide. “Don’t make your cold fingers my problem.” 

Sirius scowls. “I thought my problems were your problems. Isn’t that, like, the point of a relationship?” 

You lower your book to give him a look. “That’s an awfully self-serving idea of what a relationship is supposed to be, Siri.” 

He huffs, reaching the whole two feet to grab the blanket you’ve strewn over the armchair. “Fine. You must have me in your thrall or something, you know that? I used to get whatever I wanted. Where did it all go so wrong?” 

“Not sure.” You flip your page idly, though you’re not really reading anymore. Just baiting your boyfriend, as you are wont to do. “Maybe when you stopped trying to woo me.” 

Sirius gasps, and your book is torn from your hands. He sets it on the table, and you both pretend he hasn’t done it with care, saving your page. “How dare you! I woo you every day of the week.” 

“Mmm.” You try to look unimpressed, but you know he can see the smile you’re fighting. “I don’t feel very wooed when you try to use me as a human heating pad.” 

SIrius’ grin comes out to play. You take that as permission to release your own. “Aw, m’sorry, lovely girl,” he croons, bending to brush his lips over the place on your thigh where his fingers had clawed for entry a minute before. “Have I not been telling you how wonderful you are often enough?” 

You bite your lip against the giggle bubbling up your throat. “You could stand to do it more.” 

“My pretty baby.” Sirius grips the fat of your hips, pulling himself upward to kiss you on the lips. “My sweet, darling angel, do you know how much I love you?” He moves to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, just under your eye, kiss-kiss-kissing all up and down your face. 

Your giggles escape, and you break, hands touching his waist to keep him close. “I do,” you admit happily. “I love you too.” 

“No, but not nearly as much as I love you.” His voice wilts with a dejection that’s entirely for show, leaning back to bat his too-long eyelashes at you pitifully. “You really have no idea, do you? You silly thing. I think I need to show you more often.” 

You’re quiet, shaking with silent laughter Sirius pretends not to notice. 

“I love you here,” he says, palms rubbing soothingly up and down your thighs, “but for more than just because they’re so warm. And I love you here” —his hands slide over the material of your shirt, up your waist, dipping lovingly into each rolling curve— “and here” —he follows the path to your broad shoulders, squeezing lightly before continuing upwards to cup your face— “and I love—baby, are you paying attention? This is important—I love you here.” He pecks you on the lips. “Love love love you, gorgeous. I love you here, too.” He kisses your nose, then presses his lips to your forehead. “I love you here most of all,” he says, words all mushed up against your skin. “Do you believe me now?” 

“Sirius,” you say softly, face now infinitely warmer than it had been a minute ago, back when you’d been under the impression that you were the one teasing him. “Of course I believe you.” 

“Good.” He gives your head one more firm kiss before backing off, giving you one of those sweetheart, earnest smiles he keeps locked away for special occasions. “It’s important that you know, you know?”

“Mhm,” you say, and his grin widens at your shyness. It takes a lot for him to make you this bashful these days, so your flush is a victory for him. “This was all a part of your grand scheme, wasn’t it?” 

Sirius blinks at you. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

You stare him down for a few seconds before sighing. “Fine, you can use my legs to warm your hands.” 

“Yes!” He wastes no time, worming his fingers into the soft inner part of your thighs. You tense at the cold. “I prefer not to think of it as using you. More like affection that also happens to have utility, yeah?” 

“Sure.” You roll your eyes, fighting a shiver as you pick your book up from the coffee table. “It’s like you said, you get whatever you want.” 

Sirius leans forward, pecking you sweetly on the lips. “You know it, babe.”

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Thoughts on how reader would fluster Wilson?

*rubs hands together evilly* oh, I have plenty of thoughts on this anon, believe me

How the reader would fluster James Wilson

Warnings: the reader is a massive flirt, Wilson's very easily flustered (which is a surprise to no one), very mild swearing, I'm pretty sure that's it

Honestly it's not very difficult to get this man flustered at all. Yes he's a manwhore, but he can get a little shy at times, especially if it's with someone who's being incredibly forward with their advances

Something as simple as an innocent touch or a playful compliment will have him blushing enough as it is, but if you're actively trying to get him flustered then he'll be much less composed

Innocent touches on his back or arm end up lasting longer than they probably should, and playful compliments come across as a lot more pointed and sincere

Wilson won't protest much even if he does feel uncomfortable with a person's advances (*cough* because he's a massive people pleaser *cough*) but assuming he feels comfortable with you he'll most likely just brush it off as you being overly friendly and try to ignore the way his face heats up whenever you act flirtatious

Speaking of being flirtatious, please flirt with this man. There's a good 50/50 that he'll actually reciprocate with a flirty comment of his own, but even if he doesn't it's so fun to see him stammer over his words as he tries to come up with a response

Another surefire way to make his face turn red while getting him all tongue tied is to be physically affectionate. He's definitely touch starved, even after being married three different times (though to be fair he didn't really spend any time with his wives so that's probably one of the reasons why)

Give him random hugs, fiddle with his tie, mess with his hair, etc. After a while he gets used to it but that still won't stop a faint blush from rising on his cheeks when it happens

He might lightheartedly complain about it but if you offer to stop then he'll take it as a threat more than a suggestion and won't bring it up again, even if he'd rather you not wrap your arms around him while he's trying to speak with a patient

And if you happen to surprise him one day with a kiss? Oh boy. It could be as brief and casual as possible and he'll still stand there for several minutes afterwards trying to figure out what the hell just happened

Want to get him really flustered? Wear something revealing. If you're fem presenting, a short skirt and stockings will do the trick, and if you're masc presenting then a tight button up and rolled up sleeves will work perfectly. Even better if you do both or switch between the two

He'll try to pretend like he doesn't notice but it's obvious he does from the not-so-subtle looks he sends your way and how he quickly looks away if you notice he's staring. Don't even bother asking him about it, as he'll just play dumb and change the subject instead of giving you a real answer, not that you need one

Lord help him if you decide to "accidentally" drop something and have to bend down in order to pick it back up again. That's one of the few times he'll forget his manners completely and just watch you in awe. Asking if he "likes what he sees" directly afterwards is almost certain to give him a heart attack, but I suggest you do it anyway. You know, for fun

End notes: I promise I'm working on my other Wilson requests you guys I didn't forget about them I swear

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