#plus size evening gowns | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivwritescrappythings · 2 months ago

Text

king of the joust

knight!könig x plussize!fem!reader

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

you go to a tourney, a knight you’ve never seen before wants your favor

an: this could become a series—not sure, just wanted to write this. inspired by a drawing of könig by @whocaresabouttactical that i just could not get out of my head (your work is amazing btw).

tw: fem reader, plus size reader

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

—

Tourney days were the worst of all.

It always devolved into madness��your mother devoted to getting your sister prepared enough to catch a knight’s eye. You primped and pinched and cinched all morning, stuffing her into a dress she could hardly breathe in and pulling the corset strings tight.

You were dressed similarly, your gown far less expensive and hair left loose around your face rather than the intricate braided style she wore. It was not worth it to spend the time on your attire. Your sister was older by a year and the prettier of the two of you, securing a marriage swiftly was becoming one of the most important things in her life.

You were welcomed with the other noble families beneath the tented area of the stands, your parents headed toward the back to greet your brothers and their wives as you milled near the front railing with your sister. She was staring dreamily at the arena.

The knights were already out, walking with their horses and talking with their squires.

“Do any catch your eye?” you asked, watching your sister’s gaze flicker over the armored men below. Some had their helmets off, casting charming smiles into the stands of onlookers. You could hear young ladies giggling around you.

“Maybe Ser Garrick,” she said after a few moments of contemplation. You followed her stare, seeing him speaking to another knight with his helm still on, the face of it shaped like a skull.

He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. If anything, you were surprised he was a knight. He looked as though he had never seen a day of battle, his skin smooth and clear, no lines of worry etched into his face to match those of his companions.

You hummed, nodding. “He certainly is pretty,” you murmured with a giggle. Your sister rolled her eyes, embarrassed as she shyly agreed.

You could see it, the two of them married with an estate and children of their own. Rumors of Ser Garrick promised that he was kind, if not a bit vain. But your sister was vain, too—it would be perfect.

You both had favors: your sister kept running her fingers over the crimson scarf she’d brought with her while you twisted your woven laurel of leaves and flowers and ribbon over your wrist. You knew someone would ask for your sister’s favor—she was so beautiful that men would pine for her even if she were common born.

It would not be a stretch to assume that you would be bringing your favor home with you. You were of marrying age, but destined to be a spinster. It was your nature to let your sister shine, often lingering along the edges of the room or in her shadow.

The horns signaling the tourney was about to start pulled you from your reverie as your sister yanked you into the seat next to hers. Right in the front.

While you hated tourney days, jousting sent a thrill through you like no other—you often were halfway out of your seat, peering over the railing as you watched the knights. The horses were huge and sleek, their muscles rippling beneath their coats as they charged. The splitting sound of lances on shields echoes through the arena filled you with adrenaline as though you competed amongst them.

The knights trotted just below the stands, calling up to girls between bouts and earning favors. Your sister practically fainted when Ser Garrick shouted up to her, his lance resting on the railing in front of you. You had to shove her forward.

“My sister was telling me that you look rather gallant this morning, Ser Garrick,” you said, smiling sweetly at her as you nudged her with your elbow. The mortification was clear in her expression before she tweaked it into a smile as she nodded primly.

Ser Garrick laughed, the sound clear and deep. “Well, I would be pleased to have your sister’s favor if she is offering it,” he said, gaze focused on her.

You bumped her again, finally snapping her out of her shock. She smiled demurely, producing the scarf she had tied into a circle. The fabric was wispy and light, the baby pink contrasting with his black and red lance as she looped it over the end and let it slide down to the pommel. “I wish you luck,” she said, batting her eyelashes prettily at the knight.

“I thank you, my lady,” he called back up to both of you, smiling at your sister and nodding to you before bringing the visor of his helmet down and going to take his place.

You fell back to your seat with your sister, her hand wrapped around your arm as she squealed. Her excitement was plain to read, the grin on her face and the sparkle in her gaze said more than enough as she pitched into you. Her laugh was absorbed in your shoulder as you chuckled.

You never doubted that he would gaze at her.

Ser Garrick jousted admirably, defeating his opponent in just a few bouts. You could not be bothered to know who it was, only that his armor was dented as he was cleared away with his horse in tow.

The rest of the morning blended into listening to your sister blather on about Ser Garrick and the crack of lances on shields and breastplates. It was easy to stop listening, making soft sounds of agreement and occasional nods of understanding as you twisted your favor around in your grip. You knew if you listened you would only feel jealous.

Your thoughts wandered, pondering the way the bodice of your dress cinched in your soft stomach, the sleeves of your gown loose until they gathered at your wrists to cover the gentle slope of your shoulders and the extra flesh on your upper arms. You rested your chin on your hand, trying to subtly pull back the softness of your jaw. There was no hiding that you did not look like your waif of an older sister.

You knew that. The difference between you two was easy to feel, to understand. The way eyes glazed and shifted over you as though you were not there, as though you did not deserve to be there. The whispers of your parents discussing arranging a marriage with one of your father’s friends haunted you. But lords and knights and even common boys looked right past you regardless of your noble blood.

“Sister.” The sharpness of her tone brought you out of your spiral of self-pity. She was staring at you, eyes wide.

“Yes?” you asked, blinking a few times as you sat up in your seat.

There was a lance resting on the railing.

“I think he means to get your attention.”

Your brow furrowed, the words took a few moments to make sense before you stood. You placed your hands on the polished wood, carefully peering over.

The knight below was one you had never seen before. He was huge, limbs thick with muscle beneath his dark armor. The warhorse beneath him was large to accommodate him, dwarfing the other horses and squires. He wore no helm, holding it on his thigh as his other hand steadied the lance. But you still did not see his face, a black cloth with two circles cut for the eyes covering his head.

Like an executioner.

“You wished to see me, Ser…” you trailed off, waiting for an introduction.

His blue eyes simply crinkled at the corners like he was smiling beneath the shroud, he nodded. Then his hand left his helm carefully balanced on his leg, retrieving something from near his stirrup.

In a flash it was tossed up to you, harmlessly glancing off your arm. Your sister practically dove to retrieve the object, showing you a stuffed bear with a perplexed look on her face. It was small, but crafted nicely. There were two little X stitches for the eyes, no mouth or other features stitched onto the soft fabric.

Your brow furrowed as you reached out for it, turning the bear in your hands with care. It was sweet.

The knight was watching you carefully, seemingly waiting for your reaction. You could feel your cheeks warming, a threat smile made the corner of your lip twitch. You had never received a gift from a man that was not a member of your family.

Your sister cleared her throat. You were taking too long.

“Well, I suppose a favor for a favor is in order,” you said, loud enough for the knight to hear you below.

His eyes crinkled at the corners again. Another nod.

You took your favor of weaved flowers and grasses and ribbons scraps, pressing a kiss to the leaves before looping it over the edge of his lance and watching it fall toward him. The colors of the foliage matched the forest green spiral painted on the wood.

“I wish you luck,” you said, clutching the bear in one hand as you leaned over the railing.

He was looking at the favor, running his gloved fingers touching the ribbons and caressing the flower petals. Then his attention was returned to you, he tapped the lance against the railing one, two, three times.

It felt like a thanks.

You watched him settle his helmet over his head before returning to your seat. The shocked expression on your face was mirrored by your sister, the two of you staring at the small stuffed bear in your hands.

A gift from a knight was unheard of at a tourney. Maybe a gift would suit a marriage proposal, or an attempt at courting. But not a simple tourney day.

And not from a knight you had never even seen before.

The smash of a lance against a shield made you look up, watching the knight’s opponent go crashing off his horse. And it continued. Every competitor that faced him ended up bested, sprawling across the dirt.

One pulled his sword, the mystery knight sliding off his horse to meet the challenge. He was taller than you anticipated, standing a full head over his opponent as he drew the sword from his hip. It was hardly a contest, the smaller man made to yield after being quickly disarmed and a blade at his throat.

It was only at the end of the day you learned his name. Ser Kilgore—it was announced proudly across the arena in light of his victory. Whispers calling him “King of the Joust” carried as you found your parents and prepared to leave.

You kept looking over shoulders and heads in the crowd, standing on your tiptoes to try to get a glimpse of Ser Kilgore. The fluttering at the pit of your stomach already told you all you needed to know—you wanted to see him again.

It was only in the carriage back to your estate that you noticed the stitching on the leg of the bear, black and a bit clumsy.

KÖNIG.

#konig x reader #knight!konig #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig cod #medieval au #konig x plus size reader #plus size reader #cod x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #reader insert

708 notes · View notes

drabblesandsnippets · 5 months ago

Text

Breathe

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Really? Here?!” | [Someone Else’s House | Public Bathroom | Mile High Club] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (4k) During a wedding reception, Bucky and his fiancée sneak off to have some fun.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Established relationship. Fluff. Wedding talk? Vague alluding to Bucky’s trauma/past. Bucky’s a switch? Pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart). Oral (both receiving)/swallowing. Fingering.

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

Bucky always looks good to her - whether he’s in jeans and a henley or nothing at all - but there’s something about seeing him dressed to the nines. The fitted tux, the styled hair, the neatly trimmed beard. She rarely gets to see him dressed up like this and she can’t keep her eyes off him, watching him from the across the room while he talks to their friends.

She’s still not entirely sure why they got roped into making an appearance at this wedding reception - none of them know the couple - but she’s not exactly questioning it at this specific moment, no matter how uncomfortable she feels in such a formal setting.

And while Bucky might feel just as out of place here as she does, it’s making her think about their own upcoming wedding. Their plans don’t include anything nearly as fancy as this black-tie event, but as she watches him readjust his cuffs, she’s starting to reconsider.

She can’t help imagining all the things she’s going to let this man to do her on their wedding night and her inappropriate thoughts only intensify as her eyes drift from Bucky’s fingers to his mouth, watching him take a sip of his drink. Then the tip of his tongue licks the remaining drop of liquid off his lips and she’s flooded by images of their morning shower, heat immediately pooling between her thighs, making her wish it was time to go.

It’s been like this the past few weeks since Bucky proposed - even before that really, but they’ve been insatiable lately. Unable to keep their hands off each other, finding every excuse to cancel plans and stay home. It’s where they should be tonight, but they couldn’t get out of this.

Just as a flush creeps up her chest, Bucky meets her gaze, the grin on his face making her feel like she can read her mind. With a quick glance at their friends, he takes his leave, his eyes not leaving hers again as makes his way back to their table, the look on his face not making it easy for her to think pure thoughts.

They’ve only been apart for a couple minutes, but Bucky never needs an excuse to return to her, the magnetic pull to be as close to her as possible constantly driving him. And, as much as he wants to take her home right now, he can’t deny how much he’s enjoyed getting to show her off tonight.

She may not feel like it, but she belongs here, the numerous eyes on her throughout the evening proving she fits right in. Her satin gown showing off her endless curves, the fabric dipping low enough to show just a hint of cleavage.

The angle at which Bucky approaches the table gives him more than just a hint though, her seated position causing her breasts to almost spill out of her dress, immediately drawing his attention. And then she smiles that smile at him. The one that reminds him how lucky he is.

Since the moment he met her, she’s brought nothing but sunshine and beauty to his life. Even during times like this - when he’s so out of his element, having to pretend to celebrate the nuptials of two people he doesn’t care about - she makes it all bearable.

His tux might feel too restricting, the bow tie secured around his neck making him feel like he can’t draw a deep breath, but it’s okay as long as he’s with her. As long as he can continue to look at her, feel her, breathe her in, he’s sure he can make it through the evening.

Bucky ignores the urge to reach up to pull at what essentially feels like a leash around his neck, and keeps his focus on his beautiful fiancee, once again overcome with the familiar need to be as close to her as possible. With his flirtatious smile growing, he sets his glass down on the table and offers out his hand to ask her, “May I have this dance?”

She’s never been much for dancing, but she can never resist Bucky, especially when he’s like this. Tonight’s been hard for him, but he still goes out of his way to be romantic, to try to make the evening about them, wanting her to feel like she belongs here.

They’ve barely stepped foot on the dance floor before they’re in each others arms, both of them visibly relaxing the moment their bodies are touching. They allow themselves to get lost in the intimate moment, ignoring any responsibility they feel to socialize with the guests. They’d much rather socialize with each other anyway.

After a tender kiss to her forehead, Bucky murmurs, “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” She didn’t have to come and he’s planning to show her how grateful he is when they get home tonight.

Her eyelashes flutter as she soaks in his affection and she gives him a warm smile, blaming the romantic atmosphere for her sappy reply of, “I’m always happy to be your plus one.”

The sound of his soft laughter makes her heart skip a beat, and her own laughter joins his when he tells her, “You're signing up for forever sweetheart, I’m going to hold you to that.”

“You should,” she grins, giving him a soft kiss, pulling away before he can deepen it. With a deliberate wiggle of her left ring finger, she continues, “There’s no getting rid of me now.”

The playfulness of Bucky’s smile fades slightly and his eyes darken, the look on his face causing her breath to quicken. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He closes the distance this time, his hand moving to the back of her neck to keep her against him as he kisses her, his tongue seeking entrance to taste her.

Despite being surrounded by hundreds of guests, most of which they don’t know, she has no desire to pull away and she grants him access, her lips parting at the first touch of his tongue He has a way of making her feel like they’re the only two people that exist, and soon she doesn’t care about anything except the feel of him against her, her skin growing warmer as Bucky’s hand slides lower, ghosting over the curve of her ass.

He’s too aware of their surroundings though, and as much as he’s enjoying showing his gorgeous fiancée off, he wants nothing more than to take her home and do unspeakable things to her. The thought has him kissing a trail along her jaw to whisper in her ear, “Surely it’s almost time to go.”

With her hands holding onto his shoulders, she gives him a reluctant shake of her head and lets out a slow breath, “We still have an hour.” They can’t leave until the newlyweds do - Bucky and a few of the other Avengers having agreed to be here to send the couple off in flourish with the other guests.

It’s like a bucket of water is thrown on him, his happy thoughts of their future fading into the frustrating memory that they’re here on business. That somehow the new couple’s donation to the city gained them a right to him.

He didn’t have to do this, but he had no reason to say no, and everyone else had already agreed, given how generous the couple will continue to be to numerous charities. All it’s costing Bucky is his time. And a little bit of his sanity.

The suffocating feeling starts to return and his right hand moves off her hip to fidget with his bow tie, a soft grimace appearing on his face as if it’s physically hurting him. There’s a reason he avoids wearing ties, and the fact that it wasn’t optional tonight makes it even worse.

“Baby,” she says softly, interrupting his thoughts with a gentle touch of her hand to stop him from making the tie any more crooked than it already is. He meets her eyes and just a simple look communicates so much, a reminder of her how hard tonight has been for him. She whispers her own reminder to him, gently telling him, “breathe,” as she adjusts the bow.

Bucky knows she means well, and admittedly, just her presence makes it easier for him to simply exist, but he’s not sure he’s going to make it another hour. “Kinda hard to do that with this damn thing around my neck,” he tells her with a slight shake of his head, but his tone remains gentle, a hint of vulnerability seeping out.

There’s no point in suggesting they cut out early - Bucky’s a man of his word and will stay until the end - so instead, with a slight tilt of her head, she offers, “Why don’t we take a walk?” They can kill some time before he needs to join everyone else for their last interaction of the night. “I’m sure you already know the layout of this place.”

Bucky laughs softly, appreciating her attempt to keep things light, and nods his head. “Course I do. You think I’m gonna take my woman somewhere without knowing all the exits and places to hide?” There’s not a single part of this manor that’s not etched into his mind.

With just a bit of encouragement from her to use that to his advantage, he takes her hand in his and leads her away from the dancefloor, ignoring the curious looks from their friends. Bucky could be leading her anywhere, and she’d blindly follow, her trust in him unyielding. He’s not sure he’ll ever feel deserving of it, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to prove that he does.

It doesn’t take him long to find their destination, Bucky leading her down a deserted hallway, passing just a couple of doors before he locates the one he’s looking for. As expected, the room is unlocked and the moment they’re in the unused dressing suite, his hand immediately reaches for his bow tie, not even giving her a chance to offer to help him.

After closing and locking the door behind them, she turns around to find him pulling at the offending silk around his collar, his growl of frustration meeting her ears as he inevitably makes the knot tighter. With a gentle touch of her hand, she stills his movements, and softly tells him, “Let me.”

He gives her an appreciative smile and uses the opportunity to touch her again, his hands seeking out her warmth through her dress. He feels compelled to minimize this, or offer up an explanation, but words aren’t needed here. She understands his aversion to ties - his aversion to anything that feels like a restraint.

Well, other than the occasional moments Bucky allows her to be in control of his body. He never thought it’d be something he’d enjoy, but he’s been seeking out more of those moments with her lately. Damn, he needs to get her home.

With just a gentle pull of the ends of his bow tie, the first knot is released and Bucky gives her a smile that never fails to make her weak in the knees. The corner of her mouth ticks up into a grin of her own, her gaze drifting from his eyes, to his mouth, then back down to the bow-tie to finish helping him.

After hooking her finger underneath the remaining knot a quick tug leaves Bucky feeling like he can finally draw a deep breath again. He still can’t help but reach up to undo the top two buttons of his shirt, not missing how the quick work of his fingers makes her thoughts obviously stray to the same place his keeps drifting to.

He can’t help but lean close, a knowing grin on his face, as he asks, “Whatcha thinkin’ about, doll?”

Even with her skin flushing, she has no problem admitting exactly what’s going through her mind right now. Her body presses closer to his, her fingers holding onto the lapels of his tux, and she tells him, “How good your fingers felt inside me this morning.”

Her admission is expected, but it still makes him groan and he pulls her into a kiss, his hand moving to her throat, his possessive touch never failing to make her heart flutter. The feel of her pulse against his fingers has him deepening the kiss, the taste of her not helping to lessen Bucky’s desire for her, nor is it helping him catch his breath.

His need for her outweighs any silly need for air in his lungs though, and for a moment, he refuses to pull away, even as he has to resist the urge to take this further. To undress her and touch her everywhere, to listen to her moan for him. Despite the thought of wanting her naked here, in this ridiculously expensive, lavish room, he tells himself they shouldn’t.

She’s having similar thoughts, but she definitely thinks they should. In fact, she thinks it’s a great way to spend the next few minutes. She wants nothing more than to help Bucky get his mind off of everything that’s been bothering him tonight.

The breathless moan she makes when she pulls away has him immediately reconsidering, but his old-fashioned sensibilities are telling him he can’t let her do this. That he should wait until they’re in the safety of their own home. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice giving away how much it pains him to remind her, “the party.”

“We have time,” she whispers back, her lashes fluttering at the tender caress of his thumb across her throat. “I just want to make you feel good.”

Her warm breath against his lips, the promise of more, makes him dizzy with need, but he’s still struggling to shed this last bit of hesitation. He’s not worried about anyone interrupting them, he just needs to be sure she’s truly okay with this. Because as adventurous as their sex life is, this is still a first for them.

She can sense his hesitation, and she doesn’t want to push him if this isn’t something he wants, but she can practically hear the thoughts running through his mind, and she knows how to quiet them. With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she asks him, “It’s hot to imagine, isn’t it? Me on my knees for you right here, with hundreds of people just down the hall.”

Bucky’s breath catches at her words, his body ablaze with desire, but he quickly lets out a laugh as she reminds him again to breathe. He loves these moments with her, how intense and passionate they can get while never losing their ability to have fun with each other. It has all his reservations quickly leaving him, his body welcoming her hand moving between them to seek out his erection.

Since doing his best to shed his past of the Winter Soldier, Bucky’s become more comfortable with letting her take charge, and right now the need for her to take charge is overwhelming. All he can think about as she quickly unbuttons his pants is how she’s never steered him wrong, and with just a few steps backwards, she’s guiding him to sit on one of the oversized armchairs.

A slight lift of his hips has her working his pants down far enough to pull his cock free and she eagerly wraps her hand around him, settling between his spread thighs ready to worship him. As much she wants to take her time, this moment doesn’t allow for it, and she doesn’t want to give him a second to rethink his decision to allow her to take care of him.

There’s no going back now. Bucky can’t imagine being anywhere else, and he can’t take his eyes off of her. She’s so breathtaking. Even when she brings her fingers to her mouth to gather saliva, all he can think about is how much she belongs here, surrounded by luxury and elegance. The sudden promising image of her on their wedding day has his cock twitching in her hand and it takes everything in him to keep his hands where they are, gripping the arms of the chair.

He wants to touch her, run his fingers through her hair, but she spent so long getting ready, just to keep him company tonight, and he refuses to risk messing up her hair or makeup. He continues watching her, letting her set the pace as she finally takes him into her mouth, the sudden wet heat surrounding him causing him to let out a breathless grunt of pleasure. “Fuck. I love you.”

She hums happily, glancing up to meet his gaze, the look on his face encouraging her to already take him deeper. She loves sucking his cock, the way he moans for her, the taste of him, the feel of him sliding into her throat. She’ll never get enough of it, and it’s not long before she speeds up her pace, desperate to feel him lose control.

Bucky’s lost in the pleasure, his hips occasionally lifting to meet her mouth, the knowledge of how much this is turning her on making it that much harder to focus. “God,” he breathes, his hands gripping the armchair harder, fingers digging into the upholstery. “Doll… Feel so good… Please…”

He can feel the vibrations of her moans each time his cock slides along her tongue and down her throat, and now he can smell her. It makes him want to taste her, to fuck her, to make her come with him. Just as he opens his mouth to tell her, the entire length of him is engulfed, her nose brushing against the soft curls at the base of his cock.

“Shit,” he gasps, his thighs tensing and his hand shoots out to grip her shoulder, the obscene noises of her throat gagging around his cock causing his balls to tighten. It’s more than enough to make him come, but he’s not ready yet. He wants more from her, and with a needy moan, he begs her to touch herself.

Without hesitation, her hand slides under the satin bunched around her knees, and she spreads her thighs wider as she slips the damp fabric of her panties aside, desperate to please him. The first pass of her fingers over her slick pussy makes her moan against him and both their hips start to move at the same time, Bucky fucking her mouth as she thrusts against her own hand.

He nearly loses it when she meets his gaze again, her lashes wet with tears, her mouth slick with saliva. He manages to hold back though, needing to watch her as she plays with herself, seeing the exact moment she fills herself with her fingers.

Her back arches and she nearly gags around his cock again, but she grips his cock with her left hand, stroking him in time with her mouth as she fucks herself, the heel of her hand pressed against her clit. She’s not even trying to make herself come, more focused on his pleasure, but she can feel the pressure building, her wetness coating her fingers.

Bucky’s senses are consumed by her, but it’s not enough, he wants to drown in her, to know nothing but the feel and smell and taste of her. “Please,” he says, his hand sliding along her shoulder, fingers caressing her skin. “Need… fuck… give me your fingers. Need to taste you.”

She almost comes just from that alone, the walls of her pussy gripping her fingers, her wetness soaking her palm, but she’s eager to give him what he wants. The instant her hand moves from her underneath her dress, he’s grabbing her wrist, guiding her fingers to his hungry mouth.

With a loud groan, Bucky closes his lips close around her slick digits, the taste of her exploding on his tongue, causing his balls to tighten and pleasure to shoot down his spine. The slight tightening of his grip on her shoulder is the only warning he can give her as the tension builds to a breaking point.

He gasps and moans around her fingers, his tongue licking up every drop of her, the first wave hitting him with such intensity that his hips lift involuntarily. He watches her take all of him, her hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking him as he comes down her throat, the force of his orgasm nearly causing him to collapse.

She swallows every drop, her body buzzing with pleasure as she sucks him dry, not a care in the world that she didn’t get to come with him. She refuses to let him go, prolonging his pleasure, until he can’t take anymore and his body finally starts to relax, her fingers slipping from his mouth.

Bucky doesn’t even give her a chance to catch her breath before he’s pulling her up, careful not to mess up her dress as he meets her in a kiss, the combined taste of them on their tongues making them both moan. There’s not a chance he’s letting her leave this with room without getting to taste more of her.

He casually pulls his pants back over his hips, happily listening to her explain that this was all about him. And, the moment she’s finished insisting she only wanted to help him relax, he’s just as happy to reject her premise, telling her, “Making you come on my mouth will definitely relax me.”

The laugh she gives him tells him everything he needs to know and it’s his turn to take the lead, guiding her to the armchair he was just occupying. Before he has her sit, he reaches under the slit in her dress to take hold of her panties, not wasting any time to slide them down her legs, kneeling in front of her in the process.

She’s not sure how much time they have left, but she can’t imagine it’s going to take her very long. Not with the taste of him still in her mouth, and the way he’s looking up at her right now. With minimal encouragement, she settles back in the chair, careful not to mess up her hair, grinning as Bucky takes the same amount of care with her dress.

After lifting the soft material to her waist, and guiding her legs back, he takes a moment to appreciate the view of her on display, ready for the taking. Later tonight, when he’s fucking her in their bed, he plans to tell her again and again how pretty she looked tonight, but the words won’t come right now. His mouth only wants to be doing one thing, and it’s not talking.

With one last glance up at her, her hands already gripping the arms of the chair in preparation, he closes the distance, the smell of her immediately overwhelming his senses. She barely hears his soft groan of pleasure, but it’s hard to miss the way he deeply inhales her scent, his hands immediately coming up to keep her spread open for him.

At Bucky’s instructions, she forces herself to stay still, his playful reminder for her to breathe the only reason she’s taking any air into her lungs at all. She watches as he takes his time, the flat of his tongue licking her from her dripping entrance to her swollen clit, the contact making her legs shake and her eyes roll back.

She’s so sensitive, just a few swipes of his tongue building her towards the edge, but he refuses to rush this, taking his time to the savor the taste of her, fucking her slowly with his tongue. And whenever she starts to move or forgets to stop breathing, he’s right there reminding her what he needs her to do. “Relax. Breathe.”

He’s not going to let her get flushed and sweaty, not when he knows how much harder it’ll make the rest of the evening for her. That’s why he keeps her in place, the cool metal of his vibranium thumb pressed against her clit making her slick walls pulsate around his tongue, the delicious taste of her making him hard yet again.

She keeps her head lifted, even when her eyes flutter close, her body on fire as she takes slow, deep breaths. It’s becoming not enough and too much all at once, the familiar tingle signaling how close she is, but without being able to chase her pleasure, she can’t help but beg for more.

Bucky’s more than happy to oblige and licks back up to her clit, greedily closing his lips over it as he slips two fingers inside of her, his vibranium arm quick to hold her place. She reaches out, almost grabbing his head, but thinks better of it at the last second, not wanting to mess up his hair, her hands instead gipping his arm, her fingers soon interlocking with his as she takes in lungfuls of air.

It only takes a few strokes of his fingers for her to fall, the deep breathing making the orgasm even more intense, and with his lips suctioned around her clit, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud, her hand flies up to cover her own mouth, barely muffling her loud cries of pleasure as she comes for him.

Bucky’s fingers and mouth follow her body as each wave of pleasure washes over her, her thighs threatening to close around his head, but he welcomes the feeling, relishing the way she comes apart for him, her arousal soaking his hand and beard.

He doesn’t stop until she grows too sensitive, easing his fingers out of her before giving her one last lick, able to feel the pulse of her aftershocks on his tongue. Careful not to touch her dress with his arousal-slicked fingers, he helps her sit up and kisses her softly, her body still trembling as she slowly comes back down.

Once it’s clear she can finally breathe again, and her heart’s not about to burst out of her chest, Bucky gives her a cheeky grin, telling her, “Now I’m ready to get back to the party.”

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

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

432 notes · View notes

wroteclassicaly · 5 months ago

Text

18+

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight fluff, dominant Penelope, threesome, some comfort, plus sized reader, self-esteem issues, slight anxiety, and NSFW.

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,926

A/N: Hi! This is my first piece of fic (trash) into the Bridgerton world. I’ve never read any fics, haven’t seen all of the show yet. I’ve only recently gotten into it because of Penelope/Polin. Hope you enjoy, and I look forward to producing more content (likely turning this into a storyline)!

Your hands feel cold, slick with an icy sweat that seems to evaporate into heat. The more you seem to fold into yourself, she can recognize and wrap her fingers in your own. It is a comfort, however, also a reminder, as your fingertips would brush across the diamond she bears. He is not meant for you, she is not meant for you. They belong to one another.

You have to remember why you were brought to their home in the first place. And ultimately, what you do to earn your way in this life. That would surely shame their family name if anyone were to see you here, sneaking through corridors in the middle of the night with the newly married Penelope Featherington — now proudly assuming her Bridgerton name. Your thoughts are shaken from you, as you round the corner, stopping short at the buttery glow of light spilling from beneath the doors. You edge away slightly, spare hand reaching to clutch your sleep attire closed.

“You know that we will not object if your mind has changed.” She speaks with a soft reassurance, the nail on her thumb scratching along your palm.

That is the most odd thing — an emotion, in which you cannot process yet. A connection you’ve already established with them. It prevents you from shying away, from objecting. You’re shaking your head, inhaling rather sharply. “I do not have very many reservations, Mrs. Bridgerton —“

“ — Penelope, please?”

You can do nothing but smile in return. “Penelope. Forgive me, I suppose my curiosity has taken a walk with my nerves tonight. But I will not let it get the better of me. I still want this. To give what I can, to you and to your husband.”

She stops short of those doors and takes both of your hands into her own. She’s a picture of this fine, smooth porcelain, so full and perfect that you could spend hours worshipping if given the chance. Maybe that night is tonight?

Her voice is roping you back in. “This is a mutual thing that Colin and myself have agreed upon. It is not just about us. This consent you’ve given, it does not extend only to our pleasure, but also to your own.”

You’re inhaling sharply, understanding her implications, but unsure why. Your role is to give them whatever they need and then go. And this is what they’d like? It’s as if time stops when Penelope wraps her dainty fingers around the door handle, pushing, the force bringing your dressing gowns a few inches off of the floor by their hems. If you thought that was something, the sight that you’re greeted with is enough to wake your entire bloodline from beneath the soil.

Candles are draped around the room for more than just the ability to see, giving it all a personal ambience. This is their personal bedroom, not a study, not a hidden place, but where their marriage bed is located. Your mouth becomes parched as you look around to truly take it in, the doors closing behind you not even startling you. Penelope stays close by, especially until you’re noticing him. He’s patient, a slight smile pressed into his beautiful mouth.

“Good evening, ladies. I take it we’re alright then?”

It’s that honey-hot depth that captivates you, causing you to reach back to Pen, seeking her support. She encourages you to meet her husband in a few short feet. He’s clad in his cream colored night shirt, his silhouette shrouded in candlelight. His hair has grown out a little, a slight touch of curl sweeping across the top. Their radiating body heats caging you in, it’s a feeling you are sure won’t ever occur again in your lifetime.

“Mr. Bridgerton. Good evening, Sir.”

He grins as though a feather has tickled the crafted end of his jawline. Penelope shares a fond look over your shoulder.

“No need for formalities. It’s safe in here, I promise you.” Penelope is nodding as his arm raises, one eyebrow to gauge your permission. You don’t object. And his rather large hand is caressing your cheek, stifling the air inside of your lungs. “Call me Colin, yes?”

Like the sweetest of sugar, his name rolls off your tongue without pause. “Colin.”

Penelope’s hands find your shoulders from behind, sliding around your collar to dip in, caress your skin. You swallow, but accept. “Whatever you wish to do, you have my permission.” Your head briefly attempts to look over your shoulder as you also address her. “The both of you.”

~*~

It hadn’t taken long for things to progress between the three of you. When Colin’s mouth found your own, Penelope had slowly unraveled your gown from your torso, everyone holding their breaths as it hit the floor. Your chin became pinched beneath his sturdy fingers, tilting until he had access to your neck. Pen’s hands aimlessly wandering with what you thought wasn’t a purpose, just an exploration. How wrong you’d been the moment that her hands had found your full breasts, ever-so-gently caressing your areola.

It wasn’t that she was experienced in her movements, no. It was how eager she seemed to touch you, to have your body beneath her grasp like this. And it only added energy on top of the mounting tension already in the room. You did not have to guide, nor teach. Colin maneuvered, gave his wife space to learn, to feel another woman’s body.

He’d coaxed her around, taking her previous placing behind you, her pupils had encased her irises into an inky black velvet. The way her mouth had become swollen from biting her full, lower lip, her hands unable to stop touching you. In the end, you closed the gap, Colin caressing the nape of your neck as you kissed his wife with fervor. It was beautiful, the two of you. Your shape wore a little more weight than Penelope’s, but it was exceptional, in his eyes — seeing women that could not see the beauty in themselves, lost in one another this way.

He could only hope that you’re both seeing it now, as well.

As you’d broken apart, Colin stepped to the side, voice a bitten rasp, offering both hands. “Shall we take this to bed?”

~*~

You aren’t able to breathe correctly, breasts heaving, legs wide open to make room for him, for her.

The second that they had laid you down, that he had undressed his wife and kissed her, he whispered something in her ear. She’d gone red, but nodded and joined your right side. You tried not to let languid anxieties find their way inside, tried to remain proper when he had stood before you, bedside — all hard muscle, trim hips that held his length in between. He would be a fit, even for you.

He’d licked his tongue at the corner of his mouth, inhaling rather sharply, his hair covered chest already drenched in desperate perspiration. “I am going to show Pen how to touch you between your thighs. Will you let me — us, will you let us?”

How her hand looked in his as he guided, separating two fingers and sucking them into his mouth, causing a not so proper word to leave your lips — it’s surely a sight that could cure those without clear sight. The way their lips had parted when her finger breached your opening, sliding into your wet heat, knowing how it felt for the first time. She’d moved to his ministrations along your jugular, everyone entangled in a pulling, a pushing, more. Heavens, more. You had felt the tears glisten in your eyes, melt into your lashline, cooling on the air.

Colin had asked if you were alright, to which you drug him by his wrist, cupping his palm over your breast. “Please, please.”

~*~

The way the ceiling looks above you, you cannot see through your hazed over vision. The candles burning, melting down, you are not concerned with. Even the summer’s rain that has begun to pour on earth, there is no room to ponder. What you’re thinking of within this moment, it is the man between your legs, one hand held behind your crown, the other holding onto your waist as he moves so deeply inside of you, precise, wonderfully intricate thrusts, that discover a place in your body that you weren’t aware existed. Why should you? No client had ever taken this much time, nor care for what your body felt.

It was never about that. You were there to serve, purpose fulfilled, you left tattered and empty. But with Colin and Penelope Bridgerton? You aren’t sure what this is. The singular certainty that you do have, however, is that you do not wish for this to end.

There’s a fire in Penelope’s eyes as she sees you holding back a brewing question, your hands shaking. The one wound around Colin’s shoulder, the other that you have currently working between her legs. She can barely hold it together, beautiful and angelic to you, keeping you able to take her husband without issue. She is nodding at you, knowing what you need. You’re past that point, coasting over realms undiscovered, heavenly worlds that only Colin Bridgerton has directions to, powers to unlock.

She removes her hands from you both, dipping them down to his bottom, feeling, grabbing, and that moan drips from her like the cream that’s accumulated across her thighs, and she pushes, locks in tight. Like he’s under command, under her spell, his hips take you faster, harder — giving you exactly what you could not ask for. You’re not sure who is louder at this point, but everyone begins to breathe harder, lungs exerted, hands finding one another. You clip onto his neck’s nape, your other hand finding Penelope’s soft, soaked mound, and he is gripping onto her breast, his spare reaching back to hold onto your hand that is on his neck.

Penelope reaches her peak first, how she tightens around your fingers, collapsing right into the pillow beside your head. It triggers you to follow, body briefly arching, throat unable to let out anything that is not a pitiful, intense cry. You’re swimming with this, ignited in a reality that you cannot imagine not having endured before. Colin tenses, his forehead finding your own, and Penelope is lifting to watch you to complete your peaks. He sighs himself into a drawn out whine, right into your open mouth.

And then it’s over, his full weight pressed into you. It’s like there’s instruments that have suddenly stalled and cast a curtain aside to let you hear every sound you’ve been ignoring, incapable of. Heavy rain, battering winds, and rushing heartbeats. You all take a thoughtful moment, before Colin is lifting on forearms. “You’re alright? The both of you?”

You concur with Penelope. Colin smirks, bringing your slick covered fingers, letting them work into his mouth. He sucks her essence free of you, and they lean to trade a kiss, before taking a place on either side of you. Pen reaches for the blankets, pulling them up and gently tucking you in.

“I believe I will ask Mr. Bridgerton to extend the invitation.”

You turn to Colin, a question written into your features. He doesn’t give you too much time to ponder. “You will stay with us? Tonight?”

It’s everything that you want, but also everything that you cannot ask for. Like a fool, you’re already falling lovesick.

What have you done?

365 notes · View notes

theereina · 19 days ago

Text

The "Itch"

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), fingering, spitting, slight an*l, double penetration/stimulation, spanking, Soft Dom!Terry

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels. This is my first time focusing on sub-dom, so please be nice.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Nadia had gone to bed earlier than usual. She had taken her first Pilates class today and foolishly went to the gym after. Every part of her body ached as a reminder of her session. She loved it, nevertheless. Her fiancé, Terry, had gifted her a 3 month membership at the local Pilates studio. She had shown interest after trying it at home using YouTube videos and equipment from Amazon. Terry had gone out and bought all her equipment and outfits way before her first class was even scheduled. This is why she loved him. His ability to breathe life into her hobbies and invest in her selflessly.

Nadia was lying on her belly with her arm under the pillow. Her hair was braided back into two puffy braids. She had sweated her hair out and was NOT in the mood to even touch it after the gym.

Nadia heard the faint sound of Terry's truck pulling onto the gravel driveway. She tossed in her sleep, facing the window in their upstairs master bedroom. His headlights flashed across the room as he drove closer to the house. She heard the truck come to a stop and the engine cut off. Terry opened and closed the doors of his vehicle collecting his things before walking to the front door. She heard his keys before the front door creaked open. The house went silent as Nadia waited for his presence.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs. Nadia turned to rest on her back. His footsteps were— different. They weren't light and graceful tonight. They carried a nagging weight. A weight Nadia could register from a mile away. Nadia sat up in bed, resting her back against the plush headboard. Her satin gown hung from one shoulder, and she wasn't wearing any underwear as Terry had always requested for bedtime.

She could hear his footsteps moving closer to the bedroom door. They were much louder than normal. Terry opened the bedroom door to find Nadia sitting up waiting for him. He paused to take in the simplicity of her natural beauty. Her natural hair braided back will always be one of his favorite hairstyles on her. It didn't matter if it was messy or professionally done. It made her look like an angel to him. The way the light brown satin gown lay on her glowy brown skin made her look like the finest of chocolates— smooth and sweet. The way that single strap hung off her shoulder slightly exposing the top of her large breast was the icing on the cake for him. He needed his Nadia— his baby girl. The yearning within Terry rose with every second that his gaze lingered on her.

Nadia waited with her hands in her lap while Terry stood in the doorway taking ALL of her in. Terry's eyes reflected the moonlight that glowed through the window. Nadia followed Terry's eyes up her body until they met her's. She nodded and smiled. Terry nodded back.

Terry admired that she was waiting for him without him asking. Terry looked into Nadia’s doe-brown eyes with enough lust to ignite the fire between her legs. Terry approached the bed and patted the edge. Without saying a word, Nadia pulled the covers back and crawled to the foot of the bed. She sat on her knees. She assured that she was close enough to feel Terry's energy but not touch him. She needed permission for that in these situations.

He leaned over and kissed the top of Nadia’s head and her forehead. He cupped her chin in his hand and brought her face to his. His stare was heavy and demanding. He bit his bottom lip before speaking. “Daddy's got an itch, baby girl,” he said kissing Nadia’s lips. Nadia placed her hands in her lap and drew in a breath. “What's your remedy, Daddy?” Nadia said playing with the bottom hem of her gown. It was barely covering halfway past her thick thighs and from the right angle he could definitely see she had followed the no panties rule.

“First, are you okay?” he said placing his hands on the sides of her neck. “Yes, sir. I'm okay,” Nadia replied with a nod of her head. “Alright, baby girl. You okay with Daddy being hands-on during this session?” he asked. “Yes, sir. If hands-on is what Daddy needs, we can begin when he's ready,” Nadia said looking at Terry with the softest eyes.

“Thank you, baby girl. Wait right here, okay?” Terry said, standing up straight. Nadia nodded and looked down at her hands. She watched as Terry's work boots disappeared from her line of sight. She could hear him enter the bathroom. She heard the sink turn on and off. Terry was all about cleanliness whenever possible, so she assumed that he had washed his hands.

Terry returned from the bathroom shirtless and carrying his belt in his hand. “Eyes up,” he demanded. Nadia’s eyes rose to find his. “Are you gonna be a good girl fa’ me?” he asked crossing his arms. Nadia's eyes watched the belt as it rested on his chest. “Yes, Daddy. I promise,” Nadia said softly. “Baby girl, we use our big girl voice in this room!” Terry said shifting his weight to one side. “Sorry. I promise to be a good girl,” Nadia said louder. “Thank you, baby. Turn around. Flatten out. Arms out in front of you. You know how Daddy likes it,” he said while uncrossing his arms and dropping the belt since there was no longer a need to restrain her.

Nadia turned around and put her ass in the air. She flattened her body as much as she could against the mattress, deepening her arch. Her arms stretched ahead towards the headboard with her palms faced down. Her gown instantly rose over her ass, exposing all of her to Terry's hungry gaze.

“That's my girl. Ass up, face down. Remember to breathe,” Terry said inching closer to Nadia's backside. He began to rub and palm her ass cheeks. He pushed her gown up further so that it was around her waist. “Do you remember Daddy's rules?” Terry asked massaging her lower back. “Rule number one: count out loud. If I don't and Daddy can't hear it, it doesn't count. Rule number two: keep my hands to myself. That includes keeping them off of Daddy and me. Rule number three: Daddy doesn't like quiet bitches. He wants to hear me. Rule number four: Don't interrupt Daddy while he's having fun. Rule number five: I am a princess and slut. Act like it!” Nadia called out the list with pride as a smile spread across Terry's face.

Terry was a soft dom. He had no interest in being “hard”. He liked things light and playful, yet sexy and spicy. Nadia’s words carried more weight than his needs. “No” meant “no”, and he didn't believe in coercion. Nadia's answers were final. That's why check-ins and consent were so important to him. He would never make her do anything she didn't want to. Even if Nadia desired to do it to please him, it made him uncomfortable. In Terry's mind, this was really Nadia's playroom, and he was just the keeper.

“Ready, love?” Terry asked adjusting himself between her legs. His thighs rested against the edge of the bed. Nadia nodded. Terry cupped her chin and turned her face towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry. Yes, sir. I'm ready,” she said turning her head back to face the headboard. He pushed her lower back down gently and angled her ass higher. He wanted to see all of her.

From this angle, Terry could see her pussy already beginning to glisten. He palmed her ass with one hand as he slid his fingers in between the lips of her pussy grazing her clit over and over again. Nadia let out a soft moan. Terry slid two fingers inside her pussy. “Does baby girl want a reward? I think you earned one. Daddy didn't even have to tell you to be waiting. Do you know how that makes Daddy feel, baby girl?” Terry said pushing his fingers in slowly. Nadia moaned and began clenching her fists.

“Like the king he is,” Nadia said lifting her head. She wanted to make sure Terry heard her. “That's right, princess. Good girl,” Terry said as he began to slowly fingerfuck Nadia. He curved his fingers upward aiming for her g-spot. Nadia clenched around his fingers. “Is that where my baby wants it?” Terry said working his fingers against the same spot over and over. “Yes, Daddy!” Nadia moaned out. “If that's what my baby wants, that's what she gets,” Terry grunted. His fingers began to pick up speed. Nadia’s body jerked forward slightly pushing Terry's fingers out. “Noted,” Terry said in a low grumble.

That meant Nadia had made a mistake. An amount was added to whatever Terry decided— spankings, orgasms, denials, etc. With her in this position, she was adamant that a spanking was happening shortly. “Sorry, sir!” Nadia blurted out. Terry tapped her lower back, letting her know he at least acknowledged her apology. There was no such thing as deductions.

Nadia could feel herself approaching her climax. This orgasm was going to be a strong one. She could feel Terry shift behind her. Terry leaned his head down and opened his mouth letting saliva fall onto Nadia’s pussy. He removed his fingers and dragged them down towards her clit. He began to use the pads of his fingers to rub her swollen clit. He pushed the thumb from the same hand into her pussy.

He leaned over to glance at the side of Nadia's face. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth. “Your reward,” Terry announced. He dragged the thumb from his other hand over her asshole and pressed lightly. He knew that one of Nadia's biggest kinks was double penetration/stimulation. Nadia’s moans immediately grew louder. Terry pressed his thumb into her asshole a little more, passing the rim. Nadia began fisting the bedsheets in front of her. A smile spread across Terry's face. He loved it when she reacted like this. Terry began making small circular motions with his thumb still inside her.

His other hand was still playing with her pussy. “For being such a good girl, you can cum whenever you like,” Terry said quickening the pace of his hands. He needed Nadia to cum hard. He loved making her orgasm. “Daddy, I'm close!” Nadia whimpered loudly. “I know baby. I can feel it. Can you let Daddy have it? Let it out, baby,” Terry cooed. It was as if that was all it took for Nadia's pussy to explode. She came all over Terry's hand that was covering her pussy. He rubbed her clit faster pushing her orgasm out.

Terry smiled at the moans Nadia was releasing as each one egged him on. “That's my baby. You did all that for Daddy,” he said leaning down and kissing up her spine. With each kiss, Nadia released more small moans. “Fuck!” she yelled out.

Terry leaned back up. He watched as she came down and leveled her breathing. “It's time, princess,” Terry said massaging Nadia’s lower back with both hands. She quickly repositioned herself. “Good girl. Ready?” Terry said flexing his fingers. “Yes, Daddy. I'm ready,” she replied closing her eyes. She had learned that anticipating the hits made them hurt worse. She loosened her hips and spread her legs a little more. She liked when his hits got a little wild and struck her pussy just a little.

“Begin,” Terry announced.

smack

“One!”

smack

“Two!”

smack

“Three!”

smack

“Four!”

After every couple of smacks, Terry would gently massage Nadia’s ass cheeks. Once they were past fifteen, Nadia’s pussy was aching again.

smack

“Sixteen!”

smack

“Seventeen!”

smack

“Eighteen!”

Nadia was feeling the throb of every hit. She knew that she was welting or bruising by now.

smack

“Nineteen!”

smack

“Twenty!”

“Last one for your earlier indiscretion!” Terry called out.

smack

“Twenty-one!” Nadia whimpered again. Her hands were lost in the tangled sheets she had been fisting.

“That's my girl. Breathe,” Terry said taking notice of Nadia's pussy clenching on nothing. “You need something?” Terry asked stroking her clit again. “I'm so close, Daddy. Make me cum again, please!” Nadia screamed. She moaned as soon as Terry's fingers slipped inside of her again.

Terry leaned over and placed his free hand on Nadia's waist. He pulled closer to him while fingerfucking her pussy. He got down on his knees behind her on the floor. Using nothing but his flattened tongue he licked from her pussy to her asshole. His fingers left her pussy and found her clit again. He pointed his tongue and inserted it into her wet pussy. He moved his head back and forth while his tongue was inside her, thrusting into her like he was searching for her orgasm.

He wanted her to cum on his face, and he wanted it now. He pressed harder on her clit while continuing to pad it with his fingertips. His tongue went into overdrive. He wiggled his tongue along her walls as far as he could reach. Nadia was screaming now. “Daddy! Oh, fuck. I'm…ahh. Please, I'm…ughhh!” Nadia yelled. Her juices squirted out of her and flooded Terry's open mouth. He held his mouth over her catching everything he could. He licked over her entrance over and over again.

Once he was finished, he stood up from behind Nadia. He tapped her lower back before speaking again, “Turn over, baby.” Nadia flipped over so that she was on her back. Terry leaned down and grabbed her hands. “I love you, baby girl. You know that?” Terry asked, smiling down at her. “Yes, Daddy. I love you, too!” Nadia said panting.

Terry leaned over her body and began kissing all over her chest and neck, causing her to giggle. “I’ll take care of you in the bathroom and before you go back to bed. For now, rest. Okay, love?” Terry said locking eyes with her. His gaze was much softer now. Those greenish hazel eyes were gleaming. “Yes, sir,” Nadia answered leaning up to peck Terry on the lips.

Terry rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She heard the bath turn on. She could hear him searching through cabinets, opening and closing each one. “Eucalyptus or lavender?!” Terry yelled from the bathroom. “Both!” Nadia yelled back. She placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes. This was the most intense session she and Terry had done in a while.

Returning to the bedroom, Terry walked into their closet and grabbed two towels and her robe taking them into the bathroom. “Ready, baby?” Terry asked walking back out. “Yes, sir,” Nadia said letting out a yawn. “Tired?” “I was asleep when you came,” she said as Terry picked her up bridal style. “Sorry for waking you up,” he said kissing her forehead. “You can wake me up like this anytime you want!” Nadia laughed as they entered the bathroom. The steam rose from the bath. She could smell the essential oils he used. “Mmm,” she let out, taking a deep breath.

Terry put her down and stepped into the tub first. He held out his hand to guide her in. “Thank you,” she said. She sat down first with him sitting behind her. His back rested against the edge of the large Jacuzzi tub. Bubbles were beginning to cover their bodies. Terry reached around Nadia to turn off the faucet. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush to him. “Thank you, my love,” he said kissing her lips. “Anytime,” she said sinking back into his chest.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @persethegawd @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theglamclosetsl @nayaesworld @ariiijestertheklown

@androgynousgaz @insidefeelingofanadult @blyffe @mymindisneverhere @writingsbytee @revealingco @pocketsizedpanther @creartivefairy @disc0fairy @uzumaki-rebellion

@planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @vivaalenaa @5headsupremacist @slutsareteacherstoo @gg-trini

@beenathembo @babybratzmaraj @sageispunk @gwenda-fav @blowmymbackout @megamindsecretlair

@helloncrocs @chasingsunlight

375 notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 1 year ago

Text

Passion for Fashion Part 2

Danny glances around the room, initially supposed to be the living room, but Dan had quickly turned it into a studio. He had fabrics stacked everywhere, random clothes designs pinned to the walls, and various-sized mannequins scattered about with half-finished projects.

"It looks like Joann Craft's store exploded in here" he grumbles side-stepping into a half-finished gown dress and ducking under rows of fabric swatches that Dan just has to hang across the whole house by color because they help him visualize.

Or some nonsense like that.

Frankly, Danny was starting to suspect Dan had developed a new ghost Obsession now that grief no longer blinded him, and he knew Clockwork made it deliberately fashion design.

He is a bit unsettled that Dan's tunnel vision mirrors his parent's obsession with ghost hunting. Is it a ghost Obsession thing or a Fenton thing? Even Jazz can't get sucked into her physiology studies, so he had to remind her to sleep and eat. Eventually, Danny will find his own tunnel vision obsession. He just knows it.

Ducking two more times to avoid the shades of blue and green, Danny follows the barely visible pathway to where Dan is likely working on the first suit for the competition's first catwalk.

The first round of the competition was a mere selection round, where contestants were all brought into a large room and given a sketchbook, pencils, colors pencils, and reference books. After the surprise judge gave them the theme of household pets, they were to design two male and female outfits within an hour. Dan had entered the testing room like a man sent to the front lines.

Danny hadn't been needed for that round, so he explored Gotham, stopping to eat the famous Batburger. The food was far tastier than Nasty Burger, and he felt like he was betraying his city by how much he savored the Joker fries.

He did notice the way everyone was staring at him, much to his shame, just as he was licking his fingers clean. He scrambled to leave as a few teens whispered, gesturing to him.

He had been in Casper High to know that usually meant insults, so when a pretty blond girl stood up and started for him, he made haste to get out of there as quickly as possible.

He met up with Dan- with a carryout bag because he wasn't a monster- and found the other had blown the competition out of the water. His designs were first in the selection round, and Dan's head got three sizes bigger that day.

It's strange how used to living here he's gotten. It's been a month and a half, and yes, people still stare at him a lot, but it's not like Danny isn't used to being called a freak, so he ignores them all. Dan tried to stay inside the house as much as possible, rarely leaving his fabrics, but Danny felt restless being indoors all the time.

Amity Park is a small city, with most of it being open space and grass he felt strange being surrounded by a loud, crowded city like Gotham. He often wandered about trying to find something new and fun, though that was hard to do once the sun started setting.

He found being outside at night was a terrible idea the first time a trio of men attempted to shove him into a van.

Thankfully, Danny had been bored enough he recreated some of his parents' gadgets, and the three men had been stunned by his Fenton Tazzer wristband before they had opened the van door. Then there was that time a group of toddlers tried to mug him. He had been trying to find a park or something when seven kids- couldn't be older than twelve- all creeped out of the shadows holding knives and bats and demanded he gave them his wallet.

Danny hadn't meant to, but it was so bizarre he had bursted out laughing. He was so used to ghosts that the sight of little kids trying to be threatening was so historical that he couldn't stop laughing. He also forgot to breathe for a second since coming to this world. His body needed less sleep, less food, and got less tired, which was a plus on their wallets.

Danny laughed so hard he fell to his knees, shaking with jest.

The kids scattered at once, a few shouting, "Joker venom!" he was left chuckling to himself. After that, he got up and went home, the occasional snicker slipping from his lips.

Dan had thought it was hilarious, too.

Despite the time they have been here and Danny's many outings, they haven't really interacted with anyone else. Danny had never been one to have positive memories with socializing, and Dan frankly disliked humans too much to want to be around them.

With nothing to do but wander during the day and practice his model walk, Danny quickly got into the habit of tinkering with various machinery. At first, he needed to rebuild his parent's weapons and ghost gear- something he had been able to do since he was seven- then he shifted to building whatever popped into his head.

From robotic prosthetics to a TV projector, Danny filled the hours with some eclectic in his hands. Otherwise, he looked around Gotham and took pictures of the architect because it was Sam's entire aesthetic. How could he not try to capture this place for her?

Dan had been researching through the house internet- thank the ancients the house came with the service- and found various styles he liked experimenting with. Due to his ghost abilities, he worked faster than the sewing machines and was dishing out whole outfits in matters of days instead of the months they usually take.

He has even been walking around in whatever Dan chose to make for him since he thought it would get him used to being seen in something not his usual style. He can't afford to lose the fashion show simply because he got awkward. That would ruin his plans to help Batman and get home.

His wardrobe now varied from what Dan called "eboy", "skater" "K-pop" "casual chic" "haute" and "streetwear". Personally, Danny preferred the streetwear since it was more often than not baggy.

He had a lot of people staring at him when he walked around in Dan's clothes. Danny hopes he doesn't look as dumb as he feels.

"Danny, come try this on!" Dan shouts, snapping Danny out of his thoughts. He gestured to a black and navy blue three-piece suit that took Danny's breath away.

"Wow, Dan, it's gorgeous."

"Duh, I made it brat." He gestures to the vest, which Danny can see painfully embroidered swirls of black, purple, and a few white strips. It did not take him long to recognize the Magellanic cloud resting on the right side while the left is a mirror design in black, carefully blending into the blue. The pants, jacket, and shoes were a nearly jet-black cloth that somehow looked like a liquid even when standing still, but what tied it all together was the black cape draping over the right shoulder. It was pinned in place by a metal piece shaped like a Sirius Star. "The first round is space theme, and lucky for us, I was obsessed with NASA as a kid."

"No, but honestly, can I keep this afterward?" Danny asks, reaching out to rub his hands on the fabric. "Wow this is soft"

"It's satin, of course; it's soft," Dan snorts. "And sure, if we win, it's yours. I don't care what happens to the clothes after I make them."

"How long did this take you to make?" Danny asks, turning it around and sporting more accurately placed constellations of the satellite galaxy. It was like a picture made of fabric, curling from the right to the back of the vest. He'll have to take the jacket off at some point to show that part off.

"Three days. Without sleep."

"That's insane Dan"

"No, you know what's insane? This place has different beauty standards. It's all about the goth and emo kids here. A few Victorian lads, too. Or frankly, a straight-up twink is hot."

"What?" Danny's brain buffers "That can't be right. I was bullied and so were my friends for looking like that."

"Trust me, the ideal body kept coming up as I researched fashion trends and ideas. Nerds are in here. "

"W-what do I do with knowledge?"

Dan's eyes flashed a dangerous green. "You put it to use on the walkway. This suit is designed to show you off, and the best part? It's your natural body; no need to highlight beefed-up muscles or a wide chest like Dash."

"Oh my ancients....Am I hotter than Dash? Then the top A-lister?"

Dan grins. "We got this competition in the bag."

Across Gotham, Tim is scrolling through GothamLive- the favorite plate form of all Gotham, beating even Twitter- and he's surprised to see it covered by the target of their latest mission. He's back at the cave running coms since he got dosed in fear toxin on the last big fight. It was not too bad but Bruce didn't want him doing anything too adrenaline-inducing for a least a month.

He would argue, but even he knew his hands still sometimes shook when he trained. So he was on comm duty listening in to all his family as they moved about Gotham.

It was a quiet night with only three muggings and one car thief so far, but Bruce wanted everyone connected just in case.

Tim figured he could check in on the meta twins and found Danny everywhere on Gotham's online platform.

People have been spotting him strut around Gotham looking drop-dead gorgeous, and everyone near their age group who was attracted to men was losing their minds over Danny Fenton.

Tim found a few of him in skater clothes and felt his face get slightly warmer. Okay, they are right. Danny certainly paints a pretty picture, but that's worrying.

A pretty meta? He could be snatched up by the worst of Gotham soon.

Tim will have to get close to keep an eye on him. You know, for the target's safety.

Dan is his identical twin, which means there are two beautiful boys out there. Tim thinks, checking over the twin's house location. It's thankfully on the outskirts of Gotham, where it's not exactly safe, but it sure as hell isn't Crime Alley. They should be okay as long as no one finds their home.

He choked on his coffee when a picture of Danny dressed like a K-pop star casually lodging on a chair drinking a coffee appears on his dash. Yeah, he can see how the guy ended up in modeling if he could make poses like that naturally.

"Red Robbin to everyone, we may want to keep an eye on the Fenton's. Don't want them taken by traffickers."

"Danny Fenton already fought off a kidnapping:" Jason responds in seconds with a slight sneer. His elder brother has always hated traffickers and rapists the most. " Some idiots tried to escape me by going into the Outskirts and saw Danny. They took their chance only to be taken out by the guy's tazer disguised as a bracelet."

He sends the family a photo of the incident, and Danny's unimpressed look at the three screaming men makes Tim's lips twitch. Maybe Gotham wasn't so different from Santa Prisca. Only someone used to danger so often found would be kidnapers annoying, and that island wasn't exactly the safest place to be.

Their mother died to get them out, after all.

"That's not all. He's also fought off three different gangs, none of the big players but enough to raise some brows," Babs adds, displaying a gang of Crime Alley kids running from a laughing Danny, a group of men and women wearing the red scorpion marks running from a laughing Danny and a second group of kids- slightly older but not older than Danny- all backing away from the ice Danny had encased himself in. "The first two he tricked into thinking Joker was about, and the last one he just froze himself until they got tired of shooting and went away."

"What about the other one?" Bruce asks.

"He doesn't leave the house, but he's been very active online. Mostly, he's looking up fashion articles or trends. Recently, his search is nothing but "What are twinks, and why are they hot?". I can't tell if that's a culture difference or if Dan is just weird."

"They are not trained," Damian says, an undertone of curiosity in his voice. "But they can defend themselves well and truly know their craft. Dan's designs for my animal theme challenge were exquisite. I will be commissioning the black German Shepherd suit he made. Ace and I will look divine at the next gala."

"I kind of want the bird dress," Steph cuts in with a chirp. "I know it's not purple, but it looked cool in concept. What bird breed did he pick for it?"

"It was the Lovebird," Damian answers. "Somehow his design was both elegant and accurate without seemingly childish as the bird it was based on."

Tim wonders if Damian may start to develop an interest in fashion or if he just appreciates drawings as an artist. "So should we be worried?"

"No. Fenton has unwillingly gathered too much attention online. People will notice if he disappears. Traffickers don't go for people that are easy to recognize." Jason sighs. "For now, they're safe, but not if Danny keeps wandering around like an easy target in those tailor outfits. He looks rich, even if it's only lower first class. That will attract a lot more muggings."

"Someone will have to get close to them-"

"I can do it!" Tim shouts, cutting off Bruce, then shrinks into his chair in mortification as the family chat dies. Trying to sound less eager, he hastily adds, "You know, since I'm benched. Light work to befriend the Fentons."

"Smooth Tim." Cass laughs over the coms with his other siblings snickering in the background, and sinks into his chair.

After a moment, Bruce sighs, "Alright, Tim, you can befriend one of them, but not until your turn to judge goes by. I don't want people claiming a conflict of interest there."

Hell yeah! Tim got the job!

"Of course, Bruce."

"And no flirting."

"Spoilsport"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 2 #Different world means different beauty standards #Think the early 2000s vs the 2020s beauty standards #Also Danny doesn't realize he's the ideal #He's just walking around in his own little world #Dan just wants to be a clothing making dragon hording fabrics alone #Damian does love the designs as a artist and as his personal taste #Dead tired

2K notes · View notes

lightseoul · 26 days ago

Note

zeeeeee !! pretty please if you can, can you do number 13 ??? i love you so much and thank you in advance 🎀🫶🏻🥹🥹🥹🥹

anything for the love of my life @samtf <3 tagging also @irenne-stans, thank you for playing! this one was slightly out of my comfort zone but like i said, biodiversity is important or sumn like that...

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

13. "YOU DO KNOW THAT WE'RE IN PUBLIC, RIGHT?" (1.3k)

if you were to be completely frank, galas aren’t exactly your thing.

sure, the getting ready part can be extremely fun. there’s nothing like jamming to your favorite playlist while a full-on glam team bedazzles you with a shit ton of makeup and hairspray.

wearing designer gowns that cost way more than an arm and a leg for a night is great for pictures, too—pictures that you make sure to keep for days when the insecurities get to you more than they usually do and you need a reminder that you are a badass.

being able to reunite with your pro-hero friends is also an added bonus. you rarely get to see each other mainly because of their hectic and often conflicting schedules—usually, when most of the group are miraculously available, one or two are either assigned to an overseas mission or get called as an emergency contact.

but right now, as you’re moments from pulling up to the red carpet of the annual heroes’ gala, you wish for nothing more than to be in your comfy pajamas and baggy t-shirt, snuggled in your king-sized bed under a freshly washed duvet cover, finally making a dent on that new book you just picked up until you can’t keep your eyes open.

you take a shaky inhale, bracing yourself for the impending flash of cameras and the unfailingly overwhelming paparazzi experience.

your third year of this, and it’s still not getting any easier.

you sometimes forget why you endure this kind of torture.

but then that familiar, gruff voice reaches your ears.

“you okay?”

you look to your left and you’re instantly reminded of your why.

the smile that breaches your features is instinctive and not at all strained, despite the anticipatory anxiety stewing in your gut. you can’t help it—not when you’re met with the sight of him—all dapper in a freshly minted black suit with his usually unruly ash blonde hair styled and pushed back, revealing his handsome forehead.

you drink in the view a bit more, eyes roving over his face and down to his torso then back up.

you feel your smile growing.

“i am now.”

as if on cue, a tinge of scarlet shows up high on bakugou’s cheeks, and the man averts his gaze, evidently flustered.

“shut up.”

a delighted laugh erupts from you, which only causes the pro-hero who’s now staring at the road ahead of you, to flush even more.

relaxing into your seat, you sit in comfortable silence for a few more minutes until you finally arrive at the designated drop-off point, tens of cameramen and women pointed towards the car you’re in, all in anticipation for the arrival of #2 pro-hero dynamight.

you’re peering through the tinted window to your right when you feel a hand cover yours, and you shift to see bakugou looking at you expectantly.

“ready?”

taking your nod as the signal, bakugou opens the door to his left and gracefully steps out of the vehicle. almost instantaneously, the flashes and clicks of the cameras go off, and you find yourself having to squint from the waves of light that permeate through the barrier separating you from the crowd.

you’re shielded from all the ruckus in a matter of seconds, however, when bakugou arrives just outside where you’re sitting. he knocks on the door twice—in warning—like he’s done the last two times you’ve been his plus-one, before grabbing the handle and officially revealing you to the press.

a new surge of camera flashes greets you, and you fight the urge to scrunch up your eyes. the pro-hero offers you a hand, which you happily take, legs wobbly as you extend a heeled foot onto the pavement below. the gown you went with for the evening wasn’t the most forgiving in terms of movement, the high slit being the only reason why you even have mobility in your lower region in the first place.

once you’re stable on your two feet, bakugou completely encases the hand of yours he’s been holding with his, before dropping them low between the two of you and leading you toward the main red carpet.

you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles of your satin burnt orange gown with your free hand as you walk, acutely aware of the tens of eyes on you. you hear a man shout your boyfriend’s name, then another, and another who throws in yours, too.

you plaster on a smile when you hear them call out your name, like you’ve been instructed to by bakugou’s pr manager.

eventually, bakugou stops right at the center of the photo-op area, and you follow suit, pausing to stand at his right. you put forward your outer leg, the one that’s revealed under the slit, in order to elongate your form. at least, that’s what mina advised you to do while you were getting ready together back then for your first-ever red carpet event.

the motion prompts bakugou to glance at you, or your exposed leg, really, before mimicking your movement and forwarding his outer leg.

and that’s when you notice it.

“babe,” you start, “your—”

you turn toward the man, deciding it’s better if you just do the job yourself, before bending down to quickly tie his shoelaces. it takes you a minute, what with the heavily restricting fabric you’re wearing, but you eventually get it done.

when you straighten back up, though, you’re not greeted with a thanks.

instead, bakugou’s looking everywhere except at you, and that shade of scarlet from earlier is now back, decorating his beautiful features.

“what—”

you pause when bakugou shifts awkwardly beside you, and you barely catch him just as he hastily adjusts his suit pants.

the suit pants that are seemingly getting tighter by the second…

…because of his growing bulge.

you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to—you snort the second you see it, which immediately grants you a side-eye from the man.

“shut up.”

“bro,” you cough out, “are you being for real right now?”

“shut the fuck up,” he hisses, just imperceptibly enough so that your spectators can’t read his mouth.

you’re failing to fight the grin that’s threatening to take over your entire face. “you do know that we’re in public, right?”

“this is your fucking fault,” he spits, his body now angled a bit more toward you, maybe in an attempt to hide what little modesty he has left.

you gape at him. “wha—how?”

at that, he turns his back toward the cameramen just enough to shoot you a glare without them seeing. “it’s that fucking v-neck.”

he pauses for a second, red now creeping down his neck and his gaze dipping down to your chest before he spews, incredulous: “are you even wearing a bra?”

you’re about to tell him you had to forego the undergarment because of the relatively plunging neckline, but you decide last minute there’s something you want to try out.

shifting slightly so that bakugou’s somewhat facing the crowd again, you lean forward, invading his space just until your mouth’s a breadth away from his ear. the movement is so minuscule that you almost miss it, but the pro-hero shudders when your breath tickles his skin.

hook.

line.

and sinker.

“…i guess we’ll find out, huh?”

and just like that, you pull away and wrap an arm around the man’s waist, once again posing for the cameras.

and as you feel him turn and wrap his arm around your waist a few beats after, you find that, if anything, at least you’re sure of one thing that’s going to get you through the rest of this cursed evening.

and that’s seeing the exact look on his face later in the news.

#HEHEHE #👀#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bkg #2k milestone drabble

229 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 months ago

Note

Hi~~

I kinda here for the 6k

I am a huge fan of you btw.. I loved Ur eached and every batfamily plus Clark Kent stories

So can I get a sweet arranged marriage turn into love with Bruce or clerk ( can't pick between them)

I leave most decision upto you as I trust you just make it fluffy

And congratulations on your 6k. You deserve it

Thanks and bye

.⋆｡What is a Marriage｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

It is your wedding day, a joyous occasion for all, except you and your new husband

Warnings: regency!au, arranged marriage, misogyny, mention of drug rings, fluff WC: 909

6k Bingo Celebration

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

For as long as you could remember, you were taught that you would marry a lord and a rich one at that. While your brothers would marry to carry on your family’s name, you would be responsible for another family, another home and any children that your husband saw fit to give you. You would belong to a man that your father believed would be the most capable of giving the entire family a chance to climb the social ladder.

Part of you was excited for your debut upon the marriage mart. You dreamed of the gorgeous balls and beautiful gowns you would wear to catch the eye of a gentleman who would spoil you rotten with love and affection. Your mother’s sisters constantly told you stories of magical evenings with their future husbands as they began to court.

Yet only a few before your debut, those dreams were stomped out by your father’s announcement that you would be wed to a man you had never met in a week’s time. Shamefully, your escape attempts though childish, were unsuccessful and only served to have your last remaining privilege of choosing your own wedding dream taken away.

And so, here you were, sitting at someone else’s table, eating food picked out by a stranger as you sat next to your new husband whom you’ve already forgotten the name of. This was definitely not how you pictured your Wedding Breakfast, alone save for your husband and his butler, your father hadn’t even the decency to let your mother attend.

You sighed and picked up the newspaper your husband had abandoned a few minutes ago. Your husband’s blue eyes flicked over to you but you ignored him. The smudged ink of the headline drew your attention; ‘Masked Vigilante Exposes Drug Ring’. It made you scoff.

“Is there something the matter?” His deep voice cut through the silence of the dining room, aggravatingly sending a shiver down your spine. You refused to look at him.

“This vigilante, it seems he’s doing a better job at protecting Gotham than the police. A damn shame they’re incapable of doing their jobs properly.” You flicked to the next page, pretending to read as you gauged his reaction. Would your husband punish you for swearing and belittling other men as your father would have done? You were met only with the soft clink of silverware and the footsteps of his butler.

“More coffee Master Bruce?”

“Yes, thank you Alfred.” Bruce (what a modern name) cleared his throat and you finally made eye contact with him. “Are you a fan of this vigilante?” His voice tilted up like your brothers’ did when they teased you.

You twisted the heavy ring on your finger, your stomach tight as you waited for the inevitable cruel punchline of his joke. “He’s doing something to protect people. I think it’s noble.” His lips quirked up and you couldn’t help but remember the brief peck you had shared an hour ago, your first kiss.

“Do you?” A flash of anger burned in your stomach as heat crawled up your cheeks.

“Don’t patronise me.” Suddenly, his expression dropped. You watched him stutter over his words as he scrambled to explain what he meant. Alfred chuckled under his breath while he took your full plate of eggs and instead replaced it with some fresh fruit pastries.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t,” his broad shoulders dropped, “I’m sorry.” He almost looked like a sad puppy like this, his head lowered, eyes wide with a genuine remorse, his fluffy brown hair hanging down along his strong cheekbones. You almost felt bad about your outburst, almost.

“What is it that you want from this marriage? Children? A wife to obey your every whim? Who turns a blind eye to your indiscretions?” You hissed but he didn’t flinch, only taking a deep breath before he stood and rounded the table. Instead of pulling out the empty chair next to you, he knelt beside you, his hands taking yours.

“I want a companion, that is all. I know you had no choice in this marriage, and for that I apologise, it is not how I wanted this to go. But I can give you independence and freedom just by giving you my name and my wallet. I only ask that you humour me with trips to the city together, the opera, anywhere, as long as society sees us together.” He twisted your ring back so the bright purple amethyst sat right against your knuckle once more.

“I can do whatever I want?”

He reached up and gently cupped your cheek. “I am your servant. Ask me for anything, and it is yours.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you nuzzled into his foreign yet comforting touch.

“And what if I ask for your heart?”

“Then it is yours.” He said with a smirk and you couldn’t help but believe him. And as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand and then to your cheek, you wondered if this was what your mother’s sisters meant when they said that you would just know if he was the one.

Perhaps you could be more than a commodity to be sold. Maybe Bruce could be more than the man who bought you. You glanced at the headline again as another feeling stirred in your gut. Perhaps, there was more to life than what you had been told.

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3sloth @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria @relatednative @starboygf

@snedhdh @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @kobaltdragon @amarillyssnowdrop

216 notes · View notes

delulu4anime · 1 month ago

Text

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢⇥ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴛᴀʟꜱ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ⇥ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ! ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ x ɴᴜʀꜱᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ⇥ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴜʟᴏɢʏ⇥ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇx ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴇ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟᴀᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ⇥ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇꜱᴄᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ, ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴘᴀɴᴛɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ, ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ (ɪᴇ. ꜱʟᴜᴛᴛʏ).

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ⇥ 2.5ᴋ+

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴍᴏɴ⇥ 🔞ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇʏᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ🔞- ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴʟʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛꜱᴜᴋᴋɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴜꜰꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜꜰꜰ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪꜱ ʙʟᴏᴡɴ. ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴇᴀꜱɪʟʏ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴜᴀᴅᴇᴅ ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ! ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʜʏᴍɴꜱ⇥ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴅ ɪꜱ 'ʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ/ᴡʜʏ ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ/ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ɪᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ

Tsukishima wasn't sure why he had agreed to do something so...cheesy. You had whined about trying something new in the bedroom and he reluctantly agreed because despite it all he did love you. He loved you so much that he was willing to subject himself to wearing a cheap hospital gown that was a size too small and nothing else underneath. All apart of the role play you insured him, but now that he laid on the bed waiting for you to come out of the bathroom he just felt silly. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared up at the ceiling questioning it all.

The aircon had turned on a few minutes before and he desperately wanted to use the blanket on the bed to cover up. He was the ill patient who couldn't pay for his medical bill while you were the helpful nurse who was willing to work something out. He even took the time to memorize the cheesy lines to enhance the role play for your sake of course. All he wanted to do was touch you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear while he pulled those sounds from you he loved so much. Besides this wasn't even realistic the more he laid there and thought about it. He had insurance and with the paycheck he got from playing volleyball he was more than covered. Plus who would even accept sex as a-

"Hello sir. I understand you're in need of some medical assistance." You called out sweetly from the doorway of the bathroom.

Tsukishima looked over at you and his eyes widened at the sight before him. The stereotypical nurse outfit hugged your body in all the right places. The neckline dipping down far enough to see your cleavage and if he looked hard enough he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric of your costume. His gaze moved down to where the hem of the dress lay at the top of your plush thighs. There was a sliver of your thighs spilling over the edge of the lacy stockings that adorned your skin. And those red heels? Fuck, did that make his dick twitch. He could feel his cheeks heating up as he met your gaze again and his mouth suddenly felt dry.

"Y-Yes." Tsukishima replied in a bit of a shaky tone.

"Wonderful. I'm going to start with checking your vitals." You said as you started to make your way over him. Your heels clicking against the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom.

Each step you took caused his heart rate to increase. This was just suppose to be a simple role play that he had to get through before he was able to bury himself in his favorite spot. He didn't think something this silly would affect him so much. He shifted slightly on the bed and tried to adjust the hospital gown though it was futile at this point. His gaze not leaving you as you picked up the clipboard that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed; one that you often used for your remote job at home. You pretended to look it over before you let out a dramatic sigh and looked over at him. His heart skipping a beat as he saw the way you puffed out your bottom lip.

"Looks like you didn't put any form of payment down. How are you expected to pay for your visit today?" You said as you tilted her head.

"I...um," Tsukishima said in a hoarse tone before he cleared his throat. "I have another way to pay that doesn't involve money."

Goddamnit, this was like something straight out of a cheesy porno but it felt so exhilarating. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked up at you from his spot on the bed. He knew his hard on wasn't exactly subtle anymore but he didn't care; it was your fault anyways and you'd be taking care of it soon enough. Your brow pinches together as if you were confused and it only made him want to skip the dialog and bend you over the bed. To pull those sweet nosies from you and see that expression when you come undone for him.

"And what way is that sir?" You said and he couldn't take it anymore.

He didn't hesitate to reach over and grab your arm as he pulled you onto the bed. He immediately pinned you to the bed and settled himself in between your legs. He tore the flimsy hospital gown off and tossed it elsewhere in the room before he grabbed your plush thighs that laid across his. He watched as the hem of your dress rode up and his breath hitches when he spots those lacy, red panties. You really were going to be the death of him.

"So pretty." He breathed out and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze.

"S-Sir what are you-"

He suddenly moved one of his hands away from your thighs and covered your mouth before you could even finish your sentence. His hazel eyes move from your panties and up to meet your gaze; the hunger in his eyes evident.

"Shut up. I told you I have my own way of paying for my stay today. Now you're gonna be a good girl and help me feel better aren't you?" He said in that condescending tone he often used when you both got intimate like this.

This wasn't exactly what you had planned for. He was suppose to tell you some sob story that would make you feel sorry for him. You'd cave and tell him not to worry about payment and you'd take care of him regardless. You planned on teasing him before climbing on top and sealing the deal. However, this was an unexpected but not an unwelcome twist.

You meekly nod your head as your breathing shifts now that he was on top of you. Tsukishima hummed above you as he moved his hand away from your mouth. His slender fingertips brushing over your jawline before he ran it down the column of your neck and to your cleavage. You gasp at the way the flimsy fabric comes undone just by a simple tug. Your breasts a little more exposed now and he didn't hesitate to move the fabric away completely; his fingertips easily taking advantage of this. He took one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger then lightly pulled which caused you to whimper.

"I don't know how you walk around and get anything done when you wear something like this. Something so revealing," He breathes out as he lets go of your nipple and rough pushes up the hem of your dress so it bunches around your waist. "A sweet little nurse like you shouldn't be wearing this y'know? Someone could take advantage of you." He said as one hand rested on your plush stomach while the other reached in between your legs and brushed his fingertips over the damp fabric of your panties.

You let out a moan at the way his fingertips feel against your panties which only encourages him to press his thumb against your clothed clit more.

"You gonna answer me or you just gonna keep making those pathetic noises?" Tsukishima said as his gaze became lidded with desire. Seeing you like this underneath him would always be one of his favorite sights.

"I-I haven't had anyone take advantage of m-me." You whine out as you start to shift your hips up to move against his fingertips more.

Your eyes widened when you feel a tug and the sound of your panties ripping. Before you could even say anything you could see that look in his and that smirk spreading over his lips.

"Open your mouth my sweet little nurse."

And you did just that without any hesitation. Your brow furrowed slightly as you felt the fabric of your ripped panties touch your tongue. Your little noise muffled now and for a moment Tsukishma thought bout taking them out of your mouth. However, there was something so lewd about seeing you like this; looking so desperate and ready for him. He hums as he wraps his hand around his cock and leans back on his thighs to look down at your body spread beneath him; his hand starting to move up and down lazily. A bead of precum starting to form at the tip as he lets out a shaky breath.

"You're one slutty little nurse. Would you really would let me use this pussy to heal my ailment?" Tsukishima taunted as a sly smile spreads over his lips while his hand continues to glide over his cock.

You squirm under his gaze and all you can do is meekly nod your head at his words that only served to make you wetter.

"Such a good girl." Tsukishima hummed out before he grabbed the panties out of your mouth and tossed them elsewhere. He wasn't going to be able to wait anymore nor did he care how cheesy this idea had been before. He needed you and that's all that mattered.

You can't help but let out a whimper when he finally slides into your heat and the groan he lets out causes a shiver to run down your spine. The stretch was what you had been wanting to feel since the moment you started this role play with your boyfriend. His moves both of his hands to grip the back of your thighs and it was borderline painful the way his nails dug into your skin; a pain that blended into the pleasure you were feeling. You both seemed to be taking a moment before he pushed against your thighs so that they were a little closer to your chest. You could feel him slowly pulling out before moving his hips back inside you.

His lidded gaze focused on where your body's were connecting. His pace agonizingly slow and you couldn't help but grip the bedsheets underneath you both tightly. You almost uttered out the request for him to move more when he spoke up first.

"F-Fuck this pussy feels too good," Tsukishima moaned out before his gaze moved to meet yours. "t-this is exactly the treatment I needed."

He slowly pulled back out and you expected him to continue at the slow pace before he suddenly slammed his hips against you. You let out a squeak which caused the corners of his mouth to tilt upwards at your reaction; that was all the motivation he needed to set a harsh pace. Your breast bouncing with each movement of his hips and your grip on the sheets tighten even more. The way he filled you up was something you hoped you'd never get use to; it was like you were made for one another, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Even now as he bullied your cervix with the tip of his cock you couldn't help but look up at him with hearts in your eyes. His grip on your thighs tightened for a moment before he shifted. He easily folded your body into a mating press as his movements only seemed to increase; the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with your combined moans.

"B-Baby p-plea-"

"That's unprofessional don't you think?" Tsukishima pants out. "Referring to your patient by a pet name. Show a...h-haa...little decorum." Tsukishima says as he looks down at you as if you were some pathetic being when in reality it was taking everything in him not to cum inside you right now. "Do you always talk to your patients like that? Bet you do. So they can put you in positions like this."

You could help but let out a string of whimpers and moans at the way he seemed to taunt you with his words. Combing that with his movements it was no wonder the pressure in your lower stomach was starting to become deliciously unbearable.

"That's not true s-sir." You whimper out as you can feel tears of pleasure starting to form in your waterline.

"Oh but I think it most certainly is true. This slutty cunt of yours is just sucking me right in. I bet you only accept patients that can't pay for their medical treatment in an ethical way so they can pay you back like this."

This only earns him a string of whines and moans as he continues to snap his hips against yours.

"Sir please. Please don't sto-haaa." You were barely even able to get the full sentence out before Tsukishima was letting out a breathy chuckle.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes the way your red heels seem to move each time your bodies collided. He could feel his release approaching soon and without thinking much he snaked his hand down between your bodies. His slender fingertips brushing against your sensitive nub and that only pushed you closer to the edge.

"C'mon little nurse. Won't you help a-oh fuck...a suffering man?" Tsukishima continues to taunt despite how close he was. His fingers rubbing even faster and you couldn't help but tighten around him.

You were too fucked out to even go along with the role play anymore. All you wanted was to feel the release that was approaching quicker and quicker by the second.

"H-Haa baby...I'm close." Tsukishima grunted out and his hips were only able to thrust a few more times before you were coming undone around him. Your hands shooting out to grab onto his shoulders. Your eyes squeezing shut as you tilt your head back and lets out a sinful moan at the way your orgasm crashed into you.

Seeing you like this was all he needed to succumb to his own release and with a sharp cry of your name he finished inside you. His cock twitch ever so often before his body falls on top of yours. Both your heavy pants filled the room for a moment before you let out a chuckle and buried your face into the crook of his neck. Your legs and arms wrapping around him as you placed a soft kiss on his temple.

"Well you were surprisingly more cooperative than I thought you'd be with this." You said in a teasing tone which only caused him to let out a huff.

"I only did it because you wouldn't stop whining about it." Tsukishima murmurs into your neck as he places an affectionate kiss against your skin.

"Says the one who got really into it." You said with a chuckle as you shifted underneath him. There was a brief moment before he sighs and nuzzles into you closer.

"Maybe role playing isn't so bad." He replies with a hum.

ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ

ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

#hq smut #haikyu!!#haikyu!! smut #tsukishima kei #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #tsukishima smut #smut #kinktober #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #delulu4anime #roleplay #anime smut #fanfiction smut #fanfiction

139 notes · View notes