#the green fabric she gave me her extras and it’s what I made my green sideless surcoat from in my last medieval post haha
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strawberryteabunny · 8 months ago
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Met up with the local historical costuming society to tour a Golden Age mansion 💙
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yearningandstillnotlearning · 2 months ago
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𝑺𝑻𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻,
𝑮𝑬𝑻 𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑵.
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A/N: okay bear with me, this is a ‘poem’ (i don’t know what else to call it) that i wrote and when i read over it i realised some girls here would appreciate this imagery with their own infatuations, so whilst its not written like fan-fiction i felt generous enough to share it and i hope at least 1 of you will like it, best part is that you can picture any one of your favourite girls!!! Instead of a name i call the other character “Pretty”, so keep that in mind while reading, and again, this isn’t written like fan-fiction, but still i would appreciate it if you gave it a shot and told me what you think ♡
tags: lesbian only, think anyone!, femme!r, metaphors, suggestive, nsfw undertones but they are so slight and hidden beneath the wordplay that i can’t really count this as nsfw, sadomasochistic in a way, did i forget something? Let me know!
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
I don’t want a cottage, i don’t want a life in simplicity and independency. I want a castle, i want an abandoned mansion adorned by vines hugging it long after solitude fell cold and loveless upon its very walls.
I want to hear the floors creak with every step, i want to hear the tremble of the floors effortlessly mirror the tremble of her legs, i want to have her, Pretty, and i want to keep her on her toes. I want, behind her gaze, to be as unpredictable as the grass around the mansion, a neglected ring of hues of green. Tall, short, eaten, rotten.
I want to give her the world, and i want to make her spin in the middle of it, i want to give her everything and make her feel like in a moment she could have nothing.
I want to make her dizzy and i want to make her euphoric, i want to see her scared and i want to hold her close, be the one to comfort her, Pretty.
I want our clothes to dance against each other when the weather drops and i take her out on walks, on the endless garden we’ve named ‘our hearts’ that no matter how long it’s been there for, untouched, unloved, uncared for, it just never seems to end.
I want her to let me tear her cotton fabrics apart and off, torn by grinding teeth and claw-like nails, hungry like a centuries-old vampire, lifetimes of self control and respect disintegrated in the very same time span Pretty’s clothes get ripped. Carefully laboured fabric, soft as freshly laved hair, made with the selfish, miserable thought of this granting them extra bread on their dinner plate.
And she would, she would let me tear her apart in one shared gaze. She would let me hold her and scratch her open, she would let me wound her because she knows i’ll be the one to heal her up again. And she knows i’ll do it before she can build the thought of asking me to.
She would let me darken her vision under the noon sun, heating and blinding. She would let me bruise her neck, violet splats trailing down her body like a rosemary. She would let me reach her depths and spin them around, it’d be nothing new to her, as long as her world is intertwined with mine she’s always spinning, she’s always dizzy. She would let me cradle her head as i treat her like fresh meat in aching, starved hands, because i’ve done so another hundred times, and each one she only seems more unwilted than the last.
Because she knows she’ll get me back.
Because she plans on making my darkest nights luminous, and she knows i’ll let her. The story is always the same; she unwraps me like a one-of-a-kind royal heirloom, her touches vigilant, precise on what she unfolds, what lies beneath her hands. And she knows i don’t fancy peace, her words forming clear juxtaposition to her touches, there are no blurred lines, my sense of touch and my sense of hearing are in two completely different words, and yet they co-exist in the pits of my stomach.
But like every child asking their parent to tell them a bedtime story, it doesn’t matter if its always the same, they always enjoy it the same. At the end of the day they fall asleep to it every time.
I’ll let her unwrap the lace off the corset, i’ll let her loosen every layer, watch the silks fall off my form, i’ll let her tell me the harshest things that leave my throat closing in on itself, as her hands soothe around my flesh getting me to ease up. She’ll rock me back and forth from being velvety to being cruel, i know it, and i will let her.
Because it takes two to dance, if you’re unable to match the other’s rhythm what’s the fun? It’s only enjoyable when you’re both having fun. 🫀
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ladykailitha · 11 months ago
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The Harrington Pattern Part 13
This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.
This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.
Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
****
Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.
“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”
“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.
Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.
“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.
Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”
Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.
“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”
Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”
Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”
Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.
“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”
She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”
Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”
Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”
She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”
Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.
On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.
“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”
She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.
Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.
“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.
“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”
Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”
“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”
Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”
Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”
“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”
Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.
“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”
Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.
They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.
“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”
Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”
Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”
“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”
Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.
“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.
Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”
Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?
Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”
Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.
In short, Steve hated her on sight.
Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.
Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”
Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”
Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”
Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”
He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.
He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.
“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.
Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.
Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”
“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”
Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.
Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.
About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.
“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”
Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.
“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”
Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”
“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”
Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.
“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”
“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”
Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”
Karen nodded.
“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.
Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.
It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.
“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.
Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”
The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.
“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.
Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.
“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”
Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”
“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.
Then there came a loud honk.
Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”
He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.
He slid into the front seat.
“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”
Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”
Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.
Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.
And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.
“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.
Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.
Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.
****
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@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system
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casualsnickers · 9 months ago
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Month of Emmet Quick Write #3
Prompt #3: Battle
It's a bit peculiar that Subway Master Emmet wears white all the time. The commuters just think it's a 'twins' thing- the depot agents know better. In other words, Emmet's tailor hates him.
*Inspired directly by @kobandan. Their comic for day two absolutely activated the few neurons in my noggin.
Read the whole thing below the cut.
Wrappers crunched. Small talk and loud chatter alike filtered in and out of the office as footsteps echoed on the polished linoleum.
“C’mon Ingo! Relax a little!” From within her chair right beside Ingo, Elesa reached across the table into the takeout bag, pulling out a handful of loose fries. “You know, there’s a concert that’s gonna be happening in Virbank this weekend,” she hummed, taking a sip of her drink. “The one with that singer that you liked back when we were teenagers. What’s his name again? Piers, I think? And then you got Emmet into it too!” Elesa then brightened.  “I know! You should come with me! Both of you guys! I have extra tickets and I think it would be nice- to reintroduce you to that kind of stuff.” Elesa playfully nudged Ingo in the ribs with her elbow. “A fun little bonding activity~ Well? Come on. What do you think, Go-Go?
“A…band? Ah, but aren’t musical concerts quite… loud?” Ingo replied hesitantly. It had been some time since he had returned from Hisui and he had found that the modern world was… well, to put it mildly, ‘loud’ would be an understatement. The Battle Subway was loud enough- Ingo often found himself making a beeline to his and Emmet’s office to recover from the mental strain of working in such a vivacious environment. But he found himself warming up to the idea more and more as his friend enthusiastically elaborated, taking small bites out of the ‘loaded burger’ that Elesa had so quickly jumped to buy for him.
               At that moment, the door to the main office clattered open. Boots clicked on linoleum. Fabric shuffled. Keys jangled.
               In strode Emmet, a massive grin on his face as he closed the office door with one foot, hanging his hat on the stand and ripping off his gloves. Upon seeing both Ingo and Elesa leaning up against one another, the man practically beamed. He opened his mouth to speak. Elesa beat him to the punch.
“Em... Honey... Sweetheart. What in dragons’ name happened to you?” Elesa immediately set down her food but made no attempt to rise, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted expression as she gave the man a slow once-over. “Your clothes!” The woman then stiffened, crossing her arms. “Tell me you didn’t go and service another engine with your battling gear. You have a bad habit of forgetting to change.”
“I. Did not!” Emmet pulled off his subway coat and half-fell into an empty spinning chair, picking his feet up as his chair rocketed into the wall. He then pushed himself over to his desk and eagerly pulled over his stack of maintenance documents. “This isn’t oil. It’s dust. Soot. Ash.”
               Emmet’s entire outfit- his usual sparkling white slacks, jacket, hat, and dress shoes- each were stained and smudged with varying levels of grime, each atrocious and each downright offensive. His hat and slacks were splashed in sickly purples and greens, speckled black patches like soot decorating his shoes and slack edges. His jacket had numerous holes in the tail end as though a dragon-type had gnawed on it and a few buttons had either been torn close to falling off or were gone entirely. A massive chunk of Emmet’s hat- including the Gear Station insignia pin- were just completely gone, exposing the stuffing and the nylon inside.
Even Emmet’s standard black dress shirt and gloves were completely ruined. The starched collar and sleeves of Emmet’s shirts had what looked to be bleach spots on them, one of his shirt tails completely untucked and shredded to bits. His black gloves were almost completely white to the fingertips, the leather around the knuckles- concertedly- missing as if cleanly taken out with a hole punch.
Emmet didn’t look the least concerned that half of the skin along his arms and a section of his leg were completely visible, instead seeming to enjoy the attention as he tapped his foot against the tile. His own hair- messy and half-alive with static, was blown backward as if Emmet had decided to go skydiving for the first portion of his shift.
               Ingo raised an eyebrow. An inkling of his mind raised the question that he wasn’t nearly as concerned for his brother as he should’ve been. As if it was something to be expected and just as easily tolerated.  “You are unusually chipper for a man that’s filthy and practically indecent,” Ingo murmured, locking eyes with Emmet who leaned his head against his hand lazily. “You look as though you’ve crawled through the insides of an unmaintained tender.” Ingo took a long swig from his drink, narrowing his eyes. “Slept in one, too.”
               Emmet smirked. “You’re one to talk. The water ran black when you were reintroduced to modern plumbing,” he drawled, still staring unflinchingly into Ingo’s eyes. “You thought being dirty was normal. And you were covered in actual, literal dirt.”
               Ingo immediately felt his face heat up. “That is not the point here!” he claimed, not quite meeting Emmet’s eyes as he crossed his arms. “Why do you look as though you’ve strapped yourself to the tracks and let numerous trains run over you?”
               Elesa snorted, almost choking on her drink. Her entire face went flush as she began laughing. “That’s one way to put it, Iggs!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Elesa” Emmet chided, his own face beginning to redden as he scooted his chair purposefully away from the two of them. “That is not what happened.”
“Would you care to explain then, Emmet?”
               Emmet grinned before unclipping his pokémon belt and setting it on the desk for both Elesa and Ingo to see. Almost every single pokéball was in the same state of disrepair: burn marks, scrapes, dents, and dings in each one. “A verrry powerful trainer visited my line today!” Emmet beamed. “They arrived with a looot of super strong pokémon! It was very cool! They brought friends! A lot of strong friends! It was fantastic!” Emmet then hunkered down into himself, bringing his shaking hand to his chin as he snatched up a loose piece of paper, frantically scribbling down barely legible words. “I should remember that. ‘Follow Me’ on a bulky pokémon- preferably attached with a defense-boosting item or maybe leftovers. Skill Link Ability pokémon with a Rocky Helmet maybe? Or perhaps Loaded Dice would be better?”
“Okay, so your battle was crazy,” Elesa interjected, carefully but concertedly scanning the massive amounts of damage in Emmet’s outfit. “But how did your clothes get so bad? What’d you do? Stand in front of your pokémon while they were fighting?”
               Ingo involuntarily snorted, struggling to conceal his laughter after remembering that his good friend Dawn used to perform that exact same scenario when they were still in Hisui- to psych out the few wielders that existed. That or just mess about. Ingo could perfectly imagine Emmet doing the same right in front of his Eelektross.
“Overheat,” Emmet started, pointing to the massive burn streaks staining his shoes. “Acid Spray.” Another gesture to his heavily bleached shirt. “Bug Buzz.” The torn threads in his shirt. “Discharge.” Another pointed finger at the torn fabric on his jacket sleeves. “The battle was verrry serious! So much fun! They used all kinds of new strategies that I haven’t seen before! They brought a bunch of new pokémon! Them and their friends! There were six of them!” Emmet exclaimed, his grin growing wider and wider as he rocked back-and-forth in his chair, causing the frame to squeak. “Each one stronger and smarter than the last!”
“Did you at least win, Em?” Elesa asked tiredly. “You better have. Getting all that fixed is gonna cost a pretty penny.”
               Emmet’s grin almost stretched across his face as he fully leaned back in his chair. “All six of them won against me! Just barely! It was the most fun I’ve had in months! I hope they return to the Super Doubles Line soon so that I can battle them again!”
“Wait. The Super Doubles Line?” Elesa clarified. “As in, the ‘challenging trainer usually gets obliterated by the seventh car’ Doubles Line? The ‘nothing but depot agents’ Doubles Line? The- ”
“You can just say that you haven’t prevailed on those particular tracks,” Ingo teased, stealing the rest of the spare fries at the bottom of the bag. “I would never presumably figure out that a record exists of how many times you have been ejected from the Super Singles, Doubles, and Multi Lines. And I would certainly- never- look at those records.” Ingo then blinked innocently at Elesa as he scooted his chair just the tiniest inch away from the woman who looked as though she were about to strangle him.
“You do not have a record!”
“We do!” Emmet replied snappily. “All trainers have their battle facility records locked onto their IDs. It is not hard to find.”
“Nevermind. You’re being overly ominous again and we’re not going down that road. But the Super Doubles Line? Wow. Must’ve been some kind of monsters to get all the way through- the six of them in one day- just to destroy you… You had fun?”
“Yyyup!”
“What on earth are you guys feeding the Depot Agents on your supers lines anyway?” Elesa groaned, pointedly asking Ingo instead of Emmet who had begun to whizz through his papers. “I tried getting through once- way too strong for me.”
“We feed them coal slag and commuter debris,” Ingo answered with a stoic face, crumbling up the wrapper of his burger and tossing it in the nearby trash can. “Food wrappers. Plastic. Newspapers. Chewing gum. Some rust scraps off of repaired engines prevent any potential iron deficiencies.”
“Ah, but you are forgetting grease, Ingo,” Emmet chimed in. “Grease- Curve rail grease is essential for a depot agent’s balanced diet. That and stripped screws. And maybe a healthy serving of handrail and seat sweat.”
“Eugh. You guys are absolute loons,” Elesa responded without missing a beat, fully leaning against Ingo as the woman took a joking picture of Emmet in his atrocious work attire looking completely unbothered. She then sent the picture to Skyla unprompted. “You know, I’ve never seen someone so happy to have lost six times in a row at their place of work,” Elesa commented snidely under her breath. “Did you at least steal some pointers from them like you usually do, Em?”
               At that, Emmet whipped out a small, battered notepad from his coat pocket, eagerly showing off the multitudes upon multitudes of detailed battling graphs, paragraphs of messy handwriting, and heavily highlighted sections. “I did! And now! I want to recruit more pokémon to the team!” He said it more to himself than to Elesa or Ingo, pulling open his desk drawer in order to pull out a thick, heavily-banded book that looked close to bursting.
“Oh sweet dragons above- you’re pulling out Ol’ Reliable, Em? What’s the occasion? Gonna make some more abridgements? Honestly, you should just have the library make a copy- that’s a whole concrete brick right there.”
“Says the woman with five hand-banded design template books twice the size in her house,” Emmet snarked back, struggling to open the cover of his tome. “Let’s see. Eenie, meenie, miney… huh. That’s odd.”
“What’s the matter?” Ingo asked, taking a massive bite out of his second burger. He was quick to wipe the sauce off of his cheek. “What are you looking for?”
“Foreign pokémon.” Emmet then paused, scowling before stowing the book away back under his desk, crossing his arms. “Foreign pokémon,” he grunted. “Abilities. I don’t know the abilities of the pokémon I battled against today. I don’t even remember what the names of the species are.”
“Emmet. You do realize that the Battle Subway collects and archives trainer data during registration, don’t you?” Ingo piped up. “The free connectivity to the C-Gear? To Entralink? To the recommended vs recorder? You were the one to tell me that all trainers must register their preferred pokémon with an attendant before they even so much as board a subway car. Unless perhaps… you did forget about that particular clause…?”
               Emmet was out of his seat in a moment’s notice, the seams in his shirt beginning to splinter and pop apart as the man shoved his hat back onto his head and grabbed his jacket off of the hook, marching squarely over toward the office door. “Be back soon. Next destination: the attendant’s desk.” The door slammed shut after him.
               A moment passed by before Elesa once again reached across the table and pulled out a carton of onion rings alongside Emmet’s burger that he hadn’t even touched. “I call dibs.”
“Absolutely not. I paid for those.”
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aclowntiny · 2 years ago
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Down the Drain- Barista!San x Female!Reader (College AU)
San has literally said he likes the idea of being a barista so here you go Sannie boy 😘😂 first time getting one of the boys as a barista hehe. Also, we’ve all had that professor 💀
Word Count: 2571 | College AU | Warnings: very slight language, me throwing in a blackpink reference cuz we love the bangers 😌
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All your money was going to go down the drain. You couldn’t believe your campus had found yet another way to scam you. Yet you couldn’t really find it in yourself to complain this time. You knew they had to know exactly what they were doing, though. Whether it worker or not, your eyes were on them.
That day, you’d decided to make a rare stop at the campus café for a cold drink; it was just one of those days, a long one that could use a little refreshing pick-me-up, and you really didn’t take advantage of there being student baristas right around the corner of a big study floor enough. As per usual, the line was sort of long, but not out to the door, and you had a few hours of classes, so in went the airpods as you stood, trying not to stare at the girl in front of you’s bright pink backpack with its dangly Kuromi keychain the whole time. You did wonder where she got it from, though.
Two songs later, you were next, pulling your airpods out and popping them into your case as you glanced up toward the barista counter. And that was where you saw your campus’s latest scam.
Cafés hiring hot people was the biggest money pit ever and they knew it. The guy working the left register had your heart pounding the moment you laid eyes on him. He was average height with short dark hair, sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones. The way his arms flexed from their rolled-up sleeves made you suspect he was quite fit beneath the oversized black button-up beneath his apron. As he waved to Kuromi girl, he gave a dazzlingly bright smile. Oh, no, he had dimples. Come on.
“I can help you right here.”
Snapping out of your reverie, you stepped forward to his register. San, his name was, according to the handwritten chalk name tag pinned onto his green apron fabric. Suddenly, you could hardly remember how to speak. “Uh, hi.”
“Hi.” There went that smile again. Sir, your mother must be proud. “What can I get started for you?”
“Oh, well, I…” Internally you cursed yourself for stuttering so much, but finally you remembered the name of your favorite iced drink.
“That’s a good one! Have you ever tried it with flavoring in it?”
“No,” you shook your head, “I haven’t.” You were a creature of habit, pretty much reciting the same thing every time you approached the register.
“You should! It’s so good!”
You asked him which one he recommended, and after he told you you inquired how much extra it was.
“Since you’ve never tried it and it’s my fault you are,” he chuckled, “I’ll just throw it in for free!”
And he wasn’t even a dickish frat boy. Great. “Wow, thank you!”
“Hey, it’s my pleasure, er…what’s your name?”
“It’s (y/n).”
“(y/n),” he repeats as he scribbles it on your cup and sets it down, and you hate that he even makes that sound good, “well, I hope you like your drink like this, (y/n)!”
“I’m sure I will,” you reply with a smile as you return San’s wave, heart leaping as he follows the gesture with running a hand through his shiny black locks.
Curse that café for making you spend money.
~
Two days later, you had the same class schedule, that same long break, and what the heck, why not see if San was working? It was kind of stupid how much you looked forward to the possibility of seeing him, you mused as you passed beneath the green rows of trees planted along the walkway, but that didn’t really change the feeling, so along you went with your stupid hopes of coinciding schedules.
The line was, once again, not quite to the door. Pretty good. This time, the girl in front of you had a blink hammer keychain, so you chatted with her for a bit. Apparently her name was Rina and she was an engineering major. Good for her. San called you up by the time you guys finished exchanging socials, mouth falling into an o shape the moment you stepped up.
Your heartbeat went erratic again, momentary friendship and engineering talk distracting you from preparing intelligent conversation like you told yourself you were going to.
“(y/n), right?”
Your jaw dropped. “Oh, uh, yeah. I can’t believe you remembered with all the people you see in a day!”
“I try to remember people. Plus, you tried my concoction, so that was extra memorable!”
Well, whatever made you memorable. “I’m good with names, too. I remember yours.”
He clapped a hand over his name tag. “What is it?”
“San!” You giggled.
“Be honest, was it the free add-in?”
You shook your head, grip tightening on your backpack straps. “I would have remembered anyway.”
Luckily, he smiled at that. “I’m glad. Well, what am I getting started today?”
~
There you were again. All your income going down the drain.
“Hey, (y/n)!”
“Hey, San!” You waved; your heart still had a few things to say about that dimpled smile and- as you saw on the day he wore a t-shirt, your suspicions confirmed- those arms, but by now you’ve become enough of a regular at the campus café that talking to the incredibly cute barista was practically part of your weekly assignments.
“Is it hot outside?”
“Not too bad,” you replied, “I think the weather people over-exaggerated. It’s, like, short sleeves and jeans weather.”
“Not long sleeves and shorts weather?” San teased.
“Short sleeves and jeans weather and long sleeves and shorts weather are different and you know it!”
San’s dark, shiny eyes drifted upward in thought. “You know what? They really are. Jeans one is more on the warm side, sleeves is more on the chilly.”
“See? Thank you. You appreciate me.”
“I always do, (y/n),” San agreed with a nod, setting your cup on the counter, “my favorite regular!”
“Oh, you have to say that to everyone,” you waved him off with a blush.
“I don’t have to say anything except ‘What can I get started for you?’”
“Well, thanks,” you giggled, pulling off to sit on the café couch and fake-scroll instagram while you snuck surreptitious glances at San.
Soon the harsh fluorescent institutional lights of your college’s building complex didn’t seem so bright, your focus having been centralized for a little too long. You’d ordered a drink with whipped cream on top, and the way the baristas deftly handled the compressed canisters, loading them into an actual whipped cream gun, made you almost want to become one.
Maybe you’d apply once that huge project for history was done. The next day, you planned on shopping for materials in order to build it at a table in the library on the following Monday. It was an insanely elaborate diorama that probably would have been more fun if the entire unit wasn’t crammed into two weeks’ time. You didn’t generally have any problems with your professor, but couldn’t help wondering if he’d lost his mind with that one.
Oh, well. If he wanted all those countries to have a ‘history tower’ as he called them, then you’d give him a history tower. The toweriest darn history tower he could ask for…or whatever would earn you praise and an A.
“(y/n)?” San’s voice cut through your historic reverie.
Shaking your head, you grabbed your backpack and rose from the couch once more, crossing the forest green tile floor to the drink drop-off. “Sorry, I was just thinking about assignments and stuff.”
“Oh, yeah, I totally get it, my dance class is getting intense with the choreographies we have to make. I almost gave someone who ordered a hot cocoa someone else’s strawberry smoothie earlier I was so distracted.”
Dance class? Choreography? At this point, it was practically a drinking game for ever time your brain dropped a wow. “Oh, that’s really cool. Mine’s just a history diorama,” you chuckle.
“On what?”
“The Netherlands of all places.”
“That’s so cool! I don’t know much about them, so maybe you can teach me.”
“I’ll do my best. It’ll be a crash course for sure- not exactly my specialty.”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll do great,” he told you warmly before his coworker handed him another drink; he gave you an apologetic glance. “I have a large cafe latte for Omar!”
You waved.
“See you next week,” he loudly whispered with a wink.
~
Next week was a bit different than your usual café run. This time, you’d been long situated at a library table, an intensely focused mess of glue, toothpicks, printed photos, paragraphs, drawings, plastic, and far, far too much more. You were going to build that tower until it broke you, then get some sugar, caffeine, and whatever adrenaline boost the glow in your heart from San gave you, then build some more. So far, it was murder to get the thing to stand despite its plastic supports. It was far later in the afternoon than you usually even got a drink, but such was a three-dimensional cultural history of the Netherlands.
“Aw, come on,” you muttered as a paragraph about Dutch paintings- Vanitas still lives, ironically- slid off its toothpick, “you were just fine a minute ago.”
It was sliding off the plastic dowels you were using to hold up the miniature spire. Sighing, you affixed it to a papier-mâché flower instead. This was ridiculous; you were busting your ass over basically a high school assignment all because your teacher wanted to send you off on your own for two weeks. Maybe, you thought venomously, he should have gotten caught up on grading papers so he could treat us like adults in return. Yeah, the fun had definitely leaked out of the project along with the last milliliter of glue, probably because it was individual. If you had a partner, you reflected as you crumpled more paper and cut another dowel.
Little did you know the effect that dowel would have on your day. As soon as you lifted your tower to insert it, a flower drifted ominously down. Your gaze softened. You blinked as a paragraph fell.
“No,” you whispered, but it was too late. The entire top decoration slid out along with the main support dowel, flopping miserably onto the table. Face crumpling, you joined it.
Bringing yourself to lift your head up was going to be hard. This was a whole day’s work down the drain. You just needed a good grade, wanted to do well and have something cute and fun, but all your energy had gone to-
“(y/n)?”
You peeled your face from between your crossed, horizontally-lain arms, despondent eyes falling upon San. You perked up slightly, getting your hair in place even if you could only muster a small smile. It didn’t escape your notice that he had a drink in each hand, but wasn’t wearing his apron. Maybe he had a date or a study session or something. If you weren’t already sad, you might’ve been at that.
“I saw how hard you were working on that,” he pouted, “I made you a drink to celebrate and everything.”
“You- you made that for me?” You asked, nodding toward what appeared to be your usual in his left hand.
“Of course. You’ve earned it. Working hard and all that.”
“Yeah,” you waved an arm over the carnage on the table, “but look at where that got me. I can’t believe I thought I had it.”
“Well,” San pushed back the chair next to yours, “I always say these things are more fun with a partner.”
“Right?” You started up your mental rant on your professor, this time verbally. “Like, what is he going to do with all these? Has he got space for them? Make these a two-person thing at least.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to know that yours is,” San winks at you, picking up a bottle of glue.
“You’re going to build this with me?”
“Sure,” he shrugs happily, “it looks fun, I’m off, and I said I wanted to learn about the Netherlands, right?”
“The skull paintings are probably the coolest part.”
“Ooh,” San stares down at the images, “emo.”
“Yet also spiritual.”
“And here I thought it was all tulips and windmills over there.”
You giggled softly at that, giving a little sigh before you picked up the center dowel. “Would you mind handing me the base, then?”
“Sure. Here, I’ll hold it down, you really jam that in there and I’ll reinforce it with the glue.”
“Ugh, that’s such a good idea,” you smacked your forehead, “why did I think the foam was enough?”
“Hey,” San put his hand on your shoulder, peering into your eyes, “it’s ok. It’s just a silly craft project.”
“Y- you’re right,” you replied, forcing yourself to stare as deeply back, even if you did blush.
“Well, I mean, your work isn’t silly, just the concept of-”
“You’re good. I know what you mean.”
~
An hour later, it was finished. The tower sat on the end of your table, keeping watch over you and San, you had his hands folded on the table as you told him your favorite embarrassing story of your eccentric great-grandfather.
“The mustard got in her glasses and everything!”
San doubled over, one hand slapping the table and the other falling onto your shoulder. You smiled in satisfaction, pausing to take a proud sip of your drink.
“And she stayed for the game?”
“Are you kidding? The office was paying for the tickets!”
“Oh, that’s great!” He laughed.
“I know.”
“We should go to a game,” San said, his eyes suddenly falling to the table as he played with his hands, “you know, at the campus stadium. Our baseball team has a game on friday. U-unless you're not comfortable with that, then my friend Jongho can come with us and-"
Your, surely baggy by now, eyes widened slightly, a smile rising back to your lips through your intent listening. "Not comfortable? Like, go as in a date?"
"We don't have to, though, we can totally just get a group to-"
"Tell Jongho I said he can stay home," you cut him off with a grin, joking to play off the backflips your ribcage was doing, especially when San smiled at you like that, I mean come on it's like you told him you were handing him his dreams and sheesh those dimples, "I mean, I don't even know him."
"Are you sure? Because he's one of my roommates, and he was building a Japan tower on our kitchen counter this morning."
"Oh. Well in that case, just tell him you found a girl who likes cute baristas."
This time, it was San's turn to blush, though he covered it by reaching for your hands, seemingly not caring about the glue splotches sullying your skin. "I- I will."
~
If you weren't already sure you made the right choice by San helping you secure an A on your project or the way he looked at you, you knew you did when he insisted on buying you a school mascot plushie and including it in your fieldside selfie together and when he practically tackled you into his arms upon hearing you confess that you only went to the café to see him.
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badlandspaces · 10 days ago
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✶ HELL FIRE (OTTO HIGHTOWER!ENG)
Description: The war is over, and the exiled prince has returned to King's Landing accompanied by a rumour that had been circulating all these years: a nameless woman who risked everything to fight on behalf of her father. Uncertainty leads the Lord Hand to take a deeper interest in her, sparking a fire that is impossible to quench (1.5k).
Warnings: Seduction, nudity, female finger stimulation and removal of fluids by mouth (just a sexual fantasy). Feeling of guilt and then acceptance.
Autor's note: Hello there! I like the controversy surrounding this character and I wanted to venture into creating something. This may be the only time I bring a writing about a character outside of Star Wars, time will tell. English is not my first language, my apologies if there are any mistakes in the translation. Xo!
Additional note: As an extra clarification, this writing is an excerpt from a fanfiction in spanish that I am writing on my Wattpad account, so it won't have a translation because it will soon be available in its original language. «Vrai» is the name of my oc created for this story.
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Vrai's arrival had caused a stir in the kingdom after years of speculation about who she was or where she came from, but after the answer to all those questions became present with her arriving in the company of Prince Daemon, the intrigues ceased and gave way to words and looks of respect.
Respect.
Or perhaps an interest that went beyond all that was right.
Sitting with a half-finished cup in his hand, the fire in front of him burned, the flame moving and growing as time passed. It was strange, but among all that fire he was able to see each of the features that made up that strong beauty, or her blonde hair being moved by the wind of King's Landing. Imagining her caused emotions that could be categorized as impure, but it wasn't his fault he felt that way, was it?
He drank the rest of the wine left in his glass and set it down on the table to the side. He relaxed in his place and closed his eyes, giving his mind permission to wander into compromising scenarios that had to do with Vrai. It started with a restlessness, a doubt that as it progressed came to the same point: how submissive could she be? He made his attempt to remember her face, her mesmerizing green eyes and appetizing lips that he had not missed since his arrival. Instantly he remembered that pronounced scar on her face, one that ran from her eyebrow and past her eye to her cheekbone. Little by little he remembered those small details, all to complete that image in his mind and to be able to move on to the next…
He saw her in that room, dressed in a simple nightgown that left the rest to the imagination. They were both alone, with the fire as the only companion and witness of what was about to happen. Vrai began to approach very slowly, and without ceasing to make eye contact, she knelt down in front of him once she was close to him.
"Do you want me?" She said in a whisper, exuding sensuality and something more.
He looked her up and down, taking his time on every part of her. Instantly, the blonde rose again and began to slide the garment over her shoulder, exposing her collarbone so that she could pull her arm out of the sleeve. She repeated the action on the other shoulder, in the end, the only thing holding the fabric was her delicate hands. The man clung tighter to his seat, digging his fingers into the wood of the armrest, feeling expectant of the female figure in front of him. Without further ado, the woman let go of the garment and it fell to the floor, an act that made him sigh and stir from his seat as he felt the pleasure he felt at the sight of her. Her white skin, neat and at first sight smooth, became a temptation thanks to the contrast of the bright red of the fire. The detail made him not know where on her body to focus because every angle was perfect, all he wanted was to keep her imprisoned beneath him and make her scream his name every time he entered her.
Vrai inserted a second finger, the index finger, without suppressing any moan provoked by the anxiety she felt to cum and for him to see how she was overflowing. Thus came the most awaited moment and she reached the climax, having as proof the fluids that stained her fingers once she pulled them out. They were both breathing heavily, she from the effort of reaching orgasm and he from the impatience he felt to touch her to make her spill again.
The woman did not move from her place and stood in front of him to his delight. Her left hand brushed her cheek and began to move down her neck, collarbones and finally one of her breasts. She began to massage slowly, pinching the nipple from time to time accompanied by slight moans that told how satisfying such an action was. Then she continued down her belly and the gliding across her skin became slower, making a conflict between the man and her crotch.
As she neared her final destination, Vrai again fixed her eyes on him so as not to miss his reaction, and without letting time pass, she plunged her middle finger inside and began to move it to pleasure herself. Visually it was a spectacle, an overflow of intense sensations that heralded an early cum as the seconds ticked by and the pace increased. Her mouth kept saying how much he loved the sensation. Her brow furrowed. Her head jerked back as the built up ecstasy became intense. Her blonde hair began to mess up as her free hand passed through it, then she moved it back to her other breast and repeated the action from earlier.
Her legs shook and made her collapse to the ground, luckily, her knees cushioned her fall. The blonde lifted her head and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Her right hand touched the fabric of his clothes, while the two fingers that were previously inside her were directed to the man's mouth, making their way until he could suck and taste her fluids without taking her eyes off him. She began to sway her hips shamelessly, rubbing herself to prepare the ground for what was to come. Vrai pulled out both fingers and directed them to her mouth as well, playing with her patience.
Vai's hands touched the steel of the two collars, then slide down the sack until he came across the insignia on his right side: a protruding hand wielding some kind of blade.
"The second most powerful man in the kingdom is eager to have me." She whispered again. Her hands surrounded his neck and her face came closer to his to get closer to his lips, feeling the clash of their breaths and that of her breasts against his torso. "I am yours."
The distance was becoming clearer, both lips were about to meet and a fire was beginning to be felt between them.
A hell fire.
But just before he could kiss her, a knock on the door sounded, bringing the poor, agitated man out of his trance. Overwhelmed by confusion, he visualized every corner of the place in search of the blonde, but it had only been a fantasy that had left him with tremendous pain in his crotch. He cursed under his breath. Before letting in whoever was outside, he preferred to get up and walk towards the door, ignoring that annoyance; behind the wood stood a royal guard, waiting for it to be opened to give his message.
"Tell me."
"Lord Hand, King Viserys requests your presence in the Council Chamber."
Otto Hightower only nodded, eager to close the door and return to his leisure. The guard retreated, leaving the Hand alone, once again granting his mind the freedom to recreate more fantasies. Those ramblings had felt real, for a second he believed that Vrai was there, waiting to be taken by him in every possible way.
And out of nowhere, guilt invaded him.
He couldn't believe what he had done, he had committed a sin against the Seven by not being able to curb his base passions and he needed forgiveness immediately. He paced around the room trying to calm the flame, but it grew more and more when he saw the fire in the fireplace and it reminded him of Vrai.
It was not fair, how could he, a righteous man, be tempted in such a way? Then he began to curse her, blaming her for having awakened such impure desires in a devout follower of the Faith.
But after a while, it all began to make more sense…
If Vrai had come to King's Landing it was for one reason only, and that was him. The seven deities would not make him fall, on the contrary, they were only showing him what they had prepared for him, and it was logical, because his service to the Crown had to be compensated in one way or another.
The Seven had given Vrai of the Vineyards to him to be his, and Otto would do whatever it took to fulfill that mandate. He swore that he would have her, that he would kill anyone who interfered in his affairs or even burn the entire kingdom in order to make her his, and if not, he would burn her too.
Because if she was not going to belong to him, then she would belong to no one.
Without further ado, he arranged his clothes to go see the King, although first he would have to release some tension and pain that had been bothering him for a while, and he would do so thinking of only one thing: Vrai, his future wife.
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softplushiee · 5 months ago
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Birthday Boy -Derek Suarez x Larisa Last
Day 7: Derek’s Day
@derek-week-event
Words: 736
A/N: oopsie this is late !! i originally only planned to skip day 5 but i got lazyy :p anyways this is not my greatest work so read with caution ,, happy belated birthday derek
warnings: a tad bit suggestive ?? nothing happens just a kissing sesh and a tiny bit of biting and use of petnames
Summary:
It is officially Larisa’s lovely boyfriend’s, Derek Suarez, birthday! And this is the first one they’re celebrating as a couple so she wants to make this one extra special
Larisa quietly yawned as she was awoken by the sunlight peeking through the curtains. She was snuggled against her boyfriend’s back with her arms wrapped around him. Larisa sucked in all of his body heat.
“Morning, Larisa” She heard Derek, her boyfriend, say. “Good morning to you too, handsome.” Larisa purred, “Oh, and Happy Birthday.” Larisa placed small kisses upon Derek’s neck. He chuckled before turning over to face Larisa, she had to sadly let go of him in the process. Her lover cheerfully spoke, “I can already tell it’s going to be a great day already.” He wrapped his arms around Larisa’s waist, connecting their bodies once again.
They had planned a small get-together with their friends and family today. Also, this is the first birthday they’re celebrating together as an official couple, so that made the day especially special. Larisa isn’t so eager to get out of bed just yet. Derek attempted to pull away from her and get out of bed to start the day but she was quick to pull him back in. Derek made a startled noise and Larisa gave him a quick kiss as an apology.
“Sorry, birthday boy,” Larisa changed their position to make it where she was on top of him, “but, I want to give you an early birthday present.” She saw bright Derek’s green eyes look up at her as she loomed over him, more so than usual. He gave Larisa a coy smile, “I don’t mind.”
“Good.” Larisa leaned down so that she could press a kiss on his lips. Then another, then another, then another. You get the point.
She soon pulled away from Derek, wondering what to do next. Larisa squinted as she eyed the hem of Derek’s pajama shirt then she lifted his shirt up so his abs were exposed. She licked her lips before diving in and planted small kisses along his abs, starting from the bottom up. It’s a shame Larisa isn’t wearing lipstick, she’s sure that Derek would look immaculate covered in lipstick marks. Maybe later.
Larisa puckered her lips absentmindedly, “Babes, do you mind taking your shirt off for me?” Derek grinned, “Of course not, Larisa.” She gave Derek some space as he sat up, he pulled the fabric over his head and tossed his shirt onto the floor. Larisa admired the view. She’s tempted to follow suit and take off her shirt as well but, today is Derek’s day. Larisa wants to solely focus on him (for now, atleast).
She pushed Derek back down on the bed, the bed slightly creaking beneath them, and targeted his neck with kisses .Larisa allowed her hands to roam freely over Derek’s body. A devious idea came to Larisa’s head. “Ah!” She heard Derek yelp as she lovingly bit into the side of his neck. Larisa didn’t bite hard enough to leave a mark, of course. She placed one final kiss on his neck before retreating.
She returned to Derek’s face to kiss his lips again, softly raking her hand through his short hair. The kiss lasted longer than it was supposed to, but Larisa couldn’t help it. The way Derek squeezed her thigh, the rise and fall of his bare chest, the way he looks so delectable underneath Larisa; all of that ignited a fire within her.
Finally, their lips parted. Derek looked up at Larisa with lidded eyes. His green eyes locked with her beige owns, “You’re so good at this.” He whispered. Larisa resisted the urge to attack his lips, not wanting to get ahead of herself. They still had an outing planned afterall. She reluctantly pulled herself away from her darling boyfriend and Derek watched her with a curious stare. “I can’t keep you all to myself today, babes.” Larisa lifts the cover off of herself, “We need to get ready to tackle the day.”
“Right!” Derek pushed himself out of bed and retrieved his lost shirt off of the floor.
Larisa smiled as she watched him, a warm rush of affection swelling within her. He looked adorable, the way he slipped back into his shirt, tugging it over his head and running a hand through his messy hair. She couldn’t help but think how lucky she was to have him.
Larisa pulled herself out of bed and stretched before heading to the bathroom to get ready, determined to make Derek enjoy his birthday to the fullest.
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bereft-of-frogs · 3 months ago
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A collection of slightly manic craft projects I’ve completed since the you-know-what:
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1) took what was supposed to be a cat bed insert for the IKEA Kallax that my cat always hated, never used even though I tried all the treats, catnip, everything he's just like nope I would prefer to just sleep on your pillows or in the sink, used a square of fabric I already had cut and a hot glue gun to cover the hole and turn it into a functional bin. I'm using it to store my currently being worked on knitting WIPS because they always ended up on the floor beside the couch and that wasn't cute
2) my mom gave me this tin with all this tea in it, tin super functional for continuing to store teabags (I know some of you might be like 'but you hate tea' I've come around but specifically on green tea, any sort of black tea is still a hard pass) but it had the branding printed right onto the metal, it wasn't a sticker I could remove. But you know what WAS a sticker I could remove? The vinyl sticker from a craft beer can (Battery Steele Brewing's Saint Stephen) that I hung onto for more than a year because the can was too pretty to let go of. Poured hot water into it and let it sit for 15 minutes, sticker came off with most of the adhesive so I didn't even have to do anything else but cut it to size, line it up, and stick it over the ugly brand part of the tin. I actually did clean it up a bit after taking this picture but that involved the x-acto knife and I thought 1AM wasn't the greatest time to be busting out the knives.
also I had already reorganized all of my kitchen cabinets by this point I was tired
3) Next day I finally put up this window film that I also got from my mom, because she bought it to put on her bathroom windows when she still had an apartment in the city but didn't end up liking the pattern. My bedroom faces a pretty busy walkway on one side and I don't terribly mind it but it's nice that people can't see in on that side (other side is covered by trees from the garden next door) and also it makes rainbows with the streetlights.
Disregard the dying spider plant in the shot I don't know why I struggle to keep it alive but I'm in the process of propagating some of its babies so maybe they'll do better.
4) Yesterday on a whim I decided to once again cannibalize a notebook I despise. Well, love the cover. HATE the 160 GSM paper. It's awful. The BuJo influencers are lying to you. Before I accepted how awful it is to actually write on I bought one from Notebook Therapy I already did this to and one from Archer & Olive. The Archer & Olive one doesn't quite fit as well as the NT one but it does provide a nice hardcover surface to use paperback notebooks in. (Paperback notebook inside is Denik, desk mat is from Simka Sol.) If anyone has any ideas what to do with the extra space caused by putting an A5 notebook in an 8x8 lmk, I'm thinking of making a pocket but idk what I'd put in the pocket. I have a functional sewing machine now I can really do anything. (Had to take off the foot and the plate and clean out all the tangled thread and lint that had somehow gotten stuck.)
5) I also fixed my sewing machine (see above) and made a pillowcase with the leftover fabric. Because while I did listen when the person at the store cutting the fabric told me how wide it was, on a much more real level I didn't listen. I think this is maybe supposed to be backing fabric for a quilt. So yeah when I got home and unfolded it I was like um whoa. Had enough leftover for an entire body pillow sized pillowcase.
So anyway, that's what I've been up to. all of these projects involved approximately 30 seconds of thought that's it, I am excited and scared to see what I come up with next. I'm really hoping it's writing because I'd like to finish the first draft of this project by the end of the year.
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fangbangerghoul · 1 year ago
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Snippet Sunday
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Thanks @eridanidreams I appreciate your tag! If you see this you are tagged!
I have some words I can share but I have been writing a lot of random stuff lately.
I finally have an organized idea in my head for Fleeting Pleasures but I am allowing myself some time before I finish the story. So soon!
(Plus I have been enjoying focusing on personal stories I do not have to publish lol)
MDNI, 18 +
            The lights that strobed around her were different variations of blue, purple, pink and green. They flashed with the rhythm that the DJ had set up for the club that night and the patrons danced around in the middle of the large dance floor. Some in groups, some in pairs, some alone feeling their own sweaty skin and the beats that guided the way their body moved. Ghoul sat at the bar sipping on her third fruity drink for the night. It was hardly any liquor in them but the flavors were fun enough to keep her buying them. She was still waiting for her companion to come back from the bathroom so they could finish this impromptu meeting with the Neon Rangers.
            “Would you like another?” The perky bartender asked as she wiped down the counter in front of Ghoul. Ghoul let her eyes trace the waitress’s body freely as the waitress stretched herself over the counter to reach things. Her tight black dress displayed her breasts so well, making it look like they were about to spill out and the fabric clung to her curves tightly while allowing the bottom of her round ass to peek out occasionally. Ghoul knew she probably dressed that way either because the Astral Lounge had demanded it of her or because she knew it would allow for more tips but either way she appreciated the effort the bartender put into it.
            “Only, if you bring it back to me this time.” Ghoul was trying to be smooth with her, maybe it was the drinks catching up or the smell of pheromones and aurora in the club. All she knew was she wanted a glass of whatever this woman was poured of. The waitress gave her the usual smile and as she reached to grab Ghoul’s empty glass, Ghoul softly reached out and stopped her hand. She had a stick of 200 credits in the palm that she handed the waitress.
            “My friend has appeared to have gotten lost and I wouldn’t mind some extra company tonight. I promise I don’t bite.” A weary expression appeared on the waitress’ face at first but when she saw the amount of the credits that weariness seemed to be persuaded away. The woman’s demeanor changed and she started to pick up what Ghoul was putting down.
            “I don’t know how my boss would feel about ignoring my duties tonight but I might be able to get out of it.” The woman then lightly traced her finger on Ghoul’s hand before spinning away to go get her another and clear her schedule for the night. Ghoul watched her leave and as if the waitress knew she slowly rocked her hips side to side as she walked away, possibly earning more credits out of Ghoul’s pocket that night.
            The music rocked the bar and it seemed like tonight was going to be a bit more freelance than anticipated. Ghoul could only assume Sam was outside of the club still trying to get away from the scene and a part of her respected it even if she had every intention of participating in it. The waitress finally came back with her drink but this time instead of placing it on the counter and walking away she leaned her back side onto Ghoul and made herself comfortable. Ghoul wasted no time to gently place her hands on the woman’s hips and as she brought her lips to her ears, she made sure to release a soft warm breath that would run down her neck.
            “Welcome back. I am already feeling myself becoming less-.” Ghoul’s hands greedily ran up the sides of her curves and back down to her lovely thighs. “Lonely. Do I get a name for tonight or should I make one up?” She watched as the now off duty waitress responded to the touch of her hands.
            “Rosalia.” She responded to Ghoul as she turned her head to look back at her. The two of them were extremely close now and Ghoul was ready to let their bodies connect more.
            “Well, Rosalia, let’s go dance.” Ghoul hopped off of her bar stool in a way that wouldn’t have pushed Rosalia too much and lifted her hand to twirl her. One of the few ways to enchant a woman, Ghoul had learned, was to bring them an experience that was unique to who she was, or pretended to be in that moment. Tonight, Rosalia was going to receive charm but also greedy passion and from what Ghoul could tell as she watched her work around the bar tonight the woman craved to be longed for. She led Rosalia towards the dance floor where the crowd was the thickest. The bodies around them forced them to be as close to possible to one another but that was no issue for Ghoul. She let Rosalia take the lead at first to become accustomed to her body grinding against hers before she took over with her hands and soon her mouth. The dips Rosalia would do against Ghoul were always rewarded with a slight smack on the ass or a nip on her ear. She didn’t have to say a word but direct the beautiful girl’s hands where she wanted them to be. The dancing felt everlasting but, in a way, where time stopped still. Ghoul’s own neediness was starting to show while she groped Rosalina’s breasts as if her hands wanted to consume them and the way her hips bucked in sync with her dance partners. The flame of lust was boiling in her veins and a part of her was willing to take her right on the dance floor in front of all the other patrons but she knew Rosalia would object unfortunately. So she stuck with teasing, squeezes on the thighs, hands sneaking up the sides of her dress and cupping her ass, bite marks when Rosalia’s back fell into her.              “Are you ready to find a room yet or do we need more time?” Ghoul whispered in a sultry tone while her hands found themselves up the side’s of Rosalia’s dress.
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AN EVENING AT THE LAKE
Whitney Alysse Young
I walk in dim moonlight and gaze into the shallow glistening water of my favorite lake, admiring my reflection through its shimmering ripples. My shoulder length auburn hair flutters as a gentle breeze lightly wisps through it. My petite frame carries me  silently and gracefully. I have practiced my stride for countless hours during my transition, and my hips sway imperceptibly underneath my fashionable print sundress. I look for a perfect spot and settle for a patch of lush green grass beside the shore. I have always relished the soft  spongy texture of lush grass and it squishes between my newly manicured feet with fresh French tips adorning my toes. I shrug off my overnight bag from my  feminine alabaster shoulders.
My overnight bag, a purse of sorts was given to me by my Mom. She made it by hand - khaki suede leather with dainty tassels, dotted with various brightly colored sequins that now reflect the dim moonlight. I fondly remember the day she gave it to me. She gave it to me soon after I came out, a token that symbolized both sadness over the loss of her son, and joy that she had gained a daughter. I love my bag's stylish look and appreciate the painstaking hours it took for her to make; most of all I cherish the symbolism of acceptance by my mother as her daughter - the fact that she viewed me as Whitney and that my male self was all but a distant memory. As I reminisce I feel a torrent of emotions, and tears well in my eyes. She was so happy that day. WE were so happy, and the warm embrace we shared provided me with a sense of validation that I was female and always have been.
My shoulders that held my bag, purse...whatever you want to call it...were once attached to muscular arms that have since evolved into their now slender form, replaced with a thin layer of fat underneath my skin like most other women possess. The thin extra layer has now enveloped my entire body, even hiding my once visible abdomen after years of feminizing hormone therapy. My face, once chiseled and angular has become softer, more rounded and feminine.
I kneel down and retrieve a beautiful lioness print fleece throw blanket from my bag. She has piercing eyes that always seem to beckon me. I gently spread my throw on the ground. I am  Whitney now both on the inside and the outside. It was one year ago today that I had gender affirming surgery. So for all intents and purposes today is my birthday! Surgery is not a cure all. I have the same likes and dislikes, the same idiosyncrasies, but it has helped me cope with my everyday battles with the cold, cruel world - battles that I was unable to face before.
I smile and lie down on my throw gazing at twinkling stars and dim moonlight. I am finally happy that my mind is now in perfect alignment with my body. I look about furtively and ensure that nobody is watching before I remove my sundress, leaving me wearing only my pale shrimp colored bra and matching silk panties. I feel vulnerable as most women would even though I am sure I'm alone. We have always been told that we are the weaker sex. "The 'weaker' sex", I mutter. "it's such an archaic term as if women are not supposed to be strong". Our vulnerability is not a sign of weakness as much as it is a keen sense of awareness of things both seen and unseen - women's intuition if you will. I view my vulnerability as a strength, not a weakness.
I gaze lovingly at my bra and my breasts through the sheer lace fabric. I adore what hormone replacement therapy has done with my body. My breasts are not overly large. I never opted for implants because I never really felt they were necessary for my smaller frame. Besides, I like them! They are…well, they are perky! I feel a warm yearning deep within my tummy like a tiny match, and I watch with fascination as my nipples react. They become erect before my very eyes and protrude underneath my bra's sheer fabric, a product of the cool breeze intermingled with my growing feeling of desire. 
I stare at my feminine body, a genuinely female form that finally matches my mind, my soul, my very feminine essence. I watch myself breathe, my tummy rising and falling  methodically and my belly button piercing rises and falls in unison. My piercing has a surgical steel base with a cute little dragonfly that dangles at the end, one of many that I now own. I had my belly button pierced the day after the stitching was removed from my newly formed vagina last year - a symbol of rebirth like a Phoenix rising from the ashes.
The intensity of the little match inside grows within me. I stare at my flat front and feel just a trace of familiar wetness deep within my core. I feel blessed. Most transgender girls are unable to experience such a sensation, but when my mood is just right, I feel its erotic warmth, not as much as most women, but still plainly evident. I gently place my hand on my new vagina still awestruck that I have one now. The thin fabric of my panties is the only barrier that separates my hand from my vagina and I begin to caress it softly. My thighs part slightly so I can gain better access. It is much more natural for me to touch myself now, and I do not  feel as clumsy as I once did right after my surgery.
My other hand roams freely about my body with soft, gentle caresses until it reaches one of my breasts, which I lovingly cup in my palm. I deftly remove my bra and slip off my panties. I am taking a huge risk now, but it enhances my desire. I gently graze my palms over my sensitive nipples, lightly pinching them from time to time. The sensation elicits a jolt of sexual pleasure along a direct conduit to my vagina.
I stare at my new vagina in awe. I whisper incredulously, "I have a pussy now!" It's still pretty hard to fathom. I gingerly touch my clitoris and a jolt of electricity courses through my body. Last year I would have been grasping my penis, but thankfully it no longer exists. Its only remnant is my now throbbing little button.  My pleasure is much more fulfilling now, more passionate, more passive, and definitely more feminine! I am now consumed by an intense fire that burns brightly within me, but I am in no hurry to release like I was when I had the body of a male. I relax and just let go. I have all night.
I continue to lightly massage my throbbing little button and a tiny but audible gasp escapes from my full, glossy lips. My fleshly desire begins to grow exponentially when I gently plunge my finger into my quim's folds causing my back to arch instinctively. I allow my finger to remain inside me for a moment savoring its fullness. I slowly withdraw my finger and am met with a barren empty feeling that I ignore - for now. I tentatively touch my finger to my tongue and I taste my pussy juices. The familiar heady and slightly pungent, but strangely sweet taste of my sex overloads my already heightened sensory perception.
I slowly plunge my finger inside me once again and withdraw it until it is nearly out and plunge it back in. In-out-in-out...over and over. God, it feels so...so...nice, so...so - oh it is impossible to describe the pleasure I feel with mere words! I mew softly and caress my sensitive little button with my thumb, continuing to finger my vagina with one hand; I softly caress my nipples with the other. My movements become a little more methodical, more feverish now and I spread my legs wide open to full missionary position a passive position of submission in of itself. I bend my knees as if I am in imaginary stirrups at my gynecologist's office, only now I am examining myself.
I shudder and thrust my hips to meet the onslaught of me pleasuring myself. I moan uncontrollably as the delicious pressure of my impending orgasm approaches like a freight train hurtling down the tracks. My body can take no more and I am pushed over the brink. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me like the ripples in the lake that gently lap the shore. As my orgasm fades into the night, I sit up. My legs are still quivering and they feel like rubber, preventing me from standing to get dressed again. I am content to just sit for a moment under dim moonlight and twinkling stars in my little patch of lush grass beside my favorite lake. I am a woman who is completely in touch with my feminine energy. I am a female in mind, body, and soul...[to be continued?]
(This is my first attempt to write transgender erotic fiction, any genre of fiction for that matter. Constructive criticism and suggestions on how I can improve my writing skills are always welcome. In fact they are encouraged, but those who offer derisive or hate-filled criticism will be blocked.)
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nancypullen · 2 years ago
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It's Tuesday and I'm Tired
It's 8:22pm and I swear I'm fighting the urge to go to bed. I've done a lot today - cranked out earrings, mopped the floors, two loads of laundry, weeded and watered, stained the wood that Mickey will use to make earring displays for me, and so on. I made good use of my hours, but I'm whipped. I didn't use to get tired from busy days. Is it age or have I allowed myself to get lazy? Either way, it's not fun. BUT...tomorrow will be fun. We've got several errands to run in Easton, and I'll be in STORES.
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Granted, one of the stores is Lowe's, so that doesn't really count, but I'll also be in Michael's and maybe even Target or Kohl's. It's like a vacation! Do I sound excited? Is that sad? Know what's not sad? I've made tons of progress with earring inventory! The Halloween batch is coming right along. I have my sister's approval on these polka dot sets. I ask her opinion when I'm not sure, and she gave these the green light.
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And those ghosts have been glittered and glazed.
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Speaking of my wonderful, kind, generous, and thoughtful sister...look what she sent to me!
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Stacks and stacks of beautiful paper! I feel like I won the lottery. I'l explain. That scrapbooking paper is what I use to make my cards and I can't find it around here. The JoAnn's in Easton only sells fabric and limited craft supplies. Michael's in Easton has a sparse supply of paper that never changes and it's mostly baby shower and wedding stuff. They still have Valentine and Easter paper out from last spring. I could drive an hour to Hobby Lobby in Dover but I don't like Hobby Lobby, and if their website is correct there's not much paper in stock anyway. So I've had to order online and pay extra per sheet pus shipping. Not good. My sister popped into the JoAnn store nearest to her and scooped up all of this fabulous paper at ten sheets for $3. I have ten sheets of each pattern and I can make 4 cards from each sheet. SCORE!! Even better, she included the blue plastic storage bin! I can't tell you what a relief it is to have this in my supply cabinet. I can coast a long time on this oh-so-generous gift from my sister. I should have taken a prettier photo of this bounty, but I was so excited when I opened the box that I snapped that between happy dances. I'm thrilled to my toes! That's it from me tonight. I'm heading upstairs for a long soak and a hard sleep. I'll be taking this pretty girl with me.
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This one, too. She just refuses to pose.
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The girls and I wish you a lovely evening and the sweetest of dreams. Stay safe, stay well.
XOXO, Nancy
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ronaldanthony4 · 4 months ago
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I sat at my desk, the gentle hum of my computer filling the quiet room as I stared at the completed piece on my screen. Once again, I’d created another digital artwork, pouring countless hours and my heart into something that meant so much to me. This time, it was a fan art of Princess Bloom from one of my all-time favourite cartoons, Winx Club. A wave of satisfaction washed over me, mixed with the familiar post-creation jitters that came from the combination of excitement and slight apprehension about whether others would see what I did.
Bloom wasn’t just any character. She was the Fairy of the Dragon Flame, a being of unmatched power and a symbol of resilience, leadership, and growth. Over the years, watching Winx Club, I’d connected deeply with her journey, seeing her transformation from an insecure young girl into a fierce and determined leader. As I zoomed in to look at the finer details of my artwork, I admired the way her red-orange hair cascaded down to her waist, flowing like molten fire, a small single strand rebelliously sticking up as if to remind everyone of her fiery spirit.
Her large, cyan eyes seemed to sparkle with hope and determination, even on my screen. Those eyes had witnessed so much in the series – battles, heartbreaks, victories, and moments of deep introspection. They were eyes that carried stories, ones that I had spent countless hours watching unfold. I had chosen to capture her in an outfit that I felt symbolised her grace and confidence: her formal dance minidress. The way the fabric hugged her curves, accentuating her slender figure, only added to the aura of elegance she exuded. It was as if she was ready to take on any challenge that came her way with poise and grace.
The outfit had taken me a long while to perfect, ensuring every fold, colour, and detail was just right. The dress was made up of a turquoise one-shoulder top with a bold pink flower resting gracefully on the left side. The fabric curved around her torso, tied together with a delicate ring at her side that exposed part of her belly and navel. It gave the dress an airy, carefree look as if Bloom was dancing through life, unafraid to embrace the winds of change. The miniskirt beneath it had two layers – the top one dark green and the bottom a soft turquoise, adding dimension and movement to the outfit. I spent extra time highlighting the way the fabric would catch the light, imagining how it would sway as she spun and twirled in Alfea’s grand ballroom.
Her sandals, high and elegant, were a turquoise shade that matched the dress perfectly. They had delicate straps and little bows that hinted at Bloom's playful side, even when she was dressed formally. As I looked at the completed piece, I could almost picture her standing on the glistening marble floors of Alfea College, where she had spent so much of her formative years learning to hone her magic and grow into the incredible fairy she became. The dress was a symbol of her growth and transformation, a reminder of the powerful fairy she had become. It was a testament to her strength, beauty, and resilience in the face of adversity.
Thinking back to the series, I recalled Bloom’s early days. She had started as an ordinary girl from Gardenia, unaware of her true origins. I had always admired the way the show handled her journey – how she stumbled and fell, how she questioned herself, but always picked herself up. Bloom’s journey resonated with me, and I suspect with many others because it wasn’t perfect. She had her flaws – impatience, stubbornness, and an impulsive nature that often landed her in sticky situations. I thought of the time when she mistakenly attacked Diaspro, believing her to be one of the Trix in disguise. The embarrassment and regret she felt afterwards were palpable, showing that even powerful fairies like Bloom could be wrong.
But her greatest strength was also her greatest challenge: the Dragon Flame. This power made her the most formidable fairy in the Magic Dimension but also painted a target on her back. Enemies like the Trix, Darkar, Valtor, and the Ancestral Witches were relentless, driven by their thirst for her power. I admired how, despite this, Bloom refused to let fear dictate her actions. She fought not just for herself but for those she loved – her friends, her family, her kingdom.
I tilted my head, looking at the completed image, imagining Bloom’s story in vivid detail. Her character arc was one of perseverance. Yes, she had been impulsive at times, letting her emotions get the best of her. But as the series progressed, she learned from her mistakes. I reflected on how she started desperately seeking answers about her past, a search that sometimes made her appear selfish or overly focused on her own needs. Yet, as she discovered more about herself and her powers, she matured.
In my artwork, I tried to capture this duality – the fierce warrior and the caring friend. The Bloom who was unafraid to stand up to the darkest of evils and the Bloom who laughed and danced with her friends during their downtime at Alfea. I thought about the later seasons of Winx Club, especially World of Winx, where Bloom had grown into a wise, strategic leader. She was still kind-hearted, but there was a new depth to her – a seriousness that came with the responsibilities she had taken on.
Creating art like this always brought me into a reflective state. I wasn’t just drawing Bloom; I was recounting her journey, revisiting moments that had made me smile or brought tears to my eyes. I thought of the friends who stood by her side – Stella, Flora, Musa, Tecna, and Aisha. Each one brought something unique to their dynamic, and Bloom, as their leader, always made sure they were united. She wasn’t perfect, and she didn’t pretend to be. But she cared deeply, fought fiercely, and loved with her whole heart.
The soft glow of the screen reflected in my own eyes as I leaned back, satisfied with my work. The background I’d chosen was soft and ethereal, a wash of purples and blues with tiny sparkles, like the magical skies of Magix. It framed Bloom perfectly, making her appear as though she was about to step out of the digital world and into reality. As I hit save on the final edits, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in capturing Bloom's essence so perfectly. The image was a tribute to her strength, vulnerability, and unwavering dedication to her friends.
I thought about her moments of weakness – the times she doubted herself or felt lost. When she discovered that her real parents, King Oritel and Queen Marion of Domino, were alive, it had been an emotional turning point. I recalled the tears she shed, the disbelief that washed over her, and the joy that came with finally being able to fill the void she had felt for so long. It was stories like these that made Bloom so much more than just a character; she was a symbol of hope and perseverance.
With a final glance at the artwork, I smiled. To me, Bloom was more than the central protagonist of Winx Club; she was a reminder that strength isn’t just about power. It’s about heart, resilience, and learning from the past. Bloom had shown me that it’s okay to be unsure, to make mistakes, and to fall – as long as you get back up and keep moving forward. Creating this piece was my tribute to her journey and all the lessons she had imparted.
As I saved the final file, a sense of completion settled over me. Art had always been a way for me to express my love for the stories and characters that shaped my imagination. Bloom was a part of that tapestry, a beacon in my creative world. With her bright smile and fierce spirit captured on my screen, I knew I had done her justice. The process of creating this piece reminded me of the resilience and strength that Bloom embodies, inspiring me to face my challenges with determination. As I reflected on the finished artwork, I felt a sense of pride in honouring her journey and the impact she has had on my creative endeavours.
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natashaismylove · 3 years ago
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Enemy part 2 |N. Romanoff + W. Maximoff
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Summary: a few years has passed and y/n has been feeling a little insecure after having her third baby and decides to surprise her wives once they come home. Wanda and Natasha then make sure that their wife knows just how beautiful she is.
Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem!reader x g!p Wanda
Warnings: smut, fluff, g!p Natasha and Wanda, unprotected sex, oral (Wanda and reader receiving), dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, threesome, fingering, breeding kink, pregnancies, slight housewife kink, praise, dirty talk, orgasm control, body insecurities, pet names (baby, detka, princess, sweetheart)
Word count: 2107
A/N: this is part 2 but it can be read on its own without reading part 1.
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I checked my hair from different angles in the mirror, making sure everything was in place where it should be. I applied an extra layer of mascara and touched up my lipstick, wiping the edges to fix it. 
I stood up and ran my hands down my body, looking at the dark green, one-piece lingerie I had put on. The deep neckline showed off my cleavage, and the colour with the lacy, sheer fabric matched my skin tone nicely. I took a deep breath and nodded before giving myself a smile to boost my confidence. I heard the front door open and quickly made my way to the bed.
I sat down against the headboard before becoming unsure of my position. I moved to the middle of the bed and sat on my knees, but shook my head as it wasn’t quite right. I ended up sitting on my butt, one of my knees bent upwards as I leaned back on my hands behind me.
I watched the door nervously as I heard Natasha and Wanda’s footsteps come closer to our bedroom and I breathed in through my nose to calm myself.
“Y/n? Are you here, princess?” I heard Wanda ask loudly.
“Bedroom!” I yelled back.
“Where’s the kids?”
I watched as the door opened and saw my wives freeze once they saw me. Natasha looked me up and down while Wanda stared at me with a smirk. They stepped into the room, Nat taking off her jacket and putting it on the chair next to the door.
“The kids are with Steve, I asked him to babysit.” I answered the previous question.
Natasha stepped in front of me, lifting my chin up to look at her. “What’s all this, detka?”
Wanda got in the bed, sitting with her legs tucked under her before running her fingers up my side. I took a breath before answering my wife. “I wanted to do something nice for you two. We haven’t had sex in a while and I’ve really missed it.”
I bit my lip nervously before continuing. “I’ve been worried that you two aren’t attracted to me anymore… I mean, my body doesn’t look as nice as before and you haven’t been touching me like you used to.”
Natasha sighed before getting on the bed. She placed her hand on my stomach and smiled at me. “You are so beautiful, princess. God, if I’m being honest I would say you almost look better than you did before. You have always been gorgeous, but it’s a little extra now that your body shows that you’ve carried our three amazing kids.”
Wanda nodded in agreement as she laced her fingers with Natasha‘s, keeping their hands together on my stomach. “Three pregnancies will of course make some changes to your body, but as Natasha said, you are absolutely gorgeous. And yes, we’ve been keeping some distance sexually, you’re right about that. We just didn’t want to pressure you into anything, you only gave birth around four months ago so we wanted to give you a little break because we love you.”
I frowned a little. “I don’t need a break, I wanna have sex.”
Natasha gave a small chuckle. “Trust me, baby. It has not been easy for us. It’s taken a level of restraint and self control that we barely have. The amount of times we’ve wanted to bend you over and fuck you dumb or be buried between your legs has been too many to count.”
I smiled a little at her words. Wanda cupped my cheek and pulled me into a soft kiss before whispering against my lips. “You want us to fuck you, princess? Want us to show you just how beautiful you are and how much we love you?”
I nodded before kissing her again, making sure to deepen it immediately. She moaned into the kiss before putting her hand on my back, moving me down to lie on the bed. She didn’t pull away for a moment as she gripped my hair, keeping her other hand on my waist. The kiss was messy and desperate, being deprived of sex for so long fuelling the need for touch.
She moved down to kiss my neck so Natasha was quick to clash our lips together, moving her tongue against mine immediately. I moaned as Wanda sucked onto my sweet spot, leaving a red mark that would bruise later. Natasha pulled away and took off her shirt before unbuttoning her jeans, and once she stood in her bra and underwear she resumed the kiss. 
Wanda kissed down my chest and sucked marks all over, their possessive tendencies and need to show that they owned me still as present as ever. She continued to kiss down my cleavage and stomach as far as the neckline would let her. She looked me over, touching the fabric of my lingerie softly before she moved to lie between my legs, kissing and nibbling the insides of my thighs.
Natasha pulled away a little with a smile, tracing my facial features with her fingers. “Pretty girl.”
I returned the smile and let out a moan once Wanda moved the underwear part of my bodysuit to the side so she could get access to my pussy. Her tongue gave small kitten licks, avoiding my clit to tease me. I looked down at her, lacing my fingers into her hair as I moved my hips to try and get her where I needed her most.
Natasha pushed my hips down and kept them in place as she placed her forehead against the side of my head. “Lie still, detka.”
Wanda’s lips wrapped around my clit, finally giving me what I needed as she groaned against me. “Taste so good, baby.”
Natasha smiled while raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Yeah, she does?”
“Like heaven.” Wanda answered before resuming her licking, making me let out a surprised gasp.
Natasha held my face while kissing around my ear, biting my earlobe and slowly dragging it down with her teeth. I shivered and let my eyes flutter closed, gripping the sheets as Wanda sucked harder.
“I think she’s getting close, Wands.” Natasha said with a cocky smile.
“That fast, huh? Guess she’s been pretty deprived then.” Wanda returned the smile before suddenly pushing two fingers into me.
My breath hitched and I gripped the sheets harder. She moved her fingers, not pulling them out but instead curling them upwards. She licked my clit fast while looking up at my blissful face, my hips bucking only for Natasha to hold them down.
“Oh god~” I moaned and arched my back. “I’m cumming~”
Wanda kept sucking as my orgasm hit, feeling me clench around her fingers. I wasn’t given any time to recover from my high before Wanda pulled away and I was thrown onto my stomach as Natasha got behind me and pushed me up onto my hands and knees.
She pulled the fabric to the side before shoving her cock into me, only having pulled her underwear down a little. I gasped and my eyes widened in surprise, my pussy still pulsing from my previous orgasm.
“So tight and perfect, baby…” she said in a low tone.
Wanda moved in front of me, her clothes all gone with her cock hard in my face. She held my hair while nudging the head of her penis against my lips to open them up. She pushed into my mouth, moaning at the warmth that enveloped her.
“Fuck~” she whispered before slowly moving in and out.
Natasha kept fucking me, pushing me forward and as she thrusted into me I took more of Wanda into my mouth. They both moaned out loud while my noises came out as muffled sounds.
“So good, detka~” Natasha moaned. “Missed this so much~”
I swirled my tongue around Wanda’s cock, feeling her hit the back of my throat repeatedly. She wiped away some tears that had run down my cheeks before she gripped my hair harder, moving me up and down her penis.
“God, I love fucking your mouth.” She groaned. “You love it when I use your mouth to get myself off, don’t you?” She smirked down at me and I nodded the best I could. She patted my cheek lightly before speaking again. “Good girl.”
My pussy clenched around Natasha at her words, the praise and dirty talk making my stomach flutter. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” Natasha groaned and bit her lip. “Gonna fill this pussy up~”
“She’s not on birth control, Tasha.” Wanda breathed out.
I could hear Natasha panting as she fucked me faster. “Then I guess she’s just gonna have to get pregnant. Wanna see you get all round with our baby’s again, I fucking love it. God, plus the pregnancy boobs, the constantly being horny and needy for us, the way we get to take care of you all the time and you can’t tell us not to.” She moaned.
I could see on Wanda’s face that she was getting closer, her face scrunched up in pleasure as she listened to Natasha. “Fuck…cum in her, Tash~”
Natasha’s breath hitched as she finished inside of me, her movements coming to a complete stop. Wanda pulled out of my mouth and I gasped for air, letting out a cough before moaning as Natasha’s orgasm had triggered my own.
Wanda caressed my face gently, wiping away some more tears from under my eyes. “You did good, sweetheart.”
“You didn’t cum.” I said confusedly.
She gave a smirk. “Oh, you didn’t think we were done did you?”
My eyes widened a bit, Natasha pulling out of me before moving me so I laid on my side. She laid down behind me, pressing her chest against my back before holding my leg up. Wanda got down in front of me and took my leg from Nat and laid it on her hip. Both their cocks nudged against my hole before Natasha pushed inside first.
“Fuck, Nat~” I moaned out.
Her hand gripped my thigh hard. “What did you call me?”
I swallowed. “Daddy…”
“That’s right, baby.” She whispered into my ear.
Wanda grabbed her cock before moving it into me, my face scrunching up at the painful stretch. They stayed still for a few seconds before they began to move, both of them pulling out and pushing back in at the same pace. Natasha moved her hand up to my stomach, holding it there as Wanda circled her arms around my waist.
“You’re taking our cocks so well, princess.” Wanda praised.
“Always so good for us.” Natasha spoke into my hair.
“Fuck mommy…daddy…” I moaned quietly.
They picked up the pace, moving faster as we all knew we wouldn’t be able to last long. Natasha kept moaning into my neck, mumbling soft praises.
“Such a perfect little girl~” Wanda breathed out. “Our perfect little housewife~”
“We’re not gonna deprive you anymore, always gonna fill you with our cocks~” Natasha said before biting my neck lightly.
“I can’t last much longer~” I whined and held onto Wanda.
“Don’t hold back, princess.” She said before they quickened their movements, fucking into me desperately.
“Cum around us, baby, clench that little pussy so hard on our fucking cocks.” Natasha whispered into my ear. “Come on. Three…two…one.”
My orgasm hit me quickly, my pussy fluttering wildly as they thrusted into me. My eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned loudly while feeling my body tense up. They fucked into me a few more times before they let go and filled me up, their cum leaking out around their cocks.
They pulled out and we laid there on our backs for a few minutes, just trying to catch our breaths. Wanda rolled over onto her side and gently caressed my stomach while speaking. “I really hope you get pregnant.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
Natasha kissed my temple and held me. “One more baby would be just perfect.”
1K notes · View notes
writerpeach · 3 years ago
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Out of Bounds
Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader 3090 words ⚠ smut, mommy kink, eunbondage, subby!eunbi, public sex
Dedicated to the 👑 and leader of the subbi movement @iznsfw
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Read on AFF
Read on AO3
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“Mommy looks so pretty today.” 
It was the distraction you needed, and Eunbi never saw it coming, not when it was the last thing she expected during a kiss. With ease, her delicate wrists were bound to the tree behind her, arms held high behind her head, and secured her in place. 
“Mommy looks really, really pretty, especially like this.” Looking in her eyes, you caressed her cheek with the back of your hand and flashed a reassuring smile. Eunbi didn’t know what to think, and she wasn’t even mad—just surprised by how easily she had fallen into your trap. 
But you knew that eventually you’d incur Eunbi’s wrath, when the expression on her pretty face screamed I’ll get you for this later. That road would be crossed later on, and you’d savor this moment for as long as possible. 
With no regrets, you leaned in and kissed Eunbi once more, while she tested her restraints and her wrists tugged back hard. As expected, there was little give, and she wasn’t going anywhere. For once, Eunbi was at your will, free to do with her what you would, and you planned on taking full advantage of that. 
Eunbi shuffled her feet and tried to find leverage, struggling against her restraints in a feeble attempt to break free, to no avail. She was just wasting her energy, and while you admired her efforts, it put a smile on your face a mile wide. “What's the matter, mommy? Not used to being tied up?”
You knew you were tempting fate by taunting her, but how could you not when she was all tied up for your mercy? A little teasing didn’t hurt, at least not until Eunbi got her revenge, but for now, you’d enjoy the fire in her eyes. 
“Mommy looks so cute in that outfit, don't you? It'd be so easy to just pull those huge tits out for anyone walking by to see them, wouldn’t it?”  
“Don't you dare, baby boy—” Eunbi said, breaking her frustrated silence. It was hard to wipe the smirk off your face, finally turning the tables on her. 
“Or what? Mommy will punish me? No, I think it’s about time I had some fun. But you can't really do anything about it, can you?”
You could get used to having the upper hand. The power it brought was so intoxicating, not to mention arousing, and it was easy to see why Eunbi liked it so much. An addiction formed right away, one that you demanded more of like the first hit of a new drug, but you were the dealer. 
So with a continued smile on your face, you untied the pink and blue plaid shirt Eunbi had on, opening it enough to grant access to her full chest, and groped her voluptuous breasts through the fabric of her white undershirt underneath. 
“Mommy is all mine today.” 
Eunbi didn’t say a word, but the lustful gaze that formed in her eyes spoke for her, and it said more than any sentence she could put together.
“B-baby…” she muttered out in a low tone, before you pulled her shirt up enough to expose her beautiful clothed breasts. Not long after that, you pulled them out of her bra, freeing them out of captivity. 
“There we go. Mommy has such perfect tits. They’re just so big, so heavy, and soft. They just fit so well in my hands, don’t they? I just wanna play with them all day mommy, can I?” 
Eunbi stayed silent, and it’s not exactly like she had a say in the matter, but the approving nod she gave was the green light you needed. Warm sunlight shone down like a spotlight on Eunbi's wonderful breasts, and you were more than eager to get the party started with a few strategic kisses placed on her creamy flesh. Your lips mapped out Eunbi’s tits and made contact on bare skin in just the right place, making imaginary x’s on her most tender areas, before you flicked one of her rosy pink nipples with your fingertip.
The soft moan that escaped Eunbi’s lips was music to your ears. 
“Oh, are mommy’s nipples extra sensitive today? That'll make it even more fun to play with,” you said, as you grabbed two big handfuls of Eunbi’s soft mounds, then cupped, squeezed, and fondled them to your heart’s desire. 
Eunbi just groaned without words.
“I think mommy deserves to be the one who begs for once. You like when I pull on them like this? When I use my fingers to twist them?”
“Y-yes, baby. That feels so good.” Soft moans were not an option any longer, not when you pinched Eunbi’s stiff nipples harshly enough that she squirmed against the back of the tree. 
“Gosh, your nipples are so pretty when they get this nice and hard. But not so loud, mommy. We're still in public.” 
You were having too much fun with this, and there would be consequences in the distant future, but that didn’t matter. Not when you could make Eunbi moan so easily with just a simple tug and pull of her hardened nubs. 
Certainly, you’d love admiring Eunbi’s naked chest for eons, but goddamn if her breasts didn’t look so delicious, and you hadn’t had a meal all day. So after a few more kisses, you traced the curve of her swollen breasts, teased both nipples with your tongue, and sucked on the one closest to your mouth, sealing your lips shut around them. 
Her heavy breasts were your favorite meal, and you suckled on them like you were starving. For several moments you watched the bliss in her eyes, only pulling back when wet saliva doused her sensitive buds, and flicked them with your tongue until you removed your mouth from her chest entirely. Eunbi whined at the loss of contact and did little else, but you could see the intense desire in her pretty eyes. 
“Look at mommy so needy and whiny for the littlest touch. You'd do just about anything for me to put my lips on them again, wouldn't you? They're so swollen already from me sucking on them for just a few seconds. I wonder how they'd look if I just squeezed them like this…”
You were anything but gentle—harshly tangling up your fingertips in warm supple flesh as you kneaded Eunbi’s breasts, and you gave them a deep massage that sent inescapable moans leaving her lips. 
“B-baby, please! That feels amazing. Keep going.”
“I know it did. Mommy loves her tits being played with so much, don't you? What if I just—god they feel so perfect, what if I just slapped them just like this?” 
Right after those words left your lips, your palm struck one of her heavy mounds, and the milky flesh rippled beautifully. Focusing just on Eunbi’s left breast, you slapped it again, and again, and again, until the tender skin became a visible shade of red. Eunbi whined again, and her sounds of submission were a treat you wouldn’t forget. 
“Fuck! B-baby, oh my god! Please, do that again!” 
It really took little to make Eunbi beg for more, so the satisfying sound of flesh smacking flesh continued. Now your focus was on both of her scrumptious tits, equally slapping them both, but only stopped to pinch her nipples or grab massive handfuls of sore, tender flesh. 
“Mommy loves that, don’t you? Mommy loves it when I slap these big fucking tits like this?” 
“Y-yes! Oh fuck, please—please don't stop!” You didn’t dare, not when whimpering moans and loud gasps fueled the ceaseless slapping of Eunbi’s flawless, shapely breasts. It sent you into a primal rage of uncontained lust while you focused on the hypnotic bounce of her chest. It was a simple pattern—right then left, then left and right, until you used both hands and slapped Eunbi’s soft breasts in unison, aiming at her sensitive nipples and hitting your target in succession without missing. 
Eunbi’s beautiful chest had turned a shade of crimson, and you couldn’t say you weren’t in love with the sounds she made after each slap of her huge tits, or the way they  rippled so deliciously. 
When you had your fill, you gave both of Eunbi's sore breasts a gentle massage and pondered what to do with her next. She really was beautiful like this, all tied up and exposed for the world to see, but you really hoped someone was watching—anyone who could document how submissive Kwon Eunbi looked. 
Without a word spoken, you slipped a hand underneath Eunbi’s pretty pleated skirt and pressed two fingers through her clothed center, unsurprised by the damp fabric you met. “Mommy is so wet. Can I take these off?” you asked, still keeping up a veil of politeness. 
“Only if you plan on doing something about it.” 
Well, of course you would, because when your pretty little captured bunny was in heat, the only thing left to do was to breed her. But you took your sweet time, with your fingertips grazing over Eunbi’s luscious toned legs, treasuring every inch of pristine, silky smooth skin. 
Her labored breathing filled your ears while you moved up her body, intently watching the heave of her bare breasts that still hadn’t yet returned to their original color while you hiked her pretty skirt up just past that delicious slim waist. After you grabbed Eunbi’s heavenly wide hips, you slowly peeled the ruined fabric down her sexy legs, kissing them both equally until you stripped her panties off, inhaled her scent, and tossed them away in a nearby bush. 
“Mommy smells so good.” 
There was no intent to dive right in right away, because after all—a meal tasted the best once it had been properly marinated, and with Eunbi’s newly shaved mound in broad daylight, it was finally time for some good fucking food. When you placed a knee in between Eunbi’s creamy thighs, they parted easily like a hot knife through butter, and tedious friction started. Several gasps left Eunbi’s throat as she attempted to grind on your thigh, but you gripped her hips firmly to stop her in her tracks. 
“Baby, please!” Eunbi pleaded, and her wetness began soaking through the fabric of your pants. But you controlled the pace, and only let Eunbi ride your thigh as much as you dictated, a painful, sluggish pace that wouldn’t get her anything but a modicum of pleasure. 
“Be patient, mommy. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” you said, and couldn’t help but let out a devilish smirk at her bitter expression. 
Eunbi whimpered loudly, balling her tied-up fists behind her. “Fuck, who taught you all this?”
“You did, of course. Mommy is the best teacher.” 
Eunbi couldn’t deny that. However, as much as you wanted to continue toying with Eunbi, it grew hard to ignore the painful tightness in your pants, and you desperately needed to do something about it. You had half a mind to take a picture of Eunbi’s mostly nude body in all its glory, because who knew when—if ever—you’d get another chance to get away with something like this. Seeing her in such a vulnerable state a second time would be rarer than lightning striking twice. 
You were almost nervous when you unbuttoned your pants, fiddling with the zipper as you yanked your pants and underwear down to your ankles, and unleashed your aching erection. Eunbi couldn’t wait, licking her lips and drooled over your unsheathed length. 
“You better hurry up and put that inside me, baby boy.” 
It was funny how even tied up, Eunbi thought she had any semblance of control. “Mommy doesn’t make the rules today. Are you too hungry for my cock that you forgot that already?” you warned, and gave your cock a few relieving strokes, while you spread her legs wider. 
“But if mommy is a good girl, then maybe you’ll get stretched by this cock. Maybe after you’ve begged enough.” 
“You little shit,” she murmured under her breath. Eunbi was helpless, just a timid rabbit being hunted by a hungry snake, and you were ready to strike. Closer you approached, until you could rub your shaft against her slippery folds, collecting her sweet nectar on your swollen tip. 
“Mommy wants this cock so bad, doesn’t she?” 
“Yes, baby! Please, shove it all in me. Can’t you see how wet you made mommy?” You could hear the frustration in her voice, and it made you every bit proud. 
“Then tell me. Tell me how much mommy wants to cream on this cock.” 
The cutest pout formed on Eunbi’s angelic features and she wouldn’t deny what she craved, driven far past the point of desperation. “Please! Mommy wants to be filled up more than anything. My little pussy is aching for your big, throbbing cock. Please baby boy, mommy can’t take it anymore!” 
It felt like you would never stop smiling. While you preferred a much heavier dose of begging, it did the job. It’s not like you could hold out any longer yourself. Aiming carefully, you closely watched Eunbi's gaze, not averting it for a second. When you felt the moment was right, you popped your hips, and shoved your cock into Eunbi’s tight, inviting hot cunt. 
“Baby!” 
You exchanged shared gasps, but it was hard to form anything that resembled words when Eunbi’s slick pussy felt this tight. Like a vice grip, her walls squeezed every inch of throbbing cock that slid inside with vigorous demand that never let go. The immediate combination of Eunbi’s wetness and warmth overwhelmed your senses, and before you moved a muscle, sharp pleasure radiated through your bodies from head to toe. 
There wouldn’t be any chance for adjustment, but it wasn’t like Eunbi ever needed it. Not after the cries of pleasure she made when you started pumping into her dripping heat, and especially not when you held her steady as she hooked one of her muscular legs around your body. It was the only facade of control she had left, and you allowed it, welcomed it even. 
It felt quite powerful to fuck Eunbi like this, to use her body for pleasure, to pound into her warmth in a public park while the sun shone brightly during the middle of a beautiful summer date. 
“Mommy feels so good. You’re so wet, so fucking tight. I just want to ruin you.” 
“Then ruin me! Mommy needs that badly. Please, baby boy, ruin mommy!” 
Nothing would stop you from doing exactly that. Not anyone walking by, not anyone watching, not even if the police showed up would prevent you from pounding a tied-up Eunbi. 
You moved hair out of the way of her beautiful neck, then licked the sweat from it, sucking profusely to form a deep mark. Eunbi just moaned while she took every harsh thrust into her body, and her huge breasts bounced in a rhythm that matched your pistoning hips. With how wet she had gotten, it was easy to slide into her, and hit all the right angles, thrusting frantically without a care for anything but your own pleasure. 
You’d give anything to freeze time in that current moment, so you could capture the lust-filled expression on Eunbi’s face and the intense clap of your hips meeting hers. It was unfortunate you couldn’t last as long as you wanted to, because you couldn’t keep this pace up for much longer. 
Yet you enjoyed it while it lasted, and couldn’t keep your hands off Eunbi, roaming the sun-kissed sweaty skin of her tight, perfectly sculpted body while you endlessly drilled into her. 
Eunbi’s erotic noises of satisfaction rewarded your actions, as you savored the overwhelming clench of her cunt and loud squelches that erupted after every frantic thrust. 
“Fuck, mommy—your tight little pussy is gonna make me cum soon. Need to breed you so badly and fill you up until you’re overflowing.” 
“Do it, baby boy! Fill mommy up with everything. Please, baby, fill my womb with your seed! Mommy needs to be bred, so please, please, baby boy, breed mommy!” 
It put endless happiness on your face with how needy she was. It wasn’t often you saw Eunbi like this, volunteering to be a vessel for your pleasure, just a warm, wet hole to use and fill up. 
You wanted to remember every minute detail, every sweet moan that Eunbi made, every tight clench her pussy made around your throbbing cock, and every desperate plea for more. You wanted to etch the moment into your mind, because the slick tightness of her pussy was too damn much to handle. It was too much to take in, but you savored every thrust like it was your last, because it just might have been the one that made you explode. 
“Breed me, baby boy. Let mommy be your cum dump! Please breed me, breed me, breed me, please, breed mommy!” 
Eunbi’s constant begging made you fuck her that much harder, bottoming into her wet heat after every series of rough thrusts until it drove her insane. It was just a matter of time now, as you held her tight and squeezed two handfuls of her plump ass, letting sweet bliss dictate your actions. 
One more plunge was all it took as you looked into Eunbi’s needy eyes, buried yourself to the hilt, and emptied yourself into her warm, heavenly pussy. Loud groans accompanied every stream of hot cum that filled Eunbi, flooding her womb with your thick load, and her cunt was desperate to milk every drop out of your cock. Shortly after, Eunbi had her own intense orgasm, her pussy pulsating so harshly you swore you were about to pump another huge load into her already filled creamy cunt. 
“Thank you, baby boy,” Eunbi whispered, barely able to keep her eyes open. Gently, you removed the ties around her dainty wrists, and she collapsed in your arms, exhausted, with only enough energy left to breathe. 
“Good girl. Mommy did so well,” you purred, and caressed her hair, moving strands out of her hair before you pulled her undershirt shirt and skirt back down. “Let’s get you home, mommy.” 
“W-where did my panties go?” she asked, still out of breath, still barely conscious. 
“Who knows?”
“Th-that’s fine. I’ll just have to walk out of here with your cum dripping down my thighs.” 
You kissed her forehead sweetly, and she slumped over against your body for support. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 
1K notes · View notes
quickiesgirl · 2 years ago
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Our Future Together - Chrissy Cunningham
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Paring: Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader
Warning: 18+, Smut, Drug Use, Dom/Sub, Car Sex, Breeding Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex. <3
A/n: I picked car sex with a breeding kink and came up with this. Sorry if it's shit. It was super last-minute and rushed.
Rain poured down your car as you and your girlfriend had a little date night out by Lovers Lake, parked on a little trail shaded by tall, green trees, with the lake right across from the two of you.
Just you and Chrissy, alone with no distractions as the two of you stayed in your warm car, smoking some weed and listening to the soft raindrops. 
You took a hit of the joint, looking across the lake at the houses along it. Your arm leaned across the center console and placed a hand across her upper thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as you gazed over at her. “You know what I want us to do when we get older?” 
 She looked at you with glazed, dilated eyes and smiled softly, “mhm?” 
“I wanna get us a house, just like this on the lake, and start a little family with you.” You told her, squeezing her thigh again, daydreaming about your perfect life together. “Wouldn’t it be cool to have a few kiddos running around the house?” 
“Awe, having a couple of cutie-pies would be nice." Chrissy nodded happily in agreement, placing her hand under her chin as she admired the sight of you getting so excited about having kids.
“And you’d be such a cute mommy.” You said, rubbing the joint out in the ashtray before leaning in slowly and attaching her soft, pillowy lips to your own. 
Chrissy reached up and held the back of your neck in her small grasp as your lips moved slowly and passionately against hers, even giving her bottom lip a gentle bite every so often.
Her lips were delicate and sweet, tasting like the marijuana you two smoked earlier. Your hand cupped her cheek as you slipped past her bottom lip and felt your tongues dance together. 
Soft gasps escaped Chrissy’s mouth as she pressed her thighs together, trying her best to relieve the growing ache as her pink skirt hid the fact that her white lacy panties were becoming saturated with arousal, soaking onto your fabric seats. 
You felt her thigh flexing in your grip, drawing your attention to her long, pale leg and thighs that were innocently rubbing together. 
You pushed her skirt up and dragged your fingers along her slit, feeling the warmth radiating from her core and arousal drenching through the soft material. You separated from her feverish lips and watched her turn bright red from your touch as she made a shuddered sigh. 
“You know how much I fantasized about having a cock so I can fill your entire cunt full of my cum? Impregnating you and making you have my little babies - our little babies?“ 
 You slipped into the lacy of her panties and ran your fingers between her wet, slick folds, collecting some arousal before positioning yourself against her sensitive bundle of nerves.  
 The weed gave her body an increased sense of touch, making her clit extra sensitive as you gently began rubbing her in a clockwise motion. 
“You’d be such a good little mommy, and fuck- would you look so pretty with a cute little round belly and big milky tits that I could just suck on!” 
“- mhm, my g-god-” Chrissy breathily moaned, completely drunk off your words. She fucking loved it when you spoke like this. She became a little slut for it. “I wish you could c-come inside me, s-so bad- and make me a mommy.” 
"Fuck-" You grunted as you released your fingers from her little bud and traced her entrance before thrusting two fingers inside her tight cunt, causing a gasp to escape her lips. 
Chrissy's slick inner walls left your fingers glistening with her arousal. You could feel her stretching pussy gripping around you, almost like she never wanted you to leave as you simply massaged her pussy.
Seconds later, you were knuckles deep inside her, curling your fingers roughly against the spot that made her thighs shudder and her knees weaken. 
You could feel her hot clit throbbing against the palm of your hand as you fucked her at the perfect pace that set her nerves on fire and made the tension tighten in her stomach. 
You suddenly stopped and slid your fingers out of her cunt, listening to her let out a desperate little whine as she looked over at you with those big blue eyes. “P-please- don't stop.” 
“Don't worry, babe. I’m just getting us more comfortable.” You hushed her gently before proceeding to move into the back seat of your car. 
“Come ‘mere! I wanna taste that pretty pussy of yours.” 
She instantly nodded like a good girl and slipped her panties off, leaving them on the dashboard before crawling in the backseat with you. 
 Your eyes scanned over her pink, swollen folds. Her pussy was practically begging for your mouth as she hovered over you with her flexible thighs around your head. 
“My good fuckin’ mommy.” Your warm breath tickled her aching cunt, making her softly moan as you grabbed her hips and slowly sunk her down into your mouth, feeling her skirt drape over your head. 
Your nose buried into her clit as you made a cup with your tongue and lapped up her juices. Chrissy’s hands found themselves reaching up, gripping onto the seats to balance herself. 
Your lips teased her clit as you watched her squirm on top of you before detaching with a wet ‘pop’ and flattening your tongue against her labia, allowing Chrissy to rock against you. 
“mhm, y/n!”  
Your hands held your hips and helped rocked herself faster. Your head swaying swiftly under her and tongue working as you devoured her clitoris. The sensation was too much for her to handle. 
Her soft moaning and small whimpers became weak and breathy, her thigh muscles clenched around your head as she moaned out your name one last time, feeling her warm, sweet-tasting cum gush out into your mouth. 
Chrissy squeezed the seats for dear life as your lips wrapped around her swollen clit and began suckling, milking out one last powerful orgasm that left her body tingling with euphoria. 
After she caught her breath, you cleaned her up, slipped her panties back on, and cuddled in the back seat of your car, that was warm with the aroma of sex floating through the air.  
“I can't wait to have a family with you.” Her soft little, fucked out, voice muttered against your chest. You felt your heart flutter as you placed a soft kiss on her temple and rested your chin on the top of her head.  
“Neither can I, Chris.”  
326 notes · View notes
happypopcornprincess · 2 years ago
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
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Pairings - Tony Stark X OC Zara Malik
Premise –  Under circumstances, he could not control, Tony lost his parents, his mentor, and his best friend/former lover. Will he have to lose his love as well?
Word Count - No idea, I'm going absolutely blind on this one.
Warnings: age gap, angst, Canon-level violence, allusions to smut, mentions of blood, explosions.
a/n - Thank you @swaraleeeeeee for this amazing request about Tony and a Desi Reader!!! I am thrilled and excited to share this with everyone yayy! plus, this fic is set in the Age Of Ultron AU universe and is set on the day of Tony's party at his penthouse.
There are references to a specific Horror Series and the story is somewhat inspired by the song Dancing With Our Hands Tied by Taylor Swift. Hope y'all like it :)
Main Masterlist || Requests are open! Keep ‘em coming 😏❤
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I loved you in secret
First sight, yeah, we love without reason
Oh, twenty-five years old
Oh, how were you to know, and
My, love had been frozen
Deep blue, but you painted me golden
Oh, and you held me close
Oh, how was I to know that
- (Dancing With Our Hands Tied) Taylor Swift
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Tony looked around at the party exiting the lab. The Ultron project was complete. JARVIS was now analyzing the AI while keeping an eye on it, and he had successfully convinced Bruce to be a part of it. He needed his help, and extra hands in his lab never hurt.
Now, it was time to party.
He had debated having the party downtown in some fancy hotel but what better place to get wasted than your newly renovated penthouse? He buttoned up his blazer and stepped into the crowd of guests. This brought back memories of college, sneaking out and getting wasted with people he had never met before. Maybe if he was lucky tonight, he'd get to poke at Steve and have a jolly time with Rodney.
But he froze on the stairs looking at the flashes of a familiar emerald-colored fabric in the crowd.
"Stark! There you are!" If it wasn't for Clint slapping his back, he would have walked up to her then and there, and the ruse would be up.
"I… was in the stuff, doing the lab." He babbled, trying his best not to sound obvious. Even though he could be the unafraid playboy billionaire for the entire world, she made him lose his shit. In simple words, she drove him crazy.
Clint made a disgusting face and gestured to him to come along. "You gotta meet Dr. Malik! She's Dr. Cho's colleague. She talked about some crazy biotechnology that I have no idea about but I just know you would love it so…"
He zoned out of what Clint was saying. His entire focus was on her, the smell of jasmine invading his senses. 
She was talking to Natasha and Bruce, both listening to her with rapt attention. He stood just behind her, looking at her back. Her long hair was loose, falling on her back and shoulders, and the loose end of her saree - the same one he bought her - was gracefully tucked on her shoulder, the pleats perfectly symmetrical.
"...and Dr. Cho has been kind enough to let me be a part of her latest research, based in New York." Her sweet voice was what brought him out of his trance. He couldn't believe she was here. "We are working on repairing skin cells for burn victims, a sort of regenerative process that will allow the skin to heal itself without surgery."
"Dr. Malik, I see you haven't met our host." Tony's heart did a somersault at Clint's words, panic written all over his face.
Well, this is really happening.
She turned around fully, facing him and Clint.
No matter how many times he saw her in that damn green saree with the stupid black blouse that blurred the line between decent and sensual. His mind would go blank.
And she had red lipstick on.
She was trying to give him a heart attack.
"Ah, Mister Stark. The Iron Man himself." She gave him a blinding smile, the one she had practiced and prepared for the public.
He realized she was in on it. She was fine with it.
And the ruse continues.
"Just Tony for you, Dr..." He extends his hand and she shakes it as she steps towards him.
"Zara. Zara Malik."
Tony had to fight every fiber of his being not to hold her closer. As if he was meeting her for the first time, he had to play the role.
Don't be a fool, Tony. Let's stay professional.
It was a far cry from their first meeting.
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2 years ago, Mexico
Tony took a breath of relief and looked around him, smiling.
He had always made sure to give a fair share of donations to people in need. Currently, he was standing inside Stark Industries' first free medical center for orphaned children and LGBTQIA+ youth in Mexico. His mother's old friend, Miss Herrera, was willing to take over the project and assist the research students at her alma mater. And Tony was glad to help.
He heard laughter coming from the end of the hallway. Happy was close behind as he opened the doors and entered the room.
Inside was a huge room with at least twenty beds, all empty. In the middle of the room, there was a group of kids, teenagers, and even some adults hovering around a woman wearing her lab coat. Her head was buried in her notebook.
In front of her sat a kid, no older than 15, and another woman stood next to her. This woman would later become known as Dr. Helen Cho. She was rapidly speaking numbers.
His eyebrows shot up as he realized that it was a contest.
"...plus fourteen divided by six, and the entirety multiplied by Nineteen. Go!"
Both the woman and the kid scribbled like crazy in their notebooks and seconds later the kid screamed, "249!"
"It's correct." The woman spoke up, and cheers erupted all around them.
"Oh come on!" The woman competing threw up her hands, but you could hardly guess she was even upset about losing, as a huge grin was plastered on her face.
That was when she turned to him, and Tony saw Zara for the first time.
But she wasn't the only one to notice him, as the entire army of kids and teens ran to him, looking at the legendary Iron Man.
After what felt like hours of answering their endless questions, he finally got to talk to Cho and Zara.
Cho jumped on the opportunity to tell him about the research they had been doing and volunteering for the kids in their free time. She couldn’t control her excitement about meeting the legendary man behind the iron mask. Zara, on the other hand, was calm and steady. She had a pleasant face. She answered some questions for him and spoke where Cho stumbled, but otherwise remained silent. Tony admits he didn’t fall for her at that moment.
He did when she asked him out on a date. 
He was 38. She was 25.
His first reaction was, “I’m sorry, what?”
She smiled, fidgeting with her hands. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I would love to grab dinner with you sometime.”
Happy’s jaw was hanging open. And Tony was flabbergasted.
“I… Uh… I would love to, Zara Mali- Zara. Zara. Can I call you Zara?” He blinked.
She blushed, “sure, Mr. Stark.”
“Please, it’s Tony. And yeah, sure, I'll see you tomorrow night?” He smiled, fumbling with his hands as he backed out of the room, almost colliding with Happy in the process. However, he somehow made it to the elevator.
“Holy shit.” he breathed out. Happy handed him a napkin.
It was then that he realized he was sweating, his heart racing. It was the first time in a long time someone asked him out, not the other way around. He was so used to asking people out that he had completely forgotten what it felt like to be on the other end.
It felt nice.
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Zara felt overwhelmed, being around people she had heard about so much that she knew like old friends. Tony would never shut up about his teammates, the latest updates that he did on their weapons and suits, and their habits that annoyed him.
Oh, Tony.
Zara knew Tony was scared for her after what happened with Pepper. After Killian's fiasco, they remained friends, but Zara understood that a part of Tony would always love Pepper. She was his first love. They had mutually agreed to keep their relationship a secret. JARVIS and Happy were the only ones who knew about her, and Rodney found out after accidentally waking in on one of their intense ‘love-making’ sessions. 
He was standing right next to her, in the charcoal suit she helped pick up. It felt weird to talk to him as she had never known him at all. It hurt him too.
His face was expressionless as he slowly sipped his champagne. He looked at her occasionally but averted his eyes as soon as someone else noticed.
Bruce spoke to her after the group had scattered to find a refill for their drinks. "I would love to hear more about this project Dr. Malik. This is promising work."
"You flatter me Dr. Banner" She spoke, “but of course, you are welcome to Seoul anytime you wish.” He smiled and strode ahead to Natasha, who was now behind the bar having a chat with Thor.
“Zara.” she smiled as she turned to Tony, “a heads up would have been great, I almost died watching you here.”
She grimaced apologetically, “Cho practically dragged me here. I denied but she was dead set on taking me as her plus one, and I tried to call you so many times today that you didn’t pick up. I’m sorry Tony I-”
He nodded with a gentle expression on his face. “I was in the lab the entire day. My phone was off. And I should be the one who is sorry. I know how horrible you must be feeling right now. I just," huffed out a laugh, “I really want to climb up this building and scream at the top of my lungs how much I love you.”
Zara tilted her head as she gazed at him. “I love you, Tony.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and raised his brows at her saree, stepped closer, and said in a low whisper, “and I can’t wait to take this off tonight.”
Her lips parted in surprise as he stepped away smirking.
“Is he bothering you?”
She jumped as she heard Rodney’s voice coming from behind her.
“holy shit, you scared me.” she laughed, and Rodney laughed along with her.
“It’s been a while,” he says, smirking, and flashes of how they met the first time involuntarily invade her mind.
She grimaced, closing her eyes, “uh, yeah, the last time we met wasn’t exactly the most ideal situation to have a chat. But nice to see you, Rhodes.”
“Chill, it’s fine. I didn’t know you had taken it public or I would have-”
“No!” she stops him before he says anything further, “uh, I’m here by coincidence. We’re still under wraps. I just want Tony to feel comfortable talking to people when he wants to.”
“Well, he’s been a bit off for a few days. Just keep close to him.”
“Will do.”
“Hey, we’re having an after-party. Cho's been invited by Thor. Wanna join?” he asks, sipping his scotch.
“Why not!”
“cool, see you around.” Rodney smiles and joins Tony at the bar.
She pulls out her phone to contact Jarvis, a desperate attempt to let Tony know she will be here longer, but she couldn’t. She tries again, but Jarvis seems unresponsive.
Tony might have put him on some sort of update.
She doesn’t think twice about it, instead opting to have a drink to calm her nerves.
All while being unaware of the fact that just meters above their heads, the AI was fighting for his life against something that would change everything.
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I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets
Picture of your face in an invisible locket
You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it
I had a bad feeling
and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis
People started talking, putting us through our paces
I knew there was no one in the world who could take it
I had a bad feeling
/---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---/
One month ago, in Seoul, South Korea
"You seem tense.” Zara hummed as she caressed his chest, right where his arc reactor used to be. She scooted closer, her warm body pressing against his, as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Thinking about this new hydra base we are attacking next week,” he replied, playing with her hair. He enjoyed doing that a lot. He would braid it sometimes, or he would just run his fingers through it. They were always so soft, and they smelled really pleasant. He smiled as he remembered once begging her to tell him how she had such crazy volume. She just shrugged and said it was genetics.
“I’m scared,” she mumbles.
“Hey,” he turns his head to her, taking her face in his hand, “I’ll be fine.” he smiles.
“I know, it’s just,” she props up on her elbow, hovering over him, “you have this thing about saving others before yourself. You think about everyone before you,” she brushes a strand of his hair. “I want you to promise me something.”
"Anything, Z," he replied.
"You'll come back. Okay, you will come back to me no matter what.” She looks at him with such concern that it breaks his heart.
“I promise, Z, I will.” he squeezes her hand.
She breathes out, “And I know you survived a wormhole in space and a psychotic Norse God but you have to do this, for me.” she smiles, a strand of her hair falling on her face.
Tony tackles her on her back, kissing her fiercely, grabbing her waist to press her tightly against him.
He can’t lose her. He won’t lose her.
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But we were dancing
Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied
Yeah, we were dancing
Like it was the first time, first time
Yeah, we were dancing
Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied
Yeah, we were dancing
And I had a bad feeling
But we were dancing
/---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---/
The after-party
"Are you even pulling?”
“Are you on my team?”
"Just represent! Pull!”
Zara couldn’t help but laugh as she witnessed Tony and Rodney trying to lift Mjolnir. Truthfully, it was a desperate attempt with their suit gauntlets that were almost smoking.
The champagne in their systems did not help at all. They gave up, at last, Rodney punching Tony's arm for being dragged into this mess.
And this time, instead of taking his seat, he plopped down next to her.
He rested his head on the backrest of the couch, pouting. “It’s rigged," he said.
“It’s magic,” she replied.
“Point Break is cheating.”
She laughed out loud, “no, he’s not”
As she reclines in her seat, she looks at him through hooded eyes. Her head was fuzzy even after just two drinks, and he was so close, with his tie loose, his sleeves rolled up, smiling at her. A kiss to drive him senseless was all she could think of.
He raised his hand, swaying his palm in front of her. “Dance with me?”
She took a sharp breath, watching from the corner of her eye how Clint nudged Maria to look at them.
“Are you sure?” she asked, raising her brows.
“C’mon,” he smiled, blinking at her like she was the only one in the room.
She placed her hand on his, and he pulled her to the clear space behind the couch they were sitting on.
And the speakers blasted Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield.
Zara laughed out loud as Tony shimmied his shoulders to the beat. She heard a hoot and saw others joining in. Bruce and Natasha danced as a couple, and Steve somehow joined Clint and Maria in a conga line.
She felt strong arms grab her waist and pull her forward, meeting her chest with Tony. Zara grabbed his shoulders as they swayed to the music. He bopped his head as he held her arm and swayed her to the music, spinning her and holding her close. 
Zara could see Natasha eyeing them suspiciously, but she didn’t care anymore. Her boyfriend smiled lovingly at her as she looked into his eyes. His cheeks were pink.
Was he blushing?
She was lost in his eyes, the feel of his hands on her waist, and the way his breath fanned her face.
She almost missed the disembodied robot coming towards them. 
It was only when she heard its chilling distorted voice and felt Tony tensed up that she realized this was not going to end well.
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Tony's first instinct was to pull Zara behind him, and as soon as he realized JARVIS was gone, his grip on her hand tightened. Upon hearing his voice through the tiny speaker in its body, his mind kicked into overdrive.
So much for armor around the world.
He saw how Cap stood discreetly next to the wooden coffee table and how Thor grabbed the handle of Mjolnir.
He could feel the tension in the air as his teammates tried to buy some time before it rained down.
He had to get Zara out of here fast.
“What better way to cleanse the world than starting with the annihilation of the Avengers? And as with the battle of New York, a few collaterals like Miss Zara won’t hurt anyone.”
Tony’s entire body turned cold as soon as he heard that.
Ultron hasn’t just killed JARVIS, he also absorbed his database, including the knowledge of Zara and what she is to him.
He had only a second to look at her blood-drained face when the walls collapsed, his own robots dead set on killing them all.
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That’s when a lot of things happened all at once.
Steve kicked the table as two robots flew into it.
Thor began to thrash as many as he could.
Clint and Hill started shooting, while Natasha tried to save Bruce.
Tony pushed her harshly towards the grand piano and ran towards the nearest robot.
It was chaos all around her.
She tried crawling behind it, but she met a dead end. She turned around to see Steve crash into a glass wall. Her heart raced, her body kicking into survival mode. Her eyes scanned the room for a place to hide. Her eyes followed Thor as he blasted a robot with lightning, and for a split second, she saw it. The clearing under the staircase was obstructed by a pillar in front of it.
Adrenaline took over, and she dashed towards it with all her might.
It rained glass, something was on fire, and the smell of burning wood surrounded her, but her only focus was on her goal.
And she would have made it if it wasn’t for the torso of a robot flying right in front of her.
Its arm was raised and she met the glowing palm of its hand on her face.
Zara jumped to her right, behind the couch, and onto the broken shards of glass.
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HYDRA base, Sokovia.
Tony overlooked the destruction unleashed in front of his eyes.
The Chitauri army invaded, setting the planet on fire.
The Avengers lay dead on the rocks. Steve’s shield was broken, Natasha's face was bleeding, and Bruce wasn’t breathing.
He staggered back, wondering for a second about how he ended up here when he was just standing near the scepter seconds ago. His mind begged him to see if it wasn’t real.
He felt something on his leg and he looked down.
He hoped he never did, for he saw Zara on his feet.
He fell to his knees as he held her lifeless frame, her eyes closed, her face covered in blood, and a glass shard prodding out of her chest.
He screamed, shook her, and begged for her to open her eyes but she just lay there.
Dead.
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Tony found Zara staggering away from the glass around her. Her hair was caked in blood, and glass wounds covered her entire right arm. He immediately held her, helping her stand up. She groaned as she got up, glancing at her right arm to see it covered in blood. And then she looked at Tony.
She held his face in her palms. "Are you okay?” Her voice was dripping with worry.
He couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips. “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” his fingers ghosted over her injured temple, and he swallowed hard, his heart racing as he realized how seriously hurt she was.
“Zara I-” he started as he got interrupted by Cho, “젠장 (shit; in Koren) Zara you’re bleeding!” Zara gave her a nod as Cho let out a sigh of relief.
She then looked at him, still shocked at what had happened, and froze.
Her eyes traveled between Zara and him, and the way they were holding each other.
She opened her mouth to say something but Steve's voice interrupted her.
“Stark,” Tony turned around to see Cap standing behind them, along with the rest of the Avengers. “Care to explain what the hell was that?"
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“This is roomier than my first apartment.” Cho looked around the laundry room in Tony’s penthouse.
Tony had led her there with Cho, as the others were in the adjacent conference room. He had handed them a first aid kit and was now having a shouting match with his team. Their muffled shouts could be heard from inside.
Zara had gotten rid of her saree, was wearing one of Tony’s t-shirts she found in the folded laundry and was sitting on the toilet with its lid closed. Cho knelt in front of her, cleaning her wounds.
“So, you and Stark…” she asks, dabbing her wounds with a sterile cloth.
“Yep.” she breathes out, looking at her.
“You could have told me Z.” Cho pouts, “I thought you were getting catfished when you told me about your long-distance boyfriend from New York. Did he force you to not tell anyone?”
"Helen, come on!" Zara laughed. "We mutually decided not to disclose anyone. We were taking it slow. Plus, you saw what happens when it’s discovered I’m dating Tony.”
Cho smiles, continuing to clean her wounds. “He really loves you, you know, I can tell by the way he almost cried watching you hurt.”
Zara squeezes Cho’s shoulder. "We just wanted to keep it private. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who he was.”
“Oh it’s alright, you told me the rest” Cho laughs, “like the fact that he’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” she smirks as she rolls off her bandage.
Zara bites her cheek, desperately trying not to smile.
“Oh god! He is?” Cho exclaimed.
“I’m not going to say it.”
“It’s written on your face.”
“Helen!”
“What? I’ve known you since sophomore year Z. I could sense the sexual tension between you while we were dancing and I knew something was up.”
Zara smiled, and Helen added, “I want a tub of ice cream, masks, and a girl's night. You're gonna start from the beginning and tell me everything about dating Tony Stark.”
“Yes ma’am” she mocks saluted her, and they burst into laughter, forgetting for a minute what was happening outside the doors.
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Tony rubbed his temples after the team started to depart. His mind raced at the highest speed to figure out how to handle the situation. Bruce slapped his shoulder before walking away with Natasha. Tonight had taken a toll on everyone around him.
He had to figure out how ULTRON managed to kill JARVIS and infiltrate the internet. and then he had to wipe Zara out of his database before he becomes sentient.
AI or not, he was about to outsmart him. He made him after all. 
“Tony.”
Her voice made him snap out of his trance, and he saw Zara standing next to him.
She was wearing one of his band shirts, and a pair of black sweats. The bandage on her head and the numerous cuts on her face and arms just motivated him further. She hugged him, her arms wrapping around his torso as she hid her face in the crook of his neck. He hugged her back, careful of the cuts.
“I have to return to Seoul and evacuate the labs. I’ll be back once it’s done.”
“Helen,” Zara was about to say something to her but she cut her off, “Zara, those people are under my supervision. I need to get them to safety.” she squeezed Zara’s hands, and then looked at Tony, “keep her safe.”
“Zara,” he retreated as he cupped her face, looking her in the eyes, “as much as it hurts me to say, you need to get out of here.”
“What?” her face contorted with confusion.
“He’s right.” Hill added as they turned towards her, typing furiously on her phone, “ULTRON knows who you are. And he will use you to get to stark, and the Avengers.”
He could feel her stiffen under his touch, Tony turned her face o look at him, “Z, look at me, hey,” he caressed her face, “It’s gonna be okay, Clint is gonna be with you. You’ll be completely safe at this place.”
“What about you?” she held onto his wrist, her eyes brimming with tears.
“I have to take care of this.”
“You’re going to fight this thing?” her lips trembled, and her grip tightened on his hands.
 It physically hurt him to see her about to cry, “I made him, Zara. This is my responsibility.”
Zara gulped, looking at Clint from the corner of her eye, “You remember our promise?”
“Yeah.”
“If you die, stark, I’ll kill you.” tears fell from Zaras eyes, and Tony held on to her tightly, managing to give her a sad smile..
“I love you.” he said.
“I love you more.” She hugged him tightly, and just for a second, Tony fiddled with the idea of not letting her go.
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“You’ve never been on a Quinjet?” Clint asked from the control panel of the Quinjet. 
“Nope.” Zara answered with a wavered voice. It was her first time in the futuristic jet. She had listened in rapt attention about all the design advancements Tony had done on the jet one day while making breakfast. But it was less thrilling to go barelling through the sky in an aircraft known to be attacked mid air numerous times.
“It’s hard to believe Tony never took you on a joyride in this.”
She huffed out a laugh, “he tried, but I chickened out last minute.” Clint laughed out loud.
“So, where is this place?” Zara asked, clutching her body straps in a death grip.
“well,” Clint turned to her, the jet on autopilot, “Tony’s not the only one among the avengers with a secret relationship.” he smiled, confusing Zara even more.
He akes out a pack of UNO card game from his infinite pockets of his pants, “up for a game?”
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I'd kiss you as the lights went out
Swaying as the room burned down
I'd hold you as the water rushes in
If I could dance with you again
/---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---//---/---/---/---/---/---/
10 Days Later
When Clint mentioned a secret relationship, Zara expected a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Not a wife who was a former SHIELD agent and two kids younger than her distant cousins, not to ignore the fact that Laura was pregnant with a third. Since she met Clint’s family, they had taken her in as one of their own. At first she tried to keep her distance, given the fact that just by staying at their home she was putting them in danger too. But Cooper and Lila wanted to know everything about her job at U-GIN. And when they found out she loved horror movies, she had turned into their favourite person.
It was a sunny afternoon, and Laura and she had decided to have a small picnic on their porch. “Dr. Malik look!” Lila jumped continuously until Zara turned to her. She excitedly handed her a drawing of a butterfly, overflowing with all sorts of vibrant colors.
“It’s beautiful! Thank you, Lila.” she says, smiling as she tucked the drawing neatly inside a file.
“Lila there’s a Resident Evil re run gong on hurry!” Cooper called from inside.
Lila stood up hastily, and ran away, “don’t start without me!”
“I’m sorry if they bother you too much.” Laura says, leaning on the armchair beside her. She was subconsciously rubbing her belly, baby Nat will be here any day now.
“No, no, I love kids. Got some little cousins back home who are always a delight.” she smiles. In the past days Laura has become somewhat like her elder sister. She kept her calm for the first few days when her nerves were all over the place, and she didn’t let her lift a finger and rest while she and the kids did all the heavy work around the house. She was almost 9 months in for crying out loud.
Just then she heard a distant rumbling. A jet engine.
“oh my god! they’re here!” Laura spoke up.
Zara got up from her seat, helping Laura to get up too.
The Avengers were successful in getting The Cradle from ULTRON, taking it back to Stark Tower and making Vision. They stopped an attack on Sokovia, Vision helping them determine what was about to happen with the help of the twins. ULTRON planned on making the city fly, and make a blast so powerful that it would have wiped out all the humans on earth in one go.
Thankfully nobody got hurt, and they stopped the attack before it happened, evacuating the city and killing ULTRON.
Clint told them everything the other day, telling them that he would return soon. When Zara asked about Tony, Clint said he was busy with all the legal stuff with the government that centered around ULTRON. He said he was sorry that he couldn’t talk to you, and also told them how he hasn’t slept in two days. She almost rolled her eyes if it weren’t for all the crying she had been doing with Laura listening to their story.
The Jet was nearing, and now even Cooper and Lila were out of the house. Before either one could stop them, they ran across the field towards the fence.
The Quinjet landed just outside the fence, and out came the Avengers.
Zara helped Laura down the steps, as Clint ran to his kids. She laughed with Laura when they tackled him to the ground. Natasha followed him, and she could see Steve, Thor and Bruce making their way awkwardly towards the family.
She halted on her steps when she saw the figure descending down the stairs of the jet.
He buttoned up his blazer, taking off his sunglasses and giving her the smug smile that stole her heart in the first place.
Zara didn’t realise she was running until she was halfway through the yard. but she sped up as Tony opened his arms, jumping right into them.
He picked her up, spinning her round, laughing through the tears of reunion. He set her down as she wiped her eyes, and his too.
“Told you I’ll come back to you.” he smiled at her softly, resting his forehead against hers. She breathed him in, caressing his face, careful of the small cuts scattered across his face.
“we got matching cuts.” she laughed, pointing to the scar on her temple, and to a somewhat similar cut on his head.
He laughed along with her, holding her close and kissing her forehead in return.
He was home.
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A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests about this AU is mostly welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!
Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.
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