WARNINGS: Nemean Lion Alpha Ada, GP Ada because I said so, parents AU, est. relationship (they're mates), tribe AU, omega r, feral Ada, primal Ada, groping, teasing, delayed gratification, spanking, dry humping, anal sex, anal penetration, unprotected sex, raw sex, p0rn without plot, cockwarming, marking and biting.
SYNOPSIS: When your mate returns from scouting, she comes back needy. But when you decide to ignore her, she takes matters in her own hands.
MEN, MINORS DNI
The cubs are out playing, and you're doing chores.
And your mate?
Needy.
She had just returned from doing her rounds with the pack's men. Now she's seated at the straw settee, legs spread, exposing her raging bulge beneath her long loin cloth, sweat coating her torso–highlighting her abs.
Gods, she looks delectable. So delectable, that maybe delayed gratification is the best solution–for now.
So what did you do?
You hand her a cup of water and resume cleaning the hut. Your mate blinks at you, appalled by your choice to ignore the obvious need in between her legs.
"What?" She huffs and pats on her strong thighs. "Mate. Come."
Her call falls on deaf ears while you tidied up. With a low growl she stands in full-height and strides towards you. Your stomach churns as your eyes linger at her domineering stature before you pretend not to see her and clean the makeshift kitchen.
Strong arms wrap around your waist as she pins your front against the clay counter. A sharp gasp leaves your lips when her calloused hands grope your breasts, teasing your nipples, eliciting both a sigh and a moan from you while she grinds her hard cock against your ass. Her breath hot and desperate as she pins her full weight against you.
"Need. Mate." Ada whines, nipping the shell of your ear, her cock needing attention.
However, you continue to play ignorant to her needs. "Ada, my love, I need to clean."
Another whine vibrates from her lips as she humps against you like a needy young lion, her precum is soiling her loin cloth, creating an obvious wet spot against the fabric as she curls her arms tighter and continue fondling your chests, palming and squeezing them with her hands.
Your hands held onto the counter for support as moans and mewls tumble from your lips. Ada's lips morph into a mischievous smirk as she rubs her hips before thrusting her covered, aching member against your clothed ass.
"Dirty," Your mate huffs and spanks your rear before shamelessly rutting against you in abandon. Your cunt flutters and clenches around nothing as a pool of wetness stains the rear of your tribal skirt.
Your head drops as you feel the clothed tip poke against your covered folds, wetness seeping through the fabric and all you can think of is how her cock would feel inside your walls again–but not now.
Her lips press against the muscles at the back of your neck, leaving a trail of saliva, matching the way her cock is dribbling with precum; you both can hear the way your clothes rub against each other before your inhibitions are thrown out of the window and turn around, pulling the savage for a wet, sloppy kiss.
Ada pushes you to sit against the counter, her hands guiding your hips to rub against hers as muffled grunts reverberate from her chest as she rubs her hips against you. Your lungs burned for oxygen as you continue to kiss her before pulling back, leaving a string of saliva before she kisses it away and hides her face in the crook of your neck, her soft, whiny moans vibrating against your skin.
Her hands snake to your ass, grabbing and squeezing it before landing a soft spank. Your eyes roll back as she fastens the face, her hips not leaving yours as she continues to gyrate, creating a sweet, eye-rolling friction as your hand grabs onto her leather tunic, slipping into the gaps where her skin is exposed and touching, scratching her there.
The short-haired brute groans, her cock stands proud as it rubs against yours clothed pussy, veins throbbing and balls pressed against the shaft as she humps against you, heavy with fertile seed.
She removes her face from your neck and kisses you again, wet, needy and sloppy. Your wet lip-locking echoes throughout the shared space as you both give into your needs.
Ada guides her cock against the hood your clit, rubbing and plowing against you. You bite your lower lip to prevent a loud moan from erupting as more precum seeps through Ada's loincloth. You press yourself against her, hips shamelessly meeting hers as you hump against each other. Both eyes are closed and jaws slack.
"Ngnn–mpphh" The beast whines before her teeth latch onto your skin, piercing the flesh as her orgasm sweeps through her body and you feel a familiar sensation brewing in your stomach before a gush of wetness spurts from your folds while Ada's knot knot pops out, creating a bigger bulge through her cloth as it spills her seed.
You both stay cuddled while Ada purrs and kisses your scent glands around your neck, licking it flat with her tongue while you play with the ends of her hair.
After a few minutes, Ada's wasted knot loosens and reverts back to normal before she shakes out of her daze and lens down, pecking your lips.
"Me want more," She rumbled, on cue, you feel her harden again. Your chest heaves, still recovering from your orgasm as you look at your mate.
Eyes bright, pleading for more as she moves her hips.
Swallowing, your lips brush against her ear. "Keep the cubs busy first."
With a huff, Ada reluctantly pulls away from you. You nearly whine from the loss of her warmth before you slump against the counter.
From the window, you see Ada approach the twins with her hands on her hips, telling them something.
A small smile graces your lips when the twins eagerly nod and continue playing with the wooden toys that Ada had patiently carved during her spare time.
Ada strides back to the hut and huffs, "Bed. Now." She didn't even wait for you to comply as she grabs your wrist, tugging you to your shared private quarters.
You giggle at her impatience before it gets cut off with a gasp as she effortlessly throws you to the sheets. She quickly disregards her loincloth, powerful arms ripping the leather tunic with little to no effort–you feel yourself get wet at the display of power and savagery displayed by your mate as she gestures a finger for you to lay on your stomach.
Gulping and needy, you obey your mate's silent command as she perched herself on the sheets, stalking towards you like a predator.
You bite your lower lip, seeing her shadow loom above you while her hands make quick work on tearing your skirt, tossing it haphazardly across the room. A gasp falls from your lips as your folds flutter against the air, moist and in need of relief. But Ada's eyes focus onto your ass, grabbing, spanking and kneading.
You're left as a whimpering, moaning mess as her thumb penetrates your ass. Your mate grins and retracts her thumb before pushing her girthy cock inside your rear before thrusting with abandon, each pull and push knocks the breath from your lungs.
She quickly tears your shirt and pushes you into the mattress, fingers sprawled, clawing at the animal hides as she ruts into you.
Ada grits her fangs, hands gripping your hips, dragging you against her cock, using you, holding you.
"Tight." The beast growls, "Warm."
With one hand sliding up your back, pressing you down between your shoulder blades, forcing your arch deeper, making you feel every inch of her splitting you open.
The alpha leans down, whispering against your ear. "Mine."
On cue the muscles inside your anus clenches around her, ripping a pristine moan from the barbarian as she fucks into you. Harder.
The bed creaks, her cum and precum smearing your ass with your slick as she plows her hips savagely; taking you like you're nothing more than a toy for her pleasure.
Ada's pace is simply delicious. Sloppy, rude hips smacking against your ass, your back is arched, hands clawing anything for support as fucks into you.
"A-Ah!" You cry out as she uses her strength against your poor body; her pace unforgiving, propelling herself into your ass. She bites her lower lip from the way your ass contracts against her–so snug. Amber-hued crevices narrow while observing the way your ass quakes from her powerful plows.
She bites into your shoulder again before lapping it clean with her tongue.
Your eyes roll back as you push your ass against her front, chasing your release–both your release, and Ada moans before plowing her cock deep, pumping you full before her knot pops out.
Both if your moans echo in the room as Ada stills her hips while she pumps your ass full of cum.
Your orgasm follows suit, legs trembling as you drip onto the bed, your mixed essence creating a mess on the sheets. Your mate lands lone last spank against your ass before resting against you.
You both pant against each other, Ada's lips press soothing kisses against your nape before kissing your mark. Both mates knowing it won't be long until she decides to impregnate you with a third cub.
Summary: Ellie finally confesses her love for you, and it doesn't go as she thought it would.
Ellie still remembered when she first arrived in Jackson. You were one of the few people who welcomed her and Joel; you were nice and sweet—so, so sweet. In the short time you two had, you created a wonderful connection.
You and Ellie have been best friends ever since. As you both got older, especially in your late teens, you went on patrols together and spent nights at her place, doing whatever. You two were inseparable. Then things got awkward between you two. It was as if Ellie grew distant; it wasn't on purpose.
She just started to feel weird around you. Her face would grow warm, she felt butterflies in her stomach, and her knees would feel weak. She had never felt this way before. Her journal had so many drawings of you; some of them were how she imagined you looked naked.
Fuck, she had such a hard time drawing those. It was currently the winter dance in Jackson. The area was glowing from the string lights and was filled with music, dancing, and people drinking, including Ellie. She wouldn't even be there if you hadn't asked if she was coming.
She was just holding her drink in her hand, watching you dance with someone else, imagining she was the one holding you instead, making you laugh and you smile as big as you were. She was too lost in her thoughts to notice you walking up to her.
By the time she realized you were in front of her, you had looped your arms over her shoulders. "Hey, babe," you said. God, you were always such a flirt; she loved you so much. Her breathing got heavy, and she nervously bit her lip. Would you accept her love?
Would you embrace all her affection? What if your feelings weren’t the same? "Hello? Earth to Ellie," you said, shaking her and snapping her out of her thoughts. "Shit, sorry, what were you saying?" She gave you an awkward smile. "I asked if you wanted to dance with me, dumbass. So, do you?"
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so you pulled her onto the floor with a smile on your face. Once you two were there, she awkwardly wrapped her arms around your waist without meeting your gaze at all.
"Come on, dance with me," you said as you started to sway back and forth. She awkwardly moved with you, leaving a little bit of space between you two. You could easily tell her thoughts were elsewhere. All Ellie had to do was say something, yet she just couldn’t muster up the courage.
She looked around and saw Dina and Jesse watching the two of you with grins on their faces. She flipped them off subtly; she would deal with both of them later. Right now, all of her attention was on you. Then, you wrapped your arms around her neck, causing her to get this stupidly adorable grin on her face.
But how could she not? She was a bit drunk and dancing with the girl she was in love with. Being this close together was making her head swim. "Why the hell are you smiling like that, El?" you asked. She looked at you, wanting to kiss you so badly. You two were so close; it was driving her insane.
You looked so pretty; all she could think about were the things she wanted to do to you. Then she realized she hadn't replied to you. "Nothing, umm, I'm just... I'm just thinking, is all," she replied, looking down. She was never good at expressing her feelings, so she didn't say anything. She just looked at you, wanting to tell you so badly, but she kept her lips shut.
"Tell me, why have you been distant lately, Ellie?" Her throat felt dry. She wanted so, so fucking badly to tell you how she felt; she just couldn't find the words. "I haven't been distant," she finally said. It was a lie; you both knew it. You two were drunk as hell, so maybe you would just forget the whole conversation. To hell with it!
"I love you." It was said so quietly that it was almost impossible to hear. "I love you so, so much. I have no clue what to do with myself around you. My heart beats so fast whenever you're with me. I want to hold you; I want to kiss you." There was silence between the two of you for a few seconds before Ellie took a deep breath and spoke again.
"I'm sorry; I just became distant. I didn't know how to deal with my feelings for you, I guess. Please say something—anything." Ellie looked at you, her heart racing; it was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. "And I was scared to tell you because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. Please, please say something; I need to know how you feel."
This was it; you were going to reject her, say what a freak she was, and never talk to her again. She was panicking. Did you even feel the same? Was this going to be the end of your friendship? "Are you seriously kidding me? I know I'm a flirt, but it's always different when I do it with you. You're really a dumbass for not realizing."
She was in shock; you had always been flirting with her, but she thought it was just you being yourself. You'd flirt with anyone, but you loved her all along, and she didn’t notice. Was it because she got too caught up in being scared to tell you, "You love me too?" You had just pulled her by the shirt and kissed her.
Ellie's knees buckled slightly; she didn't expect you to kiss her at all, especially in the middle of the floor. It felt weird but so damn good. When you pulled away, she was completely dumbfounded. " Well, that was something I’ve been waiting to do for so, so long." She was still wrapping her head around the fact that this was actually happening.
Damn, she wished she had the guts to do that earlier. You two could've been together way sooner.
A/N: I'm aware this isn't the best; it's my first attempt at something like this. I just wanted to try something different, and hopefully, if I keep doing this enough, I will get better at writing. This is based on "Sex Shop" by King Princess.
You're not her, but you are a version of her, one that I can save (Sue Storm x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You are from another universe, one where the Fantastic Four existed but lost against Galactus in his pursuit for Franklin Richards and the devouring of your world, you spent years travelling the multiverse searching for the woman that you failed to save - then finally you found her on Earth 828 - a married Sue Storm with a baby Franklin who Galactus is hunting
a/n: reader is an immortal with multiversal travel and telepathy, sapphic reader, implied bisexual sue storm, mentions of grief and guilt, no earth 828 sue is not going to cheat on reed
This is it, this has to be it.
The thought ran through your head for what must've been the one hundredth time. Every universe and dimension that you had traveled to so far had let you down, in some Sue was alive but she had no powers, in some she was already dead sometimes before Franklin and Galactus but sometimes after, in a few she had turned from a superhero to a villain and in the rare few she didn't exist at all.
You were tired, exhausted, not just physically from so much travelling but also mentally and emotionally. The death of your Sue Storm, the abduction of Franklin and the destruction of your universe had weighed on you constantly.
You missed her.
Her wavy almost white blonde hair, her piercingly blue eyes, the gentle touch from her hands with memories of her being so close to you. She was your Sue Storm, your Invisible Woman, although she was never invisible to you.
On your world things were different, Reed had died in a fight and Sue found out she was pregnant after his death. You were her support, her comfort and as the years passed you became her love, and she became yours. It was perfect, it was healing, and then all of a sudden it was gone.
Franklin, still a small child at the time, was being hunted by Galactus and you tried so hard. Trying, however, was not enough. Franklin was taken and Sue exerted herself through rage to the point of death, Galactus crushed Ben and Johnny didn't even have a chance to fight back.
Galactus won. Franklin became his successor. Your world devoured.
A sigh escapes your lips as your portal to a new world places you on the balcony of the Baxter Building, the one thing that seemed to remain the same in every universe you went to. You could see your reflection in the glass, a young face that stopped aging decades ago.
You opened the door and made your way through the building, this retrofuturistic 60s is not a dimension you had experienced before but you knew the layout of the building. No matter how different it looked, you had walked through so many of them that it was practically engraved into your brain. Your feet carrying you down the halls, the silence surrounding you as you took quiet steps to avoid waking anyone nearby or triggering any safety measures that had been set in place.
This is the last one, the last hope.
You were so tired of travelling that you were about to give up, accept that maybe you'd never be bale to save any version of Sue. Your hand gently pushed open the door and the warm light of a lamp nearby illuminated your face, taking a few steps in and your heart grew with hope as you laid eyes on the crib with a small Franklin peacefully asleep inside. Tears welling up in your eyes as you walk over and stand next to the crib, looking at him and hoping that this meant Sue was alive. The silence didn't last long as Franklin slowly woke up and looked at you, his eyes full of curiosity as you reached in and gently picked him up.
"Hi Franklin...you don't know me, but I know you..and you are giving me so much hope right now." You say as you hold him in your arms.
Franklin responds in a small baby coo and the clapping of his hands, but thanks to your telepathy and his powers you could hear him in his head.
I know you, you feel familiar and trustworthy, like a mother.
You laugh softly, "I suppose you don't understand, or maybe you do, after all you're a very powerful baby but I won't let him take you again."
"Who are you?"
That voice. It makes you stop and turn only to be greeted by the sight of her, Sue Storm, she looked exactly like your Sue Storm before everything went wrong and next to her, Reed, he was alive. Though you didn't care, she was here and so was Franklin.
"You don't know me, but I know you and I know your son." You say as Franklin remains in your arms, calm and curious. "I'm not here to hurt anybody, I'm here to help, against Galactus."
"You know Galactus?" Reed asks as he stands with Sue, neither had moved towards in fear of you hurting Franklin.
The tears in your eyes slowly roll down your face, "I do because he destroyed my world...in another universe." You look at Franklin and smile sadly at him. "In my world, Franklin was a small child and you, Reed, had passed away before we even knew Sue was expecting...and one day after several years of believing we were safe...he won."
The sadness in your heart tugged at Sue, something about you made her soften and trust you so easily, "and your Sue? your Franklin?" She asks, terrified of the answer.
"My Sue, my love, exerted herself trying to save Franklin...and Franklin...he was taken, Galactus won. My wife and my friends died. My world devoured." You slowly look at Reed and Sue, the guilt on your face was unlike anything they had ever seen. "I am immortal and I have multiversal travel, I escaped...but everything I loved is gone."
Reed stayed silent and turned to his wife, it was not his place to say anything as this whole thing seemed to revolve around Sue in your world.
You look at Franklin and his soft smile filled your heart with all the love that you had gone years without, it was like he was never taken from you in the first place. Of course he wasn't yours, but everything had been taken from you and you had raised your Franklin like he was your own after your Reed had passed.
"So how do we win?" Sue asks, her composure more relaxed as she steps closer knowing that you would never harm her son.
"I can't tell you that for sure, every universe I've visited my answer has always been wrong, but whatever you need I am here to help." You reply as you slowly hand Franklin back to Sue.
You look at her and a sadness crosses your heart as you stare into those familiar eyes, they were the same ones that you had spent years loving; but at the same time they weren't. It was bittersweet to stand in front of the one you love knowing she got her happy ending, but you would spend eternity never getting to live yours.
Sue could see it in your eyes that you were full of pain, "you really loved your world's me, didn't you?"
"Are you kidding?" You look at Sue with tears in your eyes, a crushing feeling covering you as you realise you can never have the one person you, "my Sue was everything to me and everyday I ask why she was taken from me, why we lost...and I failed to save her, to save my family and I refuse to let that happen again."
Reed steps forward and places a hand on Sue's shoulder, "so what can you do to help?" Reed asks
"Well, I have telepathy and I am immortal and I have travelled so many universes I know his weaknesses. I just never know if we will win." You reply.
Franklin claps his hands together and you smile softly at him, a sad chuckle escaping as you watch him clap.
"Well, we should get you updated on the current plan of action then." Reed says.
Him and Sue leave the room with Franklin and you turn around, looking out the window at the night sky with a sadness in your eyes as you stare at the stars, your Sue was looking down on you from somewhere and whatever happened you would make up for not being able to save her.
{wc: ~400} {top/dom!mc, top/dom!Lilac, bottom/sub!Iliad, double teaming, intended for femme readers but I can’t stop anyone from reading lol}
Iliad wants to push herself to new limits
This fic is a part of @the-midsummer-masquerade
"The Meeting Room" is a popular spot at the masquerade. Couples and singles alike go here to find new playmates. It's a wonderful way to meet new people, as well as spice things up for once.
You wander the room, occasionally chatting with prospective dates, but none ignite that special spark.
Until you find Iliad and Lilac.
Iliad, the taller of the two, lets the sweet looking Lilac handle most of the talking. Iliad has deep blue hair like the ocean, and looks at you like you're a marble sculpture. She's not too shabby herself, with large muscles and scars from battle. But it's covered by a dress made with beautiful enchanted flowers. The same flowers that mask her face. Lilac has soft, purple hair in a bob, and her dress makes her look like a little dove. The mask gives her her beak.
"You two are beautiful."
Lilac giggles in response, "I know." Even Iliad smiles at that.
"What are you two looking for?"
"Oh, well, Iliad's always wanted to try taking two at once, and I think she'd look adorable being double teamed!"
Iliad blushes, but nods along. "It would be a test of my abilities to try to please two partners at once. I will not rest until you and my lover are satisfied."
Iliad did not undress, she merely gathered the material of her dress to expose her ass. Lilac stared at it. For_ quite a while. "Mmm. Pretty."
"Uh, Lilac?"
"Oh, sorry_" she resumes preparing her strap, rubbing lube over the shaft. It's purple, like her hair. Must be her favorite color.
"Lilac, is purple your favorite color?"
"No. It's red."
…..
Iliad begins by tracing her tongue over your own length, before kissing the tip and taking it in her mouth. She works slow. Expertly. Confident that she can please you.
"Could you go faster?"
She looks at you a bit irritated. "Please, let me set the pace. I have a practiced technique, you won't regret it."
Gods, you don't. The way she runs her tongue over your head, teasing the slit before taking your length. It's hot.
Lilac wraps her arms around her lover, kissing her back as she begins to insert herself into Iliad. Iliad pulls off you just long enough so lilac can hear her moans, before returning to your pleasure.
You suspect that this little test of Iliad's will be easy for her. You already feel as if you're indulging in the nectar of the gods, a pleasure unfit for mortals.
This is pure filth. And so much longer than I intended it to be? Like short story length??
Surprisingly (Sadly?), this is my first piece of sapphic anything put out into the world, so I’m definitely open to constructive criticism, but please don’t be an asshole about it. Also, there’s a dearth of good wlw um anything so let’s fucking fix it (as sapphic and wlw people - nonbinary and trans inclusive)!
Anyway, Happy Pride, everyone!!!! Enjoy! :)
Tags: Arwen x Female! Elf! Reader (ITS HER WIFE ARWEN GETS A WIFE), dildos, fingering, I would say a healthy amount of d/s - dommy and possessive Arwen, exhibitionism, married sex (this is solely here to reiterate Arwen’s WIFE), femme 4 femme, orgasm denial and edging but mostly off-screen, begging, being restrained in place, biting
This is a healthy, happy, relationship with well-established exhibitionist scenes at play; discussed off-screen. I’ve probably over tagged, but I like to be safe.
Sapphic tag-list (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed): @starlady66 @glassgulls @wareagleofthemountain
Word Count: 1,411
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“Tease each other, but with love.” -costar
.
.
.
You gasp as a cold snap hits your face as you finally manage your way out of one of the circle dances stomping through the Hall of Fire and into the frigid, snow-dusted, air.
Truly, you think blankly, as you force your numb and shaking legs across the courtyard and onto one of secluded paths, the Solstice festivities this year are something to behold and your-House-by-marriage have outdone themselves in preparation and execution.
There was only so much dancing you were able to take, however, given not only the now late hour, but also considering your adornment for this evening.
Luckily, once you reach the back gardens, you have long passed any elves wandering from the blazing heat in the celebratory hall, allowing you to safely collapse onto a bench without fear of being seen. You quickly loosen the top of your dress and curl your legs under yourself while hiking up your skirt in the hopes that the brisk bite of winter would soothe your flushed and overheated skin.
Trying in vain to regain some sort of equilibrium, you gaze up at the indigo sky and breathe.
Peppered in with the silver stars, the sickle moon hangs high in the sky. You watch your warm, released breaths float back out into the darkness and you wrap your arms around your legs.
Slowly - ever so gently as if she almost regretted disturbing your peace- soft arms draped in luxurious silks wrap around you from behind and pull you against an indulgent frame. Your wife’s honeyed voice murmurs against your skin,
“I had wondered where you might have gone when I saw you leave the Hall.” She nips the tip of your ear as she tightens her hold on you, her fabric-obscured muscles ensnaring you and ensuring you won’t be free until she decides to release you.
One of her hands dips down to dance unhurriedly across your inner thighs. You whimper as her lips brush against your neck. “And yet here you are: already spread open and waiting for me.”
She grins and trails her fingers higher, dragging your skirt with her hand and exposing more of your skin to the night air.
“Vanimelda.” Arwen whispers reverently as she seals your lips together for the first time in an incredibly long evening. You clutch at her arm and press back against her, your shoulders flush against her chest. Ridiculous, she was Vanimelda, not yourself.
But all thoughts escape you as you lose yourself in the taste of Arwen. She kisses you again and again and again. Deeper. Longer. You could swear her lips were softer than when you kissed this morning.
You chase the next one.
“Have you any idea how resplendent you look tonight?” The next kiss is harsher and you want, oh, how much you need her. “How much I craved to touch you in the firelight, but could not?”
“Could not?! You - !” She swiftly kisses you again, cutting off your complaint, and she begins working apart the laces that held closed the front of your gown. You had opted to not wear your shift for this banquet.
“Arwen,” You whimper when her fingers brush roughly against your chest. “Arwen, we are not secluded. Anyone could find us.” She pauses, a slight uncertainty written across her features. She presses a questioning kiss to your nose and without a moment’s hesitation, you return it. She lovingly kisses the top of your head and easily slips back into her role.
“Let them.” She growls, giving a hard pull at the last of the lace. Your breasts spill out of your bodice and you gasp, nipples pebbling quickly in the frosty evening. Her eyes are as dark as thunderclouds on the grasslands and her words ring with more truth than they do not.
“Let them look but know that you only belong to me. Let them see how you belong to me. You are mine and no others’.” You stare at her and swallow, mouth dry.
“Perhaps we should go to bed.” She hisses. “My lady wife should only be seen in this state by me and no one else. Let them look from a distance and not the next bush over.”
With this declaration, however, you snap.
“Arwen Elrenniel, I swear by the Valar above that if you do not take me now that I will find someone else to fill me and you will never touch me again!” You snarl, finally at the end of your patience, despite the game being played. Arwen laughs, the sound like bells filling the sky.
“It has been four hours and I will not pass another in this state!” You hiss angrily.
“I have been unkind.” She acknowledges, her voice gentle as it normally is outside of bed-sport. Her thick thigh presses forcefully between your legs, forcing them apart.
It drives you mad and she knows it.
“Arwen, please!” you whine, desperate.
With this, she finally presses down on the phallus you’ve carried inside of you since you dressed for the festival. Since your wife had bent you over your bed’s side and ordered that you didn’t remove it despite the constantly shifting and aching pleasure it caused within you. It had been designed for your body alone, but just under the size and length necessary to bring you to your peak. Without question, it’s her favorite toy to use on you.
You cry out and strain against her arms, breathing hard.
“Poor thing.” She hums and smiles beautifully, the stars shining in her eyes. “Look how wet you are and I’ve not even touched you today.”
You’d glare if you could, but all you feel is relief. You spread your legs wider and arch into her hand, whining. “Please? Please please please, arimelda.”
“Hush, my love,” she sighs against your lips. “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you now would you?”
With that, she dips her head and takes your nipple into her mouth, biting hard at the flesh. Your cry is cut short with her hand on your mouth as her cruel wonderful dexterous fingers press and rub directly against your clit.
You tremble in her arms, the sensations completely overwhelming you and silencing any and all thought in your brain.
You cant your hips against her hand on your sex. You try to close your legs.
You clutch at her arms, trying to drag her away. You press your breast closer to her lips.
Arwen, you gasp through your marriage bond, mouth locked as it is. Arwen, Vanimelda! I’m so another gasp as she bites you again, harder than before, I’m s-so close.
“Is this not what you asked of me, melethril?” She breathes softly, teasingly as she runs her tongue over your smarting flesh. “To finally bring you to climax and end your suffering?”
She slips a finger into you besides the phallus and increases the pace of her thumb. You arch into her arms, hips rocking and head falling back against her shoulder.
“That’s it, arimelda. Come for me. Let the whole of our House hear how you belong to me.”
She catches your lips with hers to swallow your screams as a sharp twist to your swollen nipples has you thrusting wildly against her hand as you come undone, your much delayed orgasm overtaking you and flooding your bond with white-hot, aching pleasure.
Arwen gasps and quickly slips one of her hands to touch herself, rubbing against you as she brings you both to another release, your body stuttering wildly as you clench hard around the toy and soak her wrist, voice lifting in the still air.
You slowly come back to yourself after several, long, moments to find yourself cradled in your wife’s arms and your head pillowed on her breasts. Your mouth is dry and you’re warm in her arms, your clothes having been re-tied in your post-release haze.
Arwen presses a soft kiss to your temple and brushes your hair away from your sweaty face. “Hello, meleth.” She says, voice quiet and silken in your senses. “You did so wonderfully and so beautifully for me. Thank you.”
Warmth floods your veins and you smile tiredly at her. Love you, s’good. Great. Mhm. You mentally send her way as your eyes slowly slip closed against your wishes, exhaustion creeping in your bones.
Her tinkling laugh soothes the aches in your limbs. Sleep, meleth. I’ll get you to bed.
heya! could I possibly request some hcs for armin, levi, mikasa, jean and historia w/ a mommy kink (as in calling reader mommy, not being called mommy)?
NSFW (18+): Armin, Levi, Jean, and Historia + Mommy Kink
Armin Arlert
Armin is so cute when he calls you Mommy. He only does it when he really wants something, when he’s squirming as you stroke him and he desperately wants to fill you. It comes out as a quiet stutter, his face hot.
“What was that?” you ask, grinning. “Say it again.”
“Mommy.” It’s a little louder this time, his lips trembling. He’s so pretty when he’s needy, when his hair falls over his eyes. “I—I need—”
“What do you need, baby?” you purr.
“I—I want your pussy,” he whines. “Please?”
“Oh, baby.” You lean forward to brush the hair out of his eyes, moving to straddle him. “How could I say no?”
Levi Ackerman
Levi’s a brat. Does he love calling you Mommy? Absolutely. But he will take that to his grave. He narrows his eyes at you when you ask him to call you Mommy, trying to fight the faint blush spreading across his face. He bites the inside of his cheek as you trail kisses down his neck, as you palm the bulge growing in his tightening slacks.
“Say it,” you murmur against his skin. “Call me Mommy, Levi.”
Your voice sounds so sweet that he almost gives in, but instead, he scowls, ignoring that bubbling heat in his gut.
“No,” he retorts, tilting his head away from you. A big mistake on his part, because it only gives you easier access to his neck.
He lets you push him onto the bed, unbuckling his belt. He lets you undress him, lets you tease him, but he will not be calling you Mommy.
Even if the thought does make his cock twitch.
You hover above his cock, rubbing the head of his cock between your folds. He sucks in a breath, watching your pussy with glazed eyes.
“Do you want me to put it in?” you ask, grinning at his instant nod. “Then say it.”
Levi growls, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips. He says your name in a warning tone.
“Say it, Levi.”
Levi tilts his head up to the ceiling, avoiding your prying eyes. His face burns from embarrassment, but his cock continues to pulse with excitement. “Mommy.”
You grasp his jaw with your forefinger and thumb, tilting it towards you. “Look at me when you say it.”
“Mommy.”
And oh, the way he calls out Mommy as you ride him into oblivion makes the battle worth it.
Mikasa Ackerman
Mikasa is the perfect girl to have a Mommy kink. She’s so shy about it, yet so eager to please. She struggles to voice when she’s excited, but that just makes her even cuter! She often stews in her own sexual frustration until she can’t take it anymore.
Mikasa often comes up to you at group gatherings, wrapping her arms around you and pressing against your back. She buries her face into the crook of your neck, and you can always tell that she wants something when she does that.
“What is it, Mika?” you tease, your voice low to not draw attention to yourselves.
“I . . . Um . . .” She presses her hot face deeper against your skin, her grasp tightening. “I . . . need you, Mommy.”
“Right now, Mika? With all of these people around?”
She nods.
You grin, turning around to face her. “Alright baby, let’s go find somewhere where Mommy can take care of you.”
Jean Kirschtien
Jean is such a Mommy’s boy. He lives off being “Mommy’s good boy” and just melts when you call yourself Mommy. He’ll cream his pants just from you whispering in his ear, telling him all of the dirty things that Mommy will do to him that night.
Jean would do anything for you as long as you praise him. Run your fingers through his hair as he sucks your clit, squealing how good he makes you feel. He’s done everything from stroking himself in his car to sending nudes at work for you.
“He’s so whipped for you,” Eren says, fisting his cock to the sight of you straddling Jean’s face. Jean lets out a muffled noise of protest between your legs, but you simply grin.
“That’s why he gets to eat Mommy’s pussy while you’re stuck with your hand tonight.” You look down at Jean. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
He lets out a full, open-mouthed moan that vibrates against your core. It tells you all that you need to know.
Historia Reiss
Not only does Historia have a Mommy kink, but she’s also a big fan of roleplay. She’ll absolutely pull out her old high school cheerleader uniform with a skirt that’s too short for her now, purposefully dropping objects in front of you so she can flash you as she picks them up.
Of course, nobody else knows that Historia’s such a minx. Everyone thinks Historia’s the most innocent of the group, and it doesn’t help that she likes to pretend to not understand the groups’ dirty jokes. But you know the truth. You know that Historia’s the most mischievous of your friend group. If anything, the groups’ lack of awareness just makes her even hornier for you.
It’s not uncommon for Historia to come up to you during one of Eren’s parties, leaning over the counter in his kitchen until her breasts are practically in your face. She bats her eyes with an innocent smile. “I hope my friends aren’t bothering you too much, Mommy.”
Her favorite fantasy: you, her youthful stepmom, barely putting up with her mischievous antics while her father is away. It’s a fantasy that you can slip into easily.
“I hope you plan on cleaning up after them,” you retort, glancing from Historia’s chest to her face. Her eyes are already clouded with want. You’d be willing to bet that her legs are pressed together on the other side of that counter, too.
Historia’s grin turns mischievous. “And what if I don’t?”
You take her chin in your hand, feeling her breath hitch. “Then I guess you’ll have to be punished, won’t you?”
Luna spun you around. She spun you over and over and over again til you were feeling dizzy and lightheaded. It felt like you were floating and nothing else mattered.
Hell, that didn’t matter either. You always felt that way when you were with her.
Her long, blonde hair billowed out behind her like a silky cape. The dress she wore followed underneath, contrasting the downright silvery locks with a minty green blur. Her pale, freckled skin shone in the moonlight of the Ravenclaw tower.
It was just you and her. A while back, you all had roommates. The seventh year girls dorm inside of the Ravenclaw tower wasn’t so desolate. It was filled with the liveliness of girls who used to torment you two.
Those girls are dead now. The room isn’t without a somber reminder. But you two try to fill it up with the same breath of life that they did. You try to comfortably live in it and each other’s arms.
It’s hard sometimes, when you two remember the war you went through. But you continue. You continue to live and confide in each other. You’re slowly getting better together and you don’t think you could do it without her.
WARNING: RE4r Ada, college AU, age-gap (Ada is 33 while r is 19), modern AU, student r, r is Wesker's fave student, power imbalance, tension, forbidden attraction, professor/student dynamic, parties, Ada kinda lowkey a stalker lmao, GP Ada because I said so! Allusions to sex, r is on a pill, pet names, strangers to paramours and that's about it, I think.
WORDCOUNT: 3.1k
SYNOPSIS: Under the merciless gaze of Professor Wesker, every student fights to meet impossible expectations—except for you. You’re different. You’re his favorite. But when he vanishes for a month-long seminar, his replacement arrives: Professor Wong. Calculated, enigmatic, and dangerously perceptive, she plays a different kind of game—one of quiet intrigue and unspoken challenges.
not proofread
MEN, MINORS DNI
Wesker is a terrifying professor–he makes his students question why the hell did you even take the course.
He is strict, disciplined, and expects perfection from his students with a "survival of the fittest" mentality. Not to mention, his exams are... intense–making you question how the hell you survived the second semester.
Wesker may be the spawn of the devil, a walking terror of a professor...but you are his favorite student.
The atmosphere is tense as Professor Wesker discusses Forensic Biology. In his typical fashion, he wanders around the lecture room, his cold, piercing voice echoing and cutting through the silence. He is wearing all-black attire: a black turtleneck, overcoat, tapered trousers, and oxfords; hair slid back and neatly styled to perfection, mirroring his flawless appearance.
You furiously take note of his insights as he points his laser at the huge monitor, outlining the key points of his discussion. Your eyes snap from the professor clad in black then back to the screen of your laptop before your name echoes in the lecture room.
Your blood runs cold as your peers turn their heads to look at you as the older man's question rings loud and cold–you stand up.
"A body is discovered with high levels of potassium in the blood. Autopsy reports indicate no sign of trauma. What is the most probable cause of death?"
You gulp, "Considering the high potassium levels and lack of trauma, one likely cause is a lethal injection of potassium chloride, which disrupts the heart's electrical activity and induces cardiac arrest. This method is commonly used in euthanasia and executions, as well as in certain homicides designed to mimic natural heart failure."
The room is silent, a flicker of something–satisfaction, perhaps, crosses Wesker's face but it vanishes just as quickly.
He nods slightly, his voice carrying a rare, measured approval.
"A precise and well-reasoned answer. Potassium chloride induces asystole by overwhelming the heart’s ability to maintain its resting potential. A careless investigator might mistake it for a heart attack—yet you, would not." Wesker then glances at the class.
"Let this serve as a reminder: Science does not reward assumptions. Only those who pursue absolute knowledge will succeed. You may all learn from her example."
He referred to you.
A sense of relief and pride swells in your chest as the tension in the room eases slightly, while the rest of the students take mental notes.
As the class comes to an end, the professor make's an announcement.
"I won't be teaching this class for quite some time." The older man pauses. "I'll be attending a team-teaching seminar in Spain–I'll be leaving you under the care of another instructor, Professor Wong."
"When will she start teaching our class?" You ask, out of curiosity.
"Eager to be rid of me?" He mused, and your cheeks blossomed red as you stammer to defend yourself, but the older man cuts you off.
"Tomorrow, " he interjects. "Professor Wong will start tomorrow. I've already made the necessary arrangements, so she will be informed of my decision." Wesker then stacks his lecture modules and secures them against his side. "I'll see you all again next month." He strides out of the door before pausing just an inch before leaving the room.
"Oh, and a reminder," he peers over his shoulder. "If I hear one complaint from Professor Wong in regards to your behavior–I will automatically grade you zero for Midterms, do you all understand?"
"Yes, professor." The class says in unison, and the man leaves.
Professor Wong is a drop-dead gorgeous woman.
Her complexion is smooth, and unblemished, as if untouched by stress or time. Dark hair, cut in a sleek, asymmetrical bob, frames her face with effortless elegance. When she speaks, her voice is low and deliberate, every word measured, every pause intentional—a professor who does not waste breath on the obvious.
Dressed in a deep wine buttoned top, the sleeves rolled to her elbows, showing off her vintage Cartier timepiece. Tapered black trousers and ankle-length black-heeled boots.
Her eyes survey the classroom as if to scan for imperfections within Wesker's class.
"Good morning, everyone." She greets in a cold yet rich velvet tone, "I'm sure Albert has already informed all of you that I will be teaching in place due to his seminary. I'm Professor Wong, Ada Wong."
She takes out the clicker, and the monitor glares on, her eyes snap in your direction, and you flinch at the harshness of her gaze as she continues, "We'll pick up where Wesker has left off." Before letting her gaze linger and tear from you.
You swallow slowly and open your laptop, shaking off the piercing sensation your new professor left you. Compared to Wesker, in which fear is subordinate to him, Professor Wong's class is a breeze–yet still holds an air of authority and expectation. Laid back yet inquisitive, the short-haired professor can also be unpredicted–she'd introduce information and then ask her students, and she'd expect you to expound and articulate.
In class, she rarely raises her voice. She doesn’t need to. A single look from her is enough to silence even the most restless student. Unlike her colleague, Professor Wesker, who demands perfection with a rigid and merciless grip, Professor Wong lures her students into brilliance, challenging them with cryptic questions and moral dilemmas that have no clear answers.
Several minutes later, the class is dismissed.
As you join your peers amidst the shuffling of steps and excitable chatter–you can't shake off the feeling of being watched; upon reaching the doors to the exit, you finally look back to see the new professor's eyes on you.
She holds your gaze for a moment before her lips quirked to a ghost of a smirk. The sight makes your stomach churn as warmth blossoms on your cheeks before you tear your gaze away from the former, finally exiting the lecture room.
The first thing anyone notices about Professor Wong is her presence—unassuming yet impossible to ignore. She moves through the halls of the Forensic Sciences & Human Behavior Department like a whisper, a striking contrast to her colleagues. Where others command attention with volume, she does so with silence, the soft click of her heels enough to draw every eye in the lecture hall.
Her features are delicate yet sharp, an enigma of contrasts. Dark, almond-shaped eyes—intelligent, assessing, always watching—betray no emotion beyond what she allows. If a student dares to meet her gaze, they are left wondering whether she’s amused or simply studying them, filing away their every microexpression for later use. Dressed always in subtle sophistication, her wardrobe rarely strays from fitted blouses, dark trousers, and, on rare occasions, skirts and heels that somehow make no sound when she walks.
"If a criminal believes their actions are justified, are they truly guilty?" she once asked, leaning casually against her desk. No one spoke for a long moment, and then she simply smiled. "Good. You're starting to think."
She never tells her students they are wrong—only that they haven’t thought hard enough.
And somehow, you'd catch yourself hanging on to every word that she utters–her eyes would flit in your direction, gleaming with... intrigue? Expectation?
Approval?
It was impossible to tell, especially from a woman of her caliber.
Professor Wong sits on the edge of her desk, legs crossed, holding a sleek black pen between her fingers. The dim afternoon light filters through the blinds, casting sharp shadows across the room. She surveys her students with that ever-present, unreadable smirk before her gaze settles on one in particular. You.
Shit
"You," You needn't ask for clarification–the way that her gaze pins you down is enough.
Gulping, you stand from your seat, legs shaking from underneath the table. "Yes, professor?"
She tilts her head slightly as if considering you before speaking in that slow, deliberate tone.
"A suspect is brought in for questioning. There’s no physical evidence tying them to the crime, no witnesses, no confession. But something… feels off. They maintain their innocence flawlessly—no nervous tics, no inconsistencies. Yet you’re certain they’re guilty. Tell me—how do you break them?"
Shit, shit, shit–how the fuck do I answer this?
The silence in the room weighs heavy as your peers' eyes focus on you. The older woman quirks a brow, a warning that time is a luxury you don't have.
Stammering, you answer: "I wouldn't try to catch them in a lie. Instead, I'd make them believe they've already been caught." You pause, "I'd try to articulate their perception, have strategically placed evidence in the interrogation room, fake witness statements, subtly mirror their own body language to create subconscious trust. I’d control the environment, guide the conversation until they feel cornered, until they confess… without ever realizing they were never in danger."
The former's lips twitch to a smirk, and there's a flicker of something behind those composed dark brown eyes–then just as it appears, it's gone.
"Clever," She praises, and warmth pools in your bowels, and a chill crawls down your spine.
The classroom is still as her gaze lingers on you, her lips curving into something that is neither approval nor warning, but something in between. The air shifts. The lesson should move on, but for a moment, it doesn’t.
For a moment, it’s just the two of you, caught in a game no one else realizes has already begun.
And finally, she breaks the air. "That'll be for today, see you all next meeting." Just like that, the moment passes. The class exhales, the spell broken.
You pack your things and join your peers. As you make your way to the exit, you are met with a familiar feeling of being watched–a sensation that tugs you from behind, without thinking, you look back–and your body freezes.
Professor Wong is only a few feet from you–how the hell did she come near you so fast?
And goodness, she's beautiful up close, and is that her perfume you smell? Wood, cherries, vanilla and spices?
"Wesker was right about you," She starts, snapping you from your stupor. "P-pardon?"
A small smile graces your professor's lips, and a bemused expression dances on her elegant countenance. "You're one of his brightest students." A blush spreads on your cheeks, "H-he said that?"
She chuckles lowly, "I'll be watching you." Your professor says it like a casual remark, but you can hear it—something deeper beneath the words. A challenge. A promise.
You stand there, slack-jawed, as she walks past you–giving you the chance to take another whiff of her subtle yet expensive scent.
And just like that–she has successfully lured you into her game.
It was a Thursday afternoon, class had ended, and you wanted to grab a bite.
The problem? By the time you reached the counter with your favorite drink, you're a dollar short.
"Shit," You curse as you fish for extra change in your bag while the lady merely glares at you impatiently.
Then, a familiar voice: "Let me,"
You bristle as you catch the familiar smell of wood, spices, vanilla, and cherries. You quickly snap your head to the side and your jaw slacks as the short-haired professor hands the lady the bill.
"Y-you didn't have to!" You blurt, face red as she takes your drink, examining it–strawberry milk.
"And let you embarrass yourself?" The former muses as she hands you your drink, "I think not."
"Thanks," you murmur and reluctantly take the drink. "I-I'll pay you back."
A strange smile graces the fair woman's lips. "No need for that." She folds her hands behind her back and leans down to whisper in your ear–your body halts function as her warm breath fans against the outer shell of your ear.
"Just perform well in class." Ada purrs before walking past you.
When you finally come to, you realize that she didn't buy anything...
And true to Ada's request–you repay her by performing well in class and each day goes by, a nagging feeling pesters you.
No, you are not attracted to her, right?
With the way that she carries herself with grace and confidence, her small smile, that fucking smirk–and her praises, oh you're in trouble.
A gasp leaves your lips as you feel her back brush against your front as she gets one of the books atop the university library's shelf. "Here," Ada smoothly says as she hands you the book from behind.
"T-thank you," you squeak as you slowly turn around. The older woman has that blasted smirk on her lips; her arms are crossed, and her stature is relaxed. "You always look like a deer in headlights whenever I'm near you." She husks, "It's rather adorable."
The air suddenly becomes charged–with what? You refuse to acknowledge it.
"W-what?"
Oh, you knew what she meant–but your mouth had always been faster than your brain whenever she's near you.
Her expression relaxes, "Tell your peers that I'll be meeting the class 30 minutes late from our schedule–the topic is short after all, got it?"
"Yes, professor." You clear your throat while Ada rewards you with a nod before turning her heels and walking away from you, knowing you won't be able to tear your gaze away from her–she sways her hips.
Oh, you're so in trouble.
EDM music blasts over the speakers, the lights transition from red, violet, blue and green–bodies pressing, grinding and dancing.
You look around in awe at the after-party of your batch. Midterms ended a week ago, and your peers let loose by partying and drinking. It didn't take long for you to join them on the dance floor with booze in your hand.
And minutes into the dance floor, you feel cold hands touch you through the fabric of your clothes–and despite the smell of smoke and mixed perfumes, you can smell it... smell her.
Your breath hitches as her voice fills your ears.
"Relax," Ada husks, "It's me,"
Quickly, you turn around, and she pulls you flush toward her, and holy shit–she looks good. She wore an asymmetrical bodysuit that showed off the skin on her waist, showing off her obliques, straight-cut jeans, and boots; she didn't look like a student nor a woman in her thirties–she matched with the other students.
"P-professor–" The latter cuts you off by placing an index finger against your lips, and you could've sworn hunger gleamed in those dark brown crevices of hers.
"Shh," Ada purrs, "Can't have you spoiling the fun now, don't we?" Ada leans close, "Dance with me, pretty girl." Momentarily, your body forgets you as its owner as you obey the older woman–your skin tingles with each teasing touch that drives you crazy.
Oh, Ada knew how to play you like a fiddle–and it pleases her that you're attuned to her touches as her pants begin to constrict with a tent growing on her jeans. She makes it known by grinding her hips against yours, allowing you to feel her growing need–and Jesus, she's packing.
And that's enough for you to throw all rational thought out of the window as you quickly drag her to the restroom, locking the room without regard for those needing it, Ada can only smirk devilishly as you lose control, almost as if she wanted it to happen. "Why are you doing this?" You demand through batted breath. Ada doesn't reply. Instead, she stalks toward you, the air becomes tense with anticipation; desire charges the air as Ada backs you against the ledge of the sink.
"I think we both know the answer, doll." Ada rasps as her slender, well-manicured hands wrap around your waist, pressing against you, making you feel the clothed cock protesting in her pants. It took a lot for Ada to grind against your clothed pussy.
"You want me just as much as I want you." She murmurs, her lips brushing against the skin of your neck, her perfume engulfing your senses. "You can't deny it."
Your hands automatically latch onto her back, and Ada revels at your touch. "And quite frankly, I'm getting impatient." She admits and presses a kiss against the available surface of your neck. A gasp leaves your lips, and you throw your head back, giving her more access–and Ada is more than eager to indulge as she gently bites your skin.
"T-then take me."
"Very well," Ada grins, "But not here, I prefer to fuck you in the privacy of my room."
And that she did.
When Ada ravages you in her penthouse suite, she leaves no skin unmarked by her lips and teeth. The bed creaks, mixing with groans and throes of passion as you both release your pent-up desires.
Ada's thrusts are deep and punishing, leaving no room for doubt that you're now hers, painting your wall white with her cum as she fucks you into her sheets, leaving you whimpering and begging for more.
The next morning, you are left limping with bites and bruises all over your shoulders, breasts, and thighs while her back is full of your scratch marks.
Ada drove you back to your dorm the next morning, a vile grin danced on your lips as she had to help you out of her Ferrari.
Let's just say that after your night with the professor–you both were insatiable. She'd sent you the filthiest things to your phone ranging from her physique to her cock. Ada would sneak you into her office in the late hours of school time just to fuck you or accompany her while she checks and grades the worksheets of your batch.
Like now, for example. Ada ordered you to bring the worksheets of your section to her office quarter before lunchtime ends.
"Ah, thank you, darling." Your paramour smiles as you place the curated papers atop her desk. "Are you free tonight?" Ada queries.
"Why?" You arch a brow with a playful smile as she circles the table and pulls you to her, "Because I want to have dinner with you." The older woman murmurs before leaning down to your left ear, her voice dropping an octave lower.
"And perhaps, have you for dessert later, at my place?"
A giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her neck, "Sounds perfect," You whisper before pecking her lips.
On cue, her office door swings open, and you instinctively remove yourself from the older woman as–WESKER???
You thought he was coming back to teach the class next week???
"Welcome back, Albert." Ada greets cooly as she fixes her single-lapel blazer. "Ada," He greets as his eyes snap between the two of you, you excuse yourself from the two professors, shutting the door behind you.
The blonde older man turns to Ada with his arms crossed against his chest, looking at her with scrutiny and prejudice. "Of all the people you can be with, you chose my favorite student?"
Ada merely strides to her office chair and sits down, crossing one leg over the other. She leans back slightly, tapping her manicured fingers against the desk as her smirk deepens. Then, with a knowing glance in Wesker’s direction.
