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#i think anyone else might be a toss up
arundolyn · 2 years
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realized i never swapped these two and then it made me realize how funny them fighting is. world's worst bisexual makes dead wife fight angry wolf ex who never married him but they sure act divorced about it
#blazblue#relius clover#ignis clover#detonator: ignis#valkenhayn r hellsing#edits#palettes#bb swaps#i think i MIGHT have actually and just not saved it#its really funny putting relius's colors on ANYONE FUCKING ELSE and realizing oh this man literally dresses like a genuine circus clown#just all the time this man looks like a fucking court jester he looks like he graduated from clown college but just barely#its funny that their fights could like.... theoretically be a toss up also#like yeah yeah valk's getting somewhat weaker as he ages and relius is like the most powerful magic bitch basically ever i guess#but theyre still somewhat equally matched canonically i think????#i guess it heavily depends and isnt really addressed outright in a situation that isnt their arcades or stories in cs#its hard to say for sure without relius having ignis as a leg up cause goddamn valkenhayn is Going to fucking end him#which tbh fully supported valk tries to be normal and not kill but i would also become violent if i just Saw Relius#just anywhere. motherfucker could be like living his life getting groceries and i would divekick him#valk was right about this one tbh the man is rancid the vibes are terrible and the fashion is an atrocity#nobody has ever kicked relius's ass for no reason he always deserves it forever for being world worst everything 100 whatever years running#dad? scientist? husband? Person In General?#you name it and hes terrible at it in some way#extra funny cause i mean he IS a genius and shit but idk the ethics suck
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astralstarlight · 3 months
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walking in on you with your favourite toy !
w/ sukuna and choso (separate)
warnings/tags: implied fem! reader (bc that's how i'm thinking about it in my head rn), suggestive, 18+, no curses AU, in a relationship with choso, it's anyone's business who you are to sukuna (housemates maybe??), definitely not in a relationship with him though and you probably have to deal with him walking around shirtless all the fine and looking fine, the toy is a vibrator
a/n: thinking about them a lot recently
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Sukuna is not amused. This is not his fault.
If you were going to be doing such private things, then you should lock your door.
"I can explain." You say.
Sukuna gives you a once-over. You're extremely calm for someone who's just had a ruined orgasm. The vibrator is still buzzing a little away from where you'd given up on trying to turn it off and just thrown it to the side for hopes of bringing some small sense of decency back onto your naked form. The blanket is haphazardly tossed over your legs.
It barely covers you.
You're wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else on the bottom half. He got a pretty good glimpse in your panic anyways — wet, wanting, twitching... He can't seem to get it out of his mind anymore.
An eerie acceptance settles over your face. It must be the adrenaline, Sukuna deducts.
"Okay." Sukuna says, crossing his arms and pushing the door closed behind him. "Explain."
"Well." And you have the audacity to hesitate on your words still, as though he isn't already wasting his time and attention on you. "You should knock." Pause. "Next time."
Sukuna lets out a barking laugh. "There won't be a next time, brat." He stalks over to you. It's a bit more imposing than you would imagine, especially when his eyes are scanning over your form as though he's already eating you up in his mind. He decides to toss a side-glance to your vibrator in an attempt to embarrass you further, before drawing his attention back to you.
It works, a brief flicker of panic exposing itself on your face as you seem to finally catch up to the situation.
"Just ask. But don't try to be cute about it." Sukuna continues.
"Sukuna?" You ask timidly, still trying to figure out what he's actually proposing.
"I told you not to be cute about it."
That seems to rile you up, and you feel a flash of annoyance run through you. "I'm cute about everything."
You just get to finish your sentence, before he cups your jaw dangerously tight, tilting your face to look up at him. Perhaps you weren't such a quiet and innocent housemate after all. The way your cheeks squish together is kind of cute actually.
He thinks you might look better crying.
A sound between a questioning mumble and a choke leaves your throat. You open your mouth to say something else, but his fingers are already tracing down to your collarbone. He tilts his head slightly as he feels your breath hitch.
"Lie back." Sukuna says, nudging your shoulder a little.
It's a final warning, you realise. A checkpoint in deciding whether you want to continue or not.
You do follow his instructions, jerking slightly as he manages to slide his hand onto you and press down onto your sensitive clit. His hands quickly move to keep your legs open.
He stops moving for a bit and you peek up at him to see what he's doing. The vibrator is in his hand, looking rather small and pathetic.
"We'll see how easily you cum from this, and depending on whether you impress me..." His eyes travel from your lower half up to your eyes. "I'll show you how good it'll feel to take me."
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Choso is polite about it. Every kiss you've shared with him has been soft, sweet even. He's never shown any particular interest in furthering it. It's why you're so oddly embarrassed when he walks in on you with your vibrator pressed against your clit.
"Choso!" You manage to slip the vibrator out of your hands and turn it off, ignoring the urge to pull the blankets over your head.
His face reveals no surprise, nor a blush. A feeling of insecurity runs through you and a stinging starts behind your eyes. Huh.
In the silence, he's staring very intently at your closed legs. He takes a step into the room, still saying nothing.
You jump slightly when he sits beside you on the bed. He's uncertain, bordering on nervous as his fingers twitch slightly.
It's quiet enough that you think you should say something.
"Choso—" You say again, in a softer, more reassuring tone.
He cuts you off. "I'll help."
The matter-of-fact tone makes you blush. You forget how straightforward he usually is.
You shake your head. "It's fine. If you're uncomfortable with it or you're not really sure, you don't need to—"
Choso reaches under the covers from where you've thrown your vibrator. The top of it still glistens with your slick. He takes it out, twisting it in his hand as though to investigate it. He presses the button until it vibrates a bit too loudly.
It's not a setting you usually would have set it on to start with.
"Just tell me what to do." He says.
Good thing there's a lot of different settings for him to play with under your guidance.
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renecdote · 13 days
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rebirth
Bi Buck cured my writers block, please have this short little episode coda for 7x04. [Read on AO3]
It’s after one a.m. when the light, bubbly excitement in his stomach sours, fear creeping in. Buck’s next breath sticks in his chest, his heart races, his fingers start tingling, and it’s so much like what kissing Tommy did to him, but for all the wrong reasons this time. His phone screen is suddenly too bright in the darkness, his search history a towering mess of questions, and Reddit threads, and quizzes he clicked into then out of before he could finish taking them.
The problem, he thinks, is that it felt so right. Tommy tilted his chin up and pressed their lips together and it felt like—himself, for the first time in… forever, maybe. Buck doesn’t know what he’s meant to do with that. Go out on Saturday night, maybe (hopefully) kiss Tommy again (and again and again and again), but then… But then?
He wants to call Eddie because he always wants to call Eddie. He wants to blurt out all the things he kept under his tongue when he apologised earlier. He wants to hear Eddie say his name, soft and warm and knowing, because if anyone can make him feel seen and heard and at home in his own skin, it’s Eddie. He wants so hard it’s almost painful.
But it’s the middle of the night, he can’t call Eddie.
He can’t call Maddie either. She would answer, he knows, and she’d have just the right words for the spiralling anxiety that’s sucking him in, but he’s not going to scare her with the phone ringing in the middle of the night. There have been too many calls like that that have only been bad news.
He won’t worry Hen or Bobby with a call like that either.
And as much as Buck wants to confide in them, wants to crack his chest open and show his family what has been inside the whole time, there’s another part of him that doesn’t want to share. Not yet. He feels like the newborn calves he saw at the ranch in Montana, young and fragile and unsteady as he tries to find his feet. The world suddenly feels bigger. Brighter. And it’s exciting, it’s freeing, but he can’t help feeling daunted, like he might get lost if he’s not careful.
“Bisexual,” he says aloud, just to hear himself say it, to taste the way it feels on his tongue not just as a word but as an identity. It feels like an exhalation, trembling at the edges but not just with fear, or excitement, but with relief. He thinks of that first breath of air when his head came above water in the tsunami, he thinks of being struck by lightning, he thinks of stepping into Station 118 for the first time, he thinks of catching the Jeep keys Maddie tossed him in the dark of a Hershey street all those years ago. Buck knows what it is like to be reborn, but he has never had a kiss make him feel like this before.
Did the first time you kissed a girl feel like this? he wants to ask Hen. Does it feel like this every time?
Is this the magic you were talking about when you first met Shannon? he wants to ask Eddie.
I figured it out, he wants to tell Bobby. I figured out what being at ease with myself feels like.
He has a shift in six and a half hours, but sleep feels as impossible as it did when he first climbed into bed. Buck lifts a hand to trace his lips in his dark, reliving the memory of Tommy there. He imagines Tommy everywhere else too, trailing his hand down his body, fitting Tommy into all the places a few dozen women have touched before. He feels like a teenager, giddy at just the thought of sex—of everything—and he exhales a laugh in the dark.
Buck opens his phone again and sends a text to the one person he knows is on shift and might already be awake: when you said you’d pick me up on Saturday, you meant in the chopper right?
Tommy replies instantly: those things are a bitch to park
And a second later: maybe on the third date
There it is again: breath stuttering, heart racing, fingers tingling. Buck wonders if this is what it feels like to get behind the controls and fly. He grins at his phone. He can’t wait to find out.
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cherienymphe · 3 days
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You Get Me So High
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JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.
You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…
You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.
The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.
The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.
“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.
Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.
That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.
To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.
You knew better though.
“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.
Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.
“How so?” you quietly wondered.
You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.
Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.
The blond sighed.
“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”
“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”
“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”
“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.
JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.
“Don’t,” JJ finally said.
You swiveled your head towards him.
“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”
You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.
You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.
You didn’t tell anyone.
It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.
Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.
Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.
You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.
Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.
…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.
Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.
Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.
…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…
You kissed him.
You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…
JJ pretended like nothing had happened.
That was how it always went ever since.
Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.
You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.
So, you understood it.
What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.
Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.
“Are you crazy?”
That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.
He didn’t look happy.
“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”
You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.
“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.
His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.
“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”
You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?
JJ was a selfish asshole.
You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.
“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”
They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.
Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.
It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.
You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.
“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”
He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.
“I’m not here for that…”
“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”
“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”
“Y/N.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”
JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.
“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”
“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”
You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.
“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”
JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.
“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”
You glanced away, frowning.
“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”
“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”
“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”
He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.
“We can’t be anything.”
It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.
“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”
You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.
“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”
He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You got close to him, tone haughty.
“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”
You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.
“How is that fair?” you muttered.
He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.
You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.
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You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.
Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.
Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.
You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.
So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.
…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.
Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.
When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”
You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.
You hissed, struggling to speak.
“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”
You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.
Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.
Your other hand twisted into his hair.
He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.
You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.
Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.
That was how it always went.
Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.
You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.
“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”
Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.
You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.
When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.
“I know you,” a voice said after some time.
Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.
“You’re JJ’s sister.”
Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.
“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.
You found that you liked it.
“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.
“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”
You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.
“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”
His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.
You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.
All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.
Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.
Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.
…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?
You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.
“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”
His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.
“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.
He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.
“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”
His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”
You looked away, clearing your throat.
“…and I think you watch too much porn.”
When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.
“Maybe…”
You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.
You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.
Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.
…and JJ knew this.
Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.
You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.
“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.
You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.
There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.
When the door swung open, you were only startled.
It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.
It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.
Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.
Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.
So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.
Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.
The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.
She cursed.
“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”
Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.
Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.
Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.
The silence was loud.
“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”
Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.
“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?”
You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.
“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”
JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.
She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.
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JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.
John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.
You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.
“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.
“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”
Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.
“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”
You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.
“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”
Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.
“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.
“Well, try harder!”
Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.
“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”
You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.
“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”
JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.
“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”
You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.
“You were going to have sex with him?”
You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.
“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”
JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.
“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”
You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.
“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”
He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.
“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”
You shook your head at him.
“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”
“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”
His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.
“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”
He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.
“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”
You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.
“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”
“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”
JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.
“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”
JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.
If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.
“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”
He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.
“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”
Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.
“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”
His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.
He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.
Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.
With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.
You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.
“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”
Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.
“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”
Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.
The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.
“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”
Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.
Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.
“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.
You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.
“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.
As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.
“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.
When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.
“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.
There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.
“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”
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sukunasweetheart · 1 year
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sukuna is that one boy in class that will do anything to annoy u bc he doesnt know any other way of showing his affection
he loves to see you jumping up and down as he holds something above your head, a nasty smirk showing on his face
aims to get you eliminated first in any game played during p.e (yeah, no mercy for those legs of yours when its dodgeball)
or if you end up in the same team as him he’d use you as a shield for any incoming attacks from the opposite team (even tho we all know this bitch can dodge like a pro)
its so cute how he gets himself eliminated on purpose afterwards tho, so he can sit beside you and annoy you more.
messes up your hair whenever hes walking past... so now you have a habit of instinctively covering your head with your hands whenever hes walking by and it makes him and uraume chuckle...
would be the first to howl with laughter, clutching at his stomach, whenever you make a fool of yourself. you tried to kick a soccer ball, but missed the ball entirely and your shoe went flying instead. and then you had to chase after him bc he snatched it up and went running 💀
if youre a jumpy person, he’d take any chance to scare the living lights out of you. he loves seeing you get all freaked out, screeching (100% chases you around holding a roach)
but sukuna makes it very clear that he is the only one thats allowed to toss you around like this, he would kick the next person that tried to the same
if anyone else told you that hes usually stoic and moody you go 🤨 bc this man is so lively around you
sukuna is so BORED when youre not around, it drives him insane
he’d probably mellow out more as he gets closer to you but still, the teasing is relentless as always
if there is a day where he’s upset you fr bc, idk you were already in a bad mood or something, he would most likely not know how to cheer you up... maybe he’d leave u a drink from the vending machine on ur desk. what’s your go-to drink? strawberry or chocolate milk? pocari sweat? apple or orange juice? (hes around you often, so he prolly knows what you get the most from the machine)
you know that this is the closest thing to an apology that you can get from him so you accept it anyway
at some point, sukuna will assume that you’re already aware of his feelings for you. he gives you so much attention, surely you know by now, right? wrong. youre absolutely clueless, and when he brings it up one day, you just sit there like, what??
“are you playing dumb, or are you fuckin’ stupid?”
you get all defensive and the two of you start bickering.
“enough of that. well, now you know,” he nonchalantly tells you.
youre so confused bc youve never thought of him in that way and you tell him that youll have a think about it... to which he clicks his tongue in annoyance and says “fine”
he keeps pestering you for an answer after that! you keep running away from him. (its like youre triggering his hunting instincts, making him chase you around)
his usual teasing ensues but something feels different... you feel more flustered and your heart races more than it used to... (he notices it all)
when you eventually give him an answer and say “i like you too...” he will respond with “yeah, i thought so.”
watch out bc sukuna is the type to move things fast. blink once and you might already be married to him.
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 months
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The Night has Just Begun
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➪the one where you and hayden make a sex tape.
Warnings: sex tape obvi, smut, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (m receiving), swearing, think that might be it..
Word Count: 3.2k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The way Hayden looks with short hair never fails to drive you crazy. 
He had just finished filming Vanishing on 7th Street, and you would’ve been upset about his character’s end in that movie if he didn’t look so damn good in it. He had cut his hair short for this movie, and he got to act like a dick for most of it, and the contrast of that to his usual kind and friendly behavior had you going a bit feral. 
In celebration of the film being completed, he suggested a night at a nice hotel before going back to your house and settling back down after the chaos that occurs on set during the process of making a movie. You agreed, of course, then presented the idea of perhaps filming some behind the scenes stuff at the hotel, and he was all on board. 
Hayden was sitting at the bottom of the bed when you entered the room, and you looked to the right to see the camera and smirked a bit as you closed and locked the door behind you. 
His jacket was tossed onto the chair in the corner of the room, leaving him in just a white tee and jeans, and the simple yet extremely attractive outfit had you biting down on your lip as you paused a few feet away from him. 
You knew you were in frame now, and Hayden knew it, too, as he gave you a small smirk and beckoned you over to him, “Come here,” he softly demanded, but you just stood still with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you began to shrug off your jacket. “Come here, baby.” He tried again, and you gave in.
Walking over to him, you were a few feet away when he wrapped one hand around the back of your thigh as his other one gently grabbed your wrist and halted your action of ridding yourself of your jacket. 
“That’s my job,” he murmured as he pulled you to stand in between his legs and dropped your wrist in order to push the fabric from your shoulders. 
Heat takes over your entire body as you slide your hands up his arms as his slide down the backs of your thighs. “Oh, right,” you say as he leans down to begin placing kisses down the front of your shirt. “I was getting ahead of myself.”
Hayden hummed as he grinned up at you before sliding his hands further down to press against the backs of your knees, making you fall forward a bit. You settle on his lap as a blush takes over your face, and you hide your head in the crevice of his neck. “What?” He laughed quietly. “Why are you hiding?”
You huff and lift your head again, glancing off to the right and looking into the camera lens before returning your gaze to him. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” You confessed, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you shifted on top of him. “I’m nervous.”
“It’s okay,” Hayden nodded in understanding as he leaned in and placed an open mouthed kiss to the base of your throat before looking at the camera as well. “Me too.”
He sure as fuck didn’t look nervous to do this. He looked ready, prepared to get you off in all the ways he’s done before, but this time on film. 
“We don’t have to,” he said quietly. “I can turn it off-”
“I want to do this,” you mumble and bite down on your lip. “But what if someone sees it?”
Hayden smirked a bit, “Well, then they’re in for quite the show,” he teased then softened his gaze as he grabbed your hips. “I promise, no one other than you and I will see it. It’s just for us. It’s just us.”
That was really all the reassurance you needed to forget about the camera and instead focus on the achingly beautiful man beneath you. “Just us,” you say back and close your eyes as he leaned in and kissed along your neck. 
His hands grip your waist tightly as he moves your body so you’re straddling his right thigh. “Just us. I’m not letting anyone else see you like this,” he promised. “It’s all for me. Now ride my thigh.”
Your eyes open at that, and you nearly moan at the look he was giving you. “Okay,” you easily give in as you slowly start to rub your core against his thigh. You actually moan as he bends his leg more and gives you a firmer surface to grind on. “Hayden.”
His hands help guide your movements, and you slowly build up the pace as your fingers tangle in the hair on the back of his neck. “Does it feel good?” He asked, but you both knew he was well aware of the answer to that question. 
Still, you’d always give in to him. “Yes,” you whimpered as he took full control of the way your body moved on top of his. The fabric of his jeans was rough and created the perfect feeling against your core, making you whimper softly. “It feels so good, Hayden.”
He smiled lovingly up at you, still finding the dirtiest act romantic and intimate in the best way possible. Hayden leaned in and pressed his mouth to your neck and shoulders, kissing and sucking on your soft skin as you worked yourself against his thigh. 
“More,” you feebly whined as you helplessly clenched around nothing. “I need more, Hayden.”
He hushed you with his mouth, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss. “I know,” he rasped, kissing his way up your jaw until he found the skin under your ear. “I know, baby, you’ll get more. We’ve only just started, you’re going to get so much more after you get yourself off on me.”
His words were filthy and only for you as he kept this side of himself very well hidden to everyone else. You weren’t even registering the camera capturing your sinful actions as you rubbed yourself harder against him, your hands grasping for anything to hold onto as he guided your movements. 
The stimulation on your clit was making your eyesight blur slightly, and your release was creeping closer and closer with each drag of your hips. Hayden never failed to get you off easily the first time around, when the night was just beginning, and it really didn’t take much. 
Just the fact that the man who is gripping your body so tightly right now and working you into a whiney mess for him is all yours was enough to have your body jerking as you come on his thigh and bury your face against his neck. 
Hayden releases your hips in order to let you ride out your high in much slower movements, and when you lift your head again with a lazy smile painted on your lips, he was powerless to stop his own from forming. “Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded and pressed a final, deep kiss to his lips before getting up and grabbing the camera with shaky hands. 
“My turn,” you grin as you hand it to him and sink to your knees between his legs. You run your hands up his thighs before popping open the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. Hayden lifted his hips and allowed you to push the fabric down his legs before sitting back down and pointing the camera at you. 
Despite your current position on your knees in front of him, you give him a shy smile then kiss him through his tight boxer briefs. His breath hitched in his throat as you licked a damp spot along his length before tugging that material down, too, and tossing it aside without a care. 
Then you were taking him into your mouth and sucking him expertly. You started off slowly, then increased the pace with each bob of your head, and suddenly Hayden was having a very hard time keeping the camera still, despite him holding one countless times now. 
This was probably the dirtiest thing he had ever done. He liked to have you all to himself like this, and while he loved to show you off at premieres or date nights, this was completely new to him. 
While he’s been on camera for all of his career, you hadn’t, so to see you right now through the LCD screen felt surreal and filthy and unlike anything he’s ever felt. “Look at you,” he grunted as you took him deeper than before and encouraged him to grab your hair with his free hand. “You look so pretty like this.”
You blush and use one of your hands to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand tightly grips his thigh as a form of stability as you let his girth destroy the back of your throat. 
Hayden cursed under his breath as he adjusted the camera and leaned back. “You should’ve been an actress, baby,” he mumbled as his hand pulled on your hair and made your head lift a bit to show off his spit covered dick. “The camera loves you.”
You blush more and roll your eyes as you remove him from your mouth and stroke him quickly. “Not nearly as much as it loves you,” you mutter and poke your tongue out to lick his throbbing tip.
He moaned and released your hair so he could softly caress your jaw. “I don’t know, sweet girl,” he grunted. “You’re looking pretty good from my perspective.”
You smile and kiss up the side of his length. “You’re only saying that because you want me to be in a movie with you,”
That was true. He’d been begging you for years now to play a part in one of the movies he and his brother worked on, but you always give him the same response of ‘the camera not being your friend and making you look terrible’ which was total bullshit since he is seeing how perfect you look on camera right now. 
“This is definitely not helping with that. If only you could see how fucking pretty you look right now,” he groaned as you swiped your thumb along his tip. You repeated that action with every stroke of your hand, and sped up the pace when you saw his hips jerk. “I’m gonna come.” He warned and gently stilled your movements by wrapping his hand around your wrist. 
“Good, I want you to,” you say and move your face closer to his wet and pulsing cock. “On my tongue.”
That sounded nothing short of amazing, but he is really worked up at the moment and wasn’t sure how long he would last later if he were to come right now. “But I want to come in you,”
You whine as he pulls you to stand up and away from his spit coated dick. Leaning down, you kiss him deeply as his hand runs up your back, taking your shirt with him before pulling your body closer to his. Straddling his lap again, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as  he holds you against his chest and sets the camera aside in order to flip you over so you’re on your back. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lean your head back as he peppers kisses all along your neck and shoulders before tugging your shirt off and dropping it onto the floor beside the bed. He then snaked his hands behind you and fumbled around with the clasp of your bra, and you looked over to see that the lens was pointed at you. Before you could grab it, Hayden tore the lacy fabric away from your body and picked up the camera. 
You blush deeply as you were almost completely exposed on film now, but you didn’t have time to feel self conscious as Hayden grunts, “Look how pretty you are,” it was more to himself, but since it was just the two of you in the quiet room, you heard him clear as day. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 
“Hayden,” you whimper softly and reach over to trail your hand up his bare thigh. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”
He smirks at you as he sets the camera down further up the bed so both you and him are in frame. “I will,” he promised as he kissed down your bare chest before he reached the top of your leggings. He pulled them down, as well as your panties, as he added, “Just had to compliment my girl first.”
You blush even more as he tugs his shirt off and drops it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor.  “Such a gentleman,” you say back then moan when he leaned down to kiss your neck as he ran his tip along your folds.  “Oh, God, I need you.”
He grinned at you before sinking into your warm and inviting core. Your previous orgasm made it very easy for him to bottom out completely after just two thrusts, and the relieved moans that left both yours and Hayden’s mouths sounded like something straight out of a porno. They kind of were, given the current circumstances. 
Your body was on fire and your whines got louder with each drag of his hips, you could barely think straight as you reached behind you to grab the camera with numb fingers. To have such a private and intimate moment be filmed felt dirty and sinful, but it also felt exciting and hot and you both knew that no one else would ever see it, so why hold back?
Not used to holding a camera, and definitely not used to filming something while being railed, you weren’t sure how well you were capturing the whole scene. You could barely see through the LCD screen as you pointed it downwards and filmed his slick-covered cock as it disappeared inside of you. 
Then you angle it upwards and capture just how beautiful Hayden looked like this. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open as deep groans left his lips, and when he glanced up and saw that you were filming him, he gave the camera a smug smile that nearly had you dropping it. “Fuck,” you whimper as you wrap your legs tightly around his waist and kept the camera on his face. “You’re so hot, Hayden, fuck, you can’t look at me like that.”
He laughed, and it sounded more deep than usual, and that really did not help your case as it had you clenching tightly around him. Hayden could barely pull out as you were impossibly tight, but it just made the pleasure you were both feeling intensify. 
“I always look at you like this,” he managed to mutter, and you just shake your head as you reach up with your free hand and grab onto his hair.
Each thrust had your body inching further up the bed, and you had to tighten your hold on him to keep his body connected to yours. “Tell me you’re mine,” you requested in a breathless tone. 
Hayden was fucking you so hard, you barely had any control over your words right now. It was clear that he was also losing himself in you as he lifted his head and smirked down at you. “You feeling possessive, baby?” He teased. “Do you really think someone else will get to see me like this? Get to have me like this?” 
His words send heat waves through you, and you arch your back as you set the camera aside in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No,” you answer in a whisper. “No, but I want to hear you say that you’re mine…all mine.”
The camera was still capturing everything as Hayden pressed a searing kiss to your lips and braced himself on his elbows at either side of your head. “I’m yours, baby,” he promised, kissing you again afterwards. “All fucking yours.”
You moan loudly as he pulls away and sits back on his knees. He grabs the camera and resumes fucking into you, but this time he’s the one filming it. One hand grips your hip as the other holds the camera above your body, and his point of view allowed nearly the entire thing to be captured. 
You were so worked up, you weren’t even paying attention to it as you stared down at where you connected. “Fuck,” you whimpered when the thumb of the hand that was on your waist moved to rub harsh circles onto your swollen and throbbing clit. “I’m going to come again.” 
Hayden hummed as he kept the camera focused on himself sliding in and out of you while he looked above it, his dark eyes narrowed at your fucked out expression. “I want you to,”
You shake your head, “I don’t want to yet,” you whine, making him laugh quietly. “I don’t want this to be over yet.”
Hayden tilts the camera up towards your face. “It’s okay, pretty girl,” he cooed, holding off his own release. He’s shamelessly been close since the second you started going down on him, so he wasn’t going to last much longer either. “We can make another one. Fuck...we can make as many videos as you want, but right now I need you to come for me.”
You moan softly then arch your back as your second orgasm washes over you and makes you see black spots for a few seconds. You blindly reach for his hand and tangle your fingers with his as he fucks you through your high, and the extra warmth and wetness triggers his own. Deep grunts left his mouth as he slowly fucked you through his own high, knowing how sensitive you had to be at this point and not wanting to overstimulate you too much.
He had to grip onto the camera tightly so he didn’t drop it, and he focused back down at your dripping core as he slowly pulled out. You were shaking as he gently pulled his hand from yours and fucked his release back into you with his fingers, quiet groans escaping his throat at the way your walls eagerly took his seed. 
Tossing the camera aside, Hayden leans back down and hovers over you again as he presses kiss after kiss to your puffy lips, and you moan softly as you wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured and trailed kisses all over your face. 
You laugh and glance over at the still rolling camera with tired eyes. “I can’t wait to watch that as our foreplay for next time,”
Hayden hummed in disapproval as he shook his head and turned it off, setting it on the nightstand afterwards and pulling you into his arms. “I can’t do that, I’ll come before I even get to touch you,” he said and you could tell he was serious, even with the hint of humor in his voice. 
“Okay, maybe we’ll just watch me riding your thigh and me sucking you off before acting out the good stuff that comes after it,” you offer and he nods with a lazy smile on his lips. 
“I love you,” he mumbles and guides your bodies further up the bed so you’re laying on the pillows. 
“I love you, too,” you say back as you rest your head against his sweaty chest, a flicker of excitement in your eyes as you glance over at the camera. This definitely wouldn’t be the only video you and he make together.
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hearts4chriss · 2 months
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Princess.
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bad boy! Chris x nerd! Poc reader
prompt: Chris notices you, just a regular girl, pretty nerd, focused on her studies and nothing else, Chris has this attraction to you, his goal is to get ur attention and absolutely destroy you and ur innocence all together, a school project just might be his trick
inspired by: @luv4kozume my mama and talented queen go read her shit now
Part 7
warnings: reader is on BC!! overstimulation, rough sex ( p in v ), degrading, hair pulling, use of pet names ( good girl, sweetheart, baby ), ass slapping, teasing, manipulation ??, aftercare tho!!
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“Fucking hell” I say to myself, I had a project with the nerd. Now ur probably like “Chris she’s just a nerd come on” She’s not ur regular nerd, she’s just innocent as shit, never had sex, never received head or pleasure from anyone focussed on her studies but I’ve heard her talk to her friends, she’s got a dirty mouth one i'd love to put to good use.
the second we got assigned partners for a chemistry project a smirk curved across my lips. I see her turn back to me and give me an innocent welcoming smile. fuck that was enough to make cum in my pants. the way her clear glasses sit on her cute little nose, her plump lips with a layer of gloss on them. and damn that uniform on her.
the way her skirt rides up when she sits down allowing me to get a good look at her ass, I see her light purple panties from here just a bit. Nobody else was looking at her, more focused on the basic ass bitches whose asses were purposely exposed. whores.
Fuck I couldn't take my eyes off her, the way she pulled her skirt down in the back, she could bare the fact the school's skirts were so short her ass was poking out. Her stockings climb up her thighs and her dress shoes dangle off her feet, the blazer fits perfectly around her skirt, and the white button-up shirt school rules top two buttons for all girls must be undone, Fuck- her tits sat so perfectly in it,
And then shit don't get me started on the tie. I've always pictured me putting mine around her pulling it as I fucked her. She was so damn innocent, the way she'd look back every now and then to see me because we were partners and give me that same smile innocent smile, as I was thinking about ruining her pussy. The only thing stopping me was the fact we were in class, but shit- I swear when I have her alone I was gonna fuck her so good, ruin her innocence entirely.
Eventually class was over and so was school, which meant It was about to just us.
Your Pov now
I got up from my seat and made my way out of class to wait for chris, I readjust my glasses and apply some more lip gloss.
The boy walks out and I give him a small smile and he gives me a smirk looking down at me and biting his lip, I just shrug it off and he opens his car door for me and we start driving back to his house
"Are you excited about our project Chris?" I asked him softly trying to kill the silence
Fuck her voice, it was so soft and sweet. just imaging her moaning was even better, I let out a soft groan feeling my dick press against my pants before I respond to her.
“Oh yeah for sure I cant wait.” to fuck ur brains out till you can't take it anymore.
We arrived at his house and we walked inside and his parents weren't home so he offered to work in his room and I nodded and we walked. upstairs into it and sat on his bed.
I smiled and took my computer out and laid on my stomach and began to start a slide show.
Fuck- does she know what she's doing? I felt my dick get even harder a small wet spot appearing on my pants.
I sat and watched this hot nerd on my bed and realized.
We were not gonna get anything done tonight.
I began to un do my belt and slip my pants and boxers down, I tossed my blazer on the floor and my shirt and tie approaching her.
I slowly lifted up her skirt and pull her light purple panties down staring at her bare ass, she had no idea. Fuck the surprise she was in for.
I press my dick against her sliding into her as she let out a moan fuck she was so tight.
“Chris- wh- o-oh god”- she moaned, it rang in my ears.
“is this okay?” I asked, I wanted to make sure she was okay with what I was about to do to her.
“mmph- y-yes- she stutters” I could hear her struggling it was pretty cute.
I took her skirt off and blazer allowing me to grip her hips and thrust in her quickly, her moans growing louder as I moved her computer to my nightstand.
“Ur pussy's so tight baby fuck-“ I groan as her wetness coated my dick allowing me to start pounding into her, her moans got louder as she moans my name and fuck did it turn me.
“Fuck c'mere-“I say impatiently arching her back and pushing her face into the pillow before pounding into her again.
“C-chris o-oh god-“ she cries out gripping my sheets as I saw her glasses fogging up from her heavy breathing, I knew this was probably a lot for her but I was dying to fuck her.
My hips snapping with hers sounded euphoric as she cried out my name, I did what she least expected.
I pulled her hair and thrusted into her harshly my hips snapped harshly on her ass and she squealed at the sudden roughness.
“Oh God- I-chris-“ She cries out and I decide to opt for slower and deep thrusts knocking the wind out of her lunges.
“Not so innocent now are you sweetheart.” I said with a smirk getting impatient at the pace so I shoved her face into the pillow starting to pound in her again the moans and heavy breathing of this innocent girl grew louder again.
“Shit shit shit-“ curses leave her mouth and I chuckle darkly
“hm, you've got a dirty mouth, don't you?” I whisper into her ear and she moans in response, she sounds so beautiful like this.
she fits so snug around me. I felt her squeeze tightly around my dick and I groan in response at how quickly I was about to make her cum and me as well as I twitch inside her.
“You on the pill baby?” I asked her and she nodded and I pull her hair roughly
“Use ur words princess.” I say still pounding into her.
“I-I-am- f-fuck-“ she stutters out and moans my lips curling into a playful smile.
“Good girl, you can cum now.l I say as I harshly snap my hips feeling her cum on my cock and I release inside of her.
I pulled out watching our cum drip out of her pussy thats when I realized, I was nowhere near finished with her.
“On ur stomach for me?” i asked her and she immediately complied.
I unbottoned her shirt leaving her tie on seeing her fully naked wearing just a tie makes my dick perk up again.
I slap my tip on her folds and she whimpered.
I spread her legs pushing them against her chest and slip inside her easily and she cries out at me pounding into her with force rocking her small body on the bed.
watched her stomach seeing my bulge and I chuckled seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her glasses start slipping from her face.
“Ugh F-fuck- my glasses-“ she cries out as they started falling off onto her body from how hard I was fucking her.
“fuck- push em up for me yeah?” I sighed deeply and she reached a shaken hand pushing the frames back on her face.
She looks so hot like this, all fucked out on my bed for me and she has no idea this was only the beginning
“C-Chris ngh- I-c-can’t-“ she stutters as I watch the tears form in her eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was giving her, the way her tits were pressed up against her body as I held her legs up easily slipping in and out of her wet pussy.
“come on baby, your taking me so well- shit-“ I grunted angling my hips to come in contact with hers more quickly and harshly and hearing her whimpers was so fucking hot.
I attach my thumb to her clit rubbing it in circles and she squealed at the sudden contact from her sensitivity.
“Shit Chris- I-t-the project!” She screams out my name and I smirk at her innocence, I had never thought about the damn project.
“oh princess you really think that’s what I care about?” I say snapping my hips with hers once more pounding her pretty pussy and she curses my name.
“I’ve only been thinking about fucking that pretty ass of yours for days, shit you and that skirt-“ I chuckle drawing figure 8s on her swollen clit and her thighs tremble in my hands.
“Fuck- mphm oh g-god-“ she cries out, her body trembling in my hands her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, her cute classes now discarded.
“Hm? What was that sweetheart?” I smirk pulling her tie making her gulp and her eyes widen as I pull it and thrust into her roughly, the sounds of my hips and her thighs slapping fuck- I could’ve cum right there.
“CHRIS- p-please-“ she stutters gripping the sheets and my finger tips needing her plush thighs as she begs for an orgasm.
“You need to cum?” I say leaning over in her ear.
“Y-yes god-“ she whimpers arching her back.
I decided I would let her cum under one condition.
“princess I’m the only one who’s aloud to fuck you from now on got it?” I say placing my tongue around her nipple sucking softly and she groans.
“Y-yes I-i got it-“ she cries out and I rocked her body harder rubbing her clit and she tightens around me before beginning to squirt, she didn’t stop.
“Fuck you just squirted all over me-“ I chuckle slowing my thrusts.
“Mmph- I’m sorry- I-“ she stutters and I shake my head and chuckle.
“It’s okay honey I’ll take care of you”. I smile and pull out of her smirking seeing proudly at the mess I made of this girl, her thighs shake a bit, our cum dripping out of her and the wet patch on my sheets from her squirting just now. Her face a little teary and fuck she looked so hot all fucked out for me.
I picked up her body and ran her a bath and sat her on the counter for a second
“Spread ur legs for me mama.” I ask her calmly and she does so and I take a warm cloth and rub slowly between her legs and she winces.
“S-sensitive”- she whimpers and I stop and place her in the warm water
“Sorry.” I smile putting her braids in a bun and she sighs in the water.
“thank you for taking care me-“ she sighs smiling at me innocently.
the rest of the night consists of me making sure she was okay
Oh and the project? She, yes ms nerdy herself, asked for an extension
tag list !
@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexoslurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris
@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @iiheartstef @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @junnniiieee07 @st7rnioioss
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ezdotjpg · 2 months
Note
do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD
OH BOY DO I
In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD
You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.
There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol
It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol
This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.
I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.
these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF
I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.
Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!
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I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol
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I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D
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fatecantstopme · 2 months
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What I'd Give
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.
Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.
You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.
You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.
"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."
You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.
The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.
Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.
Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.
You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.
"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."
You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.
You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.
"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."
"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.
"In the flesh!"
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."
"Did you come here to gloat?"
"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."
"Then why did you come?"
"To save him, obviously."
Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"
Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."
"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"
"Nothing too extravagant."
"Lucifer..." you growled.
"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."
"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."
Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."
Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.
"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."
You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.
"No," you said firmly.
"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."
You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.
"Save him first," you whispered.
Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."
You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."
"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."
You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.
"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.
Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.
It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.
To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.
Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.
"What happened?" he groaned.
"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.
Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."
You nodded.
"How am I not dead?"
You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."
Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"
Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.
"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.
"The one and only," he replied.
"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"
"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."
"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.
"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.
You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.
"Everything," he teased darkly.
"Fuck."
"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.
"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."
Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.
Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."
"Get out of her and I won't have to."
"Oh please, you won't kill her."
Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.
"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."
You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"
"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."
"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."
Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.
"So why did you heal me?"
"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.
"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"
"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."
"Convinced?"
"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."
"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.
"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"
"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"
"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."
"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"
"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."
Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.
"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.
"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."
"Well that's boring--"
"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."
Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.
"He's mad at you, isn't he?"
"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"How you feel about him?"
"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.
"But I'm so bored," he whined.
"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"
"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."
"Shit--no!"
You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.
**********
"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.
Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.
"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.
Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"
"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.
"Sure. Come on in."
Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.
"You alright, (Y/N)?"
"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.
Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.
Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."
Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."
"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."
"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"
Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.
"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."
"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.
"Seriously, Lucifer?"
"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."
"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.
"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.
"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."
Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.
"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.
"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.
Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.
"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.
"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.
Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"
"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.
"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.
"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"
You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."
"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.
Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.
"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."
**********
You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.
Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.
"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.
"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"
"You're really no fun, you know that?"
"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."
"I can make it fun."
"I'd really rather you not."
"Too late!" he said gleefully.
You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.
Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.
"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.
"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.
"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."
You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.
Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."
"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."
"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."
"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."
"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"
"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."
"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.
"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."
"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.
"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"
"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.
He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.
"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"
Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"
You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.
"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."
You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.
"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.
"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.
"No. I'm simply having too much fun."
Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.
"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."
Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.
"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.
"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.
Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.
You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.
"You're a monster," you whispered.
"They call me the devil for a reason.'"
You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.
He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.
"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."
Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."
If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.
"Why?" you whispered.
"Why what?"
"Why'd you say that to him?"
Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."
"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.
"Where's the fun in that?"
You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.
"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.
"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.
Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.
Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.
If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.
You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.
"Please," you whispered.
"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."
"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."
"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."
"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.
Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.
**********
"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.
Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.
"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"
"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."
"Did you call Sam?"
Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."
"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."
"Where are you going?"
"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"
"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."
You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.
As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"
"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"
"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.
Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."
Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"
"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."
Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.
"I second Bobby's comment."
"I wear it like a badge of honor."
You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.
**********
Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.
Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.
Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.
"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.
"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."
"I'll be fine."
Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.
As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.
"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."
Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"
"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.
The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.
Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.
By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.
**********
By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.
"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.
"I slept for 12 hours?"
"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."
"Great," you whispered sarcastically.
"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"
"Of course."
Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.
Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.
"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.
"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.
"Thank god..."
"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."
"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."
"What if I don't want to say yes?"
Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.
The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.
Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."
"So I have a choice?"
Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."
The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.
"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."
You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.
"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.
"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.
Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."
The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"
Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.
"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."
"Will she be okay if I say yes?"
"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.
The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.
"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."
You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.
"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.
"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."
The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"
"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.
"Yes."
A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.
"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.
Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.
"Heal her," Dean demanded.
Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."
"Excuse me?"
"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."
"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"
"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"
Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.
**********
Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.
Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.
"How is she?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."
"She's strong, Dean."
"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.
Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.
"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.
Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.
"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"
Both men nodded.
"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.
They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.
"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.
"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."
"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."
"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."
"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.
Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."
"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"
Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.
"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.
Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."
He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."
Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.
***********
Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.
He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.
He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.
"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.
He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.
"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.
He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.
"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."
"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."
She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."
Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"
"You prayed for help. I answered."
"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"
Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."
Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"
"Nothing. This is my gift to you."
"Nothing is free."
"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."
Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."
She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."
Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.
"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.
The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."
"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.
When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.
"Sam," Dean said softly.
Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"
"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."
Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"
Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."
"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"
"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."
Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.
After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."
You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.
"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.
"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.
Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.
"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.
You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.
"I have to go," Dean muttered.
"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.
"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.
"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."
Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.
Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."
"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"
"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."
Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."
"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."
"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."
You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.
"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."
"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.
Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.
"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.
*********
When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.
Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.
"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.
"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.
You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."
"What kind of things?"
"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.
"(Y/N), just tell me."
"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."
Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"
"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."
"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."
You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."
Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"
"I have to hope he went home."
"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.
You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.
**********
When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.
Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.
The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.
"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.
"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.
You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.
Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."
"Sam," he said curtly.
"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"
"I just needed to get out of there."
"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.
"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."
Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."
"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."
"Why the hell are you leaving?"
"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.
"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's fine, Sam. I know."
"There's nothing to know!"
Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."
"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"
Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.
"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."
"I don't want to talk to her."
"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.
Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.
"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.
"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.
He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.
You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.
"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."
"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.
"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."
"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"
"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"
Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.
"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."
Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.
"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."
His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.
You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."
Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."
"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."
Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.
"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.
He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."
"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."
"(Y/N)," he whispered.
You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.
You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.
When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."
You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."
He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.
"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.
"Please," you moaned softly.
“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.
You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.
You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.
You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.
“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.
You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.
“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.
“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.
You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.
He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.
“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.
The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”
“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.
The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.
You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.
“Impatient, are we?”
You nodded quickly.
“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”
“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”
His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”
You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.
You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.
“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.
Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.
You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.
You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.
His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.
“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.
Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.
“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.
“Hmm?”
“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”
“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.
He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.
“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”
The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.
Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.
“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.
His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.
Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.
Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.
“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”
He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.
“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.
Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.
He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.
One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.
“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”
“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”
You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”
"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.
His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.
You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.
He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.
As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.
Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."
You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.
Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.
Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.
"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.
"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.
He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.
"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."
Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.
He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"
"More, please," you begged softly.
He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"
"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."
"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.
Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.
"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.
"Where do you need me, baby?"
"Inside me," you whimpered.
Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"
You shook your head rapidly.
"Words, babe," he said firmly.
"I want your cock, Dean."
"Yeah? Tell me where."
You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.
Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.
He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.
Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.
"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."
You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.
You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.
Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."
"What?!" you gasped in surprise.
He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.
Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.
While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.
Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."
His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.
Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.
"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."
You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.
"Made for me, weren't you baby?"
"Mhmm," you hummed.
Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.
His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.
You simply whined desperately.
"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."
"More," you begged.
"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.
One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.
"Dean!" you cried.
He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."
He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.
You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.
Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.
"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.
You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.
He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.
He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.
"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."
You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."
He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"
Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."
"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.
Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.
The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.
"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.
"Dean," you groaned.
"Come on, my love--let go."
Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.
You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.
"Just one more," he begged.
"I can't!" you whimpered.
"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.
You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.
"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.
His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.
Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."
Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.
Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.
He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."
He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."
You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.
Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."
"Yours, Dean. Only yours."
"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"
His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.
He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.
You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.
"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.
"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.
Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.
"I'm not complaining," you assured him.
He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.
He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."
"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."
He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."
You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"
Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."
You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"
He grinned. "Really."
"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.
His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.
You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."
Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."
You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.
You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.
When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."
"But--"
"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.
He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.
As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.
You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."
He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."
You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."
Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."
862 notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 9 months
Text
𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : after the mission, all you can think about is Miguel, up to the point where you can't sleep because of all your thoughts. so you go to the strength and conditioning centre to try and exhaust yourself. but miguel pays you a visit there, and the training takes another turn...
content warnings : mentions of blood, (if there are any others please do tell so i can add them !), reader is obsessed, no use of y/n word count : 3,9k
note : this is dedicated to the beautiful @gollygothgal , with tension and hot miguel hehe. here's the 2nd part of the miguel 3shot thingy ! i hope you'll enjoy it. i am currently thinking about opening up requests for miguel, so if anyone has got a juicy idea they'd like to see written, don't hesitate to send it !! <33
chapters' list : 1 - lovebite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)
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One punch.
He did it to help you, nothing more, there was nothing behind it, nothing unprofessional, nothing at all.
Two punches.
No, nothing, not even when you pulled on his hair and the moan in his throat vibrated into the bullet that was lodged in your flesh.
Three punches, the bag rocks.
Surely you're not the first person he's done this to, right? Dealing with this kind of wound in the middle of a mission must have been part of his daily routine after all.
Fourth punch, the impact spreads across the knuckles of your hand.
What if it wasn't? What if he'd deliberately decided to give you the special treatment of losing his time on the mission to take care of you?
Fifth blow, you were breathing hard. You stood back, your hands aching as they sponged your sweaty forehead with their backs.
It had only been a week since the last mission, and all you could think about was Miguel. Every five minutes the whole thing would start up in your head, sometimes so strongly that you felt it defined you. The spadassin of your logic kept chasing your imagination brazenly, it was trying to foam hollow ideas about him.
Was this scene really intimate? Or in your cruel lack of physical and sentimental affection had you simply imagined meanings for certain gestures that were pure delusion?
After the mission, while the anomalies were being properly stored, you went to the infirmary. There, you were asked questions that were still stuck in your head.
"What's that bite?" they asked about the two incisions Miguel had left in your skin, "and why is it all blue here? There's more ruptured blood than there should be..."
Apparently, the nurses had very rarely seen incisions of this kind on the bodies of other spider men or women, the only cases so far being on Miguel himself. The news had a strange effect on you. As for the clouds of bruises Miguel had left around the impact, the mere sight of them turned you into a red poppy.
So Miguel had never bitten anyone else on a mission to administer his painkiller... nope, let's not jump to conclusions!
Maybe gunshot wounds just weren't frequent on missions, haematomas or cuts were commonplace here.
After that, you were brought together with the others to report back. You hadn't been much help to the mission, apart from freeing Miguel from that foam. And after that? Too little contact and far too many thoughts.
The few times you saw Miguel, you only had time to say hello before he went about his business. The few words he'd say were "How's your wound?", and then he'd be off, busier than a minister.
And every day, as if you were watching the sky for a shooting star, you hoped. You hoped for a twinkle, a smile, just the possibility that your eyes might meet.
And every night, you would go over and over these tiny things that seemed gigantic in the eyes of your heart. And tonight, the same thing.
It was the hour when memories flood back, just when sleep goes on strike. You were trying to sleep, but you were tossing and turning, your mind replaying the whole scene like a power-point with multiple explanations attached to the images.
Just an focus, on the too pale clichés of a love story, on the state of mind of a woman without an alibi who dreams every night of a man whose existence you didn't even know existed until recently. Just a focus, for a little wink of survival, for all the fools, the love-sick, for all the victims of romanticism. Just a little wink, a focus.
You were tired of this perpetual propensity of your thoughts to redirect themselves to Miguel. There was nothing you could do, it was like trying to stop the sun from rising and setting. Because even with adamantine force, you can't stop the natural from happening.
You're more insignificant than the dust under his fingernails, you thought. Pull yourself together! Miguel has to look after a company of at least seven hundred people like you.
And it was true, Miguel had much better things to do than have anything other than a professional relationship with you.
You huffed and puffed in bed, sleep really not coming, so you put on your everyday clothes, prioritising comfort, and headed for the Strength and Conditioning centre.
If sleep didn't come, you'd wake it yourself. And so you found yourself boxing a sandbag. And honestly? It was harder than what you'd seen in the movies. Or at least, you felt some pain in your fingers as you punched, knowing full well that something was wrong, but not knowing what. The job of Spider Man wasn't new to you, but you had to admit that when it came to hand-to-hand combat, you missed some of the basics.
You glanced down at your hands, their knuckles reddened, and for a few seconds you remembered the ridiculously large size of Miguel's hand resting on your waist, then how it had felt when he had held your thigh in place, and you could have sworn that at that moment his claws had come out, sharper than a quarter of a strawberry.
If only it were possible for your mind to go on holiday, just to get away from the real Miguel City that had settled in your mind a little too quickly. You let out a grunt of frustration.
But your hair stood on end for a second - someone had just come into the room.
"What's wrong?"
You immediately turned your head towards the entrance, Miguel coming towards you. Your heart skipped a beat and you froze. For pity's sake, was this a dream?
The terrible thing about this mental affliction was that, although you visualised him more often than you should because you found that you spent less time with him, when the time came for you to interact as you would have dreamt of, the image of his red eyes went straight to the edge of your heart and you had the sudden feeling that you wanted to leave immediately.
If you come at any moment, I'll never know what time to dress my heart. Perhaps it was the extent of your desire that made you feel ashamed, and for fear that he would see it, hear it, feel it, you preferred to leave. But you stood your ground, giving yourself a mental slap in the face to pull yourself together as he came within a reasonable distance of you. There weren't enough moments with him, so you were going to make the most of them.
Your eyes widened slightly, because you'd never seen Miguel in normal clothes before. A hoodie with cut-off sleeves and loose jogging bottoms, simple and relaxed, but how could Miguel be relaxed? After all, he was Miguel.
He didn't look upset, which was a first. You were so used to seeing him frustrated, with that invariable weariness that accompanies him everywhere. On the other hand however, he was looking at you quizzically, and it was only then that you remembered that he had asked you a question.
"Oh, um," you said, resting the side of your fist on the bag, "I've never fought a war this tough, and to think that my enemy is just a sandbag," you smiled.
A sneer stretched his cheek, the thin crack between his lips letting a flash of light shine on his faintly glistening canines, and for a moment the image of them tracing your thigh came back to mind. It had left its mark on your mind, like a stain, and it won't wash off, no matter how hard you scrub your mind.
But a frown settled on his forehead, his eyes lowered to your fist.
"Hmm..." he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.
You had to stop yourself squinting at them and keeping your eyes on his.
"Show me how you hit," he said.
You bit the inside of your cheek. Training with other spider-men and women was something you were comfortable with, the pressure was off, everyone learned a little from each other without judgement. But training in front of Miguel? The bar had been raised, the pressure of the stare oozing seriousness and criticism weighed on your shoulders.
Timidly then, you stepped away from the bag, and struck a blow with little confidence.
He nodded, the same retentive tt-tt being heard.
"Your fingers are in the wrong place," he raised his to show you, and as you mimicked his pose, he moved closer to you and took your hand to place your fingers correctly.
It was the first time you'd felt his hands naked against yours. They were far from soft, but they were warm, callused by time and effort. It seemed to you that he could lock your fist in his hand with ease, and the vision of his hands rearranging yours gave you the impression that every bit of skin he touched lit up and sparkled with little stars.
It must be that you couldn't mithridate your desires for him, your body and your thoughts returning to the charge to drink it all in, to take any crumb of his presence and his touch that you could get.
His annoyance seemed to return for a moment, his knuckles running over your reddened and cracked joints. He blew out a breath, and the frown disappeared.
"There, try it again", he said, barely moving away.
You came down from your little cloud and struck again. You were almost tempted to disturb your fingers again if it meant he'd put them back into place.
"Keep going," he said, taking a step forward and starting to circle around you.
You swallowed, continuing the task, taking great care not to look too ridiculous. You punched a few more times, Miguel having made an arc and stopped on your other side.
"Your posture is not right," he remarked, and you shivered as his hand came to rest on your waist.
Sliding gently over your belly, applying a minimum of force to better guide you to perfect your posture. You felt his hand come up and pull slightly on your shoulder, putting your arm back in a more favourable position at the same time.
"You need to find a balance in your body when you strike; if you put everything you have into your fist, the rest can be used too easily against you" he said, his tone calm.
But it was a little too complicated to follow his instructions now, especially when you felt his breath landing on your ear and the back of your neck. Every brush of his fingers and skin against yours made your cheeks flush and gave you a real peony look.
His other hand came to rest on your hip, on that famous protruding angle of the pelvic bone, to reorientate your body. You inhaled sharply, but tried not to make it too noticeable. All that was missing was...
"Is everything all right? Your heart rate seems to have increased."
... the same question as last time. This time, there's no way to pretend you're worried about your team-mates who are on a mission. So what's the excuse this time?
"I ate a cereal bar before I came here, must be the sugar, no doubt."
Wow. Beautiful. Brilliant. Fantastic.
You crossed your fingers that Miguel didn't pay any more attention.
"Hm," he exhaled, "just spread your legs a little... there you go, like that," he said as his hand lingered lightly on your waist before moving away from you again. "Show me," he asked, confident that his modifications to your position would prove useful in your training.
Already more confident, you began to strike again. And after half a dozen blows, you turned to him, a satisfied smile adoring his face.
"Much better," he said. He raised his hand to the level of his head, index and middle fingers together, wiggling them, indicating for you to move forward as he stepped back slightly, "Now, show me how you'd do it in real life."
Wait, was he really offering you combat training? The great Miguel O'Hara, who had no time but for the great multi-dimensional organisation of spider-men and spider-women, had just offered you training?
Hesitantly, you moved forward.
"So you want me to fight? With... you?" you asked.
"Who else," he replied, opening his arms to encompass the room, completely empty apart from you two.
"I'm going to get crushed," you smiled as you reached him.
"I'll do my worst," he offered, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
"No, otherwise I'd let you destroy your hands on the bag a bit more," he said, pointing at them, "you'll have to remember to put some ice on it.
Touché.
You felt a little guilty for taking up his free time, he who must have had so little leisure, so few opportunities to settle down without having to worry about anything. But at the same time, what did you have to feel guilty about, when it was he himself who had offered to help you? After all, it was he who had come to you. Was it simple pity then? No, let's not think about personal sabotage, let's just enjoy it.
"Come on, show me how you do it, I'll do it with one hand behind my back if you prefer." He says, not even pretending to get into a fighting stance.
"What an egalitarian spirit," you say, your voice coming out with a half-sigh, half-laugh.
Coming from one of the most capable and experienced Spider-Men in the society, how could you not shudder at the thought of fighting him?
So you positioned yourself, trying as best you could to put in place the investments he had just taught you. The thought of disappointing him was gnawing at the back of your mind.
Once you found your position sufficiently adequate, you dived towards him. With a move that seemed as simple as that, he dodged by leaning to the side while placing his foot against your ankle, so you fell pitifully to the ground.
Well, it wasn't going to be any fun after all.
"Remember what I told you," he said, coming towards you, holding out his hand, "if you put everything you have in your fist, the rest can be used against you too easily.
You looked at him for a moment, his brown eyes slightly crinkled by his little smile. Your cheeks warmed as you took his hand to stand up.
"Do it again," he said.
You breathed in, trying to concentrate and not think about the fact that you'd had more physical and vocal interaction with the object of all your thoughts in the last few minutes than you'd had in a week.
So you tried to balance your strength in your body, and came back to the charge, but you tried a surprise. You knew he'd probably see it coming a mile away, but why not try? So you gave him the impression that you were attacking him from your left, when at the last moment you deflected to the right.
And then you punched him in the cheek. The impact surprised you both, and Miguel took a meagre step backwards, bringing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide with surprise.
"Shit shit shit! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" you moved towards him in a panic, as if to check him out.
You'd just punched Miguel O'Hara in the cheek. But then, just as you were expecting to be shouted at and slammed into a wall in the next few seconds, he smiled, and the smile became a soft laugh.
You looked at him, completely stunned by his reaction. No anger, no exasperation, no threats or insults in Spanish, just a little laugh.
"That's much better," he said. "Don't worry, I can handle punches, but I recognize this is a correct hit."
You fluttered your eyelashes a few times in surprise before just puffing out your nose, a little laugh taking hold of you as well.
"Come on, let's get on with it" he said, this time getting into a fighting stance. He sweated authority, while you sweated... period.
You nodded in agreement, and the two of you began a battle of successive dodges and punches that went wide. He was holding back, you could feel it. He didn't strike a single blow, just tiny smacks with the back of his hand. So you thought for a moment, you were going to surprise him like he had surprised you with his kick. Could you take down a man the size and width of a fridge? Doubtful, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
It's as if, in the middle of the nettles, you'd found a patch of grass where you could put your foot down without stinging yourself. So you placed your leg correctly behind his knee, which surprisingly succeeded in throwing him off balance, and just as he was about to fall with a small stranglehold of his voice, his hand grabbed your wrist and dragged you down.
The shock was less, because you had fallen onto Miguel himself and his body had been used as a landing mattress. Out of breath, and not exactly aware of the situation you were in, you placed your hands on the ground on either side of his body to at least straighten yours and not crush him, your back bent like a wilting flower.
"Hey, is everything all right?"
Miguel grunted slightly, his eyelids reopening. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised the position you were in, and especially how close you were. Your faces only a few centimetres apart, your breaths colliding.
"Mhm," he said simply, "you did well, I must admit."
And as the simple feeling of victory took your heart by storm, Miguel grabbed you by the waist with both hands and rolled you onto your side, reversing your positions with lightning speed.
"But you're going to have to keep practising," he smirked, one of his hands separating from your waist to rest on the ground next to your head.
And your strength turned to water. Your gaze scanned his, and you wished you could see your own eyes just to know how much they betrayed you, especially when they inevitably drifted to his lips. You didn't need to lie to yourself, you wanted to, they looked so soft... It was the sensation of his thumb making a single, simple circular movement on your stomach that brought you out of your reverie on his lips, regaining his eyes.
"Distracted?" he asked, his eyes a little darker than before.
Sure enough, you had metamorphosed into a big red tomato. So your reflex was to bring both hands up to your face to hide it.
"Uh huh," Miguel prevented, removing his hand from your waist to move your hands away from your face, getting even closer. "What's there to hide, hum?"
His eyes seemed very observant of what was being said in yours, and you wondered if he could see all the emotions rumbling in your heart. You could feel the strands of his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks. The tension was so heavy and pervasive that you could have cut it with a knife.
"My desires," you whispered as an answer, clearing your throat and moistening your lips, your eyes moving tirelessly from his to his lips.
You gasp, the closeness between the two of you acting as a veritable truth serum.
"Tell me about them," he murmured.
You bit the inside of your lip, breathing softly. The inner battle was powerful. To remain silent and regret, or to say something and hope? What if it all stopped? What if it bothered him so much that he couldn't look at you any other way than uncomfortable? And what if... what if... And if I don't try anything, I'll never know.
"A... A kiss," you managed to say.
"A kiss?" he repeated, as if testing the taste of that word in his mouth. "Tell me, where."
You squirmed slightly, perhaps you'd be more successful in speaking your thoughts with your eyes closed? But when you shut them for a moment, you felt his nose brush against yours, his thumb on your hip again making circular movements.
"Where?" he asked again, both of you reduced to whispers. Still hearing no answer, he moved to kiss your forehead, "there?", but you shook your head. Then he kissed the top of your eyelid, "there?", and went on to kiss your cheek, "there?", his voice barely a whisper.
He brushed against your nose again, his lips barely grazing the corner of yours.
His eyes had a tender sparkle as he kissed them tenderly. His lips tasted of wood and rain, pulling back : "There?”
"Yes," you sighed, your eyelids half-closed, "there". You moistened your lips.
"I think I heard you wrong," he murmured. "Say it again."
You swallowed, trying to raise your head to kiss him again, but understanding your tactics, he buried his face closer to your neck, his lips brushing your ear.
"Say it again."
A shiver ran through you as his breath spread a wave of heat down your neck, straightening slightly to face you again.
"Kiss me, again."
And he came to kiss you once more, softly, dark and silent as the night. His hand ran down your body, up your side and over your back to push a little more of your body against his. Your hands came to rest on his cheek and back, your fingers snaking through his hair, nails lightly grazing his skull.
A moan bubbling up his throat reverberated on your lips, just like on the mission.
" If only you wouldn't make me want you..." he whispered between kisses, his mouth growing a little hungrier as his fangs nibbled lightly at the skin of your lip.
He came to kiss your jaw, your neck, drinking in your skin, breaths of ease escaping from your lips.
But suddenly, a small cluster of orange pixels appeared not far from your heads.
"Miguel we got a- oh hi there!" said Layla in a tone that was a mixture of playfulness and surprise.
You immediately turned your head to the side to avoid her, your cheeks flushing red. Your heart was pounding in your chest like a bird trying to get out of its cage.
"Go away Layla," he said though, his hand coming to take your chin, his eyes half closed, kissing you again.
"But Miguel it's-"
"It's very important for your future that you don't finish your sentence," Miguel growled as he moved from your mouth to your throat again, letting his canines lightly trace along your pulse line.
"And the situation is just as important for all our futures," Layla insisted.
Miguel grunted, sighing, and murmured softly:
"I'm sorry."
You kissed his cheek and he raised his eyebrows.
"It's okay."
He kissed your lips quickly.
"This is not over," he warned, sitting up and helping you to your feet. "Go and sleep now." Looking at your hand in his, he added: "And take care of this," pointing to your knuckles.
You nodded as he began to walk away.
"Oh yeah, Miguel has been keeping an eye on you!" said Layla, a small smile wrinkling her nose.
"What?" you asked, confused.
"Layla ?" Miguel called dangerously.
"Okay okay gotta go, goodnight!" she said, vanishing into thin air to come and stand next to Miguel.
The two of them left the room, and you looked at the exit.
What had just happened?
next part >> unexpected mission (nsfw)
1K notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 4 months
Text
Campus Breakdown
prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.
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The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.
"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"
"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"
You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"
He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"
"It won't fix what happened."
"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."
You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."
He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.
Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.
"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."
You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.
"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"
"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"
Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."
"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."
"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"
"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.
"The fucking register went down."
"You mean the only one in the whole place?"
"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"
"What'd you do?"
"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"
"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.
"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"
"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"
"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."
"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"
"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.
"C'mon, why not?"
"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"
"I'm literally so nice!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."
He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"
"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.
Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."
"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "
"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.
"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."
"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."
You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."
"See? I'm good for something."
"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."
Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"
You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.
"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.
"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."
"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"
"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.
"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"
Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"
Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.
He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.
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requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
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nexysworld · 11 months
Text
Gym Adventures
Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist
Summary: Leon and Chris convince you to go to the gym with them for the first time. While you're not super keen at first, what you don't expect is the additional activities you manage to get up to.
Or: Hot gym-shower threesome with Chris and Leon. Pairing: Chris & Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, Thigh riding, blowjobs,throatfucking, shower sex, unprotected sex, double creampie, p in v sex, threesome, dirty talk, praise, sex in a public place? (no other people there tho.) No use of Y/N
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Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a sigh and gave yourself a once-over, turning to get a full picture of your appearance. You wondered if this outfit would meet the mysterious criteria of being "gym appropriate." It was the fourth outfit you had tried on, and none of them felt quite right. Tossing another top onto the bed, joining the pile of discarded clothes, you decided to take a different approach.
As you pulled on the fifth top of the day, a knock on the door interrupted you. "We're going to be late. You know I was joking when I said 'dress to impress.' I promise no one cares what you wear to the gym," Chris called out. He and Leon had been taking turns trying to convince you to make a decision on your attire so that you could finally get going. They had been persistent in convincing you to join them at the gym in the first place, and it had taken them a week to succeed.
"I know that," you replied. "Just give me a few more minutes, okay?"
If you were being honest, the issue wasn't really the clothing, but the idea of working out with them in general. They were both so fit from their jobs that it made you feel self-conscious, regardless of what you were wearing. Coming to this realization, you opted to throw a sweater over your current outfit and opened the door to a startled Leon, who was now taking his turn to knock. Apparently, you had taken longer than just a few minutes this time.
"Oh, there you are. I thought we were going to be late," he said with an awkward chuckle.
"How can we be late to a 24-hour gym?" you inquired as he stepped back to let you pass.
"It was just a figure of speech. I thought you were never going to leave the room," he explained as the three of you made your way to the front door, heading outside into the crisp night air. You had agreed to go only if there wouldn't be anyone else around, so they suggested going in the middle of the night.
Upon arriving at the gym, you felt relieved to see that there was indeed no one else there. It eased your anxiety a little. Entering the building, the two men immediately took it upon themselves to show you around, pointing out different equipment and asking about your interests. "Uh... the treadmill, I guess," you replied, not fully absorbing all the fitness information they were throwing at you.
"Are you sure that's all?" Chris raised an eyebrow.
"No judgment from us," Leon added. "We just thought you might want to work on your strength too." He flexed his arm playfully. You rolled your eyes, but it did manage to make you laugh.
"No thanks, maybe next time. I think the treadmill is just fine for now," you said, taking off the oversized sweater and tossing it aside. The lack of response from the two men with you was odd since they always had something to say, especially Leon.
"Everything okay? Did I do something wrong?" Suddenly, anxiety washed over you, thinking you may have done something silly like turning the machine on incorrectly. You turned to look at them and saw that they were both staring at you before immediately whipping their heads in other directions, trying to act cool.
"Oh, you're fine," Chris said, turning to face the weights. "We were just keeping an eye on you, making sure you didn't blow up the machine or something."
Leon seemed uneasy too, already walking towards a piece of equipment whose name you couldn't remember. "What Chris said. Just making sure you're okay."
‘Well, that was weird,’ you thought to yourself, stepping onto the treadmill. It wasn't like them to not hover, especially if there was even the slightest chance of you hurting yourself. You let the thought go, assuming that the gym was their domain and maybe they were just serious about their own workouts. However, the silence as time went on did make you feel a bit uneasy.
You decided to put in your earbuds, listening to some music as you ran, tuning out everything around you. Every now and then, you glanced over at one of them, thinking you caught them staring, only to see them quickly avert their gaze when they noticed you looking. Their increasingly strange behavior puzzled you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your music and your run.
You hadn't realized how much time had passed until your music stopped, concluding your workout playlist. Breaking a sweat and feeling a satisfying burn in your legs, you stopped the treadmill and stepped off. Raising your arms above your head, you stretched from side to side before bending down to touch your toes. The stretching felt great, and although hesitant to admit it, running in the gym instead of the humid outside air did feel a lot better. Maybe Chris and Leon had been right about going.
When you looked around, you noticed that Chris was nowhere to be found, and Leon seemed to be finishing up his own routine. You took it as a cue to grab your bag and make your way over to the showers. However, in your distraction, you accidentally walked straight into the men's showers, only realizing your mistake when you stopped abruptly, seeing Chris facing the showerhead in his stall, steam radiating from around his lower half.
A lump formed in your throat as you watched them. You knew them for a while, yet you couldn't summon a memory of ever seeing either of them without their shirts much less naked. You had gotten a sense of their bodies through their work clothes and the thin material of their t-shirts, but this was entirely different.
Your eyes followed the water droplets that glided down Chris's back, each one collecting into all of his perfect curves before sliding off of him. His body moved like a masterpiece beneath the shower water. You felt warmth fill your stomach as the spark of desire began growing.
'I should go. I should go before he catches me--' Your thoughts were interrupted before you could act on them.
"You know, they say it's not polite to stare," Leon's silky voice purred, his warm breath tickling your ear from behind.
"I wasn't staring!" You protested louder than intended. Turning around, planning to scramble past Leon, you saw that he was disrobed as well, wearing only his underwear.
'Fuck, he's fit too,' you thought, your eyes fixed on his well-carved body. It was like someone had taken a lingerie model from the pages of a magazine and put him in front of you. Heat rose to your face, embarrassed that Leon had caught you peeking at Chris in the shower, and now you were completely frozen in place, ogling Leon as well.
"Are you sure about that, Princess?" Leon's lips stretched into a mischievous grin. You found yourself unable to look away from the trail of hair below his navel and then to the band of his black boxers. Your nipples became hard against your bra and your panties clinging to you with an uncomfortable wetness as you fought for words to respond.
To your dismay, Chris had heard part of the commotion and turned to look at you and Leon. "What the hell?!" You couldn't tell if he was more irritated or confused as he stared at the two of you.
“My apologies, Redfield. It appears our young lady here can’t help but stare,” Leon joked, lightly caressing your cheek with his thumb. Annoyed and embarrassed at his comment, you batted it away.
"What are you talking about?" Chris asked, raising an eyebrow. 
Attempting to duck out of the steam-filled room, you were stopped by Leon. "Oh, don't be shy now, Baby. Why don't you tell Chris what I caught you doing, hmm?"
Huffing your cheeks and crossing your arms like a child, you didn't want to give in to Leon's teasing, but you still felt guilty about your own actions. Swallowing your pride, you turned to Chris. "I walked into the wrong shower by accident, and I may have... been staring... I'm sorry." Your face was flushed with shame as your eyes met his brown ones.
The steam of the shower station partially obscured your view of Chris, so you could only see the contours of his pecs and broad shoulders. The patchy brown hair clung to his chest, emphasizing his thick muscles and wide shoulders. He was built like a linebacker and every inch of him screamed strength. "Now, why would you be doing that?" he asked with amusement in his voice, well aware that you were examining him.
"I... I don't know," you chewed your cheek nervously. "Look, it was a mistake. Let me just get out of here to the women's room. I'll shower, and we can head home."
"No need for that, you're already here," Leon offered, clicking the lock into place on the door. "See? It's just me and Chris. You won't have to worry about anyone else coming in." Leon walked past you, shedding the last of his own clothing before taking a stall and turning the water on.
Chris shrugged. "Leon's right. You might as well stay. Besides, you wouldn't want to worry about any potential wandering eyes," he teased, letting out a chuckle that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Shut up! You know, I caught the two of you gawking at me out there too!" you retorted.
"Did we now?" Leon shouted over at you, and you could swear you heard him laugh under the shower. "Because I certainly don't remember that."
"Me either," Chris added, crossing his arms. "I only remember observing you for your own safety."
Not wanting your pride to be chipped away any further, you huffed, ending the conversation and walking over to the farthest stall possible to take your own shower. You knew that they wouldn't immediately see your unclothed form due to the distance and steam.
Turning on the shower and stepping inside, you relished the feeling of the hot water hitting your skin, washing away the sweat and easing the tension in your muscles. Closing your eyes, you did your best to just focus on the relaxation of the shower. However, images of the two men kept flooding your mind. The heat in your core never fully went away, but would come back in waves each time you pictured one of them … or both of them. As you ran a hand down your own body, you stopped just a moment to tweak at your budding nipple quietly hissing in pleasure before working your hand lower and lower, until your fingers were between your legs rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves there.
Each twitch of pleasure had you biting your lip to stay quiet as you desperately worked at yourself. Normally you were one for a much slower build of pleasure, but all you wanted right now was relief so you could finish your shower in peace, get dressed, and head home. Despite your internal prayers, you weren’t seeming to get any closer to your peak, taking far longer than expected.  Unbeknownst to you as well, the men had started to worry in your silence and the extended length of your shower.
“Oh.” You heard, eyes snapping open to see Leon and Chris standing before you, both having towels wrapped around their hips. If you had been embarrassed before, you were downright humiliated now.
“We were just coming to check on you. You’d been in there a while.” Chris said, breaking the tension.
“Guess now we know why.” Leon added, amused. “Bet you were thinking about us too, weren’t you Princess? Staring wasn’t good enough, was it? You looked pretty desperate, pawing at that little pussy like you’d die if you didn’t cum.” 
The sound of Leon's words had left you stunned, unable to move as a wave of desire rushed through your body. His vulgar words destroyed any resistance you had almost instantly, and any response felt trapped in your throat.
“I’ll take that silence as agreement then.” Leon chuckled. “Poor thing, looks like you weren’t even getting anywhere. Guess we better help, so we can get you home.” Leon moved past you, dropping the towel from his waist before pulling you down to sit on his thigh, while he seated himself on the little bench inside the shower.
The second your bare pussy made contact with his leg, you let out an involuntary mewl, pleasure jolting through you slightly. He had you facing away from him, putting his hands on your hips to help glide your slick cunt over the muscle of his toned thigh. The most pathetic noises left your lips as he did so.
“Shit, I think you were right Leon, so desperate.” Chris said, ditching his own towel to enter the shower stall and kneeling in front of you. He cupped your face between both hands. “Be honest, you were thinking about us, weren’t you, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes.” You admitted with a choked whine, hands coming forward to get purchase on Chris’ shoulders as Leon jostled his leg purposefully, sending an added spark of pleasure to your clit.
“What did you imagine sweetheart? Were we taking turns fucking you, passing you back and forth until we were done, or did we pleasure you together?” Chris let go of your face to move his hands down to your chest, using his thumbs to rub circles over your puckered nipples making you whimper.
Leon stopped all of his movements and held you in place. “He asked a question, Princess”, he said softly as he peppered your back with sweet kisses.
“T-together.” You managed to get out. As a reward for your honesty, Leon resumed helping you grind down onto his thigh while Chris worked your breasts before capturing your lips with his own in a tantalizing kiss. The taste of his tongue made you dizzy, and your hips tried to go beyond the speed Leon had set.
"That's right," Leon said, his voice low and deep as he removed his hand so you could go at your own pace. "Do whatever you need Baby." His thigh felt like a blissful cushion beneath your heated folds and Chris' kisses had you hot and hazy.
Chris' thumb circled one nipple as his other hand squeezed and massaged the swollen mound. Without warning he pinched down on one of the the sensitive nubs, sending waves of electric heat straight to the core of your body. You were surprised at how good everything felt, already so much closer than you had been using your fingers, and the two had barely done much to you. "Gonna cum." You mumbled into Chris' mouth.
"Go on baby." Chris encouraged. It didn't take long before you felt that familiar rush of pleasure darting from your core all throughout your body, making even your fingers and toes tingle.
They held you steady for a little bit giving you the chance to come down from your high and catch your breath. By now you could feel the hot length of Leon's hardened cock resting against you, and even with half your brain gone you knew Chris was likely in the same predicament.
"Look at you so beautiful right after you cum." Chris cooed, tilting your head up to look at him. "Think you can help us out in return sweetie?"
"Mhm." You nodded lazily. Chris coaxed you up from your spot on Leon's lap and readjusted you, so you were bent down face to face with Leon's cock, ass up for Chris.
"My turn to see that beautiful face." Leon smiled, stroking himself a couple of times. You watched as the tip leaked a few beads of pearly precum and darted your tongue out to lap at it. He hissed in pleasure before rubbing the head against your lips. "Shit baby, so eager already." Your tongue played with the head for a bit more before taking him into your mouth. You began to bob your head, sucking with increasing speed until you felt hands fisting your hair. "That's right baby, take it all."
You felt Chris move finally, dragging his own cock down the length of your slit to gather some slick. "I'm gonna put it in, ok?" You couldn't respond, but gripped Leon's thighs tightly, feeling the head beginning to build in your core again.
As he sunk himself into your pussy until he was bottomed out, you couldn't help but nearly choke down on the cock in your mouth. "Fuck you're tight, relax baby, you don't need to push me out. Gonna make you feel so fucking good." Chris said, kneading at your ass while he stopped to let you adjust.
Drool was pooling around the base of Leon's cock as you moaned around it. "God you look so beautiful like that." Leon said, wiping some spittle away with his thumb. "So fucking pretty with my cock down your throat, what a good girl taking me all the way." His words made your dripping cunt clench around Chris.
"With the way you were looking at us earlier I'm not surprised, your little pussy likes it when you're taking two cocks at the same time." Chris said, sliding himself back out and slamming back in to the hilt, making you moan around Leon's length. He pulled back out until only the tip was left before pushing in again.
You were doing your best to focus on moving your head up and down to pleasure the man in front of you, but it was hard getting your brain to focus when you were getting railed from behind.
Leon chuckled. "I think our Princess has been rendered a little too dumb to keep up. That's ok baby, just let me use that tight little throat of yours, you just relax." He said, tightening his grip on your hair bucking his hips up to fuck the tip of his cock farther down your throat before pulling you up to let you breath. "Such a good baby, taking me so well, choking on my cock." Leon praised as he pulled you back down taking in each gagged noise you made as he bucked back into your mouth.
"You like getting fucked like this baby?" Chris asked, picking up the pace, balls smacking against your clit with each movement.
"Mff!" You responded with eyes unfocused as your nose was buried in the wiry hair on Leon's pelvis.
Chris grunted, thrusts becoming slower but harder. It wasn't long before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you up with his hot cum. "Fuck baby." When he pulled his softening cock out, he used two fingers to scoop up some of the leaking cum, rubbing it against your clit just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to get you across the finish line. "You wanna finish her off?" Chris asked, looking at Leon.
In response, Leon popped you off of his own cock. "Want me to fuck his cum right out of you baby?" He asked, pulling you up so he could kiss your swollen lips and the tears streaming down your cheeks. You nodded, scooting to sit back onto his lap, sinking down onto his cock. Between your own spit, wetness, and the cum spilling out there was no resistance. You gripped Leon's shoulders for support, and he held you by your hips helping you bounce.
"That's it baby, come on." Leon was already close from your throat and it took nearly all his willpower to not cream the second you sank down on him. "Doing so well, cum for me baby." He cooed as he used his grip on your hips to speed up your movements.
You were so close yourself that his words sent you over the edge, clamping down around him, legs shaking as you whined. "Oh, fuck." He said as his own orgasm ripped through him, finishing inside of you.
You flopped forward into his arms, exhausted. He rubbed your back softly while he came down from his own peak. "Such a good girl, took us both so well."
You shifted uneasily on his lap, your muscles aching from the sudden love-making and your earlier workout. Your legs were beginning to feel cramped and uncomfortable.
“Here baby, stretch out for me.” Chris said, helping you sit beside Leon. He wiped you down gently with your wash rag to clean you up, before he used his large hands to work the knots out of the muscles of your thighs, moving down your legs. It caused a dull ache at first before the pain disappeared completely, leaving you with jellied limbs. Your whole body felt heavy and your head was in and out of a relaxed twilight state. 
You yawned, rubbing your eyes, entirely exhausted. The two men gently propped you up, as they assisted you into your clean clothes. As you waited for them to finish cleaning and changing into their garments, you absentmindedly used your gym bag as a pillow and dozed off until you felt someone picking you up.
The shifting of gravity caused your eyes to open again in a small panic. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.” Chris said softly. “Just taking you back to the Jeep so we can get you home and to bed.”
The slight breeze from the nighttime air felt nice against your skin as you were carried outside and buckled into your seat. Leon sat next to you, letting you lean against him while he gently played with your hair as Chris took up the driver’s seat. “What do you think Princess, wanna come to the gym more often with us now?” Leon asked softly.
“Mhm.” You answered, closing your eyes again, drifting off to sleep at the sound of the ignition starting.
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agustdiv1ne · 9 months
Text
♫⋆。`♪ ₊゚.11:01 p.m. (m) — choi yeonjun
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genre: smսt, bratty sub!yeonjun, rockstar!yeonjun, dom!fem!reader, yj wears a collar at all times bc i said so, light petplay (he gets called pup, but nothing further than that) <3
wc: 2.9k
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yeonjun's little secret is hidden in plain sight.
his skeleton in the closet is encapsulated by a simple piece of leather wrapped around his throat — it's something that he nearly always has on, whether it be promotional photos, meet and greets, or concerts. his fans have spotted it on him when he's out partying, perusing festivals, even while he's simply out and about. sometimes, he even attaches a longer piece to it, wraps it around his wrist like a leash, and yet everyone always dismisses it as some sort of social commentary (he's honestly seen enough think pieces on twitter to last a lifetime). and when someone asks about it? he brushes it off and smoothly changes the subject.
because it's not just a plain old choker, or a collar worn to criticize an oppressive social regime — no, it is yeonjun's indirect way of telling the world that he belongs to you.
indeed, you, the pretty little girlfriend of tomorrow by together's famous drummer, have more power over him than anyone else. he's yours to keep in line, yours to ruin — yours to own, wholly and completely. sure, you keep your relationship with him fairly private, but the collar is your own way of staking claim on the man that is desired by everyone. what can you say? you’re a little territorial.
and maybe it makes your sex life just a bit more exciting.
yeonjun slams his sticks down on his drumset’s cymbals one final time before he’s ripping his in-ears out in order to hear the crowd. their screams heighten the adrenaline racing through his veins, his heart pounding against his ribcage so hard he thinks that it might burst from his chest. slick sweat shines against his bare, tanned skin under the blazing stage lights that illuminate him and the rest of the band. they blind the crowd from his eyes, but he can still hear the frenzied screams of “i love you!” and “fuck me please!” and the cries that beg them to continue the show — he eats it up, basks in the untouchable feeling as he stands on his chair and dramatically bows to his fans. hopping down to join the rest of his members at the front of the stage, they give their wild fans one last goodbye as the platform they stand upon begins to lower below the stage, each of them waving to fans. before he is fully off stage and the mic in his hand cuts off, he allows one last bellow of “thank you, chicago! good night!”
impatiently, he mumbles a quick “good job” to the other guys before he’s leaping off the moving platform, removing the stage gear that is strapped to his torso beneath his tank top and tossing it to the floor with little abandon. the staff can pick it up for him later, because all he can think about is finding you right now; he’s excited to hear what you think, always a glutton for your praises. 
frantic eyes scan the crowded backstage area, trying to spot you amongst the sea of staff. his steps grow faster when he realizes you’re nowhere to be found, his heart racing for entirely different reason now. where are you? are you in his dressing room? are you fucking hiding from him? 
“jjunie!”
his head whips around in a flash at the familiar call of his name, watching as you slink over to him in the most mouthwatering outfit he’s ever seen. your skintight black shirt leaves little to the imagination, with plunging cutouts that show off the curvature of your breasts and leave your navel bare, tucked into what can barely be called a mini skirt due to how little it covers. your eyes shine as you stare up at him, hands reaching up to cup his jaw before you pull him into a messy kiss full of teeth and tongue and passion, ignoring the chaos that whirls around your bodies. he moves down to trail his lips down your neck, but you stop him with a single finger slipping under his collar at the back of his neck, pulling him back by it. the feeling lights a fire within him.
“easy there, tiger,” you laugh, smirking as you meet his kohl-lined eyes. “we’re in public.”
“but baby,” he whines, hands wandering down to your ass, slipping under your skirt, and delivering a hard squeeze to the bare flesh. “need you s’bad.”
your tongue subconsciously runs over your front teeth while you watch his once clear eyes grow all hazy and hooded. brushing a thumb over his plump lips, you murmur, “so needy already, hm?” he nods, and you bite back a cruel comment. “then how about we go to your dressing room, pup?” 
yeonjun feels the fire inside his stomach roar to life at the pet name, no longer just a tiny flame, but something all-consuming and desperate. the next few seconds pass as a blur as he makes a beeline towards his room, adorned with a star and his name. the door slams behind you, your back pressed to the wood soon after as he cages you in, his lips crashing against yours with fervor. he brazenly gropes at your exposed flesh, his already hardened cock pressing against your thigh through his jeans. he’s getting too bold, isn’t allowing you to lead — and you’re becoming annoyed.
your fingers find the thin strip of leather around his throat once more, pulling harder this time. he chokes at the feeling, fingers pressing deeper into your flesh, refusing to move as he diverts his attention back to your neck again. annoyance brews into a bubbling anger, your fingers leaving the collar to twist in his hair and yank. a yelp sounds from his throat at the tingly pain branching across his scalp.
“already forgetting who’s in charge, pup?” you grit out, pulling harder all the while. he releases a shaky breath, but doesn’t move to give you an answer. scoffing, your gaze sharpens. “get on your knees.”
“no,” he replies, defiance coloring his tone and expression. “i don’t wanna.”
you use your free hand to grip his chin. “don’t you want to cum tonight?”
“obviously,” he says, rolling his eyes. 
squeezing his chin, your vision spots red, and you seethe, “then get on your fucking knees.”
he gives you a similar response as before. while yeonjun is usually obedient, there are times where he becomes too greedy, too bold in trying to steal the reins from you unrelenting hands — it seems tonight is one of those nights, but you know just how to put him back in his rightful place. he’s too easy, really. 
without warning, you shove him away, stalking over to the other side of the room where your purse lies. you ignore his questions of what you are doing as you dig through the bag, quickly locating what you want: his leash. the black leather is cool against your skin as you wrap it around your hand, the clip held between deft fingers. it matches his collar perfectly; simple yet effective, you surmise. his eyes widen at the sight of you returning to where he stands with it in hand, mouth going dry as he realizes you aren’t in the mood to play tonight. 
yeonjun freezes as the clip loops around the small chain that holds his collar together, biting his lips when you tug, testing the integrity. your expression betrays nothing of your inner thoughts, gaze steely and borderline bored — you refuse to look at him now, moving in silence. he feels a tug from behind now, and it presses the leather against his windpipe for a moment. his cock twitches, and he aches to touch himself, to relieve the unbearable pressure in his pelvis. 
“i was gonna reward you tonight, y’know, for doing so well,” you sigh while you step in front of him again. your calm yet venomous tone sends tingles down his spine and more blood towards his center. you poke at the center of his chest before you continue. “but you decided to be a stupid little brat and not listen. so!”
you’re just being cruel now, but the pathetic furrow of his brow and the pout forming on his lips is the least of your concern at this point. you saunter over to the couch that sits in the middle of the room, bend over right in front of him, and slip your thong down your legs. behind you, he audibly gasps, both of your holes on proud display in front of his eyes. his attempt to surge forward is quickly thwarted, the length of his leash too short to even come close to reaching you, and he turns back to find that you have tied it to the doorknob. he reaches for the knot—
“don’t even try it,” you call. “that isn’t one you know, stupid pup.”
turning back to you, he finds you leaned back on the couch with your legs spread wide, perfectly manicured fingers slowly circling your clit. you emit a quiet moan as you tease yourself, hips rolling up into your fingers to search for more stimulation. gulping, he remains silent, focused on the way your entrance flutters around nothing. 
“i get to touch, you get to watch,” you sigh, pressing harder against your bundle of nerves. “and don’t even think about touching yourself without permission.”
knees weak, he stands there, vision growing hazy around the edges at you prod and tease yourself, working yourself up at a painfully slow pace. he knows you’re doing it on purpose, but his cock is so hard and it’s so painful and he just wants to—
“put your hands back at your sides,” you order, further threats already pouring out of you before he can process the command. “or do you want a worse punishment? want me to go get your bandmates? i’m sure they’d love to fuck me, make you watch with no way to stop them from taking me, have them use me ‘til they’re satisfied— mh, just thinking about that is getting me close.”
across the room, yeonjun feels tears line his eyes. the fingers that have sunken into your entrance should be his. he should be the one between your legs right now, his lips wrapped around your clit and your thighs suffocating him until he’s dizzy on your taste and scent. he should be the one with his cock in you, not anyone else — and especially not his fucking bandmates. falling to his knees, a sob wracks his form, but you’re still not feeling particularly kind. 
“aw, are you crying? you’re such a pathetic little thing, jjunie. can’t even listen to basic fucking orders, but you cry when you don’t get your way?"
the first tears slip down his face when your first orgasm hits you, your legs struggling to remain open as you whimper and whine, exaggerating your moans on purpose. you throw your head back and arch your spine, giving him a better view of your soaked hole as you ride out the waves of pleasure. 
“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks streaked with tears and his head hanging low. his fingers dig into the meat of his thighs, but you can catch the shake of his fingers despite his grip. 
of course, you heard him well enough, but you decide to feign ignorance. “what was that, pup? look at me when you speak.”
“i’m sorry!” he shouts, his pupils blown out and blurry with lust. “‘m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please— please let me touch you, wanna make you feel good. i can’t—”
“you’re sorry now?” you interrupt, his head nodding up and down in rapid succession. “huh, i’m not sure if i believe you.” 
“pleaseee!” your boyfriend sobs, disregarding anyone that may stand on the other side of the door, his voice thick and shaky. his collar has been pulled taut against his neck with how desperately he has tried to move towards you; his head is hazy and he can barely think about anything except pleasure, both his and yours. “please please please please—”
his begging continues as you rise from the cushions. you ignore the slight quake of your limbs, now leering over him while he stares back up at you, his shiny, swollen lips parted to allow soft pants to escape. crimson stains his cheeks and spreads down his neck, black streaks of ruined eyeliner mixing with it — an absolute painting.
extending a foot, you press the heel of your shoe against his erection. his jolts, a drawn-out whimper escaping him. your lips form a condescending pout as you press a little harder. “poor pup. so sensitive. so pathetic.”
“‘m not pathetic,” he whispers. with a single eyebrow raised and your head titled to the side, you crouch down to his level, gently gripping his chin.
“no?” you question softly. “then why are you so hard just from me degrading you?”
“‘m sorry, can’t— can’t help it.”
“aw, i know, baby.” you reach up to run your hand through his dusty rose hair, removing a few sweat-slicked strands from his forehead. “i’m gonna untie you. i want you to go sit on the couch, and take your pants and boxers off for me, okay?”
“m’kay.” 
he does as promised once you untie the knot. he even went one step further and removed his tank top, his cock pressed against his abdomen, the entire shaft an angry red, his veins more pronounced than usual. precum beads at his tip, dribbling over the side of his cock. obediently, his hands lay at his sides against the cushions. his fingers curl as you undress.
you move to straddle his lap, cupping his face in your palms. “i’m gonna put it in, pup. you're gonna be good, right?”
he nods before he inhales sharply, your fingers touching him where he needs you most. you guide his leaky cock to your entrance with one hand, biting your lip as you begin to sink down on him. the stretch causes your head to spin and your walls to flutter around him. he whines. “don’t, ngh, don’t do that.”
“what? this?” you ask as you purposefully clench your walls. his whimper morphs into a shout when you sink down fully, taking him to the hilt and staying there. his dick presses against the spongy spot deep inside you, stretches your walls perfectly. your pussy was made to take him, just as he was made to listen to you. 
the rhythmic grinding of your hips is enough to have him crying out, tears flowing down his face once again. you lean down to kiss them away, hands finding his and pressing them against the cushion on either side of his head. sighing in delight, you begin to fuck him faster, bouncing up and down on his cock. his mouth is frozen in a permanant ‘o,’ head thrown back while he bucks up into you.
“feel so good inside me, jjunie. so big,” you moan. he twitches inside you at the words, which spurs you to keep going. “such a dumb little thing, just need my pussy and you’re gone? have to have me think for you? so— fuck, so cute. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
“y-yes! all yours, ‘m only yours!” he replies. you smile at the admission, releasing one hand to pull at his collar. his thighs begin to quake below you, muscles contracting and relaxing sporadically. you lean in to kiss him and swallow his loud moans, holding him close by the strip of leather. power paired with pleasure surges through your veins, pleased at his ruined state. you smile against his mouth. 
“rub my clit,” you encourage, feeling his thumb move like lightning to the little bud, his sloppy circles causing your rhythm to falter. “i’m gonna cum, jjunie. want you to cum inside— fill me up, pup. don’t you want that too?”
“yes! yesyesyesyes-” he rambles and rambles until you feel him spill inside you, ropes of cum painting your walls and triggering your own orgasm, his cock pulsing inside you as he continues to cum. your walls flutter as you ride out your high, your fingers moving to press his face against your breasts. he kisses and sucks at the flesh between high-pitched whines until you finally come down, the pulsing of your walls ceasing. slowly, you lift yourself off him, ignoring how his seed spills from your hole and onto the couch. with one final peck to his lips, you adjust his collar and sit next to him, pulling him into an embrace and allowing him to bury his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder. 
“did so good for me, jjunie. i’m so proud of you,” you murmur against his hair, rubbing soothing circles against his back. you gently rock him back and forth with you, making sure that he’s comfortable. “do you need anything, baby?”
“nuh-uh,” he says, voice vibrating against your skin. “just wanna be held.”
with a fond smile, you nod to yourself and squeeze him a little tighter.
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another-lost-mc · 1 year
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Desperation
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There's something wrong with Asmodeus.
ASMODEUS x afab!Reader 7.4k Words | NSFW | Smut with Feelings | Angst with a Happy Ending | First Time Summary: You were bullied by another student at RAD. Asmodeus hasn't been the same since. Content Warnings: Mentions of: anger, unhealthy coping mechanisms, possessive thoughts/behaviour, arguing and threats of violence, blood, brief bullying/harassment, bathing together, vaginal fingering, PIV sex. Reader uses gn!pronouns. ➤➤ Obey Me! Masterlist
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The tub in Asmodeus’s private bathroom is more like a pool than any bathtub you ever used prior to coming to the Devildom. It’s as enchanting and mysterious as the demon himself. You’re not even sure how he fills it - it must have some magical charm that keeps it full. The fresh petals he adds to the water never seem to wilt or lose their scent.
You’re sitting with Asmo near the edge of the pool. You skim your fingers along the surface of the crystal-clear water and it ripples gently at your touch. Asmo sits behind you on the marble step and supports your weight while you lean against him. He hums gently into your ear while he runs his fingertips through the ends of your hair. His chest is warm against your back. He’s naked from the waist up, but he left his boxer briefs on - for your comfort more than his. 
Normally you wouldn’t let Asmo see you like this - naked, vulnerable - in the bath or out of it. But earlier when he said he wanted to take care of you, his eyes burning with an intensity that left you speechless, he swept you away to his private bathroom. You were both still reeling from what happened earlier that afternoon, and you realized you wanted his comfort as badly as he wanted yours.
It was supposed to be an ordinary day at RAD: classes with the demon brothers, a student council meeting with Diavolo and Barbatos, perhaps breaking up a fight or two depending how well they got along today. You were sorting through paperwork near the front of the room while the demons bickered in their seats on the dais behind you. 
What you didn’t expect was Solomon bursting through the doors, grinning when Thirteen followed him inside. He ducked behind you while he asked for her to be reasonable and you knew things were going to end badly. She screeched at him as she pulled some sort of black, metallic orb from her bag and tossed it with all her might. 
The trap missed Solomon but it hit your arm instead before it dropped to the floor. It beeped menacingly at your feet and you felt the twinge of pain shoot through your arm when you raised your hands to cover your face. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for whatever was about to happen. 
Thirteen ran over and disarmed the orb before it did whatever else it was supposed to do. She apologized to you but glared venomously at Solomon who was still hovering behind you. He rolled his eyes and tsked, completely unbothered by her fury when she continued threatening him for trying to break into her cave again.
Asmo came to your side before any of his brothers could and shouted at Thirteen and Solomon for involving you with their squabble and putting you in harm’s way. Lucifer followed him and reprimanded Thirteen for her irresponsible behaviour, and he blamed both her and Solomon for disrupting the meeting.
While Thirteen was being lectured by a very grumpy-looking Lucifer, Solomon turned to you with a sheepish smile and apologized for involving you in their little disagreement. You shrugged your shoulders to brush off his apology - it could’ve been worse, after all - but his eyes narrowed when you winced in pain.
“Are you alright? Here, let me take a look—“ he offered as he reached for the lapels of your blazer.
Asmo nudged you back, pushing Solomon’s hand away and effectively shielding you from him. “I think you’ve done enough,” he gritted out angrily. His expression would’ve scared anyone that didn’t know him better - he looked terrifying, and even Solomon must’ve thought so because he raised his hands placatingly and stepped back.
“Come on, let’s go home,” you suggested quietly, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention. Your arm throbbed and the room felt uncomfortably tense as tempers flared; you didn’t want to be there anymore.
He looked at you over his shoulder and the fire in his gaze softened. He put his hand over yours and squeezed, turning from Solomon without another word and guided you towards the exit. He paused outside in the hallway long enough to murmur a quick healing spell to lessen the pain in your arm.
The walk home was quiet and uneventful, a blur of typical Devildom nighttime noise but the demon at your side had a scowl on his face that had others on the street giving you a wide berth. It wasn’t typical for the Asmo you know. He draped an arm over your shoulders to keep you tucked into his side but you could feel the tension in his body when you walked together.
When you arrived home, you started to walk towards your room for a shower and a nap, but he held onto your hand and seemed reluctant to let you go. No matter what you said, you couldn’t convince him you were fine; maybe he knew you were lying to yourself.
Let me take care of you.
When you agree to use his private bath, you don't expect that it’s going to be both of you bathing together. You’re too tired to argue -  and you’re genuinely worried about him too - so you finally relent and start to strip away the layers of your school uniform.
Asmo is visibly displeased when you ask him to dim the lights in a moment of self-consciousness. He reminds you that you have nothing to be ashamed of, but he does as you ask because he wants you to be comfortable.
While you undress, he gathers fluffy towels from a cabinet and sets them on the edge of the bathing pool. He grabs an empty basket and picks out bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. He even picks up a small bottle of fragrant oil and adds a couple drops to the water, satisfied when the steam from the warm water starts to diffuse the light floral scent. 
By the time you’re naked, he is standing in the tub, his underwear still on - you felt guilty that the silky material was probably being ruined by the water. He doesn’t seem to care about that or anything else except you. When you approach the pool hesitantly, a small smile graces his lips for the first time since the incident at school and he holds out his hand to you. When you place your hand in his, he keeps you steady while you step into the pool and wade through the water towards him. 
You want to sink below the surface of the water or shield your body from him with your hands, both desperate attempts to hide as much bare skin from him as you can. He senses your nervousness because he pulls you into a gentle hug that feels warm and soothing.
When you finally start to relax, he pulls away and reaches for the basket of toiletries floating nearby. You dunk your head into the water to wet your hair while he grabs the bottle of shampoo. He rubs his hands together and massages the suds onto your scalp. He hums quietly and your body sways gently in the water. Your eyes slip closed at the pleasant sensation of his fingertips working through your hair, rubbing at the back of your neck and melting away the tension between your shoulders. He does the same with the conditioner next; he seems to enjoy the sensation of your soft hair between his fingers while he pampers you.
You recognize the scent of the hair products and realize he’s using his own. His taste in cosmetics is luxurious and expensive, more than what you would ever dream to spend on yourself. You feel spoiled, like you’re someone precious. You’re distracted by how relaxed you feel, and you realize too late that he’s pouring body wash into his palm and sudsing it up between his hands.
He reaches for your left arm first, lacing your fingers together with one hand while he smooths the fragrant bubbles over your skin with the other. He does the same with your right arm, pausing before he accidentally touches the purple bruise forming where Thirteen’s trap struck you. He stares at the mark, barely brushing his fingers across it like he’s afraid of hurting you even more.
You squeeze his fingers to pull him out of the worried trance he’s fallen into. “It looks worse than it feels,” you say quietly. You try to reassure him but he doesn’t look like he believes you. He bends his head and brushes his lips over the mark before he continues with his task.
He washes your back, kneading the skin gently with his hands as he moves them across your body. He doesn’t stray below your waist, and he only washes the delicate column of your throat and shoulders before turning around to give you privacy. He gathers his basket and sets it on the edge of the pool while you quickly wash your chest.
You rinse the soapy layer off your skin by the time he turns around and pulls you into another hug. The water was a bit tepid now and it’s covered with a thin layer of film from the bath products he used.
“We should probably get out soon,” you murmur, resting against his bare chest. 
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says and he holds you a bit tighter. “No one is going to bother you tonight.”
You run your fingertips across the water’s surface. “But the water’s getting cool and it’s soapy.” It’s one of the reasons why you normally don’t like taking baths and prefer to shower.
But Asmo holds his hand above the water and starts whispering an incantation you don’t recognize. His hand glows and the water around you ripples gently before it settles. You nearly gasp at the odd sensation of the water instantly warming up again. The bubbly residue from his bath products is gone too.
“Well, that’s a neat trick,” you say with a quiet laugh. He watches your delighted reaction with a smile.
Asmo walks back towards the edge of the pool and pulls you with him. He hops back onto the marble step and scoots backwards. He spreads his legs and pats the space between them where he makes room for you. After a moment of deliberation, you follow him and settle against his chest. His thighs are bracketing your hips and one of his arms is crossed over your front.
He smooths your hair back and brushes it out of the way, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a sigh. He nuzzles your shoulder with his cheek. When you glance at him from the corner of your eye, you realize his eyes are closed.
“How do you feel?” you ask him in a near-whisper.
He turns his head towards you, humming in contemplation. You can feel his warm breath on your neck. “I should be asking you that,” he replies. He’s dodging your question.
You turn to face him properly - or as much as he allows with his arm still wrapped around you. “You were very upset with Solomon earlier,” you remind him. “You didn’t seem like yourself.”
Asmo’s eyes are open and they flash at the mention of the sorcerer’s name. “Did I frighten you?” 
You shake your head because it wasn’t fear you felt in that moment. “No, I wasn’t scared of you. I was worried.”
Asmo rests his forehead against your shoulder and sighs. “I don’t think you understand how hard it is when–“ he starts to say, then he makes a frustrated noise in his throat. "I don't like it when someone else hurts you.”
Asmo is protective of you the way all the other demon brothers are, so his answer doesn’t surprise you. But you’ve known for a while now that something between you has changed, like there’s some gap neither of you are able to cross. Most of the time he seems like himself - carefree, happy, excited by all the wonderful things in the world that he loves. When he’s not himself, his eyes are cold and his tone is sharp.
Sometimes you forget that Asmo’s capable of rage or violence as much as his brothers are, even though he tries not to show you that side of him. The anger in his eyes earlier when he faced off against Solomon in your defense was very real. You’re surprised he didn’t shift into his demon form; perhaps he would have if you hadn’t gotten him out of there in time.
“Does this have to do with what happened a few months ago?” you ask hesitantly.
His body freezes for a split second but it’s enough for you to notice. His arm tightens around you ever so slightly.
“We never did talk about that, did we?” he sighs. He sounds nervous, uncertain - you know he’s trying to avoid having this conversation with you, but you don’t know why. 
“No, but maybe we should. I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I’m worried about you - and not just today. You’ve been…” you gesture vaguely with your hand, “…different lately. After what happened.”
The water is still warm but it feels like you’ve both overstayed your welcome. Asmo relaxes his hold on you and leans over to grab a towel for himself. He stands and quickly dries himself off. The boxer briefs he wears leave little to the imagination when the water-soaked fabric sticks to his skin. Your cheeks burn when you turn away quickly to give him privacy, and you hear him chuckle under his breath.
He sets the towel over his shoulder and grabs a second one for you. He holds it open in front of him and you stand quickly, stepping out of the pool and letting him wrap you in the towel like a blanket.
He tips your face up with a finger under your chin and looks into your eyes. He leans closer and his eyes dart to your lips for the briefest moment. Before you can even ask what he’s doing, he shakes his head and gestures for you to follow him to his room.
You dry yourself off quickly while he steps into the privacy of his walk-in closet. Your RAD uniform is in a crumpled pile somewhere and you wait for him to return, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself so you don’t get cold.
Asmo steps out of his closet wearing a bathrobe that’s tied loosely at his waist. You catch brief glimpses of his bare thighs when he walks towards you; it’s obvious he’s not wearing anything underneath. He hands you a spare bathrobe to put on as well, and he collects the discarded towels and tosses them in the laundry hamper while you shrug the robe onto your shoulders. 
Asmo lays on his bed above the covers, sinking into the pile of ornamental pillows against his headboard. He raises his arm invitingly and you settle on the bed beside him, tucking yourself under his arm and letting your head rest against his shoulder. One of your hands is on his chest and he covers it with his own.
He peppers the top of your head with a few brief, barely-there kisses then sighs warily. He’s delayed this conversation long enough.  “What would you like to ask first?”
You think back to nearly three months ago when a loud slam woke you up in the middle of the night. A yell echoed down the hall from your room and it prompted you to get out of bed quietly and tiptoe outside. What if someone was hurt? you worried at the time. The sound of hushed, frantic voices led you to the front hallway. 
“Asmo?” you whisper, staring at the demon you barely recognized. Blood was splattered across his arms and face, his clothes stained and torn. He was speaking to Lucifer, but his eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away again. You took a hesitant step towards him, but Mammon appeared out of nowhere, blocking Asmo from view and gently pushing you back towards your room.
“You can talk to him tomorrow,” he said quietly, glancing at his brothers over his shoulder. “He wouldn’t want you to see him like this.”
“What happened that night when I saw you in the foyer?” you ask.
“Diavolo finally agreed with Lucifer’s recommendation that the demon bothering you should be expelled from RAD.” Asmo hides his smirk in your hair. “Lucifer decided his punishment deserved a personal touch, so he sent me on behalf of the student council to make sure he went back to the corner of hell he came from. He might’ve been a little worse for wear, but in one piece.” Mostly one piece, anyway.
“Why did Lucifer ask you to do it?” you wonder, looking at him curiously. A thought suddenly occurs to you, and you push up so you can look at him properly. “Does that have to do with the fight you two had?” You weren’t sure what happened, but in the days leading up to that night, Lucifer and Asmo barely seemed to get along; they ignored each other at mealtimes and exchanged icy glares when they were forced to speak about official school business.
Asmo smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course it does,” he says. “You tried to hide it from us, but I knew that demon was harassing you. I was worried about you but Lucifer insisted on following protocol. I found his lack of urgency frustrating.”
“I think we need to reconsider allowing the new student to study at RAD,” Asmo said from his seat in Lucifer’s office, his voice quiet and serious. 
Lucifer sighed warily. It wasn’t the first time Asmo spoke to him of his concerns regarding the new demon on campus but his accusations were vague and unsubstantiated. “I already told you that my hands are tied unless he does something actionable.” When Asmo opened his mouth to argue, Lucifer added quickly, “something actionable with proof.”
But something in Asmo’s tense expression made Lucifer hesitate. “What’s wrong?”
Asmo shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. That demon is dangerous.” He doesn’t say that he’s terrified something bad might happen, that he might not be there in time to save you if it does.
Lucifer leaned back and rubbed his tired eyes with the palms of his hands. “I believe you, but Diavolo needs some sort of evidence to justify expulsion if we want to to avoid any political repercussions. Your intuition simply isn't enough.”
Asmo stood from the chair with a frown and strode away. “If you don’t do something about him now, it could be too late.” He pulled the door open and glared at Lucifer over his shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he snarled before slamming the door closed behind him.
Asmo pulls you against him and rolls you both over. When you’re both laying on your sides, he wraps an arm around your waist. He smiles when you copy him. 
“I thought it was something I could handle on my own,” you finally admit outloud. “I hoped things would get better with time. I didn’t want to involve anyone else if I didn’t have to.”
But since you didn’t tell Asmo about anything that was going on, you still have to wonder, ”How did you know what was going on if I didn't tell anyone?”
Asmo cuddles a bit closer to you and his eyes slip closed when he tightens his hold on you. “Call it a hunch.”
Mammon tried to explain it to you during your early days as an exchange student. You were curious about Asmo’s fixation on beautiful things - including himself. “It’s not just about beauty or sex with him - it’s about passion. Anger, hatred - he can sense those feelings too but that sorta passion’s ugly to him. That's why he focuses on the feelings that make him feel good. That’s why when he sets his mind to something, he puts in everything he’s got, every time. It’s all or nothin’ with that guy. He doesn’t do half measures.”
It was fortunate that you were still at RAD the day things spiraled out of control. The demon that was bullying you had you cornered in an otherwise empty classroom. He pushed your shoulders against the stone wall and hissed with explicit details how he planned to decorate the room with your insides. Despite all your power and education, you froze in the face of real danger. You were naive to think that there weren’t demons left in the Devildom that would still want to harm you.
Whatever the demon was about to do next was interrupted when the classroom door opened suddenly. The passerby yelled for help and within moments the demon was pulled off you. You slumped to the ground, overwhelmed by the adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins. 
Afterwards, you would remember it was Asmo who picked you up and carried you to the infirmary, who sat at your side and held your hand while you were examined for injuries. It was Asmo who slept in your bed that night to help fend off bad dreams, who stayed home with you the next day while Diavolo and Lucifer finished their investigation.
You had all the pieces to explain what happened, the truth that you were too blind to see: it was Asmo that asked to carry out the demon's punishment because he threatened to kill you.
“What have you done?” Lucifer snapped angrily when he confronted Asmo in the front hallway. He expected his brother home hours ago.
“I did as you asked,” Asmo said in an eerily calm, detached voice. “He’s on his way back to the outer ring and we won’t have to see him ever again.” 
Lucifer grabbed Asmo’s arm when he tried to walk away. “When I gave you permission to do this, I stated very clearly the limitations of what you could and could not do. We all feel the way you do, but–”
“I warned you this would happen!” Asmo cried, aura burning as his rage flared. He quieted himself, remembering the late time and not wanting to wake the others, or you. “He’s still alive. If I ever see him again, he won’t be so lucky.”
You knew Asmo was a powerful demon - he was a demon prince of the Devildom, after all - but you never realized his potential for anger or violence could match the intensity of his love and admiration for the things he held most dear. It overwhelmed you to think that he considered you something worth protecting.
But the more you thought about it, the more you realized you underestimated the depth of his feelings for you. He tried to tell you so many times in so many ways that you were important to him. He brought his manicure kit to your room so he could do his nails while you did your homework. When you finished, he would reward you by doing your nails too. He invited you on spontaneous trips to Majolish or your favourite cafe, refusing your offers to pay for the gifts he bought for you. He was always trying to take your photo, or he’d pull you to his side for selfies together. When you asked him why none of the photos ended up on Devilgram like most of his other pictures, he just winked and said he wanted to keep those pictures for himself.
He teased you playfully if other demons tried to ask you out, and he even encouraged you to accept sometimes - not that you ever had interest in any of those other demons, and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from giving you his usual pep talk before all of the dances you were invited to attend at Diavolo’s castle or The Fall:
“If anyone tries anything with you that you don’t like, blast them with some of that magic of yours. Or better yet, summon me and I’ll take care of it. No matter where I am, I’ll come to you. I promise.”
The realization dawns upon you and you feel like you’re drowning, emotions choked by the truth you’ve always known about his feelings for you, and your feelings for him.
“How long have you felt this way about me?” you ask him, your whispered voice breaking. 
When he opens his eyes, they begin to glow as he gazes at you with so much love - it’s hard to breathe. His cheeks flush just the slightest bit pink when his lips slowly tick up in a small smile. “Oh, my precious darling, when have I not?”
You bury your head against his chest to hide the tears spilling down your cheeks. You’re sobbing and shaking your head, whispering apologies over and over again while your fingers clench the silky material of his robe.
“It’s alright,” Asmo says quietly, his hand rubbing your back in an effort to calm you. “I’m here. Everything is going to be fine from now on, I promise.”
You look at him through blurry, red-rimmed eyes when he pushes you back gently so he can see your face. “But y-you did all that for me and I didn’t know. Or I-I-I think I knew but I pretended I didn’t. Things have felt so off between us and it’s my fault. If I wasn’t so weak, maybe I could’ve—“
Asmo frowns slightly and puts a finger to your lips to quiet you. “Nothing that happened was your fault. I did what I needed to do to keep you safe. I’ll save you as many times as I have to.” He cradles the back of your head and leans forward to brush his lips against your brow.
“I love you,” he says when he lowers his head and kisses your cheek.
“And I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he whispers when his nose brushes against yours and he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth.
The kiss is soft enough that you can ignore it, giving you the chance to turn away, to pretend it didn’t happen. He’s giving you an out, you realize. But when you’re this close, all you can see is the faint glow of his clementine eyes.
The kiss you offer him in return is soft and sweet.
His eyes flutter closed as he moans quietly, and the way he tilts his head so he can slot his mouth against yours reminds you this isn’t a dream. 
“Please,” he murmurs repeatedly against your lips. The quiet, needy pleas are muffled but you understand him perfectly.
When you nod, he doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, groaning when his lips move against yours harder and with more urgency. When you part your lips, he licks into your mouth, moaning between swipes of his tongue like he’s devouring you, starved for everything you can give him. His hand slides down your body, squeezing your waist gently before he pulls you tighter against him like he’s trying to blur the lines where you end and he begins.
When you start to roll onto your back, Asmo follows without hesitation, sliding a knee between your thighs and pressing his chest against yours. His kisses become sloppy and the soft, wet sounds are punctuated by your breathy moans.
You’re able to touch him more easily in this position and you tentatively skim your hands along his arms and across his shoulders until your fingers find purchase in his hair. There’s a rumbling noise that vibrates in his chest, and when you tug on his hair with just a bit more force, he breaks the kiss with a groan that makes the dull throb between your legs ache with need.
His hands are everywhere when he drags his lips across your jaw and down your neck. He’s panting between fiery, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. When he latches into the junction between your neck and shoulder and sucks with just a hint of teeth, you gasp.
He hums when he pulls back slightly to admire the mark he’s left on your skin. He raises himself up on his hands so he can look at you properly. You take the opportunity to explore him too, hands sliding down his chest slowly until they settle at his waist. You feel him shudder at your touch. 
“I should be doing this properly,” he says suddenly. When you tilt your head in confusion, he explains, “getting dolled up for you, taking you out for a romantic dinner, seducing you afterwards.” He grins when you flush with embarrassment, but his smile falters after a moment when his gaze pierces yours. “You deserve that. I can give you that if you want. We don’t have to go any further tonight if you’re not ready.”
You cup his cheek. “Do you want to stop?” you ask curiously.
He turns his head so he can kiss the inside of your wrist. “Fuck, no,” he breathes, shaking his head. His hair falls over his eyes, totally unkempt. He’s beautiful like this.
Earlier it was hard to ignore the weight of his cock hardening against your hip, the stilted movements when he kept himself from grinding against you while you kissed. It makes you feel less self-conscious of your own desire, the way his pleased sounds made you feel hot with need. The insides of your thighs are damp with slick and you’re desperate for some kind of friction against your clit. You’ve been clenching around nothing, secretly wanting him to fill you but not having the courage to ask for more. 
“I want you too,” you whisper, staring into his eyes and it feels like you’re finally being honest, trying not to let fear ruin the promise of what his love can offer you. You’re emboldened by the way his eyes are smoldering when he looks at you, the way you’re both trembling with need and the way your voices shake with so much emotion. You don’t want him to have any doubts about how you feel about him or about how desperately you want him too.
He only hesitates a moment before he pushes himself to his knees. One of his knees is still wedged between your thighs, not quite close enough to give you the friction to grind yourself against him. He undoes the knot holding his robe closed and slides it off his shoulders. The sight of his naked chest leaves you breathless.
Your eyes roam across his smooth, unblemished skin. Your fingers grasp the blanket when you feel the itch to grab him and pull him back down. You’re close to begging for him to touch you, and something must flicker across your expression because his gaze darkens. The sweet, somewhat bashful tilt to his lips sharpens into something a little more hungry. 
He leans down, one hand clenching the sheets for balance while he slips his other arm between your bodies. You feel his fingers pull at the thin fabric of your robe and pry it apart and the sudden chill causes goosebumps to spread across your exposed skin. You resist the urge to cover your breasts when you feel your nipples harden. 
“You’re lovely,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, I can barely stand it.” You tilt your head back when his nose grazes along your jaw and he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin below your ear. He pulls your earlobe between his teeth and tugs, licking the skin in a mock apology when you gasp and arch your back against his chest.
“I bet you say that to all your dates,” you whimper. His desire is intoxicating but you can feel the self-doubts bubbling over, your inhibitions threatening to spill from your lips and ruin everything. Before you can say anything else, Asmo sighs his head and tilts your head so you’re forced to look him in the eye.
“None of that matters anymore, not when I finally have you,” he says quietly, like it’s some sort of oath. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He gives you a hard, quick kiss. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.”
He shuffles closer and his cock hangs heavy against you. The tip is dribbling precum and it feels warm and sticky on your thigh. His head tilts back with a moan and he slowly rubs against you, painting your skin with his desire and leaving no room for doubt that he wants you.
You can’t stop yourself from reaching for him and you pull him closer as you spread your legs invitingly. “Asmo, please–”
He growls quietly and in an instant his lips are around one of your nipples while his hand snakes back down between your bodies. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud, and he sucks it into his mouth at the same time his long fingers dip between your folds. Your hips jolt when he brushes against your clit, puffy and wet with your desire and it’s all for him.
Asmo moans around your nipple when he feels the wetness between your legs. He kisses across your breasts as he starts grinding against you a bit harder than before.
“You’re almost ready for me, aren’t you?” he asks, amazed by how utterly perfect you are, bare and needy under him. He licks his lips and you can see a hint of his fangs when he grins.
The way he looks at you makes you squirm underneath him. You move your hips and try to chase his fingers as he explores the soft skin of your folds. The delicious pressure of his fingertips rubbing against your clit is enough to make your thighs quake. You feel the beginnings of your release, but you whine when he suddenly moves his fingers away. Before you can ask him to touch you again, he slips a finger inside you and the sudden fullness makes you groan. 
He’s hypnotized by the way your body moves in tandem with his, arching your back and undulating your hips as he pumps his finger inside. He’s being slow and deliberate, studying your face for every reaction, and when he adds another finger he thrusts them both in deep. You take the intrusion so well, like your body was made to be his, and he knows you're close when your moans pitch higher and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets.
“You feel so perfect around my fingers,” he murmurs, watching with half-lidded eyes as his fingers move faster in and out of you. He bites his lip when he feels you clench around him, and he’s nearly mad with the desire to have you finally wrapped around his cock. “You’re so responsive.” He strokes your clit with his thumb as his fingers stretch and tease your gummy walls, crooking his fingers inside you like he’s inviting you to sin.
The sensations drive you to the edge and you’re chasing your release, eyes closed and swallowing thickly after you choke on a moan that sounds suspiciously like his name. “I want you so badly,” you beg, and your voice sounds breathy and pathetic to your ears but you can feel the heat of his gaze on you when your body tightens around him. He keeps brushing over that spot inside that feels so good and you don’t want the feeling to stop, you want more. “I want you to come inside me, I want–” 
You cry out as the orgasm crashes through you out of nowhere, wave after unrelenting wave of pleasure setting your body ablaze as his greedy fingers coax every last breathy moan from your lips. He savors the way your body flutters around him, like you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his fingers still pumping inside you but your pretty little hole’s too greedy to let him go.
Asmo finally pulls his hand away when you try to clench your thighs closed to stop him from teasing your oversensitive nerves. He sits back on his heels and waits patiently while you catch your breath. Your skin glistens lightly with sweat and he can’t stop staring at you.
When you finally open your eyes, he brings his slick-soaked fingers to his mouth, licking your essence from his fingertips before sucking them both into his mouth greedily. Once they’re clean, he releases them with a quiet pop.
“You taste delicious,” he coos appreciatively. He’s so tempted to dive between your legs, to lap up every last drop of slick that clings to your folds. He wants to breathe in your intoxicating scent until it’s seared into his memory forever, to plunder your hole with his tongue until you can’t possibly give him more. 
But as much as Asmo wants to make himself a new home between your legs buried tongue-deep inside you, or to pull you on top of him so you can grind against his face so he’s drenched in your slick, he knows that will have to wait until next time.
He’s been with hardly anyone else since what happened a few months ago. He was overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings for you - the fear of losing you, the need to claim you properly - and it sent him into a tailspin. He tried to pretend there was nothing wrong and he went to his usual haunts, but he didn’t want any of those other demons: none of them were you. 
Now that he has you, he’s not sure anything can possibly be better than this: the way you looked swept away by pleasure; your loud, high-pitched sounds like music to his ears; and the way you fucked yourself on his fingers and begged for his cock inside you - it’s too much temptation for even the Avatar of Lust to bear. 
When the sensitivity has ebbed and you’ve caught your breath, you let your thighs fall open again and Asmo doesn’t hesitate to shuffle between them properly. His cock bumps against you and when he lowers himself to his forearms above you, he teases you with the glide of his cock along your folds. He rolls his hips slightly so that the tip of his cock grazes your clit and then he pushes even lower, letting the head of his cock tease at your hole. He adds just enough pressure at your entrance that promises more, and that has you moaning in anticipation and spreading your legs even wider for him.
You lift your thighs so they rest against his hips to keep him in place, to encourage him to come even closer, to fill you so you never feel empty again.
His head tips back and soft sighs fall from his lips when he finally pushes inside. Neither of you seem to care about the way your body squelches obscenely with the slow drag of his cock along your walls. It’s a smooth glide until he finally bottoms out and he moans, but he blinks his eyes open rapidly, surprised at the sudden wetness clinging to his eyelashes. One of your hands is clutched to his back, the sharp grip of your fingernails a delightful mixture of pleasure and pain.
You cup his face with your other hand and wipe away the rogue tears that roll down his cheek. “I love you so much,” you say in a quiet, shaky voice, because there’s nothing more perfect you can say in this moment, not when his body cages yours and you feel so utterly wanted. When his cock twitches eagerly inside you, you wonder why it took so long to do this together; it feels like you were both fighting inevitability.
He nuzzles against your hand and kisses your palm before he rolls his hips with a few shallow, exploratory strokes. You both moan, and your other hand leaves his cheek so you can grasp onto his shoulder to brace yourself.
Asmo bites his lip when he rocks into you again. “You feel—“ he breaks off with a groan, wincing when your walls squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good, I don’t think I’m going to last.” 
Despite the pleasure gripping his senses, he feels the faintest ripple of embarrassment too. He’s worried about disappointing you after finally getting to have you after all this time. The longing for you festered so deep within him that even touching someone that wasn’t you didn’t really satisfy him anymore. He’s overcome by his desire for you even though he tried to ignore it, because he didn’t know if you wanted him, if you were ready for what he wanted to give you so badly—
But you breathe out his name and the unabashed lust in your eyes is unmistakable. You’re panting lightly, wetting your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue and he tracks the movement greedily. “I just want you,” you say when you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him even deeper. 
That’s all the invitation Asmo needs. He braces himself on his hands and starts to move inside you with slow, controlled thrusts. The heat of your walls wrapped around his cock and your soft, needy moans and whimpers overwhelm his senses, and it’s hard to maintain the gentle rocking of his hips against yours when he feels the tethers of his self-control start to snap.
He puts more power into his movements, answering your whimpered pleas for him to fuck you, to give it to you harder and faster. You’re not commanding him, but you don’t have to; he obeys willingly with the rough snap of his hips as he fucks you into his mattress. He growls approvingly when you toss your head back in submission and pleasure, whining and choking on the moans he drags out of you with every push and pull of his cock claiming you from the inside-out.
The bed frame creaks from the force of his thrusts and the headboard bangs against the wall, but Asmo doesn't care, not when it feels like you’re both teetering on the edge of an abyss and he’s so close to falling. He’s determined to drag you down with him.
“Touch yourself,” he whispers in a rough voice when he feels his orgasm approaching.  “I want you to come with me.” He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so desperate, but you reach between your bodies and start stroking your clit in time with his powerful thrusts. Your body clenches around him almost immediately and your back arches, and his cock is suddenly enveloped with even more slickness when you come for him a second time, his name falling from your lips in a broken cry.
He can’t possibly last after that and he doesn’t want to, and your pleasure rips the orgasm from him and he cries out when he spills inside you, marking you as his in a way no one else possibly can. His hips stutter as his thrusts become sloppy and shallow, and the desperate haze clears from his mind when satisfied exhaustion takes its place.
You both groan when his softening cock finally slips from your body. He collapses at your side to avoid crushing you with his weight, and he pulls you against him. You’re both hot and sticky and the air smells like musk from sweat and sex. Asmo knows there’s a wet spot drying on his sheets where your slick and his come pooled between your thighs.
He knows you’re both exhausted, but he hasn’t felt this content in weeks.
You nuzzle into his shoulder and sigh, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. You’re still trembling slightly, but you melt into his embrace and it makes his throat thicken with emotion. 
“I think we need another bath,” you murmur sleepily. Your lips tickle where they graze his skin and he smiles.
“Later,” he promises and he wraps his arms around you. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispers.
Stay with me forever, he thinks and doesn’t say out loud. But when you nod and cuddle even closer to him before sleep claims you, Asmo believes he didn’t have to.
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privitivium · 3 months
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thinking about a closet-perverted feminine man whos very into leopard print, pink w/ chunky highlights who has the hots for you so badly in a way he's all confident around others but around you he's shy and awkward hngnghgh
i plan to actually make fics/oneshots with better punctuation overall instead of these short little ficlets,,,, but most of the time i be drained for no apparent reason. Wtfrick. i might rewrite this idea soon. tis rushed and sloppy, fast paced,, wrote in mostly one sitting,,, horrayy!!
;; masturbation,, he jerks you off. Is a creep
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Sampson.. he is not one to care for compliments from strangers nor friends, but still immensely appreciated the gesture.. a small, 'aw thaaanks!' in gratitude to those mentioned, but when you compliment him - it doesn't compare to the others, even if it is merely as simple as commenting on how cool his belly-button piercing isㅡ'uaah... thank you,,,' he would murmur more earnestly, his voice growing higher in pitch - an unconscious quirk he does when speaking to you,,,
he thinks coming off as more feminine overall would appeal to you - unaware of your sexual orientation despite asking around.. no one really cared to ask you and you didn't really care to tell people.. you didnt date anyone on campus or off campus, no long distance or anything! What was Sampson supposed to do with that information??? Was he supposed to assume you were a virgin or just not interested in anyone??? well,, rest assured, he's gonna fucking find out, mhm!!
Sampson's a perverted guy, alright? He can admit that. Warm tan and toned body completely bare and sprawled out on top of his sheets, haphazardly stroking along his length of his single apartment.. pink tip beading the pearlescent thickness he longs to imagine as yours, and he lathers his palm - mixing it with the fucking lotion that was apart of his "jerking off routine". stroking along his length at a slow pace, wanting to drag this out.. his lamp at a low tone, barely lighting up the room but just enough to see the naked bodies strung out along the magazine pages. he was just trying to find someone that looked like you,, wait ,, how could he be so stupid??
he pulls his sticky hand away from his cock lazily, tossing the magazine to the ground and hurriedly rushes for his phone - bringing up your social media.. you don't post alot, much to his distaste, but you still have pictures of you.. all by yourself, usually, much to his merriment!!! ending the session with a burst of hot, seed all over his hand and blanket, having his phone-holding hand up to his face like a little freak, merely admiring your form! you post yourself at the gym - posing for fellow gym bros and something else about receiving criticism in the caption.. not that he cared to read it during the moment, more focused on busting over himself.. ahem.
The next day, uneventful. No classes besides in the late afternoon, caught up with everything.. nothing to do.. so he decides to do what he usually does. Stalk his gallery full of pictures of you. Various taken with consent, some without.. merely admiring, while sipping on an iced coffee with pink glossy lips.. he styles himself as every other day to impress you… he found that lavender colors are more appealing to you - which he was currently dressed in accompanied with low-rise skinny jeans that were practically compressing his genitals into his body.. his “chunky” highlighted hair parted to the side and tucked behind his ears and thoroughly straightened.. caught up in admiring himself, he was disturbed by the message from a friend.. inviting him out. What else did he have going on? besides admiring your pictures… it couldn't hurt, sampson supposed begrudgingly..
Imagine his excitement, when catching sight of you with your shared group of friends at the meetup spot!! Trying to hide his excitement and appear neutral as he neared the restaurant, and spotting a chair open next to you,, hurriedly, ahem, slowly, he makes his way toward the table full of friends and companions, indulging in meaningless conversation and questions about what to do for the day.. the others, a duo, complaining about having a day full of tutoring at theㅡ he didn't bother listening after that, more caught up in what you were adding to the conversation..
“Oh, yeah! If you don't have anything going on right now, why not come back with me?” You offer a half-grin that looked more like a half-smirk that made his heart tremble - friends knowingly glancing at each other and whispering incoherently with one another across the table. “Of course..!! I would love to...” Sampson grinned broadly, glossy lips stretched into a pretty smile,,
he was so excited,, being invited over by his crush - his future lover?? he could practically feel the swell of arousal building up underneath his low-rise jeans.. curse him and his skinny jeans! damn!
i mean, being brought to ur shared house where all ur housemates can promptly ogle him as he walked by, definitely made his heart tremble.. practically vibrating in excitement knowing that you were the one holding his hand and leading him up the staires carefully rather than anyone else,, it felt surreal,, leading him up to ur room as if you were leading him up the stairs to fuck after a night of drinking,,. he really needs to stop thinking like this. he has nothing to cover his future boner with+!!!
you showcase the hall - odd pictures and most certainly random trinkets decorating the interior and shelves... his heartbeat speeding up to a disgustingly uncomfortable pace, that still felt damn good, as you neared your bedroom at the end of the hall.
immediately began admiring your room, absolutely marveling. like woah,, this is the place where you jerk off?? and he then spends a moment imagining where and how you do it,, on the bed,, on the chair,, at the window,, an audible grunt leaves his lips as he shivers, shaking himself free of the thoughts in an attempts not to get a boner which you obviously take notice; innocently thinking the absolute innocent annoyingly enough, "oh, hey.." you frowned, eyes raking over sampson's figure briefly before stepping toward him, "are you cold?? here, have a blanket, man!" you grinned broadly, laughing softly as you reached over him; offering one of the throw blankets that were folded at the end of your bed..
“Thank you..!” He shivers, holding the blanket around his body akin to a tent,, hugging himself. “You're so thoughtful..” receiving a nod and a pat on the shoulder, before abruptly pulling away at the sound of a ding coming from your cellular device,,
Checking your phone and - “I'll be back real quick!..” you tell him, leaving the room and closing the door behind you,, immediately, he takes the time to snoop - reaching for under the bed. It's where he hides his stash, so why not look there first? And, how predictable.. a box, he pulls from underneath the bed and looks through its’ contents - your thundering footsteps nearing - and he sees that it's all,, pornography,, various polaroids of hardened dicks, yours, he recognizes funnily enough??
“What are you doing -??” Your worried voice breaks his focus, and how stupid of him,, “that's.. not cool..” you clear your throat while staring down, the door closed behind you, hurt and obviously embarrassed as you catch sight of what exactly is in his handsㅡprivate stuff, bro!!
“W-Wai-t!” His voice breaks, dropping the pictures carelessly as he springs up and makes his way toward you - trembling with a pretty ,, obvious bulge pressing against the fabric of his jeans. "j-just watch me.. just watch me. Please." Sampson breathes, hand ghosting over your jaw before tugging you gently toward your messy bed. Voice low and amber eyes half-lidded as he presses against your body, on top of you and - his knee finding its’ way in between your legs and lewdly compressing against your clothed soft cock.. the mere feeling of it sending waves of excitement through his smaller, stronger frame., he squirms against you, fiddling with your shirt but not making any move to pull it off.,,
“okay..! okay, no worries.. it-it's okay..” you choke out, concern washing over your lackadaisical expression and worry taking hold of your bold tone, observing sampson and fidgeting against him to get your crotch away when his knee presses against your dick - clothed or not.. you're sure he felt up the shape of your muscle.. your heart thumps against your chest and you're sure he feels that too-!! “I-I'll watch you do whatever..” You swallow thickly, a little unsure - remembering your friends downstairs.. the lock on the door..
Sampson's eyes, pupils blown wide as if he were on drugs as he stares up at you - being pressed against you sends butterflies through his belly, and he worries briefly about throwing up on you,, “i like you,, i like you so much..” he breathes out - jaw clenching shut as his lips thin, it was a mere slip of the tongue-!
“woah.. you like me??” Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise, a smile of disbelief slipping onto his lips, immediately forgetting what exactly you caught him doing - smile stretching wide as you place your hand along his shoulder, feeling the faux lavender underneath, certainly not minding being pressed against your bedroom wall by such a pretty man who was staring up at you with doe-like eyes..,,. “No way you like me..”
“ㅡGod, yes , I fucking like you.. i love you.. i- i have a crush on you, yes.” He corrects, not wanting to scare you off so suddenly - not wanting to ruin whatever the fuck was happening - and definitely not wanting to move away, unwilling to showcase his erection,, you probably felt it though.. and yet, you're not moving away, huh??? must be Sampson's lucky day.. “.. you wouldn't mind if i did,, this?” He punctuates his words with action, pursing his lips as he places his cupped hand along your groin - to which you jolt in surprise and merely staring at his pretty face, not yet moving - sampson's fingers experimentally worming around and finding the soft length of your cock over your comfortable pants.. “do you?” his breath hitches - face burning uncomfortably as he stares up at you, wide eyed as if shocked that he'd ever get so far..
Choking out a soft, “no..” ultimately unable to look him in the eye as you feel the swell of heat building up from Sampson's stimulation,,
“Fucking.. gorgeous.. so beautiful.” He would shudder out, voice breaking while his spit-covered hand wrapped around the base of your half-hard cock - unable to keep himself away from you - wondering what it'd feel like inside him ,, and he finds himself gripping your cock and squeezing at the tip, wanting to be as close as possible while he slowly jerks you off, humming in contentment while sitting on your lap with his nose buried in your neck and inhaling your scent - ever so slightly rocking his hips against your thigh. Never did he think that the day after masturbating, he'd be the one jerking you off and getting himself off on your thigh,,
“i'll give you some material to masturbate to so you won't have to use those magazines..” he'd tease breathlessly, somehow willing himself to voice his thoughts,, hrrmm
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