Tumgik
#could not resist to make my own version
ganondoodle · 2 months
Text
i really need to defeat the fear in my head that i am exactly the kind of villain fan that the vast majority seems to despise and that once it becomes clear im gonna get hunted down like i have been before
53 notes · View notes
Text
✨Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Headcanons✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sub/Switch and you know I'm right! He loves when you call the shots
In a more dominant role, he's extremely gentle, makes sure you're okay throughout
Kissing is a must with him, he loves the feeling of your lips! Your make out sessions could go on for a while
He explores your body with his hands as much as he can, touching every single inch of you. He loves your thighs and stomach the most, but he can never resist groping your tits and burying his face in them
It's extremely important to both of you that you're having fun and laughing, you love being silly together when doing the deed <3
Loves pet names!! For you, it's "(my) love", "sweetheart", "duckling", and "angel". For him, he likes to be called "baby", "good boy", and "Luci"
Loves marking you as his, be it hickies or gentle scratches, he loves knowing you're his (bites down on your neck and shoulder A LOT)
EXTREMELY SENSITIVE, this man gets hard from the slightest of touches! He gets embarrassed but you love it!
Around a 7-7.5 inch cock when hard, normal girth but veiny!
WILL EAT YOU OUT FOR HOURS!! I'm talking non-stop cunnilingus, he loves the taste of you and he loves you bringing you to multiple orgasms! Your moans turn him on to an unhealthy degree
Definitely more of a giver but will never turn down a blowjob from you, he gets SUPER red in the face when you look up at him while you suck him off
He's not extremely kinky but is willing to try most things at least once if you bring it up!
When subbing, he loves to watch you bounce on his cock, using him as you please.
Even with his sensitivity, he loves being edged, not being allowed to cum until you say so. He thrives on being brought to the edge only for you to stop moving and have him beg for you to let him cum (his whimpers are EVERYTHING)
He's very vocal! No just with his moans and whimpers, but he loves talking to you in the heat of the moment, king of whispering sweet nothings; "you feel so good, my angel", "my little duckling"
Pegging!!! He's scared to admit at first, but when he opens up about it, you're more than happy to oblige
Always has you cum first, making you feel good is the most important thing to him
When he thrusts into you, it always starts at a slow and gentle pace, only picking up speed when he's close to an orgasm
You always know when he's about to cum, he scrunches his face real tight and his breathing becomes very labored, your name is the only thing he can say
CREAMPIES BABY, all day every day, absolutely loves cumming inside you! He thinks it's super hot when you swallow his cum too
He has a very high sex drive when it comes to you, you could have multiple rounds a day and he's still want more of you!
Aftercare is everything! Cuddles are his favorite, he could be the big spoon or little spoon, depending on how he feels
He loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, peppering kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder, NEEDS to hold your hand and interlock your fingers
But he also loves being held, especially after subbing, he needs a lot of reassurance, he adores when you tell him how much you love him and care for him
Falling asleep in each other's arms is his own version of heaven <3
5K notes · View notes
thekitsunesiren · 3 months
Text
Dc x Dp #45
Danny becoming Jason's mom!
Because picture it! Jason, though been out of the Lazarus Pits for so long, fought against his entire being-his core! And because all of the fighting and resisting his new self caused it to repress into a smaller state. Thus, he had the core of a child, despite being an adult. It also doesn't help that he died as a child and clung unto his trauma.
But Jason didn't know this and continued with his former crime lord/vigilante lifestyle. Thinking that the rage pits was the only thing he had to be wary of and not what happens if he meets someone else that was from the Lazarus Pits or something similar.
He experienced this phenomenon when he took a walk through the park in his civilian attire as a change of pace and to clear his mind for the moment. The last mission he had with Bruce
As he walked, the sound of children laughter caused him to look up and see what was going on. In the park, two kids-siblings no doubt, were having a ball in the park simply chasing each other in their own version of tag. It was domestic enough to smile softly at the sight, a quiet chuckle escaping him.
Jason looked around to see if their parents were around watching them. And right on a bench was no doubtedly their parent. With black hair that seem to gleam in the direct light and blue eyes that seemed to be an impossible shade of blue. And those eyes were fondly watching the children laying around the park on their own.
Suddenly, Jason found himself under the heavy gaze of those eyes. Fondness turning to curiosity and hostility to longer he stared.
Snapping out his thoughts, he believed it was best to make a bit of small talk after no doubt seeming like a creep staring at them so intently.
Casually, or trying to seem casual, Jason approached them keeping his shoulders lax as not to seem as not too much of a threat. But the closer he got, the more this unfamiliar feeling bubbled within his chest. It wasn't the blinding rage that he usually associated with the pit. No, it was something different. Something positive.
It felt like a bubbling warmth that had the pits screaming for more. That the warmth was there. This person would take care of them. This person could help with the pits. This person was his-
"Momma." Jason murmured as he stared at the male, eyes widening with mortification as he realized that he said that out loud for the person to hear. He also realized that the pits had him in such a daze that he didn't realize that he had walked right over and sat next to the mystery person without a second thought.
Jason waited for them to react. To be called a creep or for them to storm away after gathering their children from where they were playing. Hell, he even expected them to scream and hit him in some manner.
Instead, he was met with eyes of confusion as well. The person beside him tilting their head as if debating something.
Then, Jason would've thought he imagined it if he wasn't looking at them, his eyes flashed green. The familiar pit green that Jason hated seeing. But his green held no anger or hatred that he was familiar with.
After their eyes returned to their icy blue, the person gave Jason an understanding smile. As if they knew why he called them that.
"Well, you're a bit older than my kids, but I'm sure we could work this out." The person said with a chuckle, reaching up and affectionately patting his shoulder. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
Jason felt as if his mouth dry as thought of how to answer. Was this weird? How could they be so calm about him walking up and calling them momma? Was this something pit related? How did this person know about the pits?
"Jason, mo-" He bit his lip as the name momma almost slipped out again. Instead, he coughed into his hand before looking at them again. "It's Jason."
The person chuckled affectionately at his hesitance. "Jason." The repeated with a fond smile. The way they said his name causing a familiar warmth to flutter in his chest that he hasn't felt in a while.
"I bet momma is a bit sudden since we just met and all." The person teased, smiling up at him. "But instead you're free to call me Danny if you want."
2K notes · View notes
love-belle · 8 months
Text
you got me thinking nonsense !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which heartbreak led to her real love and she'd be damned if she didn't make sure everyone knows that.
or
for when they're everything to you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
prequel - light as a feather ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - posting this i simply couldn't resist!!! i'll try my HARDEST to post carlos' version of shout out to my ex tonight but if not then tomorrow fs <3 thank u so much for reading, i love u <3
taglist - @marsdreamworld @eviethetheatrefreak @22yuki @incoherenciass @bb-swift @willowpains @lordperceval-16 (tagging all those who asked for part ii <3)
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, f1updates, exwagsclub and 79,726 others
paddock.club y/n y/l/n and charles leclerc spark dating rumours as they were seen out on a "date", which were further confirmed as the couple shared a kiss. for weeks, y/l/n and leclerc have been having coy and not-so-platonic interactions on social media and fans have speculated that these two are more just friends. this news comes after y/n's break up with a fellow driver of charles and while neither y/n or her ex have commented on this, it's clear that they didn't have a clean break up as there were rumours of cheating surrounding the ex. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
tagged charles_leclerc yourusername
589 comments
username LMFAOAOOA THE WAY LANDO ISN'T EVEN MENTIONED HERE
username "the ex" ur so right he's not worth mentioning 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
username olivia was talking abt lando when she sang "some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning"
*liked by oliviarodrigo*
username my true parents fr ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username she looks sooo happy with him im so happy for her
username love how none of yes are surprised like we all saw this coming
username the way l*ndo isn't even mentioned ONCE like that's what u get for cheating babes!!!!!!!!!
username CHARLES AND Y/N FUCK YEA
username she genuinely looks so much happier with charles like this is the type of relationship she deserved ❤️
username IM ❤️ SO ❤️ HAPPY ❤️ FOR ❤️ THEM ❤️
username no bc there was no way they thought that they'd be able to convince us that they weren't together
username istg i see one person comment some out of pocket shit im SWINGING
username l*ndo's crying rn like i can Feel it
username no bc HOW'D he pull 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username fr like u put him near y/n he starts malfunctioning
-> username no bc that one interview where he forgot his own team's name js bc y/n walked past him is LIVING proof
username i know the driver's gc is WILDIN rn
username see now idk who to be jealous of
-> username the only correct answer is both
username no bc IMAGINE THE SONGS SHE'LL WRITE ABOUT HIM!!!!!!
username pretty people (y/n and charles) ruining it for the ugly people (me) by getting together
username oh so he got GAME
username everyone bffr y/n was probably the one who took the initiative
username guys stop with all the l*ndo slander comments i can't like them all
username charles leclerc i will never forgive u for taking my wife
username im sooooOOOOooo normal about this. ha fucking ha.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,792,712 others
yourusername nonsense is now yours!!! i wrote this song on my very close friend's bedroom's floor and i can officially say that this is the most unhinged song i have ever written :) i love u all sooo much i could cry <3 (charles_leclerc be my personal photographer pls ❤️)
15,628 comments
username HELLO?????? PLEASE IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS SONG AND WHY IS IT MAKING ME CRY AND HORNY
username IM TALKIN OPPOSITE OF SOFT?????? Y/N?????????
username nah she's unhinged
username "on my very close friend's bedroom's floor" BABE WE KNOW
username how quickly can u take ur clothes off pop quiz 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔
-> username oh she's wild for adding this
username IN LOVE WITH THE OUTRO
username PLEASE touch some grass and meditate
georgerussell63 wish i never heard it but cool beats x
-> yourusername i too wish u never heard it but thank u russell george x
username i know sebastian texted her after this
*liked by yourusername*
username okayyyy so at least he's winning off the track
-> username OH UR SO WRONG FOR THIS
username at least my girl's getting some good dick y'all leave her alone
username im a changed woman after hearing this song
username u gotta keep up with me!!!!! i got some young energy!!!!!!! i caught the l-o-v-e!!!! why do u do this to me!!!!!!!
username i know charles is blasting the SHIT out of this sin anthem (encouraging)
-> username PLEASE NOT SIN ANTHEM
lilymhe when will you write a song like this about me :/
-> yourusername if u would like i can show u????
-> lilymhe i'm On my way!
-> alex_albon STOP I'M STILL HERE
-> yourusername alex look away
-> charles_leclerc i'm
-> yourusername u too babe look AWAY
-> username BABE
-> username DID SHE JS CONFIRM IT FR FR
username said u like my eyes????? AND u like to make them roll??????
-> username if someone said that to me i would be AT the altar in most white dress ever
username charles won at life fr
username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABT HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS IN THESE PHOTOS
-> username my heart stopped she's so barbie coded
charles_leclerc nice song
-> yourusername thank u
charles_leclerc any particular muse behind this?
-> yourusername js this cool guy i've been seeing
-> charles_leclerc "cool" huh? 😏😏😏😏🤪🤪🤪🤪🤗🤗🤗🤗🫡🫡🫡🫡🥶🥶🥶🥶😩😩😩😩🤧🤧🤧🤧☺️☺️☺️☺️😘😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰🥰😚😚😚😚
-> yourusername yes charles u are cool
-> username MY GOD SOMEONE TAKE AWAY THIS MAN'S PHONE
-> username y/n be honest does he blush and giggle when u call him a pet name????
-> yourusername what do u think
-> username I KNEW IT OMG
charles_leclerc if the person in front of the camera is you, i will gladly be behind the camera for the rest of my life.
-> yourusername the most romantic thing u have ever said to me
-> charles_leclerc that's not true
-> yourusername u called me a chameleon yesterday
-> charles_leclerc because you wear a different shade of eye colour everyday
-> yourusername eye shadow* baby
-> charles_leclerc okay :D
-> username WHO IS THIS MAN
-> username nah he's GONE for her
≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 1,538,976 others
charles_leclerc she wrote a song for me and while it wasn't the most romantic one, the sentiment is still appreciated. y/n, i adore you completely, even if you spend more time with my mom than you do with me. mon cœur ❤️ ( my heart )
tagged yourusername
12,629 comments
username im
username js gonna leave yeah (ABSHDHDJSJJSSJ)
username what do u MEAN charles is in love and what do u MEAN that it's not with me (i love them both sm)
username okayyyy she wrote how much she loves u and ur little thing that's the MOST romantic thing ever
-> username nah bestie given the way she wrote the song im not it's *little*
*liked by yourusername*
-> username GIRL PLEASE WHY ARE U LURKING
username i love them both so much
carlossainz55 you two make me nauseous but it's been a long time coming 🤍 happy for you both !!
-> charles_leclerc thank you for your approval <3
-> carlossainz55 had to make sure you'd treat her better 🤷
-> username "treat her better" is speaking VOLUMES
-> username i love carlos so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username y/n being the grid's favourite is my aesthetic 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
username I LOVE THEM SOOO MUCH THEY'RE MY PARENTS LIKE AJSJSKSKSJKSKKS
username "mon cœur" can u hear me SCREAMING 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username they genuinely deserve all the happy things in life like im SO fr
username ferrari better get their shit in order bc i know that if they fuck up again y/n is fr gonna destroy them and idk if that's gonna be by words or by a song or she's straight up gonna fist fight them
*liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and carlossainz55*
danielricciardo at least she writes you songs, she writes me threatening messages
-> yourusername U CALLED ME THAT MCDONALD'S CLOWN
-> charles_leclerc i'm not gonna intervene
-> danielricciardo BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE
-> yourusername THAT'S JS CHARLES NOT ME
-> charles_leclerc i am going to intervene
username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ about them
username i just fell to the floor what the fuck
username IM SOOOOOOOOO *cries*
lewishamilton 🫶🏼
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username i KNOW lando is pulling at his hair rn
username THAT NOTE OH MY GOD
username pls god when will it be me
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
yourusername wdym "u said u like my eyes and u like to make em roll" is not romantic
-> charles_leclerc the most romantic thing i have ever heard in my eye
-> yourusername ❤️
yourusername i love ur mom
-> charles_leclerc i know
-> leclerc_pascale mon ange 😘
-> yourusername MAMA LECLERC ❤️❤️❤️
-> charles_leclerc and i'm right here...
yourusername cannot wait to write songs for u my entire life
-> charles_leclerc cannot wait to compose piano pieces for you 😘
-> username IM SCREAMING
-> username WHAT DO U MEAN HE COMPOSES PIANO PIECES FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username they're so
username i would give anything to have a love like that 😭😭😭😭😭
username im crying.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, lilymhe and 2,975,327 others
yourusername looking at u got me thinking nonsense!!!!!!!!!!! also special thanks to landonorris bc if not for him i wouldn't have met the love of my life so thanks dude even if ur a prepubescent piece of shit
tagged charles_leclerc
18,629 comments
username IM HOWLING WHAT THE FUCK
username THE TAG THE CAPTION
username prepubescent piece of shit will forever be engraved in my brain ❤️
username LMFAOAOAOAO
username y/n y/m/n y/l/n u will always be famous
username IM CRYINF WHAT THEBFUCK
lewishamilton both of you 💕
-> yourusername we love u lewis <3
username she will never let l*ndo live in peace and i love her sm for that
username i just cackled out loud why is she so funny
username SHE'S SOOOO UNSERIOUS
username i js know charles is MADLY in love with her bc HOW can u not be
username she's so unhinged. i love her.
username screaming
lilymhe i thought we were something
-> yourusername babygirl u own my heart and 4ever will
-> alex_albon wow.
-> charles_leclerc oh my god
username they're so adorable 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username THEM
username no bc charles deffo manifested this shit like imagine having a crush on someone for YEARS and then they date ur friend but the friend cheats on them and u end up together like woahh wildddd
-> username and then they write a song about u
-> username AND THEN THEY WRITE A SONG ABOUT U
oscarpiastri a scream just erupted from *his* driver's room
*liked by yourusername*
-> username target audience reached 🫡
username stop with the l*ndo hate comments i seriously CANNOT like them all
username i would do anything to go to a driver's meeting ANYTHING
maxverstappen1 nice caption
-> yourusername thank u :) an angry dutch proof read this
username max proof reading this caption is sooo funny like omg
-> username they're truly destroying his peace and i respect them so much
username i truly cannot wait for the next race
username NO BC DID SOMEONE SEE THAT CLIP WHERE NONSENSE PLAYED IN THE PADDOCK WHILE LANDO WAS THERE AND HE LOOKED SO 😒😒😒😒😒😒
-> username LMFAOAOAOA THAT WAS HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY
-> username truly a cinematic piece ❤️
charles_leclerc was the first photo necessary
-> yourusername absolutely like look at my man ❤️
charles_leclerc looking at YOU got ME thinking nonsense
-> yourusername stop im blushing
charles_leclerc i thought we'd be nice
-> yourusername no YOU'D be nice i'd be mean
-> charles_leclerc okay amour ( my love )
charles_leclerc i love you ❤️
-> yourusername i caught the l-o-v-e
-> yourusername i love you more ❤️
username IM SOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username charles and y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username me when.
2K notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 1 month
Note
Do you think you could do a male version of the radioapple is the safe word? Or maybe just a gender neutral pronouned story? I adore it so much
of course! I am happy to adapt my stories whenever possible 🥺✨ sometimes I can’t but this one was an easy enough shift! didn’t tag the horny deer cult, this is the same story but with the hardware swapped out. Will tag in new pieces 🙏 warning; I almost exclusively watch femboy gay porn and it shows
The Safeword is RadioApple (Part 1)
(RadioApple x MaleReader)
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, male reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, asshole hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main
MINORS DNI BRUH
“Sir.”
Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.
“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”
“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”
But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”
With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”
“Daaad!” She groaned.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 
Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”
Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.
He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”
Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.
“Luci.”
Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.
Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.
You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 
Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.
That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.
No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.
For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue.  Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.
Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.
“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.
Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.
“You can say no.” You added quickly. 
“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.
“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 
“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.
You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”
He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.
“You what now?”
His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 
“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed him.”
If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”
But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 
“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.
You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.
Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.
“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my boy.’
“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”
He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.
Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”
He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 
Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 
Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 
You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.
Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 
You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”
A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.
Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.
He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. Your own cock twitched under your robe at the feeling.
Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.
Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.
When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.
One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 
“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap. 
Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”
“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.
“Three’s a crowd.” 
“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, hole soft and ready for him already, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.
Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 
“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 
Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 
Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.
“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.
Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Your cock hard and bouncing with every thrust. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—
“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?
“See? He can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 
With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 
Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your tight heat. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 
When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.
Tempting.
But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 
He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 
Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 
Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 
Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 
Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.
Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your dick, now pulsing under his hand. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your g-spot with every kiss of his hips. 
You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your face tighten. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. His hands working your shaft, fingers ghosting over your balls and head with every stroke up and down. 
With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed, your own release sticky and already cooling under you.
Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 
“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 
Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”
With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed and stretched hole. 
“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 
Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide in and out of your with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 
With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your ass, teasing your entrance with every pass. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 
As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 
Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 
Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling dear. 
 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.
What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?
Your nails cut into his skin, and you were worried you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your bullied boy cunt got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 
Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 
You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 
Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 
As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.
Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.
He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.
Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would roll back, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so sticky wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 
It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.
Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.
Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.
The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If he needs you to stop, he’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever he can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your muscles clenched around him earned you a hiss.
He began to move again, the new position causing his stomach to rut against your returning erection as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 
“Are you sure he isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.
“Nonsense. Can’t you feel him? Or does he just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.
You unconsciously tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 
Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.
He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before, stomach lurching into your chest with the impact.
He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were covered in oil and cum, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock opening parts of you never before reached. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 
You could feel him spreading open your body, soft walls helpless to resist his raging member. The feeling of your silky boy cunt sliding along his cock, your tight hole gripping him, was driving him mad.
You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Wails that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.
A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.
An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.
The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.
As Luci became lost in the sensation of your body trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.
Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”
Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.
The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”
Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”
Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised ass.
Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.
Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.
Second, rage.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 
“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”
Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.
“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.
You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.
Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”
But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”
Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.
There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”
༻Masterlist༺
426 notes · View notes
lueurjun · 10 months
Text
ੰ first kiss with enha | ꒰ heeseung , jay ꒱
Tumblr media
enhypen reaction—there comes a time in a lot of relationships where the next step is taken, and here’s how the nerve-racking first kiss experience went for you and your mans.
version two: jake and sunghoon.
. . . . . . . ꒰ HEESEUNG ꒱ ,,
he’s a feral boy
we’ve all seen that man flirt and hip thrust HE IS FERAL
so naturally you’d assume he’d be laid back and confident about the whole thing
but when it comes to you, he’s a pile of blushy mush that just cannot comprehend the fact that he’s even managed to bag you
in his eyes, you’re out of his league
bc you’re a gorgeous gemstone! have faith in yourself bby ur wonderful
and without realizing, you actually intimidate him a little
bc ur just so goddamn perfect
an angel if you will
so the idea of kissing you just seems… scary
because what if he doesn’t live up to your expectations and you decide to leave him?
he is terrified of disappointing you so it actually takes him a while to gain the courage
which panics you because why in the world is this man not givin u a big ol’ smooch?
does he not want to kiss you?
omg does he think your breath stinks and is revolted by you?
you’re both massively overthinking it
lil silly billys
and none of you want to bring it up because how do you approach that conversation?
like you can’t just ask him ‘oh yeah, hee, how come you don’t want to kiss me? are my lips crusty? does the idea of locking lips physically repulse you?’
anyways you’re a couple months in
and things are getting serious so he can’t be that sickened by you
and you haven’t run for the hills yet so you clearly don’t want anyone else
finally. he’s had enough
this man is tired of staring at your lips imagining them on his own
HE IS YOUR MANS HE DESERVES SOME SUGAR
to be honest at this point you’ve given up hope on him kissing you, and you’re much too nervous to make the first move
so you just kinda go with the flow
which naturally means that the last thing you were expecting when sliding your cute lil self into his car
was for him to lean over, cup your face and plant one tasty smooch on those lips of yours
you literally froze for like two seconds but once realisation settled in, you kissed that man back in milliseconds
heaven. cloud nine. neither of you wanted to pull away
unfortunately, you had no other choice
so taken aback by the sudden kiss the only thing you could think to do was share a giggle before you held up a bag full of treats for your date
gosh ur both so awkwardly adorable i can’t
“i got us snacks for the car ride! but you taste better.”
you’re so cute stop the little blush on your face after saying the cutest yet lamest thing ever
heeseung cannot resist tugging you back in for another little lip tasting sesh after that because you are the cutest thing to ever exist
he is an absolute simp for you AS HE SHOULD BE
. . . . . . . ꒰ JAY ꒱ ,,
despite being the perfect man material, he isn’t the most experienced when it comes to relationships
like he’s had a partner before, but it was never serious so the milestones just weren’t that important to him
but it’s different with you
don’t roll your eyes at me
idc if that’s cliché okay. it’s jay. you allow it. lose the ‘tude baby cakes i know you rolled your eyes
anyways:)
everything that didn’t seem so important in his last relationship suddenly seemed a thousand times more nerve wracking this time
because losing you is on the line and jay knows that he doesn’t ever want that to happen
suddenly he wants everything to be perfect because you deserve the world and nothing less
hahahahasleepingontheroadtonight
jay absolutely refuses to give you a shitty first kiss
it has to be romantic. and it has to be amazing and if you don’t like it then he will slide down the wall
clutching honey to his chest
sobbing
same tho that’s a mood
anyways yeah he wants to make sure that you get the most romantic kiss ever
meanwhile you’re not too fussed because it’s jay and no matter what, kissing him would be a dream
unless he’s like a really bad kisser but he’s perfect so he’s not
he’s taking his time to prepare everything
like he plans a candle lit dinner, rose petals, the finest food
the whole shebang
lemme be you for one day i beg
but two days before the dinner is set to take place
YES HE HAS A FULL SCHEDULE
the two of you are hanging out like normal and the vibes are immaculate
and you both want to kiss each other
the timing just seems right
but jay, the little dum dum, is fighting with himself
because does he really want all of his hardwork to go to waste?
you’re both leaning in but smoke is practically pumping from his head due to how fast his mind is racing
seconds away from those luscious lips
HE PULLS AWAY
absolute dummy
you’re hurt and embarrassed obviously
bc you just got flat out rejected and that’s just horrifying but it’s fine it happens to us all babe
and jay is panicking because well… you look like you’re going to start sobbing
“is there something wrong with me?”
the crack in your voice. the pain in your eyes. THE QUESTION ALONE
oh dear jay feels like he’s going to throw up
this is NOT how he wanted any of this to go
you start packing up your things to leave which is fair because you’re embarrassed
and jay is trying to figure out what to say or do
and then he just decides to be honest because honesty is the best policy
so you’re about to step out of the door when he gently grabs your arm
“look i’m sorry. i really really really wanted to kiss you… it’s just… i have been planning a perfect dinner for weeks so it would be perfect. i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, i just wanted it to be perfect for you.”
i’d fold honestly
i have no shame
and neither do you apparently because you can’t help but crack a perfect little smile
“so do i have to wait for this dinner or can i kiss you now?”
BOLD
you’re an icon
jay just kinda smiles sheepishly
and then he caresses your neck and tugs you into one of the softest, most amazing kisses you have ever had
firework inducing even, toe curling, heart thumping-
sorry i’ll stop
the point is, the kiss is AMAZING
maybe you didn’t need a fancy candlelit dinner to make it perfect after all
perhaps, all you needed was each other
i’m legit sobbing someone pls send help
2K notes · View notes
astroboots · 10 months
Text
Every You Every Me | Issue #7
Tumblr media
COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You finally get some answers out of Miguel about who you are to him.
Word count: 5,700 words.
Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist
[Previous] [Next]
Tumblr media
"So let's take it from the top," you tell him, as you sit down and put down the Trenta-sized caramel flavored hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup in front of the man named Miguel O'Hara.
The two of you are sitting across from each other at a small booth at the nearest Starbucks you were able to find, seeing as you're homeless now, and there's nowhere else you could think of to go.
He's dressed in a large fitted hoodie that drapes down to his thighs. Where he's managed to find something that is oversized in length on him, you don't know because he's not exactly short.
"I'm from a dimension known as Earth-928," Miguel says.
Before he can continue, you raise one hand, and you can see his right eyebrow twitch unhappily at the interruption. 
"Yes?"
"Just to clarify, so we don't have another ‘coffee cake’ misunderstanding. When you say Earth-928, do you mean a different version of the Earth we’re on now? Or is this a habitable planet in another galaxy that happens to be partially named Earth?"
"It's a parallel universe characterized by distinct physical parameters and initial conditions, accounting for the diverse manifestations of our observable universe. So still Earth," he says, sweeping his gaze across the café, nose wrinkling the way one does when there's something off-putting in their vicinity. "Just a little bit less primitive."
Of course he would say that, wouldn't be able to resist the jab would he.
You peer up at him across the table. He is very technical and thorough with his explanations. But as grateful as you are for him finally being willing to answer your questions, you hadn't expected those answers to be quite so information dense. You need to pick your questions more carefully or you are going to have to go down the street to buy yourself a notebook in order to keep up.
"How did you end up on this Earth?" you ask.
"Where I'm from, I'm a scientist, a researcher. One of the things I studied was the theory of physical cosmology and the existence of the multiverse. My work was concentrated on the theoretical ability to navigate between distinct universes within a hypothetical multiverse–”
Ah shit, you should've been more narrow in your question. Should have asked him to simplify it a bit more for you. Because now you're sitting here blinking up at him, pretending you understand half of what he's saying. 
It makes sense that he’s STEM. He speaks like the type. Smart as hell with none of the social skills to gauge whether the other person is following the conversation. 
Listening to him reminds you of that time in college, when you'd walked into the wrong lecture hall, wound up in advanced chemistry instead of your math class, felt too awkward to leave and just sat there drawing doodles with an attentive expression until the class was over. 
And he’s still at it, “– employing advanced mechanisms that manipulate or transcend conventional spacetime frameworks, enabling exploration–"
"Okay, wait, hold on a sec," you interrupt, once it becomes obvious he’s not going to stop any time soon on his own. "Can you... simplify, please?"
He stops mid-sentence, taking a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling and considers your request, with a serious expression as if he's thinking really hard on it. "I’m a scientist. I study the multiverse. I built a parallel universe traversal device, it allows me to visit different dimensions." Your brain feels insulted that it clearly took more mental effort for him to dumb it down for you than to just give the supergenius version.
“So… a machine that allows you to jump between alternative universes?” 
“Yes.” 
There’s a pause between you as you run through the questions in your mental list you want to tick off now that he’s turned cooperative and talkative. But with everything that’s happened in the last handful of hours, a lot of the questions you previously had seemed outdated. The one question, the most important one, you’ve wanted to ask from the start though remains. 
"Who am I to you?"
Miguel takes the large sized drink in his even larger hands and somehow this big paper cup still manages to look tiny in his grip. "You and I were... involved," he says.
You frown. ‘Involved’ is such a vague term. It belongs in the trash with other useless terms to describe relationships: “situationship”, “complicated”, you hate them all. 
"So I was your girlfriend?"
"Yeah, something like that," he concede, fidgeting with the thin gold chain looped around his neck, his eyes not quite meeting yours, like he's embarrassed to use the term.
‘Something like that,’ you chew on his answer unhappily, sympathizing with your other dimensional self and how the other you seemed to have snagged a commitment phobe. 
Other-you, who isn’t here in this dimension with Miguel. You wonder why that is. 
"What happened to me?" you ask.
His eyes are glued to the table,  not looking up at you as he answers you in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it. "She died."
"Oh."
The revelation shouldn’t take you by surprise. 
Every time Miguel’s brought up your other self, it’s been tinted with earth-shattering sadness. It's not hard to put one and one together and come to the conclusion that whatever happened to you in this other dimension didn't end happily.
Still it's an odd feeling to know that out there, somewhere, a version of you has died. A version of you that was clearly very important to the man in front of you.
"I'm sorry," you tell him.
It feels silly to say. It's bizarre to give your condolences over your own parallel death, but Miguel looks so heartbroken. He’s slumped in his seat, large shoulders rounded until his frame looks so much smaller than you're used to, and you don't know what else to do.
"So what is happening to me now," you start, not sure how to word what the phenomena that you're going through is, "these continuous near-death experiences, is that how she died?"
"Yeah."
"And do you know why that... kept happening to her? Why is it happening to me?"
"I don't, and I don't know how to stop it. Believe me I tried."
He cradles the paper cup in his hands, the grip a little bit tighter now until he's creasing the paper and the caramel liquid oozes and leaks from the top.
"What I do know is that the universe isn’t going to stop trying to kill you, no matter what you do. And with every near death incident you manage to survive, these incidents will escalate in nature, until..." he stops, eyes flickering away from the cup to meet yours, but it's like he loses courage and doesn't want to say the last part.
"Until, what?" you prompt.
"Until your dimension collapses."
The blood freezes in your veins. "Wait, collapses!? What do you mean?"
"I can't guarantee it will happen again. But that's what happened last time. When the other you kept cheating death, the universe eventually started to collapse in on itself."
You slump back in your chair, trying to process what you've just been told. What does that mean? That even if you managed to defy all odds to survive, doing so would doom the rest of this universe as you know it?
"When will that happen?" you ask, and you're surprised you manage to get the words out because there is a hard lump in your throat that makes it hurt to even swallow.
"Judging from the trajectory and escalation of events, you have about three months give or take."
The two of you sit in heavy silence, for the moment you're not sure what else to ask him. Because it feels like you are trapped in a building looking for an exit sign, but all that’s tacked onto the brick wall is your death certificate, waiting to be signed and formalized.
There’s no way out. Nowhere to go.
"Give me your hand," he says, breaking the silence. 
You give it to him without hesitation, watching, puzzled, as he takes off his watch and secures it around your wrists.
"Why are you giving me your watch?"
"It's not a watch," he says, then he presses something on the face of it, and an image of a young woman flickers into existence in the space above your wrist, vaguely see-through. A hologram!
"This is Lyla," he introduces.
Wait, wait? Lyla? As in your mom Lyla? You watch the tiny woman floating above your wrist. Short bob-cut, and flashy heart-shaped sunglasses, with a twinkle in her eye. 
The hologram looks nothing like your mom. You part your mouth, about to ask about the name but you're interrupted by the energetic buzz of a female voice greeting you.
"Boss-girl! Long time no see. Want me to catch you up on the latest multiversal gossip? I compiled an edit of highlights set to Despacito."
"Lyla," Miguel warns, tersely. "Not now."
"Ruuuuude! You're the one who woke me up you know."
"Lyla, go back to sleep."
The female avatar grumbles, but then her image flickers away and the watch turns back into, as far as you can tell, just an ordinary watch.
"Why did you name the watch Lyla?"
"It's not a– " He cuts himself off, sighing with exasperation. "Lyla is an advanced A.I. she's going to be with you at all times. She's an added layer of security, built to protect you."
He didn't answer your question. Completely sidestepped it as if the two of you are having two different conversations.
Built to protect you, he'd said. Does that mean he still intends to do that?
"So you're not going to leave?" you ask him.
He leans back in his seat, eyes drifting towards the table. "No."
You look up at him, stumped. Not sure you're understanding what he's saying. Because not even a few hours ago, when the two of you were in your apartment, this man was adamant there was nothing to be done to save you. That he was going to leave and you were never going to see him again.
Right now though, his actions seem to be contradictory to that. You can't make heads or tails of him. Hot and cold doesn’t even begin to cover it. 
"Why not?" you ask, "I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but you seemed pretty set on the whole ‘I can’t save you’ thing. What changed your mind?"
“You did.” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, crossing his arms ever his chest, "You told me you wanted to live. Have you changed your mind already?"
“Wha– NO! I just want to know why you changed yours.”
“I–” He hesitates, another wave of sadness passing over his face. “I’m a superhero. I save people… or try to. It’s what I do. I’m not gonna just leave you to die after you tell me you want to live.”
It’s a good answer, even if you don’t buy that it’s the whole truth. 
You look down at your wrist, and the shiny chrome of the not-watch he's just gifted you winks back up at you. "Do you think I have a chance of surviving all this?"
"It's pretty hopeless," he says, and there’s no break in his expression as he continues. "Your chances of making it out alive are pretty much mathematically impossible."
It's odd though. Even though he's outlining the futility of your situation, basically telling you to raise the white flag and surrender, there's something contradictory in the tone of his voice. 
"What do you want to do?" he asks you.
It’s a challenge, you realize. An encouragement. He has faith in you. It's all of these things rolled into one. As if he's telling you to prove the universe wrong.
"I want to live," you answer. "If the universe collapses in three months, then please stay with me. Give me time to solve this and find a way to stay alive."
His mouth curls into a hint of a smile. The very first you've seen from him since you've met. It's bright and boyish, erasing the harsh lines of his stern expression until it gives way for something much softer underneath that makes your heart leap in your chest with triumph.
You grin, a strange elation of happiness buzzing in you as you stretch out your hand to him, in an invitation for a handshake to seal the deal.
"Deal?"
Miguel leans over the table, clasping your hand in his much larger one as he squeezes it back gently.
"Deal." That small smile from before is still there. "So what's next?" he asks.
Tumblr media
The thing you never realized, being an ordinary person bereft of super genes or other superhuman powers is just how convenient commuting can be if you have them. 
No longer do you have to brave the Lynchian nightmare that is the NYC subway system. Half-naked manic street preachers giving sermons as you’re held hostage, with nowhere else to go in the carriage. Being chased down by a drunk trumpeting Mariachi band. Instead, all you need to do to get from point A to point B (A: being the Chrysler building and B: the building formerly known as your home) is to hold on tight to Miguel as he swings you both above the city gridlock.
You imagine that this is what paragliding must feel like, except it's so much better because here you don't have to do the safety training beforehand or pay $3,000 for the privilege.
The city skyline is a dark evening blue, dotted with the sparkling lights of office buildings, cab roof lights and street lamps, as the wind ruffles through the fabric of your clothes.
It's such a different sight when you're flying above instead of walking on the streets below, that you don't even clock that you're in your neighborhood, until you see a building with a collapsed wall that's been blocked off, looking like a crash site. Only then do you realize... you're home.
Miguel carefully sets you down on your feet on a small patch of concrete that is clear of the rubble and destruction.
"Why did you want to come back here again?" he asks. 
It’s a good question. Now that you're here, standing in the middle of charred debris and cracked bricks, you're not sure either. You had some vague plans of seeing what you could salvage, hoping for some clothes, maybe your electric toothbrush, or really just any of your stuff. Something that’s yours, no matter how small, to hold on to after the events of today have ripped away life as you know it.
But there’s nothing left. The furniture, all your books and knick knacks, and even your dirty laundry piles have been demolished. Your home as you know it is gone. There's only piles and piles of rubble and traces of white fire extinguisher foam on the ground. The fire has been out for hours, but the pungent smell of smoke and sulfur still pervades the air. 
"You okay?" Miguel asks.
He's still standing at the outer edges of the apartment, close to where your window would have been if a helicopter hadn't crashed through it.
"Yeah... I guess the silver lining is that I didn't have anything expensive. Though it'd been nice if I could've saved my mom's Le Creuset set or at least the nanny-cam so I could return it and get a refund," you joke glibly. 
You nudge aside some concrete rubble with the cap of your shoes. There's nothing under there, no treasured memorabilia that's still miraculously intact. Just more burnt concrete and rubble.
"Why did you have a nanny cam?"
You turn around at his question, to see him hovering close to you, one eyebrow raised with an unhappy set to his jaw. 
From the displeased expression on his face, he's probably misunderstanding something here. Probably thinks you're operating a very unlucrative Onlyfans business, when what you've really been doing is spy on him and his nightly visits. You don't know which is worse to confess to, so you don't confess to anything.
"No reason," you say, ignoring the way his already raised eyebrow twitches with irritation at your lack of an answer.
"Come on, let's go," he says, and he waves towards you in a come hither motion like he's commanding a dog.
"Go?" you ask him. "It's past midnight. My place, as you can see, is wrecked. Go where exactly?"
Miguel shoots you a strange look. "A hotel," he says, like it's the most obvious thing, and– okay, he's not completely wrong in that assumption.
Problem is, you didn't have time to pick up your wallet or phone before your impromptu interdimensional visit. They’ve been incinerated along with all the rest of your worldly possessions, which means you don't have any way to pay for a hotel.
Plus Manhattan hotel prices average $400 a night. Even if you still had access to your debit cards, your budget’s pretty tight right now after all the capital you invested in your unhinged quest to trap the superhero before you. 
"In the city? I don't have that kind of money and it will take months for any insurance payouts to come in."
You should know. As an insurance claims adjuster, you know you’ll be lucky if your claim is processed before the end of the year. And, ugh, just the thought of the paperwork you’ll have to fill out is enough to give you an anxiety migraine.
"I’ll cover the room," Miguel says casually before holding out a hand to you, "Come on, let’s go."
Tumblr media
When Miguel said he’d cover it, you expected a reasonably-priced room at one of the Days Inn across the river or the like. Hopefully a place with no rats or bed bugs, and maybe clean bedding over a somewhat comfortable mattress for you to pass out on if you were lucky.
You didn't expect this.
Standing in front of the Midtown Four Seasons, you find yourself on sleek marble so polished you can see your own reflection. You haven't even stepped a foot inside yet and there are two old fashioned doormen, wearing immaculately fitted suits, with an even more impressive posture opening the majestic double-set doors for you as you approach.
It's swanky as hell, and you can’t help gawking like a tourist, eyes glued to the decadent carved ceilings that must be at least 30 feet tall, soaring above you. Honey-colored limestone that looks like it’s been looted from Ancient Rome.
You feel more than a little bit out of place. This is way outside of your budget. You could probably work your job for a lifetime, and not have enough disposable income to stay the night at a place like this.
"Uhm, Miguel... this place is way too–" you start, turning towards him.
But as you were busy lamenting the state of the housing market, he's already walked away from you (for such a bulky guy, he moves swiftly and silently) and as you whip your head around to find him, he's already standing in front of the receptionist.
Damned antelope legged man, would it kill him to wait up for you once in a while? You run up after him and have to tip-toe in order to see over his shoulder because the giant mammoth is blocking the check-in counter.
And wow, even the receptionist here is of a different caliber than the ones you'd find at Holiday Inn. A fashionable bob-cut with razor sharp edges, looking like a model cut out from a Vogue cover.
"Do you have a reservation, Sir?"
You half-expect him to say no, and that the two of you would have to tuck your tail between your legs and walk out of here to the backdrop of a sad trombone playing.
To your astonishment he says your name. The receptionist tip-taps away at her keyboard and then she nods and smiles gracefully at you both. 
"Yes of course. After reviewing your reservation details, I am pleased to inform you that all necessary arrangements have already been made, including advance payment and verification of your identification. Your room is ready for you, we trust you will enjoy your stay."
She flashes you a pearly white smile so shiny it's almost blinding and hands you a hotel key card. 
When you turn around, to your confusion Miguel is no longer next to you. How does he keep disappearing like this? 
"Cielito," Miguel’s voice calls. The nickname doesn’t register at first. It doesn't even occur to you that he’s referring to you, until he barks it out a second time. 
Your head darts up to see him standing by the elevator, tapping his feet impatiently as he waits for you to make it over to him.
"How did you do that?" you whisper loudly to him as you step into the elevator. "Where did you get my ID? How did you make a reservation? How did you--"
He takes your hand, mid-sentence, turning your wrist upwards and taps the watch.
"The computer systems in this universe are child's play for Lyla to manipulate. Reservations, money, ID, she can take care of all of that easily," he explains.
"She can do that?" you ask, and Miguel merely nods at you as the elevator closes behind the two of you.
You tip your head down to inspect your gifted watch. In awe of this technical marvel that would make Siri look like it’s from the stone-ages. You wonder if she can boost your credit scores. She could probably hack any wi-fi password so you'd never have to worry about data throttling again. She could get you table reservations for Libertine! The possibilities are endless!
You turn to Miguel. "Can Lyla get me Beyoncé tickets?" you ask. 
He just shakes his head at you with what almost qualifies as an amused smile.
Tumblr media
The room upstairs is massive. 
It’s easily three times the size of your little studio apartment, and the ceilings are twice as tall, with a hanging glass chandelier that’s sparkling bright enough to blind you. It looks like one of those places featured in Architectural Digest. 
Everything is in an art deco style, with expensive looking furniture and even more expensive art hanging on the one spare wall that isn’t covered in floor to ceiling windows. There are large shelves and a sleek looking kitchen, complete with an opulent looking velvet lounge chair of emerald green that looks like something a Roman emperor would be fed grapes on. 
In this colossal space of a room, there is only one bed. One colossal, plush-mattress-topped, goose down duvet and probably 1,000,000,000 thread count sheet covered bed.
You tense up, not sure what the arrangements Miguel had in mind. Did he want the two of you to sleep in the same bed?
Miguel did pay for the room, so you’re not going to start voicing objections. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time in the short time span that you two have known each other to do that. This bed is also a lot wider than your tiny double bed, so it wouldn’t be the cramped disaster it was last night. You’d just have to make sure to use the bathroom before bed this time so he doesn’t jab your full bladder in the morning again. 
Without saying anything, Miguel strides across the length of the room with impatient and determined steps. His hand reaches for the balcony doors and slides them open. 
"Wait wait, where are you going?" you ask him as you run up to the middle of the room. 
“I’m sleeping outside,” he says over his shoulder, and your mind boggles with that. 
“Why? Isn’t it better for you to stay here?”
"This is the 62nd floor. That’s about as safe as you’re going to get. I’ll keep a lookout to make sure no more helicopters come crashing in.” 
You’re not sure if he means the last part as a joke or not, but as you watch his broad back retreating as he walks away from you, a sickening sort of the deja vu twists through your chest. 
I can’t save you, he’d said back in your apartment, Nothing can. 
The feeling clawing at your chest feels alarmingly like panic. It screams that he’s leaving you. That he’s never coming back. That you’ll never see him again. 
You’re being irrational, and you know it. You remind yourself that he wouldn’t have done this much for you only to bail in the middle of the night, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s festering, sharp and urgent, under your skin, or the way your heart races, your whole body flashing hot and cold at the same time. 
You want him to stay. 
“Miguel,” you call out, and he immediately stops and turns to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical question. 
Please stay. 
You open your mouth, but the words won’t come out. You can’t ask this man—this big, sarcastic, rude hulk of a man—to have a sleepover with you because you’re scared to be alone in the dark. He would laugh you out of the hotel room.
“Uhm… thank you,” you say instead, but it’s no less sincere, “For everything.”
His eyes soften, the sharp narrowness of them easing up. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, and despite the cold chill of the evening, you think you can see a faint flush blooming in his cheeks, before he quickly ducks his face from you. “I’ll be right outside if something happens.” 
He turns back around and walks out, closing the patio doors with a gentle click behind him, leaving you by yourself. 
It’s quiet. 
You survey the empty room you’re in. Without Miguel’s large frame taking up space, it seems even bigger than it did before. 
It’s a beautiful room. Something that you’re pretty sure you’ve seen in a movie set. You don’t know why you’re not as excited as you were before. This is you living your Pretty Woman moment. You should be filling up the big jacuzzi tub you saw with bubbles. Heck, maybe ask Lyla to order you a bottle of champagne from room service. 
Instead, your eyes linger on the glass patio doors leading to the balcony terrace. You walk over to the bed, perching yourself down on the edge of the mattress, then flop down. 
Might as well try to sleep, you think to yourself as you climb under the covers and switch off the light. The best thing you can do right now is catch yourself some rest so you’ll be alert while trying to figure out your next steps tomorrow.
3 months… That’s what Miguel told you.
That’s all the time you have left. 
That means you don’t have time to waste, but you also have no idea where to start. The local library doesn’t exactly carry any resources on how to stop the universe from trying to kill you. 
The Universe. 
An infinite cosmos, grander than any human being can possibly comprehend. This vast space containing all the galaxies with its billions of stars and planets, where an individual being does not even register as a speck, and it wants you dead. How can you possibly fight against those odds? 
You lie wide-eyed and awake staring into the dark of the room, and the feeling of dread gnaws into you. 
You don’t want to be alone right now. Turning in the bed, your eyes find their way back to the blank slate of the pitched night outside the balcony doors. 
You really wished he had stayed with you. 
Sitting upright in the bed, you consider your options. You can lie back down. Suffer insomnia and the existential horror of knowing the universe is trying to murder you. Or you can man up, swallow down whatever tiny morsel of your pride you have left and ask Miguel to come back inside and stay with you. 
Flinging the duvet from your body, you get up to walk over to the balcony. You hesitate for a moment before tapping the window pane the way you might knock on a door, giving a polite head's up before you slide the balcony patio open. But when you poke your head out, turning your head left and right, Miguel's nowhere to be found. 
Okay, that’s weird. He said he’d be right outside if you needed him. You walk up to the ledge of the balcony terrace, leaning over the rail and peer down to see him dangling upside down, from the ledge of your balcony. The sight nearly makes you scream. 
"Miguel!” 
At you calling his name, he pulls himself up, one clawed hand gripping at the concrete wall as he climbs his way up and over to you. He makes it look easy, as if gravity does not exist for him, and it’s only a moment until he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, facing you. 
“What’s wrong?” he demands, eyes concerned, and you’re suddenly aware of how very close he is. His face mere inches from yours, your noses nearly touching.
“What’s wrong? You’re hanging upside down from the 62nd floor! What are you, a bat?!"
“Why did you come out here?” he clarifies, and his words give you pause. You try to gather your thoughts after the bizarre sight you just walked into and remember what you came out here for. 
He’s still looking at you with his full and intense concentration that makes your skin prickle with warmth.
God, it’s embarrassing to ask. You feel like you’re five years old, asking your parents to turn the nightlight on, even though you know you’re a big girl now and aren’t supposed to be afraid of monsters hiding under your bed any more. 
You look down on your hands, where you’re wringing them together, then back up at him, and make yourself spit it out, "Could you… maybe… stay with me tonight?" 
His eyes widen at your question, but he doesn’t actually answer you and gives you no physical indication one way or the other. 
"I feel safer when you're with me,” you admit. 
“I am with you out here,” he counters, because of course he can’t make this easy for you.  
“I can’t see you out here.”
The line of his shoulder eases, and he ducks his head down with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Get back inside, Cielito. You're going to catch a cold like this."
You shuffle back inside to your bed, watching out of the corner of your eye as  he follows you inside and settles himself on the lounge sofa. He’s so tall that his feet are sticking out over the armrests, like a long-legged stork. 
Hiding a smile, you climb back into bed, wrapping the bedding all around yourself.
“Good night,” you call out, and he makes a grumpy noise of acknowledgment. 
Your head drops back onto the soft pillow, and you close your eyes, ready to sleep. It’s such a nice bed. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin and smell of fresh eucalyptus. The mattress is the most comfortable you ever remember resting on, firm but somehow soft at the same time. You feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud. 
Moments go by, and you revel in the sumptuous bed, waiting for the best sleep of your life to claim you. 
Except it doesn’t. 
Somehow… you still can’t fall asleep. Is it… too soft maybe? You turn in the bed, twisting your torso to get into a position you can comfortably sink into, but something doesn’t feel right. There’s no lumpiness like at home, but that should be a good thing. 
Except… despite the decadent softness of the bed. Despite the fact that the sheets probably have a thread count with more zeros than your checking and savings accounts combined. Despite all of the luxury that surrounds you, you still find yourself tossing and turning and wide fucking awake.
The bed is too big. You don’t know what to do with all this space. Your body is not accustomed to this sort of decadence. What if you suffocate sinking into this soft fluffy pillow in your sleep? What if you toss and turn until you fall off this massive bed and break your neck? Maybe that’s how out of all of the universe’s attempts to kill you, you end up dying? 
Fuck! 
You can’t sleep. 
You turn to your side and stare into the velvet lounge chaise on the opposite side of your room, where Miguel is. 
Quietly, you pad up to his still form until you’re standing in front of him and hunch over, trying to decide how rude it would be to wake him up again when there's nothing he can do about your stupid insomnia anyway.
In the dim light, you spot something glinting at you. Looking closer, you notice that the thin chain looped around his neck has escaped his shirt to pool on the fabric of the sofa cushion under him. You gently drag the loose end of the necklace toward you, and find a smooth golden band threaded onto it.
Picking it up cautiously, you flip it in your hand and find that there's something engraved on the inside.  It's hard to see in the darkness, but when you lean closer and squint your eyes, you can just make out what it says.
'MO'—undeniably the initials of one Miguel O'Hara.
Twisting the ring slightly, you find a tiny plus sign followed by your own initials, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.
Oh.
The memory of sitting across Miguel at Starbucks returns to you, when you had asked him who you were to him. You think of the avoidant gaze and how he couldn't look you in the eye.
‘Something like that,’ huh?
Guess the other you wasn't just his girlfriend after all, you think, chest drawn so tight it’s painful.
Holding the wedding band in the palm of your hand, you slide down to sit down on the floor with your back pressed against the chaise lounge.
Your heart aches for the man in front of you and everything he's lost.  You really, really hope you're not going to end up as just another regret on his list.
~ Next Issue
Tumblr media
Dedication & Credits: As always to my best friend @thirstworldproblemss I am half asleep and running on fumes. I'm wording things poorly but I just want you to know that I am very happy I have you. Thank you for being my friend and for the time we get to spend together. I have the most fun when I'm with you.
Also to @guruan who is my muse, my source of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to her because have you seen this beautiful piece of artwork she did for EYEM?!
1K notes · View notes
thebiggerbear · 4 months
Text
Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.
A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)
Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: mentions of implied sex
Word Count: 1449
Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith
"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Jenny version | Jason version | Tom version | CJ version | Rachel version | Anael version | SDV Leah version | Alec version
Tumblr media
Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage. 
Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.
You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.
“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”
Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.
“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.
“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.
Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”
Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”
You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”
After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”
You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”
He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”
You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”
He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”
You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.
Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”
You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.
“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”
Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”
“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.
You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.
Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”
Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.
“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.
“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.
You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled.
“Okay, then where are you taking me?”
His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”
“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”
“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”
“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”
Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”
He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.
“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.
Tumblr media
469 notes · View notes
lovingmattysposts · 5 months
Text
My Brother's Best Friend Part 6
Tumblr media
P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12
pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo
Summary: you just moved into the sturniolo’s home after some family issues and you’re starting to become attracted to your best friend’s brother and you hated yourself for it. But how could you resist?
warnings: cursing, mentions of family issues,
sorry this took a minute, love yall
xoxo Autumn
Chris pov
"A-Any of it? You don't remember any of it?" She asked looking up at me in almost fear, like she was questioning her own memory. Fuck. I pursed my lips and shook my head slowly, like my brain was rejecting my own response.
She just looked up at me evident hurt plastered on her face, she turned away to hide her expression as she nodded. I just looked down at her opening my mouth to say something but nothing came out.
I saw tears start to pool in her eyes. It felt like a punch in the gut. I'd never seen her cry before. I don't even think Nick has seen her cry. I stepped forwards before she turned without saying anything, basically sprinting towards the front door.
Like she couldn't stand standing in front of me for another second. I looked down, feeling guilt run down my entire body so much it ached.
She told me about what happened with her parents. I know what I said to her, I remembered all of it. It just felt too soon. I don't know. I'm an awful person. She hides her feelings so well, we have that in common. I didn't know my words effected her as they easily slipped off my lips.
I placed my hand on my forehead, before biting my lip and picking my head up letting out a breath.
I couldn't do this again. It wasn't fair to myself. I couldn't do this again.
I didn't meant to hurt her. I just wanted to protect myself. I didn't know meant that me turning into a complete insensitive asshole. That's not who I am and that's all i've been showing her.
"Three days ago I was good enough to kiss, then three seconds later it was just a moment and you don't have any feelings for me, this morning I was a kid, and now I'm pretty?"
I winced at the memory moving through my head. I''ll admit that it was easier to be open with how I feel about her when I was a little drunk. I'm to scared to in person, sober. It was like 15 year old Chris speaking for me while looking at her on the roof, spilling out my thoughts as she looked up at me the way she was.
Then 19 year old Chris woke up and was scared to get hurt again. It wasn't fair to her I get that, but I just wish she knew. But she didn't and she was never going to.
God, I need to burn that notebook. Even drunk seeing her holding it made my heart drop in fear.
I swallowed looking back towards the door.
I knew this would happen. The second she showed up at my front door with a bag the size of her. I knew it. I just hated myself for letting it happen, but not as much as I hated myself seeing her start to cry over my words.
I felt a buzz in my pocket, before sliding out my phone.
From: Elmer
Bro where tf u at?? were about to start
I bit my lip looking back up to the door. Before typing up a reply.
From: Elmer
something came up, i'll catch you later
I sent it before taking a deep breath and turning and walking down the street. I had to make this right.
Y/n pov
Nick sighed running his hands through my hair, as I let out a deep breath. I closed my eyes not my now damp eyelashes brushing my skin. Nick let out a breath.
"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked softly from above me. I went running to Nick's room, due to the fear of Chris bursting through the door to chase after me, newsflash y/n he didn't, but I knew he wouldn't come into Nick's room.
I crying uncontrollably not able to make any words form, just helpless cries. I don't know the last time I cried the way I just did. It might have been a year. Or at least 8 months.
I was like the tip of the iceberg that was already falling over. Just that last final push of being punched in the face by someone I cared about screaming "I don't care and I never did" directly in my face after I let my walls come down.
I let out a breath my cries finally stopping. He just peered down over me. I looked up at him.
"I'm a mess Nick" I breathed. He smiled slightly down at me, making me slightly smiling, then dropping it. I looked down at my hands and peering at the door.
He never came after me. He meant it. He had no idea what happened last night and he didn't see me cry. I swallowed, feeling the familar feeling pass through me like a wave of relazation.
I have to move on, again. Someone hurt me and broke me again. I had let someone gain my trust and they smashed in front of my face, again. How could I be so stupid? So navié. I will never learn.
For the rest of my life I will let someone in and they will burn me. I've never know anything differently. What hurt the most in the dissapointment at myself, was that I told Chris what happened before my best friend.
Chris wasn't the one soothing my cries. Nick was. Chris wasn't the one wiping away my tears. Nick was. I had put my romantic feelings for someone over my friendship with Nick, and I hated myself for it. The worst part was that I was feeling the guilt of the situation Nick had no idea about. Worst of all, It was his fucking brother.
I sighed swallowing, looking up at him.
"I just-" I took a deep breath. "I'm tired of trusting people" I said honestly looking up at him. He nodded. "I get that" He said softly. I closed my eyes.
"I'm not trying to get you to tell me something you don't want to, but did something happen at your mom's?" He asked softly, making my heart clench. Chris didn't have to do anything and I openly told him everything when he didn't ask for it. Nick saying this to me only made me feel like a worse friend.
"My mom kicked me out of the house that's why I came to stay here Nick" I admitted looking up at him. His face didn't wavor and he just nodded looking down at me.
"I just-" I sighed feeling guilty for saying I was crying over my mother when I wasn't. I was crying because his brother punched me in the gut and spit in my face.
"Seeing her, it was just-" I shook my head. He nodded, moving his hand back over my hair. I bit my lip. I hated lying to him. I fucking hated it.
I heard the door start to creek open and my eyes shot to the door, before seeing Matt peeking his head in. I sighed of relief. Matt glanced from Nick to me. He studied my face and I looked away from him, guilt present on my face.
"Is everything okay in here?" He asked his eyes not leaving mine as i avoided is gaze. Nick looked up at him. "Yeah, everything's good" Nick answered for me as I stared at the ground.
Matt shifted on his feet before crossing his arms over his chest. "Y/n, why are you crying?" He asked. I blinked up at him as he stared straight at me. I felt his mind, so much it hurt.
"Matt" Nick said shaking his head. Matt looked from me to him. I sat up sighing. "My mom doesn't love me. Would you like me to alaborate Matthew?" I asked tilting my head at him.
His face dropped and he uncrossed his arms. "Oh uh, I'm sorry i'll just leave you guys be" He said shaking his head and then turning to leave. I sighed laying back down. I'm getting way too good at lying.
I looked over at Nick, who was shaking his head. I smiled over at him.
"Do me a favor" I breathed. He just glanced over at me. "Never let Holton treat you badly" I stated looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed at my statement. He leaned back.
"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked blinking at me. If you only knew. I shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't want anyone to ever hurt you" I said softly, looking down at my hands. He chuckled.
"We've only been on two dates, it's not that serious" He said quietly. I looked up at him smiling. I smiled at him before throwing myself onto him, hugging him. He groaned laughing, holding his arms up, hating physical effection.
"Please don't ever leave me" I whispered laying against him. He reached down patting my head slightly. "There isn't anything you could do to make me go away" He repeated from the other night again. I sighed the guilt slowly eating me alive.
The rest of the night, Nick and I stayed in bed laughing over endless movies and I started to feel better. I knew when I had to come in contact with Chris again, that feeling might change, but for now I was okay. I just needed to not show that he effected me as much as he did.
I don't like guys. I always had too much going on in my own life, guys were the absoutle last thing on my mind. So maybe thats why It happened so fast, because I wasn't used to the feelings of butterflies or wanting a text to come through, or the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when he flirted with me.
I never ever have caught feelings for someone so quickly with them doing nothing. Showing the bare amount of interest and I was head over heels. Now it was gone. Or at least had to go away.
Starting now there would be no more persuing Christopher Sturniolo. No matter what.
"This bitch has zero common sense" I said lifitng my arm up to the TV. The fifth season of Love Island playing before us. When I didn't hear a response, i turned and looked at him. His eyes were closed with his hand propted behind his head, snoring softly.
I sighed realizing Nick was sound asleep. I leaned over picking up the remote before realizing it was past midnight by now. I clicked off the TV and slowly got up before walking out of the room.
I sighed as I closed the door slowly. This is where I was meant to be. Nick's best friend and not the girl who has feelings for his brother. Or at least trying to not having feelings for.
I closed my eyes before rubbing my eyes and walking over to my room.
No more anxiety because no more feelings for Chris. If anything this would make my life better, not having to worry about my feelings along with the rest of my issues.
I opened my door before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. I needed sleep. I craved sleep. As i closed my eyes I heard my door being swung open and the licks being flipped on.
I sat up and turned towards the door, seeing Chris standing there with a huge bag and then throwing it on the floor. I just stared at him.
"Chris what the fuck are you doing?" I asked glaring up at him. He let out a breath.
"Clothes" He pointed to the bag. I looked down at the bag and then up at him. "What?" I asked shaking my head. He looked down at the bag.
"You're clothes, I got them from your house and a couple books too. I also found some shampoo under your sink if you needed that, I didn't know if you were tired of using our 3-in-1" He said looking over at me. I just blinked at him before standing up and picking up the bag and looking through it.
I looked back up at him as he watched me. “What-What about my mom?” I asked stuttering as I looked at him. How did he go into my house and face my mother?
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it” he said putting his hands into the pocket of his sweats. I let out a breath, setting down the bag. I glanced over to him.
“Thank you” I smiled. He pressed his lips together and nodded. I just looked at him. No. No. No. y/n.“I’m sorry” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. I swallowed looking down at my hands.
“For what?” My voice hitched, knowing he had more than one thing to apologize for. He sighed stepping forward, making me look at him. He reached up to touch my face, but his hand froze as he put it back down to his sides. He sighed looking down.
“For more than you know” he said looking down at me. I blinked at him feeling the tension in the air, thick and hard. I swallowed aw he looked down at me.
He sighed before turning and starting to walk out. “You’re still the smartest person I’ve ever met” he said turning and looking at me, with a sad smile. My face dropped as the memories from last night came flooding into my brain.
“You're more than enough. You're like the smartest person I've ever met"
I opened my mouth to say something but nothing out. He bit his lip before turning and leaving me alone, again.
I closed my eyes shaking my head before turning and kicking the stupid bag of clothes. I shook my head and put my hands on his head.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to march my ass into his room and smack him so hard in the face. I wanted to tell him to stop messing with me. To stop doing this to me.
He’s stringing me along at a pace I can’t keep up with. I keep getting tripped underneath my feet and then he turned around and picks me back up.
I leaned down picking up a book out of the pile of clothes.
Magnolia parks university by Jessa Hastings
I sighed. My favorite book. I turned towards the door he just walked through. How would he know that? There’s no way he knew that. It was just a coincidence. Right?
-
The next few days were hazy I’m being honest. I attempted to avoid Chris by hiding in my room forcing Nick to bring me food every now and then.
He hasn’t questioned my lack of activity or the lack of being able to get out of bed. He just excepted the fact that I was going through what I was going through and let me be me.
I heard a small knock at my door and set down my phone seeing Nick looking at me with a smile. I raised my eyebrows as I watched him walk over to my bed and lay down beside me.
“You look happy” I said looking down at my smiling best friend. He sighed turning over on his back. “I think I’m gonna ask Holton to be my boyfriend” he said looking up at the ceiling. I sat up.
“Are you sure? I mean you guys have only been going out like a month” I said looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows. He glanced up at me and shrugged. “I don’t know I’ve been thinking about it. I like him and he likes me so why not try it out?” He sighed.
“Nick you are trying it out right now. You’re going on dates that how you see if you want to date someone. Making it official is like a huge step” I said shaking my head. He sat up looking at me.
“I know it’s a huge step y/n, why do you think I’m asking you about it?” He asked looking at me. “I just think it’s too soon, I mean Nick this would be your first boyfriend. Don’t you think you should give it a little more thought? I mean I haven’t even met the guy yet” I asked looking at him. Scared the death that he was gonna get hurt.
His face hardened.
“I told you I have given it thought. I came to you thinking you would support me on this” He glared at me. I sighed really not wanted to fight with him over this.
“Nick I want to support you on this I just don’t want to see you get hurt” I sighed. “That’s life y/n. When you like someone, you go for it and yeah I might get hurt, but I might not. I have to try. If I never went after what I was feeling I would be sitting in my room overthinking everything he’s said to me. I like him y/n. I cant just let that go” he breathed.
“Nick” I sighed. He held up his hands. “No” he shook his head. “Just because you’ve never been in a relationship doesn’t mean that you can stop me from being in one” he said harshly. I let out a breath.
“Nick that’s not fair. That’s not what I’m saying-“ I breathed. He stood up shaking his head. “You’re not in the business to be giving relationship advice when you don’t know the first thing about a relationship” he said above me. I swallowed feeling his words in my chest. Wow that fucking hurt.
“Nick” I sighed looking up at him. He just shook me off. “No I have plans with Holton, and you know what? I am going to ask him to be my boyfriend and he’s gonna say yes” he scoffed before turning and leaving the room.
I sighed leaning my head against my knees. Wow I felt like shit. Nick and I rarely fight and fighting with him right now was the last thing I wanted to do. It was the absolute last thing I needed to be dealing with right now.
I turned over feeling tears come back to my eyes. Now a famailr feeling that I hated. I was so helpless and I hated it. I hated feeling helpless, but that's all that I felt through my body.
I felt like I constantly needed comfort. I have never felt that way in my entire life. I swallowed closing my eyes at the thoughts. I hated myself for what I was about to do, but i didn't know another option.
I picked up my phone.
to: chris sturniolo
are you up?
I sighed closing my eyes already feeling the guilt wash over me again. I blinked down at the phone after a few minutes, seeing no response. God, I shouldn't have sent it. That was such a mistake. I wanted to delete it. No, I wanted to delete myself. Find Nick and apologize.
My phone buzzed. I sat up looking down at it.
from: chris sturniolo
yes why what's up?
I swallowed. I could say never mind. I could just not respond. But we both know that I'm not strong enough to do that.
to: chris sturniolo
can you come in here please?
I bit my lip as I saw the three dots pop up.
from: chris sturniolo
y/n. why
I shook my head, feeling the tears pool again threatend to spill over for what felt like the millienth time today. I was desperate.
to: chris sturniolo
chris please i'm begging.
He typed.
from: chris sturniolo
you don't have to beg, i'm coming
I closed my eyes, leaning back against the headboard as I waited for Chris. A few seconds later he peeked his head in and walked in. His face immediatly softened when he saw my face.
"Hey, what's going on?" He asked quietly as he walked into the door, slowly closing the door behind him. I sighed looking at my lap shaking my head. He walked over to me sitting on the bed next to me.
"Hey, look at me" He whispered. I looked up at him as he scanned my face with his eyes, trying to understand why I was upset. I swallowed and closed my eyes.
"Do you think I'm a bad friend?" I asked quietly blinking my eyes open. He furrowed his eyebrows looking at me. "What?" He asked quietly back. I sighed leaning my head back.
"Do you think I'm a bad friend?" I asked again. Chris stayed silent next to me. I turned my head towards him as he looked at me. "I know that we're not-" I stopped shaking my head.
"But to Nick-" I sighed feeling my eyes swell again. "Hey" He whispered pulling me into him. I let out a shaky breath as he wrapped his arms around me. I breathed in his scent, feeling his embrace.
"I don't think you're a bad friend y/n" He sighed from above me. I glanced up at him. "Don't cry" He whispered wiping under my eyes. I wiped my nose and sighed.
"Nick told me he wanted to ask Holton to be his boyfriend" I explained. I closed my eyes. "And I told him I was worried it was too soon and I didn't want to see him get hurt and he got so mad and-and-" I choked. Chris rubbed my arm with his hands that were around me.
"Hey, hey, hey" He said softly. I looked up at him. "You're not a bad friend. A bad friend would agree with everything he ever said, and you don't. That makes you an amazing friend" He breathed looking down at me. I bit my lip, trying to believe him.
"You're in a senestive place right now y/n, you're not a bad friend. You're just in your head. You know Nick, he's probably just scared and deflecting it onto you. It's not your fault. You just have to let him come to you" He said smiling down at me.
I nodded sitting up, him releasing his arms. I let out a heard breath before wiping the tears from my eyes away. I glanced over at him and he was looking at me.
"I'm sorry, I'm just scared. I can't lose Nick, he's the last person I have left" I sighed shaking my head. Chris paused before nodding slowly. I layed back against the pillows beneath us.
"I feel like i've driven away every person In my life" I shook my head, looking up. "I can't do the same to him" I whispered, glancing at Chris for looking down at me.
"You're parents don't count. Y/n you don't deserve to think that it was your fault they left" He breathed. I just blinked up at him, before furrowing my eyebrows.
"Why did you lie?" I said barley above a whisper. He blinked down at me for a second before sighing and leaning down, laying next to me, crossing his arms over his chest. I just looked at him, as he stared up at the ceiling above us.
"I don't know" He whispered. I just watched him. "I can't tell you" He said looking over at me. I shook my head. "Why not?" I asked feeling like I deserved to know why he hurt me when he didn't have to.
"Because then I'd have to kill you" He said scrunching his nose and then cracking a smile. I rolled my eyes smiling, pushing his shoulder making him chuckle softly. "I hate you" I sighed rolling over and laying on my side looking at him.
He rolled over matching my position as he looked back at me.
"I shouldn't have lied, I'm sorry. It was shitty, I didn't mean to make you cry" He whispered looking at me. I cringed closing my eyes now knowing he saw me start to cry. Embarrassment flooded my body. I blinked my eyes open and he was still looking at me.
"It wasn't you" I lied. "Yes it was" He said back. I bit my lip. "Do you think we could ever be friends?" I asked softly. He blinked at me, as if he were thinking my question over.
"No" He stated. I just looked at him. "I don't think I could ever be just your friend" He whispered. I closed my eyes feeling his response through my entire body. Why was I like this? Why did I do this to myself? Why did I constantly put myself in the same position.
"Y/n"
I opened my eyes, while he just looked at me. "Yeah?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. He glanced over my face, swallowing. I wasn't going to move, I was waiting for him to. He sighed closing his eyes breifly before leaning over and putting his hand on my cheek pulling my lips to his.
I sighed from relief when our lips finally touched like a breath of fresh air into my lungs. His lips moved over mine slowly as he moved his mouth in accordance to mine. Our lips moved together in an unrushed manner.
I moved my leg over to straddle him, but he pushed my leg down and disconnected his lips from mine, sighing.
“Y/n” he said turning and looking back up at the ceiling. I just stared down at him, not believing he just stopped me. I scoffed shaking my head grabbing his attention. He glanced over at me.
I sat up shaking my head. “Y/n, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“ he started to speak another excuse of why he fucked up and why he kissed me and why he shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t going to heard it anymore.
“Stop” I held my hand up silencing him. He stopped talking. I peered down at him. “Kiss me or get out” I breathed harshly. His face turned confused as he looked up at me.
“You’ve been doing this to me for a month now Chris and I’m fucking tired of it. You’re spinning me around in circles chasing after something and then you hang it in front of me before just yanking it away” I explained shaking my head. He just listened.
“I’m getting seasick over here” I sighed looking over at him. He bit his lip. “So you don’t have to sit here and apologize for this or that or whatever the fuck you think you need to apologize for, because I’m not really sure you even believe you anymore” I said closing my eyes.
“So I’m not going to sit here and ask you if you like me or if you don’t. I’ve have a hard enough week as it is, so-“ I finsihed looking over at him. He stared up at me.
“Either kiss me. Or get out” I said again not breaking eye contact. He blinked at me for a few seconds before hanging his head. I closed my eyes looking down. Great.
I shook my head as I started to throw the blankets off of me to get up, but I felt him grab my arm, pulling me back over to him, before pinning me below him and hovering over top of me. I stared up at him in shock as he peered down at me with dark eyes.
So dark I couldn’t even see the blue anymore.
“Don’t talk to me like that ever again” he said before grabbing my arms and pinning them above my head and attaching his lips to mine roughly. Leaving me completely helpless under him, not that I was even before he kissed me anyway.
.....did you like the long chapterrr???
tag list: : @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @jjslovely @noelknowsnothing @frankdelrayy @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld
let me know if I missed you on the tag list
464 notes · View notes
cosmicmunsonwrites · 9 months
Note
reader is ovulating and is just really needy and it leads to smut 💀
say that you love me
pairing(s): bf!jj maybank x gf!fem!reader
warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, pet names, praise, unprotected sex
summary: once that certain time of the month rolls around, you find yourself a little more needy than usual.
authors note: thank you for the request, love! i didn’t know whether it was for jj or rafe so i just went with jj. if it wasn’t meant for him, let me know and i can make one for rafe as well!
not edited
do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.
not my gif
Tumblr media
“baby, please?” you begged and whined. you placed gentle kisses along his neck, legs straddling his sweatpant-clad hips.
he groaned as his hands squeezed at your own hips. “sweetheart, this is, like, the one time we have to be extra careful.”
you pouted. “please, j? i’ll take plan b in the morning, i promise. i jus’ need you right now.”
“you know how risky this is?” he asked, knowing you were ovulating and usually, most couples would be trying for a baby on that very day.
you nodded. “we can be careful.”
“and how do we be careful without a condom?”
your eyes softened with need as you looked at him. “i’m still on birth control, jj. and i’ll take the extra plan b in the bathroom as soon as we’re done.”
he sighed. he could never resist you. ever. and he knew as soon as you started, he’d regret ever denying you.
“fine.”
you smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips, your hips having a mind of their own as they slowly grinded against his.
he groaned against your mouth as his hand slipped further down your body and towards the waistband of your red panties.
his fingers trailed over the lacey material and down to your dripping cunt, rubbing slow circles over your clit. “please don’t tease me right now, j,” you mumbled against his lips.
you hid your face in his neck when he began to apply a little more pressure and start to rub faster circles. your moan was muffled against his skin as your hips ground into his hand, needing to feel more of him.
as if he could read your mind, he pulled your panties to the side and pushed two fingers into you slowly. “fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned when your cunt took his fingers in with ease. “my needy girl. doin’ so good already.”
“more, jj,” you whimpered. “want you inside me.”
he chuckled and kissed your neck. “i am inside you, baby.”
“no,” you replied, moaning out when his fingers began to move faster. “not your fingers.”
he knew you typically had trouble voicing what you wanted. so he decided he’d let it slide this time. he pulled his fingers from you and lifted his hips, along with your weight on top of him, to slide his boxers and sweats down a little.
you had never had sex without a condom, always too scared about what could happen. but right now, all you wanted was to feel all of him.
“you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, the head of his cock running through your folds.
you nodded against his shoulder. “yes, i want it.”
and with that, he was sliding into you, making you moan even louder as your felt every bit of him, your legs beginning to shake a little.
this was all you’d been needing.
835 notes · View notes
redtsundere-writes · 3 months
Text
Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
Tumblr media
mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 1. The King Of The Ring.
| Next →
Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2899 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!
Tumblr media
“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He demonstrated again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight. 
His body was glossed with sweat, his lips were smiling proudly and the blood of his opponent was sliding down his skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I also used to believe that luck didn’t exist, until I witnessed it in person. 
“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read Team Black MMA Gym in bright white and red letters. 
It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with most potential of the country. My trainer told me that I should try out but, as a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only woman there is the physiotherapist. 
I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I had already eyes of me, was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants. 
The gym was divided is training areas. In the corner, there was a real ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combats. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment. Also, there were more areas designed to practice different fighting styles. 
The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those were working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner. 
“Welcome, miss.”  A tall blonde man called me.
“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He leaded the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring. 
Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. Sukuna was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available. 
It was a different experience watching live the king of the ring in action. The details like the sound of the punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent in the floor, I couldn’t help to gulp hard. He was a killing machine. 
“Great job!” Nanami applauded along some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place. 
Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and throw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t react. 
“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna disdainfully said. 
“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete. 
“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned. 
“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself. 
“Hello? Am I talking with y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called to my gym, desperate. 
“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a recruiter or someone in the UFC. 
“Great. My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.” A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight division. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring. 
“I’ll be straight forward. I don’t if you saw his last fight…” Sukuna’s last fight was in Las Vegas against Suguru Geto, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, meanwhile Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?
In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in problems. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but he that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Sukuna tried to set himself free by the force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight. 
“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity. 
Sukuna, in some way, could free himself from Geto’s strong grip. With great momentum, Sukuna delivered a precise punch to the jaw that completely knocked Suguru out. I jumped from the couch to watch closely the repetition. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply free themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that punch was. 
“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.
“There are many more renowned trainers who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym. 
“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I had called today,” Nanami honestly answered. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”
“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a woman, there’s must be a reason. 
“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline is you,”  he declared. 
An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like if I was a slack to deal with. Now I understood why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it. 
“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach said, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day. 
“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers. 
“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around and was making my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym. 
“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted. 
“You didn’t want me to leave?” I asked, trying not to smirk. 
“What did you call me?” He dared me to repeat myself. 
“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, you are an asshole!” I shouted from my place. 
Nanami quickly got to me so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me. 
“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.
“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper. 
“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume. 
I put the teeth protector I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match. When I finished wrapping my hands, I took off my hoodie, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistle and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, in the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He was being serious. 
“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looking me from head to toes without shame. 
“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, offended.
“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.
“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo said before stepping inside the ring. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side. 
A small audience formed around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to relax my limbs. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His preying eyes were on me all times. I smiled at him. He could look me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss. 
“Fight!” Gojo shouted. 
There is a gold rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have any other option than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just swoop him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.
Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times that were celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way. 
I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience to howl in surprised. 
I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued like this, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turned around on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could chokehold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place on his gym. Sukuna started to breath with difficulty while this hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas. 
“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering. Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stand tall, leaving him space so he could breathe. 
“y/n “Medusa’s snake” y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished. 
“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I did shake it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym. 
“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice. 
“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted on my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress. 
“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on. 
I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weak, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task. 
The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone. 
“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna. He looked tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 
“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth. 
“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned. 
“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk. 
“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected. 
“Fine, with one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible in floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”
“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he angrily said. 
“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfil my condition, I can’t train you.” 
“Wait!” Sukuna grab me by my arm to stopped me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face. 
“See? That wasn’t that hard.”
“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.
“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man. 
“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.
Tumblr media
Next Part→
Masterlist.
Order your own fanfic!
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!
355 notes · View notes
hitomisuzuya · 4 months
Note
HII SUZU, COULD I REQUEST STEP BROTHER SCARA WHO STARTS FINGERING THE READER IN THE MIDDLE OF CHRISTMAS DINNER?
Stepcest, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering.
My second request with fingering today. I honestly don't blame you. Scara has drool worthy gorgeous fingers.
Scaramouche had to admit that some of the food st Christmas dinner was actually good, but there was another dish he would much rather help himself to instead. He knew his precious stepsister could never resist him, and he was more than willing to take advantage of that whenever he could.
How could he not? You looked sweet and delicate, helping make Christmas dinner. You deserved to cum on his fingers. Fingering his darling stepsister under the table was his own version of Christmas dinner.
His hand had started with groping your thigh under the table, gradually moving it up your skirt to push your panties aside. He knew you weren't going to push his hand away. His fingers were stroking and rubbing between your folds, wet rapidly gathering between your legs as he rubbed your clit.
The way your body subtlety shook as he abruptly pushed two fingers inside of you was adorable to him. He could tell you were biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from moaning.
You tried to move your hips up into his fingers as discreetly as possible, squirming a little bit in your chair. You suddenly winced, biting the inside of your cheek too hard. Scaramouche rubbed your clit soothingly.
You know your parents couldn't catch you. But his fingers just felt so good that you could help but let out a soft moan,along the table go silent for a moment. Scaramouche flicked in his fingers into your sweet spot, making your legs shake as you struggled to tell your parents that you were fine, that you'd just suddenly remembered something you forgot.
Dinner carried right on, and so did your stepbrother's fingers. He wetly squelched them in and out of your cunt, kissing his fingers into your sweet spot that nearly made your body go limp under the table as you feebly rolled your hips up.
He alternated between flicking and rubbing your clit to further stimulate and tease you. He was going to have to reward you by impaling you on his cock after dinner for how well you were doing.
Scaramouche set a faster pace for his fingers, sensing you about to cum. He added a third finger, rubbing his thumb around your clit as he stretched your walls apart. Watching your face subtly contort in pleasure as your walls clamped tight around his fingers was more than enough to start making him hard.
Tears stung your eyes, you let out a silent scream as you suddenly squirted all over his fingers, struggling not to moan in bliss. Your hips jerked softly under the table as he fingered you through your orgasm. He patted your clit underneath the table, immediately declining whenever pie was offered after dinner.
He had something much sweeter to taste and enjoy.
673 notes · View notes
sindicas · 1 year
Text
pleasure, pleasure, pleasure!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
cw: reader is pregnant, referred to as mommy (no kink), office foreplay, eren talks you through foreplay, fingering, squirting, you both like to tease, praise, umm i think that’s it
notes: i posted this yesterday but it wasn’t the full version 😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media
naur cause thinking of eren who’s gotten you pregnant and your tummy is so round and plump. your breasts are so heavy and full. your body’s thick and plump too. yet, your pussy’s still so warm and tight. the snuggest fit for his fingers. the one’s he’s pumping out of you slowly, and making you taste as a reward for being so wet.
“see what happens when you come visit me at work”
“erennn,” you’re crying, sniffling. curling your toes and using your hands to cover your face, “ ‘s bored… i was bored.” you mutter. you’re out of breath and drooling. he’s got you in his office chair, it’s cozy and snug, and you’ve got your thighs spread over the arms. eren’s holding you in place, fucking his middle finger right into your pussy. marveling at the way you squeeze around him, how your arousal drips and covers his fist. he’s in love with how he can feel you sucking him in deep. if only you could handle his dick. but he just can’t fuck you soft enough in this pregnant state. he can’t bend your legs at the knees ad throw them over his shoulder. can’t just fuck another kid into you cause your tummy’s so big, and your pussy aches with any sudden touch. 
“i’m helping aren’t i? you don’t like being a lonely mommy? can’t keep your butt at home?” 
“if only you’d take my dick. i think it’d make you feel so much better mommy.”
this mommy feels so guilty for not being able to take daddy’s dick. 
“nuh uh,” you’re trembling. jerking in his seat. your thighs spread even further as you fuck his finger. that one digit makes your limbs weak. it’s making your head feel so light, and it’s making your pussy so, so wet. a loud squelch. that suction. “can’t take your dick.” you cry cause you want it so bad. 
“but i wan’ it.” you make grabby hands at him. at his cock that strains against his pants. it has his khakis on edge. makes him massage that pretty little clit. your swollen little feet ache, cause you’re curling your toes so tight. holding back the loudest string of moans. he’s fucking his angel this dumb with just his fingers. 
“don’t look at me like that.” 
“cause you’re gonna hate me if i fuck you right now.” beads of sweat trickle down his face. resisting that pussy, your pussy, his pussy. it’s fucking killing him. he’s gonna have to go to the office bathroom and jerk his dick, cause every time he tries to put it in; you’re a mess. you get so tight that he can barely push the head in. ‘you’re gonna tell me you can’t take it. gonna tell me it’s too big ‘won’t fit’.” he mocks. 
“you’re a real tease you know that?” did you know that? coming in here, just so he can finger you in his office so that you can go about your day. after he releases all that sexual frustration in you, cause you know he’ll do it. he’ll do anything for his pregnant wife. kiss her lips, rub her feet, and please that greedy little pussy. just with a flick of your wrist, he’ll submit. just so you can rub it in his face, let him know how good it feels to get pleasured by the help of someone. with the help of a lover.
and he wants to deny you of that pleasure, but feeling how fucking wet you get from his fingers makes him swoon. he could never deny you of that. how your gummy walls have their own heartbeat. how it pulses around his finger like it’s his dick. how you squeal out when he strokes your g-spot. how you’re leaking into his chair, creaming all over his fingers. a steady stream of cream slips down from your pussy and drips to your ass. 
you fuck his finger like a whore. so needy, so desperate. blabbing and fumbling your words. arching your back away from the chair when that pleasant, fuzzy feeling creeps into your stomach. “gonna cum,” you groan, “gonna make me cum.” 
“i know, baby. i can feel it. i can feel your little pussy squeezing me.” he smirks, places his hand below your bump, and pushes up and at an angle as he sinks his finger further inside. he wants to add another, just one more if he can. just to stretch that pussy out so his dick can fit; he’s a throbbing mess. but his dick is girthier, and thicker. it feels like his heart is in his dick. throbbing at each feeling of constraint. 
“gonna try to fit one more in, ‘mkay? just wanna see how much you can take.”  you twitch and clamp down around him. he definitely won’t get it in like this. you’re fluttering non-stop around his fingers. 
“come on, princess, relax for me.” 
“you know ’m tryin’.” your words come out breathy. there’s a bit of strain to ‘em. all you can think about is cumming. there’s nothing else, you’re focusing all your energy on getting a nut. your clit’s taken over all thinking; all those nerves are on overdrive. 
“just breathe okay?“ 
“it may hurt…” he parts your lips, and lets a second finger graze your hot, sticky folds. “but it’s ‘cause you’re squeezing so tight.” he begins to ease that second digit in. sinking it slowly. slowly! he has to remind himself. he’s eager to fit it in. and slowly he’s pushing his way into your pussy. another digit. just one more that’s all he wants. one step closer to preparing you for something bigger. 
he can see it in your face that you want to scream. your grip around the chair’s arms tightens and your chest rises with a quickness. because as soon as the finger started creeping its way in your eyes shot open.“‘ren, kiss me, please.” you cry out. tears stream down your face as you beg for eren. 
“almost in.” his lips ghost yours. he rest his forehead on yours and when his finger finally pushes past all that resistance, he kisses you. and it feels so heavy. having to keep your mouth shut, to ease the moan that’s desperate to come out. “‘ren — feels good.” you groan into his mouth. 
“does it, baby?” a thin line of saliva connects your tongues, “you know that’s all i want.” his tongue dips back into your mouth. your twisted between staying focused on the kiss, and bucking your hips to make eren’s fingers fuck you. they strum and scissor your insides. all that just for you to be undeniably tighter than you were before. 
you can feel yourself spiraling more than you were before. the pads of his fingers are gentle, so gentle that it has your thighs shaking. your head’s thrown back on the back of the chair, and you just can’t function. no speaking, no looking — nothing. 
and eren feels his dick leaking. hearing how out of breath you are, how you squeal when he hits the right spot with his fingers. he admires you for being so sexy and knowing what you want. how you still look so pretty when you’re on the verge of cumming. even with your mouth hanging open and your eyes crossing. “you’re gonna cum? i can feel you.” 
you nod your head and feel yourself just letting go. you cum so hard like always. your thighs tremble before they snap shut and your moans are arousing. you keep them quiet enough just so eren can hear. and he’s gonna get more out of you. he curls his fingers up and tightens his hand around your hip. “you know what i want.” you jerk in his chair. you cling to his arms and beg him to be gentle. but he can’t. 
he wants you crying out. make you feel bad for not letting him fuck you how he wants. he can be a little selfish. instead of his fingers, he’s imagining that it’s his dick that you're cumming around. squeezing this tightly on. clamping so harshly on. it gets his dick throbbing harder than he can imagine. all the fucking blood in his body is in his dick. little spurts of liquid gush out of your pussy. each one growing with more intensity as his fingers keep stroking your insides. “yesss, mhmm right there.” 
“uh huh, good girl.” he praises with low eyes. he’s running his tongue over his lips, as you squirt from all that pressure, all that pleasure. “i knew you could take it.” he kisses your cheeks, and slowly takes his fingers out of you. they’re covered in a thick layer of arousal, and he’s gonna use it. he’s thinking about it. pulling his pants down and using it as lube to… y’know what. 
5K notes · View notes
fireflysummers · 9 months
Text
Good Omens S2
Okay so.
Excellent Job, Gaiman
Ouch???
I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.
But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).
It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.
And it's slow.
Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.
Anyways.
Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.
I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.
I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.
I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.
I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.
On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.
And Crowley. Dear Crowley.
He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.
Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.
Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.
It won't be permanent.
But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.
Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.
I want Aziraphale to get angry.
He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.
I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.
But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.
For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.
For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.
For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.
And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.
893 notes · View notes
notleclerc · 7 days
Text
Too Hot
Tumblr media
🤍Charles x Fem!Reader
🤍summary: in which the game „Too Hot“ challenges ones desires
🤍warning: getting a little steamy here but nothing to big
🤍a/n: I got inspired by @yuwuta with the JJK version and was like „ok slay lemme try it as well“ // English is not my first language so please have mercy on me🥺
Tumblr media
In the heart of Monaco, where the streets echo with the roar of engines and the glitz of the Grand Prix, a different kind of heat simmers beneath the surface. It's not the scorching sun or the adrenaline of racing that sets hearts racing, but a playful game of Too Hot. And amidst the glamorous backdrop, you find yourself entangled in a steamy encounter with none other than Charles Leclerc.
Ever since Lando started to learn how to be a Dj, he‘s been throwing parties left and right, having only VVIP‘s in the club. Models, Actors, Athlete‘s - you name it. Obviously, that means the whole Grid is always welcome to join the fiesta. Charles, being the supportive friend he is, gets ready to dress up and waits for his girlfriend.
Y/n makes sure to wear a beautful red dress. God, that dress could make the devil go weak in his knees. Charles couldn‘t help but admire her.
„Tu es très belle, mon amour“ (you look beautiful my love)
he says, his voice tender with a soft look on his face.
You smile as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, giving yourself a natural blush. You give him a peck on his chin, as you are smaller even in heels.
„Merci Cha“ (thank you)
The two of you leave his appartement and go straight to his oh-so-famous Ferrari, the one that puts everyone in awe of its beauty (or the beauty driving it). The ride was smooth and no words were exchanged as the two of them enjoyed the calm and warmth.
It didn‘t take them long to reach the club, the music already indicating that Charles and Y/n were fashionably late. Charles hands his keys to a valet since he can‘t, for the love of god, park the car right. You tease him about it way too often.
„Et ils disent que les femmes ne peuvent pas se garer“ (and they say women can‘t park)
you say teasingly.
Charles chuckles and places his hand on your waist, guiding you towards the entrance. He made sure to get down to your ear and whispered softly
„Surveille ta bouche ou je le ferai pour toi, bébé“ (watch your mouth or i‘ll do it for you babe)
As you both enter, one with a smirk and the other with flushed cheeks, Lando greets the two of you with a wave from the DJ booth and makes sure to let you both know where the others are.
The party can begin.
As the night unfolds and the party reaches its peak, you catch sight of Charles across the room, his charismatic smile drawing you in like a magnet. You were dancing with the girlfriends of the drivers and having the time of your life. Your pulse quickens as Charles suddendly approaches, his confident stride sending a thrill down your spine.
"Hey there," he greets you with a charming grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fancy a game of Too Hot?"
You're taken aback by the invitation, but the thrill of the challenge beckons you. "Sure, why not?" you reply, unable to resist the allure of his playful proposal. The two of you love challenges no matter what the situation is.
The rules are simple: two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves, and the first to touch their partner loses. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the game, the tension between you palpable.
As your lips meet in a teasingly tender kiss, the world around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Charles. His touch is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that blazes with each passing moment.
"Tu es un sacré compétiteur“ (You're quite the competitor)
Charles murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.
„Mais je n'y vais pas de main morte avec toi, ma petite fleur“ (But I won't go easy on you, my little flower)
he adds playfully.
You respond with a playful challenge of your own, reveling in the thrill of the chase as you dance on the edge of temptation. Each kiss becomes a daring game of brinkmanship, testing the limits of self-control.
Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in the heated exchange, the boundaries between reality and desire blurring into a tantalizing haze. The world outside ceases to exist as you and Charles become locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to concede defeat.
But as the game reaches its climax, a surge of longing courses through you, threatening to overwhelm your resolve. With a breathless gasp, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against Charles's cheek in a moment of unguarded passion.
"Je gagne“ (I win)
he whispers triumphantly, a smug grin playing on his lips as he leans in to claim victory with a searing kiss.
„Je te laisse gagner parce que c'est la seule fois où tu le fais“ (I let you win because that‘s the only time you do)
You teased him again and couldn‘t help but laugh, seeing his baffled face. He puts his hand on your cheeks and squeezes them together. He looks down at me and shakes his head softly with a certain intensity to his eyes.
„Tu veux vraiment jouer à la cochonne avec moi ? Tu sais ce que les sales gosses obtiennent de mon amour.“ (you really want to play dirty with me? You know what brats get my love)
He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head.
Ne m'oblige pas à te faire ça, ma belle. (Don‘t make me do it to you sweetcheeks)
He goes back to squeeze your cheeks together and pulls you closer to him with a warning look in his ocean eyes. As the night draws to a close and the party fades into memory, you carry with you the lingering warmth of Charles's touch, a tantalizing reminder of a fiery encounter that ignited sparks in the heart of Monaco.
As for what happens after the party? Only the two of them and maybe the neighbour will know ;).
Tumblr media
Now that escalted quickly👀 HAVE MERCY ON ME!! I don‘t know how to write intimate moments aka the humpy dumpty so please take this as a chance to let your mind run freely 🥹
Reblog, comments and likes are aprreciated
353 notes · View notes
sourpatchys · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Title: Warm Showers
Rating: fluff! 15+
Word count: 1.6k
Setting: The early days of Alexandria
Summary: Daryl Dixon isn’t afraid of anything. At least— he’s not afraid of anything physical. However the thought of belonging, that chills him to his core.
Basically! My friend asked me if I could write up something fluffy regarding Daryl’s lack of hygiene in Alexandria, and I simply couldn’t resist.
_
The first night you were able to sleep in your own bed was one you cherished more than anything.
Never in your life did you think a mattress could, or would ever, make you feel so utterly blissful. The soft sheets against your newly cleaned skin felt like heaven.
Of course, you weren’t alone. Daryl had stayed with you.
Your relationship with the archer was never a spoken fact, neither of you confirmed or denied your closeness to one another.
You supposed it started after the prison fell, maybe even before that. When he saw you were alive, with nothing more than a few nicks and bruises— he ran to you.
Of course he ran to Carol as well, but Carol didn’t get a tearful kiss on the forehead.
The one and only kiss the two of you had ever shared.
Even sleeping right next to one another, your lips never met, not each others, and not the skin between.
It was nice in a way, having someone all to yourself with no expectations. Especially being on the road as you were.
Every night, he sat by you until you fell asleep, and every morning he was there— ready to start the day with you.
He had held your hand on the way into Alexandria, dangling his dead possum in the other. You supposed he’d always been a bit feral.
The first few nights, you hadn’t showered. You were too afraid of having to leave again, you didn’t trust the water, you didn’t trust the food, you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself.
Once rick had given the go ahead however, you took him at his word, and finally, even a bit reluctantly, you dropped your guard.
It had been a few days since then. And you didn’t know being a person could feel so good.
The hot water seared through your skin like cotton, the food felt like a warm hug, and you— for better or for worse, felt like you again. Albeit a different version of you, but it was still, undeniably, you.
Daryl however, wasn’t adjusting. Even as he slept next to you, his mind never stopped racing. His clothes stayed dirty, his food was only what he could find, and he wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. Let alone how he should feel.
Sleeping next to you was the only thing that kept him there. Knowing you would wake up in the morning, with the same warm skin and glowing eyes as always— that’s what he looked forward too— that was his reason to live.
He didn’t need to understand himself, he didn’t need to feel a certain way, because he had you by his side, alive and breathing.
Slipping into bed that night, he felt you tense, and he heard a sharp nervous breath come through your lips.
“Why haven’t you showered yet?”
It was a question at the forefront of your mind, you knew why you took so long, you knew it was an adjustment. You wanted to know his reasoning though, if he even had one. Surely he felt that same itch under his skin that you had felt, that need to be clean but the fear of losing what you’d come to know.
He turned his head to you, his narrow eyes holding something you couldn’t place.
“Don’ need to.”
It was a very simple answer to an otherwise very complex question.
You turned your body on its side, curling up into yourself, your head flush against the soft cotton of the pillows.
“Are you afraid?”
Even with your relationship developing past more than just an average friendship, this was the first time, in all your time together, that you had ever pried into his mind.
Usually, if he wanted you to know something, he’d just tell you. He trusted you in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. But after Beth’s death, he stopped sharing. You really couldn’t help but voice your questions out loud anymore, otherwise you’d be in the dark forever.
He scoffed, turning his head away from you, a visible frown on his face.
“Ain’t afraid of nothin’.”
He was. And you knew that. He was afraid of being alone, yet afraid of being a part of something at the same time.
“I— I could help. I’ll scrub your back if you scrub mine?” You let out a nervous laugh, your humor was never in good taste.
You didn’t get an answer. His eyes just stared at the ceiling, counting any crack or imperfection he could find. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t cleaned himself.
At the beginning, he felt that same distrust that you had, that same fear of the unknown.
But now that everyone was adjusting, now that everyone had a job— even him. He just didn’t understand himself.
He could make a snippy remark about how he’d just get dirty again, he could snap at you and curse you for being too trusting too soon. But he didn’t want to.
Maybe a part of him just didn’t want to be vulnerable. The thought of himself enjoying hot water, enjoying fresh home cooked meals— while everyone else was out being productive— protecting what you’d found. It genuinely made him sick to his stomach.
Why hadn’t he showered?
He was afraid. He didn’t want to belong, he didn’t feel like he deserved to belong. He had to protect. Caring for himself didn’t fit into that role.
So after he was done searching the ceiling for answers, he turned to you again.
“M’ fine with that.”
Your eyes widened a bit, searching his for a moment.
“Fine with what?”
“You helpin’.”
If he was going to be vulnerable— he would only ever do it with you.
The trip to the shower was a strange one. You never expected your attempts at humor to get you anywhere in this world— but there you were— sneaking around the house with a man made of stone.
The two of you (just you) had decided a bath was the easiest way to go about it. Even with the hot water being limited during the day, you couldn’t imagine anyone else would be bathing at this hour. And you weren’t sure if the steady stream of the shower would hold its temperature long enough for the task at hand.
For a moment, you had tried to turn around, attempting to give the archer his privacy as he undressed— but it was quickly shadowed by the realization that you’d have to see him in the tub anyways.
The scars on his back were visible to you for a few seconds before he plopped himself in the warm water, leaning against the back wall. You decided to store that particular memory for another time, you’d asked enough questions for one night.
Your thoughts were soon interrupted by a very familiar gruff voice.
“You commin’?”
Daryl was leaning against the back of the tub with his knees raised and his arms on either side— he had made room for you.
You couldn’t help the surprised noise you made as you pointed to yourself in disbelief.
“Me?”
“You said you’d scrub me down— so hop to it then.”
__
The whole ordeal had become routine. You really couldn’t say you minded.
While being alone was nice, you’d become accustom to being in a pack of several— and now, it was a pack of two. You were alone together, even on your most vulnerable moments.
Every night, once everyone had gone to bed, the two of you would sneak away to bask in the hot, cotton like water. And once finished, Daryl would let you brush his hair, and you’d sneak right back into bed.
Carol had noticed the change. She had asked you how you’d managed to get him to shower, cracking a joke about how she was debating downing him with a hose.
You just laughed along, not giving her an answer. No one needed to know about your nightly exchange.
Tonight was no different than any other. The scratchy, but soft, soapy rag dragged along your skin. The rose scented suds carving their way down your body by the second as the hot, blissful water rained down on your bodies.
This was what heaven felt like— you were sure of it.
Rinsing out your own rag, you turned to grab another, sudding it up with the charcoal scented body wash sat by the faucet. You’d suggested that soap for Daryl after he made a remark of ‘not wanting to smell like petunias’, he seemed to enjoy it.
Raising your rag covered hand, you brought it up to his chest, taking your time cleaning any nook and cranny you managed to find. He had been building a bike from scratch, and as you were starting to learn, motor oil was not a quick and easy wash.
Daryl hummed at your touch, his own, newly cleaned hands, coming up to massage shampoo into your tangled hair.
The hair washing, would always be your favorite.
Drying off after the shower was always the same ordeal. You would put on fresh pajamas, and Daryl would put on his same shirt from the day before with a fresh pair of boxers. You’d given him grief over washing his clothes— but he wasn’t budging in that regard just yet. You decided it wasn’t worth the hassle as long as his skin was clean going into them.
And then finally, you both plopped into the freshly made bed. The silk sheets always gave you chills, their cool caress sending shockwaves up your spine. He seemed to feel the same.
Tonight should’ve been like any other night.
Tonight was like any other night.
Apart from the feeling of scruff against your freshly washed face, and chapped lips brushing against yours.
You decided then and there, you were definitely in love.
643 notes · View notes