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#i can't believe i had over a week to write this
cupcakeinat0r · 1 day
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Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3
pt. 7
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A/n: Hey y’all! Just a quick apology for such a long wait for an update, just came back from a relaxing vacay!! But as soon as I got off the plane back home, I started writing cuz the creative juices were juicinggg <3 Anyways, enjoy <333 Hopefully this serves as a good apology ;)
4 exams down, 3 more to go. The finish line of the semester was so close yet so far. Not gonna lie, your sanity was hanging on by a rope, your strongest and only support system being one person. He was the most sweetest, smartest, and respectful person you have ever had the blessing of meeting. It may not have been in the most conventional (or convenient) of ways, but still, it couldn’t have felt more like the storybook that you wanted and dreamed your life would be. Amidst your academic tribulations, he made you feel like royalty.
Even now, as you wait in the library and your phone goes off with a notification from Miguel, whom you had referred to as ‘Professor O’Hara’ only just a few months ago, you are still in dreamland with the fact that you were—
Well, at this point, you two haven’t quite fleshed out the label of y’all’s relationship just yet, but for now, you tell yourself that you two are talking. So yes, even now, you truly can’t believe that you are talking with your adorable professor.
You mentally take note that this will be a conversation that you two will have to have in the near future.
Your attention is now on your phone, reading a message under the contact name ‘Mig 🤓’.
“We ended earlier than planned. Headed over there now❤️”
You smile at the message, already typing a response up.
The night he told you about his late daughter was almost a week ago, and since then, y’all have set aside a day to go to the public library. You both agreed that it was nice, quality time, and wanted to do something like that again; just talking, being with each other, and forget about school for a while. Plus, exams have sort of kept yall apart for the past week, so it was very much needed.
Now you wait at the library where you and Miguel agreed to meet at after he finishes a recitation he had to substitute for.
‘ “Ended earlier than planned” ??? You’re not slick, DID YOU END CLASS EARLIER TO COME HERE???’
‘No, of course not, I would never do that.’
‘But maybe.’
‘Uhuh... See you soon <3’
‘See you soon, mamita ❤️😘.’
With a content hum, you put down your phone and turn your face toward the quiet buzz of people reading, chatting over coffee, and studying. Even though it's been months since knowing Miguel, you still feel jitters when about to see him. You can't help it. Everything about him makes you nervous in the best possible way. From how his smile lines crease, how that one little curl falls on his face, how he always speaks to you with a slight pout, the way his sweater vests hug around his full chest and soft tummy, all the way to how he looks at you like you’re his muse. You couldn't stop smiling just thinking about him. And to think, everyone in class just thought he was a total killjoy; backs straighten and all conversations cease when he enters the room. If only they knew the real him, but a part of you is glad you're the only one to see it.
Just a couple of blocks down, Miguel is gathering his things, excited to meet up with you. As he sharply nods to the last few students leaving the room, wishing them a good Summer break and luck on their finals, his expression becomes soft as he thinks of you. Quickly, once he has the room to himself, he takes a minute to put on one or two sprays of his best cologne, fix his hair, and remove his tie. He knew how much you liked it when he wore his button-ups like this; a few left unopened at the top. He felt ridiculous, but you always commented on it, and it would make Miguel feel good.
That was another thing; since seeing you, Miguel's confidence has so much improved. He did, however, take a glance over at his cardigan that hung on the back of his swivel chair and contemplated wearing it. It used to be his safety net; an effort to try and hide his soft figure, but that was old Miguel. New Miguel wanted to impress you and, even though he’d never admit it, would try to get the most compliments out of you. Despite feeling like he let himself go, you made him feel like he was a total knock-out, which never failed to make his cheeks grow darker, and he plans to return the favor for however long you’ll have him.
Miguel arrives, scanning the enormous room for you, a bright, colorful speck among the sea of dark-colored apparel. You wore an outfit he had bought you during the semester. He’s indifferent when looking for you, but when he spots you, his lips curled just slightly, the crows feet of his face creasing. He glides across the room, but any faster, he’d be running. He tries to act collected, but you both know he’s ecstatic to see you.
"Hey mama," He stands before you, holding out your hands as if to exhibit an art piece, "You look beautiful today, as always”. His eyes graze over every single inch of you, up and down. There’s something sexy about seeing you in something he bought you, even if it wasn’t all that exposing. You go in for a hug, acting as if you haven’t seen him in weeks (You both see each other in the hallways like every day, y'all just haven't been able to be with each other in a minute).
You smile against his broad chest, "Thanks, cutie, and you look handsome, as per usual.” You give his thick torso a soft run down with your hands. Miguel looks around bashfully, even though no one is paying attention. Physical touch came easy for him when you two were alone, but in public? That’s another story.
You look up to see his wandering eyes fall back on you. “I’ve missed you,” you shift all your weight onto him, holding onto his waist like a koala bear on a tree. You get on your tip toes to reach his cheek, pressing a kiss there, “mwah! so much.” The simple gesture was enough to turn Miguel into a mess. It takes everything in him not to completely smother you out in the open, but would rather save that for when there’s privacy.
Miguel holds you as if you were a porcelain doll. Something rose in his chest, call it pride; Proud to show off the gorgeous woman in his arms. "I missed you more." He says softly.
"So? How was the class?" you hold onto his hand while looking for a place to live in for the afternoon.
Miguel looks as well and spots a vacant, quiet little corner of the library, one that sits almost separate from the rest of the crowd. He gives your hand a small tug, motioning for it. "It was actually quite nice. The students were pretty engaged for it being an 8AM... I dunno, I might pick it up next semester." He sets his bag down before grabbing you a chair for you to sit on, as well as a cushion for you to lay your back on. He grabs a stool for himself once he sees you're comfortable and sat.
You give his forearm a caress, a small act of encouragement, "Well, I think you should. You're so good at what you do. Trust me, I should know." you give him a smirk, making him crack a smile.
"Which reminds me, you feel good for tomorrow? 'cuz if you're needing review for anything, we could go over it right now-" You place a hand on his arm, "Mig! I'm fine! I feel completely fine. Besides, I've tutored over a dozen people, I pretty much know the material like the back of my hand. Please, relax, you need it."
Miguel sits back now, "But if you change your mind, you'll let me know, right?" You nod, and Miguel relaxes at last. He sees the book you pull out and reads the spine of it. Wuthering Heights. It’s one of Miguel’s personal faves. He looks forward to seeing your small reactions once you get toward the end. It was endearing the way you reacted to what you read, let it be a faint widening of your eyes or a small gasp. He also loved watching your concentrated face. He thinks back to all those lectures he spent watching you take your color-coordinated notes in his class, your glossed lips pursed and your eyebrows faintly knitted. It never went unnoticed by him. Adorable.
You do a double-take at Miguel's choice of book, not believing what you read the first time. "Jane Austen?" "…Yes?" "You like Jane Austen?" "Yes. " Miguel says this so matter-of-factly, it leaves you kind of in shock. It was a cute surprise. Smiling, you let a puff of air out your nose, shaking your head as you open your book. “What’s so funny?” Miguel smiles, wanting know what you’re thinking now.
“Ugh, I-“, You almost let a certain 3-word phrase slip from your lips, but you stop yourself. “ I… just wasn’t expecting that, is all. Have you read ‘pride and prejudice’?”
“Yeah, loved it. It’s why I’m reading this one.” He looks down at the cover, which, in intricate letters, reads sense and sensibility. Your smile is even wider now that you know the man of your dreams is a fellow Jane Austen fan. “Me, too. Let me know what you think, then.” You softly say, starting on your book. “Of course. By the way, anyone ever taught you not to judge a book by its cover?” You roll your eyes and nudge him, making him chuckle in his throat. Although Miguel’s humor wasn’t exactly the most original, his sass takes the cake, and you love it. Feeling romantic, Miguel leans over and kisses your cheek once, twice, then gently brings your lips to his by your chin to plant a third kiss.
After finally quenching his need for your kisses, he settles in his spot and reaches for your hand, which you grab instinctively. Like always, his thumb caresses across your knuckles, and you both fall into a peaceful silence, transporting to your individual worlds within your books.
<3
The time in the library is nothing short of peaceful and fun. The first while of reading, Miguel would get up to use the restroom, but on his way back, he would’ve gotten you a cup of coffee for you and himself. A little later, you’d get up as well, but not for the restroom, but to grab him a treat, as well as for yourself. His eyes widen in pleasant surprise when he sees you walk back with them in your hands. He always did have a sweet tooth.
For the rest of the time, you’ll reach over occasionally to push his glasses back up his nose, or sometimes, without looking up from his book, he’ll simply pull your hand up to his lips, and press a butterfly kiss there, the faint smack of the peck making your heart skip a beat. And he doesn’t just do it once, he has to do this every so often because he just can’t resist; the man needs to feel you like as if you’ll disappear out of nowhere.
And you don’t notice, but every now and then, Miguel looks over at you, just admiring. He watches how your eyes inch deeper into the pages as you soak in the language. He can stay like this forever. Reading books with you while you hold hands. For a second, he feels the bottom of his stomach drop because he knows the day will have to end, and he’ll have to go back to class tomorrow, as do you. Sure, you’ll both be in the classroom, but you’ll have to pretend. Miguel was growing tired of the game. He then thinks about how near Summer is, and if he’ll see you then. Not as your professor, but as someone who deeply cares about you.
He’s already making plans on the possible trips you two could make. Maybe spend two weeks in Italy, or maybe just simple weekend roadtrips to nearby, quaint towns. He’s thinking about taking you to only the nicest, fanciest places in Nueva York.
Guiltily, his mind wanders into trips to the bedroom. How he’d love to take care of you and make sure you felt loved. Above all, your pleasure would be his. Oh, how he’d worship you like the goddess you were because dammit, you are one, and to this day, he’s still unsure how he scored you. How he, the intimidating, quiet giant, won an ethereal princess like you. He sort of smiled to himself as he realized:
Gabriella’s favorite bedtime story was becoming his life right before his eyes.
And like many times before, Miguel’s mind wanders even more. He’s thinking of the wedding, the honeymoon and the endless amount of rounds, the baby shower… having a kid with you. He’s fully aware of how crazy it is to think about it so soon, but at the same time, it feels so right. With you, it does.
Your caring, attentive nature, sweetness, cleverness, patience, and drive, they were all qualities of someone he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. Your desire to better yourself and hunger for knowledge is evident in your work for your masters. Your softness that had so remarkably torn down his walls. And of course, there was your unmistakable beauty, but that’s just a bonus!
As he continues to watch you read, your hand lovingly locked with his, he realizes his feelings are no longer casual, no. Miguel’s breath hitches when a realization dawns on him. Rather than a ton of bricks, it feels like a weight lifted off his stiffened shoulders.
He looks at you, and he feels what could only be described as true, total, and complete love.
“‘Scuse me, sir.” Miguel snaps toward the low voice, “Library’s closing in 10 minutes.”
These hushed words sweep your attention from the book in your hands, your face falling in small dismay. You both look at each other, Miguel giving you a shrug that conveys ‘it is what it is’.
“Aw man, I got so caught up in reading, I feel like we didn’t get to talk as much as I wanted to.” Miguel is gathering both of yalls things, leaving your hand for last. You grab his, and you both begin to head out, the swarm of people that was here before gone. “We can still talk if you’d like. We can go to my office?” You nod gingerly.
“Then c’mon, let’s go.” Without asking, he grabs your bag from you and slings his and yours onto his shoulder, and you both leave hand in hand.
<3
After braving the storm that seemed to come out of nowhere outside, Miguel lets you into his office first, closing the door behind you two. The campus was dimly lit, only housing a few students who were doing some late-night studying. Hopefully, no one saw you two shuffling toward his classroom.
You look around his office, and for the first time, if feels new. It’s somewhat dark, the storm outside supplying the only light in the room. You’ve been in here countless of times, helping Miguel out with class work or tutoring, so it shouldn’t feel any different, yet, it does. Maybe it’s because every time you’re in here, you’ve never got the chance to really look at it. You’re always in and out. And if y’all weren’t in here, you were sitting in the lecture hall just outside the office door. Now that the fluorescent lights are off, you realize just how clinical they made it feel in here.
Miguel observes how you look along his walls where a multitude of diplomas hang. He thinks about saying something, but doesn’t want to interrupt; instead, he allows you to examine his space, finding it charming. It’s like he’s letting you in on his life. He pretends to busy himself with something else, leaving you to explore. Which is fine, really. You two have fallen into many comfortable silences before.
Then you move onto his shelf, filled with nothing but books and maybe one picture frame, but you’re not sure. It’s laid flat on the shelf. You go away from it for a second, going back to the spines, reading them off in your head. Some DNA encyclopedias, anatomy studies, Genetic Theory… ah, here we go. Leroux, Fitzgerald, Verne… is that Shelley? Atwood? Woolf? Plath?! Then, of course, there’s Beauty and The Beast. You pause there for a second, remembering Miguel’s most cherished memories that are tied to this story. Some more Jane Austen… oh, and look, Wuthering Heights!
“You’re more than welcome to take any of those. What’s mine is yours.” He sits on the couch that sits along the wall of his office, laying back with his arm laid across the frame of it. You pull out Wuthering Heights and walk towards him, “What’d you think of this one?” You go to take a seat next to him, nuzzling against his side, your head at its assigned spot on his shoulder. “Nice try, sweetie, but don’t wanna spoil it. Though I will say, it’s really good.” his face brightens along with yours, “I think you’ll like it. Brace yourself for the ending, though.” His arm wraps around you now, his thumb making small circles on your shoulder like he usually does.
“How about Miss Austen?” You put the book on a small table beside the couch. Miguel thinks about it for a second. “She’s got this sort of sarcastic wit that I can really get behind. But in all seriousness, her social commentary is brilliant. Still applies to this day, in some ways. And her style, wow…” You can see Miguel get lost in his thoughts, his emotions having their rare time in the limelight as he proceeds to list off Jane Austen’s wonderful writing attributes. It felt so good to see him like this. To be able to get him talking like this was a big win in your book.
“…Just overall, I’m a total fan now.” He nods, looking over at your dazzling eyes. “No, no, keep going.” You urge him, overcome with adoration. Miguel smiles at the floor, shaking his head. “I can listen to you talk allll day, honestly.” He looks off into the office still smiling bashfully, away from your revering gaze. “D’aw, don’t be so shy, I love listening to your voice. It’s so soothing, Mig.”
“You’re… stealing my lines.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest while you taunt him with a giggle of your own. In an effort to quiet you and from flustering him further, he envelopes you with his arms, you reaching for his neck simultaneously, and you both meet in the middle with a kiss so sweet, it could develop diabetes. With your lips locked, he grabs your thigh and swings it over his hips, his soft stomach taut against yours. You both smile against each other’s lips, soft laughs in tune with the rain that hits against walls outside.
Sooner than later, Miguel’s small chuckles turn into soft groans, his breath becoming labored. His hands venture up under your top, fingers ghosting the skin above the waistband of your skirt. You taste of… cherry lip gloss. His favorite taste, and in the past couple of weeks, he’s grown addicted to it. As a matter of fact, he’s become so addicted that he tends to bite and pull at your bottom lip, a gesture that never failed to leave you weak in the knees.
The hungry tug of your lip evoked a small whine from your throat, unleashing something in Miguel. Carefully, he laid you on the couch, your bodies entangling in languid unison with your tongues. The feeling of all of Miguel’s weight on you set a flame off within you, his length pressing along your dampened heat each time he dug his hips. You wanted it, and bad. Needed it like your life depended on it, but your conscious was screaming at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t ignore it.
“M-mig, w-wait.” You manage to breathe out, the heart between your legs unable to agree with the brain in your head. You hated stopping where things were headed, but you had reason.
Miguel’s head shot up from your neck where it was planting hickies on. “Are you okay? You wanna stop?” He’s already sitting up, removing himself from your legs, “Mama, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, want me to take you home? If you want to, I can take you-“ Miguel was so worried, he’d rather die than you feel taken advantage of. “Miguel! It’s okay, I’m fine!” You reassure him softly, sitting up as well to keep him seated. “Trust me, I wanted this, too. It’s not you at all. I just…” you grab his hand, thinking of your next words. Your shoulders droop from what you’re about to say. Miguel looks at you with a soft expression, ready to be here for you in any way.
“Look, we both know we shouldn’t even be here, and not just in this office, I mean being together period. And what worries me the most is not even the fact that we could get caught, but the possibility that maybe you’ll…” Miguel motions for eye contact when he sees you retreating to the floor. “Mamita, tell me, please. Dime que quieres. Nothing you say can upset me or change the way I think of you. Nothing.”
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only in this for the wrong reasons.” Miguel’s brows furrow in confusion. How could he possibly think you’re using him? “Sweetie, why would I…” And it clicked just as fast as he began speaking. Miguel seemed to be going deep into thought. You were scared that maybe you had said something wrong.
“Miguel, please understand that I care about you so so so much, and because I do, I don’t want us to be intimate with each other until the school year is completely over.” You’d thought things through since becoming romantic with Miguel, and the thought that If y’all had sex, there would’ve been the risks of people finding out, you losing your eligibility for a degree that you were three exams away from obtaining, or worse, Miguel losing his job as professor and probably being blacklisted for the rest of his life. A very small part of it was also that you didn’t want your score on his exam to be affected in any which way. If you happen to not do well on the exam, you wanted the grade you deserved. There was simply too many downsides.
He looks back up at you, not a trace of judgment nor anger on his face. “Mama, you don’t have to explain yourself. The ball is in your field. Whatever you want or need, I’m right there with you. Don’t ever feel bad for what you want, okay?” Your lips curl in relief, and you nod slowly. He brings his hand to your face, allowing you to lean into his touch. “And to be honest, I couldn’t agree more. But even after classes end, even then our speed is still up to you. I’m not ready to take things further until you are.”
How lucky am I to have someone like him? I’m not entirely sure who’s up there or who to thank exactly, but oh my goodness, thank you for giving me this perfect man sitting before me.
“You mean it? I mean, you’re not disappointed or anything?” Miguel shakes his head. “Not even for a second.” Filled with joy, and almost knocking him over, you embrace him.
“We could just stay in here and chat. Would you like that?” He speaks softly against your hair. “I would love that.”
<3
Miguel and you lay on the couch (which fits you just fine, but Miguel’s feet were borderline hanging off the end), Miguel the big spoon, and you the little one. Your head lays against the decorative pillow while he props his on his hand.
You nestled against his frame, feeling the steady rise and fall of his tummy against your back. His arm encircled your waist, holding you securely against him as you melted into each other's warmth. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Mhm, more than comfortable," you replied with a contented sigh."You make a pretty good body heater," you teased. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Glad I could be of service, Princesa.” He plants a sustained kiss to your temple.
Your gaze falls softly on the wall across from you, your eyes traveling along the diplomas, “Did you always wanted to be a teacher?”
“Well, when I was little, I did. I loved science and there was this one teacher I had… she was the best. Wanted to be just like her. But…” Miguel breathes out. You can feel his stomach tense up against your back, prompting you to turn your head towards him. “Y’know… um… I didn’t always teach.”
Miguel would go on to tell you how the past five years has looked for him. He began with a rather heavy start; a freak accident in his work as a geneticist, a job much more lucrative than a professor. He’d then recount his days as a hero, proceeding to show you his long-retired claws. You listened intently, with an open mind, following along to his story of how he got involved with the multiverse, and what that term entails. He explained how the world was connected to other worlds; a prodigious tree of universes. It was how he lost his daughter. He revealed the tragic story to you finally, after withholding it that first night he told you about her in the school library. He recollected a few more memories that would eventually lead to his decision to hang up his hat as Spider-Man, finding refuge in becoming a science professor; an old dream he had abandoned so many years ago.
“And since then, I’ve been… okay. Better than before, for sure. I’m satisfied here, truly.” You sat there, processing everything he had shared with you. “I know that was a lot, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I could share this with you.” You nod, trying to think of what to say because silence just wouldn’t suffice, not for you. “I…” you began, your voice low and soft, “But are you happy?”
Miguel is taken aback by the question. Even after everything he’s said…the man just got done telling you he has fangs and red irises and that he traveled across dimensions for a living, and this is your first question? If he’s happy? He told you a story that could possibly have the fbi sent to his door with just one call, but you’re more interested in his wellbeing? He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe you.
Miguel lets out a sharp breath; a chuckle, as his eyes narrow at you. “You’re unreal, you know that?” Your lips reflect his small smile, “What?! I wanna know, after everything… are you happy?” You repeat the question with utmost genuineness in your tone.
With the answer as obvious to him as the formulas he taught in his class, Miguel simply leans in, hand on the back of your head, and kisses you, then pulling back by just an inch, he speaks softly,
“Now that you’re here, I am.”
A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed it <3 Shoutout to @pomakori for sending this photo in, I absolutely loved it and had to include it in this chapter cuz it’s so them coded !!!
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(Like ❓❓ this is so them‼️ n u can’t change my mind‼️)
Thank you so much for reading <3 I’m a lil worried about how long it might be, so sorry if I yapped too much on this one 🫶 I just love n care abt him sm, ur honor🥹
Want some more Dadbod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!
Tags<3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi i @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi
@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu
@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni
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messrmoonyy · 2 days
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- Give me my sin again
Arthur Morgan x Female reader
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Request- " if Arthur has a secret lover that he tells no one about and he goes to see her when he can after jobs maybe.shes so kind and devout and good that he thinks he doesn't deserve her. But he be besotted with her obsessed to worship the ground she walks on. Arthur not believing in anything but finding this good woman and wanting to be good for her but maybe knowing he can't
A/N- this is mostly a kind of dive into Arthur's head I like it idk. I also paired this with a request I had about bathing Arthur. It kinda fits. Anyway this is a lil shorter than I normally write but life had been lifing lately Imao. And this got me back into writing something for the first time in a lil bit so! Do enjoy.
Warnings- 18+ | some religious imagery, a small chunk of smut right near the end (oral, R receiving) { wc- 3.4k}
Masterlist | AO3
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Arthur was not a good man . He feared he never had been. Not really. No matter how many people could try convince him otherwise. He wasn’t. He was bad. He did bad things. A good man didn’t murder, rob, manipulate.
He was no saint. So incredibly far from it.
And yet with you? Well… he felt he could be.
You with your delicate hands that soothed his bruised and battered skin, your voice like that of an angel on his shoulder that spoke to him with an airy tenderness that he did not deserve.
He was not a holy man. And yet for you he would renounce all sin and drop to his knees to beg for forgiveness and retribution. The only deity worth worshipping in his eyes. His slice of heaven always waiting to chase the darkness from his mind. If just for a few hours.
He was drawn to you like there was something mystical in your words, hypnotising him, controlling him, luring him in with nothing but a smile. He would find himself stumbling his way to your door, just to drop down at your feet and beg. Beg for you to erase his sins and show him grace, Allow him the privilege of being in your presence for a while. Because in that awful, terrible world he’d found himself in… nothing felt right but you.
And so there he was again. At your door. Standing there in the rain as he waited for you to answer. His knuckles bruised on the wood in the night, praying you’d be awake, two rabbits slung over his shoulder. As if they could be excuse enough to spend more time with you.
That he had brought you supplies. And that of course he wouldn’t mind skinning them for you. No it really wasn’t a bother.
Though deep down he knew he didn’t need an excuse. That you would always welcome him in with open arms and at times had even begged him not to leave again. But he always felt like he needed the excuse… maybe more to convince himself of something rather than you.
He knocked again. Hoping, praying you were still awake.
And you were. As if you’d been waiting. Maybe you had. But probably not. It has been weeks. 3. 4? He wasn’t sure. But weeks . Weeks that had felt like some kind of condemnation for his sins, being punished by having to stay away. Dutch in one ear, Strauss in the other. A gaggle of others behind him.
Like some guard dog sent out to attack. Kill. Rob. Threaten. And he was tired. Exhausted. He’d no chance to slip away, no chance to sneak his way to your cabin.
But he was there now.
And so were you.
“ Arthur” you looked ethereal. Stood there in the doorway, backlit by the lamp in the room behind you. You didn’t sound surprised to see him. More relieved than anything.
He knew he worried you. Knew you must be sick with it when he went away for weeks on end, no sign he was alive other than another article on the front of the paper about Dutch and the gang robbing something or other.
He walked in as you stepped aside, standing in the warmth of your small home. He’d arranged it for you some time back. Some place to keep you safe.
“ I missed you “ you said, your arms wrapping around his rain soaked torso. Your head resting against his chest, breathing out like you had just received your first gasp of air after being held underwater for too long.
“ I missed you too “ he murmured, his free arm wrapping around you. Strong. Secure. Steady. You were grounding, dragging him out of a haze he had been stuck in to coax him back to reality “ brought you these “ he said, his voice low. Gruff even. He felt like he couldn’t raise his voice in there. That if he did the illusion would shatter and he’d wake up in his tent. All of it some cruel dream to taunt him.
“ thank you “ you said, your voice soft “ I’ll skin them later “ that made Arthur smile, a chuckle escaping his lips. The first in 4 weeks.
“ darlin’ I’ve seen the way you skin game. I ain’t lettin’ you anywhere near ‘em you’ll butcher the damn things “ his voice was gentle with his teasing, but it was true. He’d once left you to it, letting you skin the game he’d brought you. Only to return to what looked like a massacre had taken place on your kitchen table “ I’ll do it “
You laughed a little yourself and nodded
“ yeah I… I ain’t the best huh “ he dropped the rabbits on the table and then turned back to you, he needed to be close to you again.
“ I really did miss ya “ he murmured, reaching out to tuck his fingers under your chin so you’d look up at him “ sorry I ain’t been around much “
He looked down at you, just looking. Admiring. You were so beautiful . So unbelievably gorgeous that it made his heart ache. So beautiful that even death would hesitate to pluck you up into his waiting arms. Because to remove you from the earth would be too vicious even for him, to devoid the planet of such beauty would be low even by his standards.
“ where y’been? “ you asked softly, leaning into his touch “ doin’ bad things again? “
“ real bad things sweetheart “ he murmured.
You never really asked him for more details. Never went delving into what dark and desperate things he found himself doing for Dutch. You'd push from time to time. But never asked anything too damning. You knew he was bad. Never asked him to confess his sins to you, you just let them lie. Let him forget them for a while whilst he was with you.
“ that mess in Valentine… was that you? “ she asked “ read about it in the papers. Claiming it was Van Der Linde boys. And I figured… that usually means you “ Arthur sighed, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him.
He didn’t deserve the way you gazed at him. The way you admired him. The way you peeled back each layer of terribleness to see the good hidden deep underneath.
“ yeah “ he didn’t attempt to lie. What was the need? You knew anyway “ Strauss took a bullet. Old bastards still breathin’ though unfortunately “ he murmured and stepped away from you. He felt tetchy. Needed to busy his hands.
You seemed to gather the point. That that was enough for now. That you didn’t need to know the who’s, the when’s, they why’s. He’d told you the vague outline. Skimmed the tale. And that was enough.
“ well… you gonna sort theme rabbits f’me? I’ll cook you up somethin’ nice “ Arthur gave a small smile at your willingness to let his vague stories stay exactly that. To know he did bad things, but not wishing to know exactly what those things were.
And so you both fell into an almost domestic scene. The comfortable quiet that could settle around two people doing their own thing, two people just happy to be in each others company. Two people comfortable together.
He skinned the game as you pottered about doing something or other in the kitchen around him. It felt nice. A scene he could almost see himself having permanently.
Maybe somewhere back out west. Some little cabin or ranch, just you and him. And some sheep or chickens or something. That damn rancher life Dutch had been harping on about for so long… but just you two.
A ring on your finger. A family. Domesticity that he never truly realised he’d craved.
But that was all some hopeless dream wasn’t it.
So he’d savour those moments for now. The quiet bliss. The escape from everything back at camp. His quiet comfortable time with you.
He finished the game, washing off his hands and placed himself behind you, arms around your waist and a gentle kiss to your cheek.
Those moments were his. His true escape and joy. When he could feel vulnerable. Affectionate.
You were the only true receiver of his affections. You brought it out of him. A constant deep desire within him to want to hold you. Kiss you. Love you. Something he usually tried to keep buried.
It was a tender scene. His chin propped on your shoulder, his arms around you. You often joked that it baffled you how this man that was so tender with you, so caring. So… soft. Was wanted dead or alive in multiple states.
His true moments of retribution came when he was with you like that. When he could hold you and be gentle. Pour out all his emotions and feelings via his actions.
Including the times when he was able to press you into your mattress. Your bed, his saving grace, his chance to truly worship every inch of you. And worship he did. Hands determined and insistent on your soft skin, mapping out your curves and edges to commit them to memory. Lips burning as they trailed your body to commit each inch to his brain.
The way your hands gripped at him, your fingernails piercing his skin and keeping him grounded. Reminding him it was all real he was sane. And the sounds you made more beautiful than any angel, whispering his name in his ear.
He always made sure to worship every part of you. Kissing in the most uncommon of places. His lips brushing your hip bone. The inside of your wrist. Each and every divet of your spine. Making sure you knew he cared. That he appreciated every second he had of you. That you weren’t some hurried little triste that he kept hidden away until he felt an itch needed to be scratched. That this side of things wasn’t a necessity. But simply just a way to prove his points.
He made sure you knew you were his everything. The one thing keeping him holding on to his morality, his one tether to the right side of things.
Afterwards he would lay there with you. Your body’s intwined and your fingers stroking through his hair. And he’d wonder when he’d get to see you again. When he’d be able to return to your arms. Missing you before he’d even left
And he desired it now.
It wasn’t even an inherently lust fuelled desire. But a desire to simply be close. To hold. To touch. To feel. To be touched in a way of care and to touch in a way that showed love not violence. To prove he could touch with love. That not everything he did needed to be violent.
So he turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands. And kissed you. Firm. But not rushed. Purposeful. His hands pulling gently at your hips to hold you flush against him. Some silent request for more.
But you held your hands firmly to his chest as he kissed you, like you could read his mind.
“ ain’t lettin’ you into my bed like this “ you said with a slight sternness to your tone that made him smile “ you look like you went swimmin’ in the swamps “ he chuckled at your words and nodded.
“ and I thought you enjoyed a rugged man “ he teased, his voice low and thick. He always spoke like he needed to be quiet with you. Like inside those four walls of your cabin if he spoke any louder he’d shatter the facade and you’d vanish.
“ rugged. Not filthy “ you teased with a smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek “ I’ll draw you a bath “
He watched you slip from his grasp, disappearing to arrange it. Simply because you wanted to. You didn’t have to. You weren’t the type to be some slave of a wife to a man that demanded everything of you. And he was not the type to be that kind of husband.
You simply just cared. Had too much care and kindness in your heart.
When it was ready you called him through. The whole thing still as quiet and calm as it had been since he’d stepped through your door.
The contrast always shocked him.
“ c’mon. Whilst it’s hot sugar “ you said softly, grabbing gently at his jacket from behind to help him shed it.
Being naked in front of you wasn’t always some lust filled moment. It was… natural. Intimate in ways different from those fuelled by sex. Vulnerable. Completely bare and unarmed. A way no one but you got to see him. A way he was certain he could never really trust anyone as much as you.
“need some time alone or ya want a hand? “ you asked softly, perching on the side of the tub. It was a little small. Or maybe he was a little big. Probably both.
He didn’t need your help not at all. But he’d take every single second he could have with you. Each tick of the clock was precious.
“ like my own personal bath girl ain’t ya darlin? “ he said with a smirk which made you smile, but roll your eyes.
“ I don’t think I’m as complimentary “ you said softly, dipping a cloth into the water to wash away the dirt and dust that came from sleeping outdoors and riding on horseback all day “ god the state of ya Arthur “ you sighed, gently washing over bruises and cuts.
You were used to that though. Arthur’s body had been littered in scars and bruises as long as he could remember.
“ ain’t nothin serious “ he said and it just made you sigh.
Your touch was so gentle against his battered skin. As if washing away all the bad he’d done in the 4 weeks between seeing you. As if he would step out of that tub and out of your door a new man, that he’d be restored to new from your gentleness alone. He could pretend at least.
“ need t’eat more “ you murmured softly, your fingers trailing down his side “ gettin’ skinny “ it felt nice to hear concern. For someone to worry about him. For someone to notice “ I do worry bout ya Arthur “ you said quietly as if reading his mind “ more so lately “
He sighed and nodded
“ I know my darlin’. I know “
“ ain’t never been this bad “
“ I know ” he glanced up at you as you ran soap suds through his hair, your fingers soft and gentle on the knots.
“ cant help feelin’ like… like one day you just ain’t gonna come back here “ he closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. He hadn’t that this was how it was. That he worried you. That he caused you so much stress and anxiety “ I knew the deal when we first met but… Arthur what the hell happened back in Blackwater? “
His jaw involuntarily tensed at the mention of Blackwater. Because Arthur didn’t really know what had happened. He’d heard different accounts. Dutch said one thing. John another. The papers something else.
All he did know, was deep down even without the evidence to prove the fact, it had something to do with Micah. Micah and his impulsive tendencies
“ darlin’ “ he sighed again “ I ain’t even sure. I weren’t there you know I weren’t “ he hung his head a little and closed his eyes for a moment “ whatever it was it was bad. And Dutch… he’s got all these plans. Ranching or god damn mangoes in Tahiti I don’t know look- “ he reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly “ whatever that mess was, I gotta help them pick up the pieces. Y’know I do “
“ yeah. I know “ you said quietly
“ but once they got enough money, they can go off and have their South Pacific dreams… and I’ll be free to go where I like. Right back here. T’you “ he didn’t quite believe it himself. And it felt cruel to say it when he truly thought about it. But some part of him felt that if he spoke it out loud, maybe it could happen.
But then again. Maybe not.
You didn’t seem convinced. Not at all. That look in your eyes that seemed filled with sadness and longing. Longing for a life he couldn’t give you. Not yet.
“ sounds like a real nice dream “ you said quietly, standing up to grab him a towel to dry off
“ it is darlin. It is. And you keep dreamin’ it cause I will make it happen. I swear it to ya I will “ he wrapped the towel around him and stepped out of the tub, placing his hands on your shoulders “ I will darlin “
You gave him a gentle smile and reached up to brush the backs of your fingers across his cheek, nodding softly
“ I’ll keep dreamin “
As was the usual he ended up in your bed again, desperate to prove his point and show you his true devotion. Purging his sins with his head between your thighs.
His fingers gently traced along your folds, spreading them gently. He groaned as he felt you quiver and twitch under his touch, the feeling and sound making him more and more insatiable. More desperate to please. His thumb ran up and pressed against your clit, rubbing firmly, almost possessively like he was trying to mark the territory as his. Watching your reactions as you squirmed below him, heavenly sounds escaping your mouth.
“ so good Arthur “
Your mewling and whining was like music to his ears, he could listen to it all day. Hearing you moan out your praises only made his tongue move faster, his efforts to bring you to climax increasing. His hands gripping your thighs, using his free hand to push your hips down gently.
It was never about him in those moments. Didn’t care for getting any kind of release himself. He just cared about you. As if doing something so selfless would free him of his vengeful, selfish ways from the last few weeks.
He circled your clit, giving you the attention you needed and wanted from him, making up for his absence with every swipe of his tongue, listening to the pretty moans you made. His tongue swiped across you again and again, licking a strip over your sensitive skin just wanting to touch you everywhere.
Your soft moans and writhing movements were enough to drive him crazy, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs.
“ m’so… Arthur I- “ you spoke brokenly, your hand patting around softly before grabbing onto his “ Arthur “ your soft whimper of his name made him groan hungrily, his fingers instantly lacing with yours
“ right here darlin. Ain’t goin no where “
He hummed softly against you, feeling your muscles tighten under his tongue. He pressed his tongue flat against you, giving a long, slow lick. He was addicted to the taste, he just wanted more of you. Like he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. He groaned softly again, the vibrations of the sound clearly doing you wonders.
He could feel your walls beginning to clench around his tongue as he thrust it inside of you,your hand squeezing down on his and you softly mewled his name over and over . And a few more flicks of his tongue was enough, your back arching from your bed with a high pitched whine. Your thighs clamping around his head making him moan against you, not stopping in his ministrations. Fervently licking and lapping until you went slack, gently pushing at his head.
“ oh Jesus “ you whispered with a soft, breathy laugh “ I don’t know how you’re so good at that “ he smirked softly and crawled back over your body, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“ you give me enough practice “ he murmured with a smile, tilting your head so that he could kiss you.
“ did you really mean what you said earlier?” You asked quietly as he pulled back, your fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead “ that dream. We’ll really have that some day? “
He looked down at you. So hopeful. So desperate to love and to be loved. By him. He wanted to give you the world. To hand you anything and everything you wanted and needed on a silver platter before you could even ask for it.
Deep down he wished he could. A small, tiny part of him hoping that one day he really could fulfil that desire. Be… normal. A rancher or a farm hand. You, his wife. A kid.
But a louder, but stronger part of him told him he couldn’t. That he’d never really escape. That something would always be in the way. Something would always stop him.
But looking down at you, that loving hopeful look. He couldn’t tell you that.
“ yeah. Yeah darlin’ we will “
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pinkyqil · 2 days
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Irene has that van so maybe she and Ileana go on an adventure in the van?
Adventure time funsies // Irene paredes kid fic
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Summary : Irene takes you on a mother daughter date with the van.
Autor's notes : here's some more of Irene and her daughter lleana/r feel free to send some hcs about Irene crazy lil pepe i do have more chapter's coming soon for butterfly and as always feedbacks and request are appreciated hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing.
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Today was another special day for you after last week events. your mami had planned a mother's daughter day for both of you. but not only that you guys where taking the special van for the whole day which got you really excited.
Irene had just finished getting everything ready at the back of the van.
She had planned the whole thing wanting make up for lost time. as she didn't like making empty promises to you and not being able to fulfill them.
And this week happened to be the best one too plan everything out no games and practice everything was going to be prefect for you her little princess.
"llena let's get going princess". Irene called out.
"Coming mami just want to get my ball". you said before running out thinking she wouldn't know
"No running what did i tell you about it". She said yelled out.
"Fine". You yelled back trying to figure out how she knew when she was outside.
"Come on let's get you in there". Your mami told you as she picked you up and placing you in your big girl car seat before going to lock the houes doors.
"No touching anything I'll be right back be my good girl alright". She told you
"Sí mami".
"That's my girl". She said proceeding to give you a peck and locking the door.
You did as your mami said even though you wanted to try getting off your car seat. and push all the buttons but no you sat there quietly like the good girl you are.
Your mami didn't take her time and hurried back quickly.
"Mami where we going". you asked her
"That I can't tell you mi bebé". She said ruffling your hair before starting the van.
"Umph me wanna know mami". You tried convincing her to tell you.
"Well if you wanna know you just have to wait". she said.
"Me no wanna wait". You whined getting annoyed at that she wouldn't tell you where.
"How about we play I spy". She suggested
"Fine". You said even though you knew it was too distracte you.
"I go first mami".
"That's okay by me".
"I spy with my big big eye something blue and red". You told her after spotting the object
"Princess it my little eye". She told you
"No big big eye". You told her
"No it little eye". She said
"Big". you yelled really loud
"Okay okay peque no more yelling".
"Ummm the van". She asked
"Silly mami the van not red and blue". You said this time around but laughing at your Silly mom's mistake.
"How about your sippy cup it-"
"Wrong again mami you have last try". You told her giggling with your hands in your face couldn't believe how funny your mami is.
"You think your so smart why don't you tell ke what it's huh".
"My barca ball it's blue and red you got it wrong I win". You said now making silly faces at her.
Irene couldn't scold especially after seeing your adorable smile even though you are being naughty to her.
"mami I tired". You said letting her know before sleep was taking over your small body.
"But we just started playing". she said. by time she looked over at you, your eyes already gone shut.
For the next few hours of Irene driving you had already woken up from your small nap. She gave your homemade peanut butter sandwich in butterfly shaped.
if any of your stuff wasn't butterfly themed you refuse to use it. an habit she was trying to get rid of.
"Are we there yet mami". You asked her as you were coloring in your butterfly coloring book when she let you get off your car seat.
"Almost bebé". She told you
"Okay". you said getting back to coloring.
You guys had finally arrived when you felt the van stopped. and your mami coming to get you out of the van.
"Here we are princess".
"Wow so many pretty butterflies". Was the only thing you said.
Irene had brought you both to a beach side that was known for it magnificent butterflies and hiking spot. figuring out the best place for you guys to bound would be here. especially with your love for nature more like what it has to offer.
"Come on princess let's go unpack the van cause that where we're spending the nights in". she said putting you down so that you could walk.
"Okay". You said finally being able to stretch and run.
"No running princess".
"That's not fun". You told her
"You'll thank me when you don't get any scratches". She said.
Half the day was spent with you guys taking a walk on the beach,taking pictures and having a picnic with the lovely butterflies. that surrounded you and your mami. eventually you feel asleep as the sun was setting.
which Irene carried you back to the van laying right next to you as you clearly enjoyed your time.
Ireneparedes
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un momento perfecto con mi princesa liked by alexiaputellas and 7,089 others
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ladypen1796 · 1 day
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I have a hot take on Eloise and would love others thoughts!
Especially in season 3 and rewatching the entire series over the past few weeks I truly have come to not enjoy Eloise and she truly was someone I adored on my first watch as she thought outside the box for a early time period. Here are my reasons why I don't care for her.
- first off she never really listened to Pen until she realized she was Lady Whistledown. It took her actually hearing what pen was saying for her to realize who she truly was. IMO friends listen. There's a part in s2 episode early on, where pen makes a plant pun while Eloise is trying to make her run from possible suitors trying to dance with her and fetch her lemonade. Eloise totally ignores this and it's as if pen knows she's being ignored and then writes a plant pun on the next release in whistledown.
Now I'm not saying every friend is 100% invested into what the other is saying but this is an example of Eloise not listening to Pen.
-Second, everyone around Eloise even Colin is like am I seeding what I'm seeing? Is Eloise friends with Cressida? After the fall out of Eloise and pen I understand that she wasn't going to be talking to pen but did she have to go out of her way and go be friends with her ex friends bully? In my opinion this is not a girls girl thing to do and Eloise screams feminism.
-s1 Eloise was always saying men have it better off than woman. Which I still believe stands in this day and age, but that is nearly my opinion. However, I do think compared to not even just pen but also Cressida Eloise had the luxury of always having a supportive family and just a relatively easy life. (Yes I know she lost her father that is never easy. Which is something I can relate to) however, the support and wealth she has been able to have the opportunity to be a free thinker which in her time period was not something woman had the opportunity to do.
Also I'd like to say I'm not an Eloise hater and can't wait to see what they do with her. If they follow the books. I just love to open discussion because I have an unhealthy relationship with Bridgerton lol 😂 thanks for coming to my Ted talk. 💜
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Imagine meeting Rob Lucci again on Egghead Island
Warning: Contains spoilers! If you aren't caught up in the Egghead arc and don't want spoilers, don't read.
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Rob: [tied up and unconscious on the floor of Vegapunk's lab]
You: [glaring at him from the other side of the room]
Stussy: Oh my, that's quite a scary look. It's almost like you know him.
You: I do know him, or at least I thought I did... A little over two years ago I lived on Water 7 where I worked for an engineering firm, and had a life, and a boyfriend.
Stussy: {looks shocked and points at Rob] Was he your boyfriend?
You: Yup, but I got transferred here shortly before he tried to kill Iceberg, who is my adoptive father. We used to exchange letters, and then one day they just stopped, and then three weeks later I got a letter from Iceberg that explained everything.
Stussy: That must have come as quite a shock.
Kaku: [wakes up] what the? [looks around, before cringing away when he notices you] oh dear.
You: [glares] Is that all you have to say to me?
Kaku: Listen, it was just a job, it wasn't personal.
You: Really? Because trying to murder members of my family feels really personal to me, buddy.
Kaku: [Nods to Robin] Technically, she shot Iceberg.
Robin: I shot him the first time, and I didn't feel I had another choice because you were threatening my friends and I didn't know what to do.
You: The second time was Blueno, and then you and Rob beat Paulie, and then left both Iceburg and Paulie tied up inside a burning building!
Kaku: we did do that, didn't we...
You: not to mention Rob played with my feelings by pretending to be a loving boyfriend.
Kaku: I swear that wasn't pretended Lucci really does love~
Rob: That's enough, Kaku.
You: You can talk! Why am I surprised, everything was a lie, wasn't it?
Rob: .... not everything [looks up at you, clearly pouting that he's being admonished]
You: I don't believe you.
Rob: ... can we discuss this in private, please?
You: no, we can't, I do not want to be alone with the World Noble's attack dog.
Rob: I'm a cat.
You: Excuse me?
Rob: I am a Zoan-type devil fruit user, the Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Leopard, specifically.
You: I don't care, because then you're just plain bad at being a cat.
Rob: Bad at being a cat!
You: yes, because if you knew a damn thing about cats, then you'd know you don't ever actually own a cat, you just live with one. They don't listen, they don't obey, and they most certainly don't respect you. So, I suppose, you were good at being a cat when it came to me, but bad when it comes to the world nobles.
Rob: That's not true...
You: save it, I don't want to hear your excuses.
Rob: [Takes a deep breath] They're not excuses, it's true I got close to you in the first place because of Iceberg, but I grew genuine feelings for you once I got to know you. I know I hurt you, it's why I stopped writing you after what happened in Water 7.
Nami: And because his ego was bruised because our captain whooped his ass.
Kaku: He was also in a coma for like a week afterward.
Rob: I figured by then you would have already had word from Water 7 of what happened, so I didn't want to rub salt into the wounds by trying to stay in your life, and that a clean cut was best for you.
You: [remembering that Iceberg had said he wouldn't be upset with you if you elected to stay with Rob] ... Where is Hattori?
Rob: what?
You: Where is Hattori?
Rob: He flew away when Stussy attacked.
You: I'll go get him...
Rob: [smirks[ thank you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. Although he might not recognize you, you've glowed up since your Water 7 days. [winks]
You: [rolls your eyes] I know single life suits me, so save your smooth talk tough guy, it doesn't work on me [lying].
Rob: uh huh
You: [feels your cheeks heat up as your heart flutters, and you avoid eye contact with Lucci] Whatever, I'll go look for your bloody bird.
Rob: [eagerly watches the door slide shut behind you] It's still there
Stussy: What's still there?
Rob: I believe most people call it, "a spark between us'.
Nami: [dramatically gags]
Kaku: Dude, they always liked Hattori more than you, don't go getting a head of yourself.
Rob: [kicks him] zip it.
Stussy: [sighs] men are so stupid.
Robin: [nods in agreement]
Shaka: [judges in silence]
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scarletwinterxx · 22 hours
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little flower - dad haechan scenario
hellloooo, it's a bit late for Haechan day but better late than never😊 a quick fluff moment with our fullsun and his lily girl. hope you like it!!
pt. 1 - Lee and Lily
pt. 2 - bigger that the whole sky
pt. 3 - lily and chocobi
if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌
For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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Between you and your husband, he tends to be the one who overreact. Especially where you're concerned. You thought he's overprotective over you already but he managed to succeed himself when you found out you're expecting.
It doesn't bother you though, you're used to your golden retriever husband's antics. When he's home, he has to be in the same room as you. When he's at work he would text you or call when he's available to make sure you're okay at home.
You've been adviced by your doctor to avoid any stress and strenuous activities. You and Haechan had a long serious talk after that doctor's appointment, you both were working at that time and he didn't want to stop you living your life. But as your husband, he wants to make sure you and the baby is safe so he asked if you could stay at home just how the doctor adviced. You understand where he's coming from, so you agreed. You wanted your baby to be safe.
And now 39 weeks laters, you feel like you're as large as a balloon. Most of the times waddling around the house clad in your husband's clothes since that's the only thing that fits you at this point.
Haechan loves it. He loves watching you grow each week. To his eyes you are the most radiant woman he's ever laid his eyes on. And the fact that you're growing his baby just makes him fall even more in love with you.
Not a day passes by without him reminding you of how thankful he is of you and how much he loves you and your little human.
"She's being dramatic, like you" you tell him one night while he watches her little foot kick against the inside of your belly, revealing a tiny imprint on your tummy.
Haechan caresses your belly gently. his hand against your skin feeling her kicks from inside you. "Still can't believe she's in there, moving and all that"
"Soon she'll be here, kicking you too" you joke
"I would gladly be her own personal punching bag or kick board or whatever she needs me to be"
You smile at that, you just know he's going to be the best dad to her.
"You do that, i think my insides are done being her practice tools. I can feel her other foot against my lung"
"Does it hurt? What do you need? You need to sit up?"
"I'm okay, just a bit short of breath. She'll move around eventually, probably later she'll sit on my bladder again then I'd have to pee every freaking second again"
Haechan kisses your belly a few more times before sooching up the bed to lay against the headboard  beside you
"We have dinner at my parent's tomorrow, do you want to stay the night there or drive home after?"
It's his birthday tomorrow so his mom invited you over for dinner, since you're due any day now Haechan decided not to do anything grand. He didn't want you to get tired or stressed over planning his birthday.
"We can stay, won't it be too late if we drive back? You'll be tired bub"
"I'm good, it's just driving but sure if you want to stay the night. She won't come out tomorrow wouldn't she?" He jokes.
Your husband might as well have a foresight because the next day during dinner with his family, you started to feel your belly contract. At first you didn't think too much of it but as the night progressed, you're starting to think of the possibility you're having contractions right now.
For a while you didn't tell anyone, you didn't want to take the day away from Haechan. It's his day after all.
During dinner, just as Haechan's mom about to serve dessert you felt something warm. You look over at Haechan, grabbing his arm catching his attention
"Either I peed or my water just broke"
"What?"
"Yep, I think my water just broke"
"Y/N's water just broke" Haechan just said catching everyone's attention then everyone was on their feet. Haechan on your right while his mom stands on your left, guiding you to stand up
"Honey, can you get towels from the bathroom. And a change of clothes. I think your brother has some in his old room. Do you need anything else" his mom asks you calmly
"The stuff, I mean the baby's stuff" you tell her
"It's already packed but we left it at home. I only have the carseat right now" Haechan adds
"Your dad will go get everything, go to the hospital first. Do you want to come?" she asks you, her mother instincts kicking in. Right now all of the attention is on you.
"Will you?" you ask, she smiles warmly at you holding your arm tightly but in a comforting way "Of course, dear. Hyuck, go start the car"
The drive was less hectic, all thanks to Haechan's mom. She kept on telling you comforting words all the way to the hospital, you got settled in and now the waiting game begins.
You got there just in time, the doctor checked and asked if you wanted to get epidural which you said yes to. Your pain tolerance goes as high as 2. You cry whenever your headache gets too bad, you can't imagine delivering a baby all natural. Kudos to those who do but that's not you.
"You need anything?" Haechan asks, brushing the hair away from your face. Ever since you arrived here, he hasn't left your side. He only lets go of your hand when the doctor or nurses need to check on you
"Ice chips?"
"I'll go get more" Haechan's mom volunteers, walking out the room to get your request
"Sorry we can't finish your birthday dinner" you tell your husband
Haechan shakes his head, smiling down at you "This is better than any party. How cool would it be if she's born today? We'd have the same birthday"
"Your daughter isn't even here yet and she's already so much like you. Announcing her entrance to the world like this" you chuckled
Hearing the words 'your daughter' does something to him, like a blanket of warmth wrapping all over him. He hasn't even met her yet and he's already so so so in love with your baby girl.
"I can't wait to meet her, we'll have her here in a few hours"
"Are you excited?" you ask him
"Of course, I'm never putting her down. She's gonna stay in my arms forever"
"Silly"
"I'm not kidding. You got a headstart, I'm gonna make sure I'm her favorite" he says with a determined look on his face, you don't even try to argue back
"You're my favorite" you mumble
He just looks at you for a while, admiring you. He leans down, kissing you on the forehead. "I love you so so much. I know you're about to hate me once you start pushing but it's okay" he jokes
And he, once again, was right. You felt bad, cursing him out as you push his baby out of you while his mother heard every word. "It's okay, dear. Don't worry about it, I know how it feels"
"I don't really like you right now" you mumbled, taking a break from pushing
"You liked me enough to carry my baby" he replies
"Shut up"
A few more pushes before you hear her cries fill the room, the nurses lay her on your chest while Haechan stands right beside you
"Oh my gosh, she's here. She's so cute" you hear the nurses mumble, Haechan's mom capturing the moment from the sideline
Meanwhile Haechan stands frozen, looking at the little human in your arms
"What are you doing over there? Come here" you ask him, Haechan scoots closer, holding his pinky finger out to your baby girl which she holds with her tiny hands.
Haechan lets out a sob, not able to contain it.
"It's okay, she's the worth the tears Hyuck" you tell him. Your free hand caress his now tear stained cheeks
"Hey baby girl, happy birthday" he mumbles, still looking at her
"You wanna hold her?"
"I don't know how"
"Yeah well you gotta start learning, daddy. Here, hold her" you say, ever so carefully Haechan takes her from you. His mom stands behind him to take a peak
"She has your nose" she tells him
"She does, doesn't she" you say with a tired smile
"Hi baby, it's me. I'm your dad. You recognize my voice right? I sing to you every night and tell you stories" he tells her like she understands his words
After a few more minutes with her, a nurse takes her from Haechan to check up on her. He takes this time to check on you,
"She's perfect. Thank you" he tells you
"Thank me? You made her too" you joke, he smiles at you then kisses you sweetly
"Happy birthday, Donghyuck. What shall we name our little girl?"
"Nari, like the little Lily flower"
You smile at his explanation, "Your little flower, our little flower. I love it. Happy birthday Hyuck and Nari, I love you both so so much"
"Best birthday ever"
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lacebird · 1 year
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less than half an hourrrrrr OMGGGGGG
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theflyingfeeling · 6 months
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fic talk in the tags 💝
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54prowl · 2 months
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I remember this person I used to consider a friend way back who only interacted with me to police what I did or to mention some other person copying something they did and just having general bad juju. heavy black hole vibe...
anyway if you've read this and the tags, drop me a paw print boop 🐾🐾
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cinnamon-phrog · 8 months
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Sometimes aI get a little paranoid with being ~sad~ here. I have a lot of things I'd like to talk about in a healthy way but there are At least 10+ people stalking me here
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Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 
You wince."...F-Fine?" 
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 
"You look… wet." 
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 
He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 
"Yeah?" 
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 
"Huh. I guess they do." 
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums. 
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name." 
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
He turns to you, lazily. 
"I could tutor you, if you'd like."
"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."
_
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Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings
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edit: the full fic xx
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reverieblondie · 2 months
Text
Remember Me?
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Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...
Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.
A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!
Word Count: 6,823
“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 
“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   
“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 
“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 
At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 
Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.
Is….that…his….yearbook…
It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…
“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 
“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 
Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  
Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 
“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 
Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 
Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”
Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 
“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 
Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 
Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”
The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 
A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…
Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 
“Miggy~”     
The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 
The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 
“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 
Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 
Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 
“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 
The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 
“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 
“Well…technically…I didn’t” 
“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys
Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”
A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 
Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 
“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 
Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 
There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 
“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”
“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 
“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.
“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 
“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 
Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 
“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 
“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 
“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.
Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…
“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.
Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…
Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 
“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 
Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.
“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 
Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 
Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 
“It’s like density!” 
Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…
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They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…
Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  
Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…
High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 
Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 
“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 
A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 
“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 
“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 
God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…
Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…
The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…
Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 
The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…
As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  
“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 
“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”
The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  
“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 
“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 
The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…
“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.
Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 
Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 
He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 
The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.
Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 
“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”
Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…
“Miggy!” 
“Miggy!”
“Miguel?” 
Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 
Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.
“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?
Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 
“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 
“I can not believe how different you look!”
“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?
Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 
“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 
You could eat him alive…and he would let you…
“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 
“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…
“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 
“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 
Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 
The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 
Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 
“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 
“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 
“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…” 
Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 
“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  
Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 
“I thought you were sweet…” 
Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 
“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 
“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”
Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 
Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 
“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”
Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 
Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 
The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 
“Miggy, I always like you…just-”
Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 
“Fuck, miggy~”
Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 
His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 
“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 
A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 
“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 
Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…
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It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…
Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 
“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…
Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 
“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 
Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 
As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  
Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 
Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 
Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 
“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 
Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 
Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 
His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 
Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 
You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 
Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 
With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 
Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 
Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 
Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.
“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 
Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 
“So eager, Miggy~” 
All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 
Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.
“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 
The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…
“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 
“Good…” 
You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 
The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…
With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 
With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 
Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…
With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 
“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…
Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 
He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 
Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 
As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 
Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 
After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 
Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 
“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 
His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 
“Miggy, about time you asked…” 
You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…
3K notes · View notes
lvlyghost · 7 months
Text
Tainted Heart
PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SUMMARY: After not seeing you for a few weeks, you come back to the base acting strange.
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
TW: sexual themes, smut but not too explicit. anxiety, self-doubt. worried!simon, poor baby thinks he's done something wrong💔comfort and fluff, mind the english!🐸
A/N: okay so yeah, i can't believe I finished this so fast. anyway enjoy!🥹✨🫶🏻💚gif's not mine' iloveyousimonriley!💗
Masterlist✨
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You try to even your shaky breathing before opening the door of the meeting room. Taking more than usual to toughen up, the last thing you want is anyone asking if you were okay. Not even your teammates and especially not Simon. Hands trembling when you open and close them, a cold sweat that runs down your spine with the clear signs of anxiety that will soon start to bubble up if you don't get this over with soon.
Another moment passes when all you can hear is your own heart racing in your ears and the world spins for a second; pushing the door open you enter. Everyone's already there, sitting around the wooden table. Four pair of eyes find you, Soap and Gaz smile your way and John nods motioning for you to take your seat next to Ghost. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You need space. You need to be left alone to battle with your own mind. Instead you grab one of the chairs and set it far from them, sitting in the far corner.
Price's eyebrows furrow but doesn't comment on it, merely resuming what he was just telling the rest of the task force. Everyone's attention is back to the Captain except for Ghost. Ghost who's frowning so hard behind the mask at your refusal to join them. It sparks a sense of irritation and worry.
He knows he shouldn't be feeling that way. You are not even together, even if a few nights spent in each other's rooms had taken place, he considered himself something akin to a friend more than just your superior or a few hook ups here and there. Were you important to him? Absolutely yes. He needed to see your eyes, needed you to look his way so he can see through you as he usually does. Your beautiful eyes would tell him what he needed to know.
But you ignore him.
Glaring at Price without really looking. Lost in your head. You know you should be paying attention but it's all static to your ears, it's the sound of every pen writing down on a sheet. Of feet being dragged across the tile floor. Bodies shifting in their seats. Someone sipping on water.
One of the boys making a comment as your leg bounces up and down not being able to stop it. All the voices inside are muffled and you just want to get out of there so bad.
"Sergeant?" Price calls you, raising his voice and pulling yourself back from your stupor.
Eyes blinking rapidly as your attention turns to him and the room is deadly silent. Was that a hair pin dropping in the hallway?
"Yes Captain?" You ask, body numb and cold.
Price sighs.
"I asked if there's anything else you want to know about the mission? You're leaving in two weeks with Ghost."
"Oh." The answer is muttered so lowly they can barely hear your voice. You find the face of the Lieutenant for one second before looking away as if it had burned you. Simon's body goes stiff. "No."
Not convinced but not wanting to push for another answer he dismisses all of you. You're storming out of the room before he's fully done, leaving the four men taken aback by your strange demeanor.
It's not until you've reached the women's barracks that you stop. If anyone had followed you, you didn't notice too preoccupied and deep in that somber haze that's been clouding your mind since you got back from home.
Memories of everything that went wrong. And the memories of the man across the room.
-
A beautiful, warm feeling forms in your belly, big hands tightly hold your waist. His face hiding in the crook of your neck as your arms circle his broad shoulders holding onto him, sinking up and down on his lap. Sweet sounds of skin slapping against skin echo around the quiet night of his room. Simon mutters sweet nothings in your ear as you both chase your highs, coming undone at the same time he forces you took straight to his brown eyes and your heart flutters, overwhelmed at the way he takes in your presence and breathes the essence of you. Just you as a whole. He doesn't let you go until he's spilled everything inside you, massaging you over the soft fabric of your —his— shirt that neither bothered to take off, too enraptured to care.
"Hey, you with me?" giving a small squeeze to your hip Simon let's you touch his face and trace the scars that adorn the uneven parts of his skin. He notices the way your attention seems to drift away from where you are.
"Yeah. Was thinking about us."
His brows lift.
"What about us?" Inhaling deeply you shake your head lifting from your spot and walking on somewhat wobbly legs, Simon follows you to the bathroom wondering why you're acting so strange. "Sweetheart?"
"It's nothing, I promise." He watches as you clean yourself, he could've done it —he has every other time— but now with your sudden change he doesn't know what to think. "I have to go. My parents are waiting for me."
Clenching his jaw he decided to not pressure you on the matter. Ghost was aware that visiting your parents or talking about them struck a nerve within you.
"Want me to give you a ride?" You look at him through the mirror and shake your head in denial.
"I can take the bus."
"Love..."
"It's fine, Simon." You utter. "It's fine."
Turning around on your heels you walk past him, who stays anchored to the same spot outside the bathroom. He watches as you gather your belongings and begin to dress. Simon crosses his arms over his chest.
"Text me when you get home, please?"
A curt nod is all you give him.
-
You never texted him although he had tried to reach out to you in the next few days and you try not to think about everything that's happened as you strip naked and step in the shower. Warm water washing your body, forehead pressing on the cool tiles of the wall. Shoulders shaking, hands coming to your mouth trying to muffle your sobs.
The all too clear picture of your father telling you no one could ever love you. Your mother doing her best to console you when you had told her the truth.
"I- I think I love him mom." sad eyes fixated on the far wall. "And I don't know what to do."
She had taken your hand with a beautiful smile on her lips.
"Any man would be lucky to have you, darling."
Her words resounding in your ears, and your eyes glimmer with hope. Hope that maybe she's right.
But you had promised to never let it get that far. You'll lose him and that's what pains you the most.
Girl's snickering and walking in the shared showers can be heard from behind, you can't see them but the sound of their giggles fade away in an instant. Gone as soon as they came. Turning off the water pipes you wrap yourself with the white towel neatly hung on the bathroom rack and the moment you slide the curtain open you're met with brown eyes leaning against the opposite wall. He's been waiting, hearing you cry. Shooing away all the women who came with a single hard look their way. No doubt gossiping about the Lieutenant being in the women's section.
A long silence stretches between the two before he finally breaks it, pushing himself off the wall and slowly walking towards you, who holds the towel against your body in a vice-like grip.
"Haven't heard from you in days. Weeks." He starts, eyes following the droplets that travel down your body and back to your face. You've been crying. Simon hates seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it. It makes him feel powerless, worthless. What do you call a man that can't even help his girl? "You've been ignoring me. May I ask what's going on?"
He's calm, controlled despite the rage within him. You never texted him back that day, never answered his calls leaving him worried and dwelling on the whole situation.
His own insecurities sparked the worst.
"Nothing, just personal stuff Lt." clearing your throat you try to walk past him but he grabs your arm.
"Bloody hell don't call me that. I'm asking as...-"
"As what?" You bite back, eyes snapping up at him as tears collect in your eyes. Simon grits his teeth he wants to say a lot but no words come out. "You shouldn't be here. People will talk."
"I'm not leaving until you speak. What's got you like this." You shake your head. "Fucking Christ I can't fix this if you don't tell me." He hisses.
"There's nothing to fix!"
"Just bloody talk to me, I'm losing my mind was it something I said?" He's not screaming but he's panting hard. "Was it something I did?!" He demands, big terrified, desperate orbs screaming for a sign.
"I fell in love with you!" You confess, eyes widening in horror at what you just said. Fervently shaking your head and walking back, away from him. Simon's eyes widen for a fraction before he's reaching out again hands cradling your face in them with a wild, desperate look. Your vision blurred thanks to the tears.
"Say it again." He pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. Like the sound of snow falling from the sky during the winter. You freeze in your spot, chewing on your lower lip.
"I fell in love." His body relaxed, all the tension he has been bearing on his shoulders for the past days slowly fades. "And we agreed we couldn't let this happen. Never. Forgive me Simon."
"Silly girl." He breathes in, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
"What?" You mumble, one hand coming up to rest on one of his.
"You're in my mind even when you're not supposed to be."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I'm an idiot." His forehead connects with yours and you can finally breathe again. After the hellish days at home, the sense of being loved and protected by the man you love is enough to overwhelm you. "Thought I was losing you for a moment. Nearly lost my mind, love."
"No. Never." You promise, hugging him tightly against your body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Simon I just... I just didn't know what to do."
"S'alright." He soothes you. "I've got you." Feeling like the luckiest man alive, even if he didn't deserve to be loved.
He remembers the moment when he had fallen for you, the day you smiled up at him under the starry night on the roof of the safe house, covered in blood and dirt.
He knew there would be no one else after you.
5K notes · View notes
flowrmoth · 2 months
Text
...and then what happened? pt. 2
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Synopsis: ellie helps you get ready for another date, but you unexpectedly come back to her apartment a bit earlier than planned...
AN: i have no words for this, just enjoy. i got a little too carried away. hope i did it justice. (i don't know how to write smut all that well lol), also can we agree that ellie definitely whines and whimpers in bed? thanks
WC: 6.6k (jesus)
Warnings: mdni!!! smut!!!, pining, kissing, oral (r!receiving), masturbation, finger sucking, lowk loser!ellie who still gets bitches even if she doesn't do anything, lowk perv!ellie, fem!reader, ellie being sooo desperate for u she cant help herself, seriously the girl is pathetic, no use of Y/N or readers appearance
Part 1: HERE
DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE
WHY YOU SHOULDN'T BUY TLOU2
READ THIS
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Faded red and purple.
Those are the colors Ellie is looking at currently while examining her neck in the mirror. She's looking at the hickey closely, touching and feeling it with her fingers, the colors of it not as vibrant as they were that Saturday night.
The night that Ellie remembers, oh so well. The night that has been on replay in her mind for the past week and a half, haunting her every second of the day. It plays like a movie, over and over, until she runs out of new details to remark. She flips the images of you like a book, mesmerized by the way your body felt on hers. She remembers your skin like she remembers a painting, so soft, so warm, so inviting.
She wishes for nothing more than to touch you like that again, but she can't.
Because you're going on another date tonight.
Ellie drops her hand from her neck and shuts her eyes, head dropping low. She looks at her hands, gripping the white marble of her bathroom sink until her own knuckles turned the same color.
Why can't she get over it, like she does with other girls? Why does it have to be so hard with you?
She knew she was fucked from the moment her eyes landed on you a year and some months ago, while attending Dinas party. The way you strutted in, all smiles and pearly whites, extending your pretty hand to greet hers. Dina had warned Ellie not to mess with you, for Ellie had 'ruined' a handful of friendships between Dina and her friends who couldn't help but fall for the brunette girl, even if it wasn't her intention.
Ellie at the time, scoffed at this, treating it like a joke, but she soon saw how unbelievably difficult it was to not look at you that way.
She swears that she tried so hard not to hang around you, avoiding you like the plague. Every time Dina or Jesse would invite her to come out she would make up some type of excuse that would rid her of her friends.
"Ellieee, pleaseee! We haven't seen you in so long! Don't be a party pooper or I'll come there and take your stash and smoke it all." Dina pleaded with a whiny voice on the phone for the 10th what time.
"Oh my god, okay, who's coming?" Ellie rolled her eyes at this, anticipating Dina's answer.
"Yes, Jesus, finally you're getting your ass out of that bed! Uh, it's gonna be me, Jesse, Tyler..." she continued on until Ellie heard your name fall from Dinas lips. Her breath hitched in her throat as her heart danced in her chest.
"D, wait! I'm sorry! I just remembered, I have a physics assignment for tomorrow. I... I swear I'll make it up to you! Also, I do other shit than lay in b-" Ellie had to think quick and uni assignments always worked for these type of situations.
"I can't believe you. You owe me big time, Williams! I better have three blunts rolled by tomorrow! Be ready, bitch." and with that Dina hung up the call while Ellie sighed out a shaky breath of relief.
That's how it always went back then, they would call and Ellie would say no, she can't, she's busy.
But she couldn't keep at it for too long, you were becoming incredibly close with Dina and Jesse and Ellie knew she had to face you eventually. So, she started going out, and every time, her heart would flutter when she saw you. Her excuses were long gone and gradually, she tried to make time to see you as much as possible. You were, of course, just as eager to see her, finding her incredibly cool and funny, not to mention good looking.
Pretty soon you were inseparable, and nowadays Ellie finds herself waiting for your texts about your weekly sleepovers or a game of pool at your local bar.
Ellie steps away from her sink, wiping her hands on her grey sweatpants. Her gaze once again falls on her puzzled expression. She tries not to think about your date tonight, but so far she's been failing miserably.
Fuck my life, she thinks.
She gets out of the bathroom and heads towards her couch, wanting nothing more than to put on a dinosaur movie and smoke away her feelings. She plops down on the cushions and searches for the missing TV remote. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie sees her phone on the coffee table light up and your name and picture flash on the cracked screen. She nervously reaches over and clears her throat before answering the call.
"Uhm, yeah? What's up?" Ellie cringes at the sound of her raspy voice, these being the first words she had spoken today.
"Ellie! Where are you? I've called you, like, 5 times already. Are you home? I need help getting ready and my roommate brought her boyfriend over and, ugh, I just can't deal with that. Can I come over?" you ramble, obviously in a rush since it was already 5 PM and your date started at 8.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm home. Come over!" Ellie said rather enthusiastically, much to her dismay. She shuts her eyes in embarrassment.
"Great! You're a life saver, love you! Be there in 15." you say happily and end the call.
Love you!
The words you uttered so nonchalantly hung in the air while Ellie tried not to take them to heart. She puts the phone back on the table and looks around.
Fuck, she had to clean up the place at least.
Ellie frantically got up and started moving things around, putting them back in their designated places. Food delivery bags, sweets and cigarette butts were all over the place. When she was satisfied, she figured she should change into something... better smelling than she had on currently. Ellie hadn't left the house in, at least, 2 days, not having the energy to interact with people. She spent them catching up on homework and watching movies. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because of your newfound crush, but that meant she would be lying to herself.
Ellie threw the shirt she had on into the hamper and put on a fresh band T. She changed her sweats into a pair of grey shorts and put on some citrusy deodorant, maybe even spraying some into the living room to freshen it up. She quickly brushed her teeth and messed with her hair.
By the time she was done, you were already knocking on her door. Ellie looked at herself in the mirror one last time before deciding that she looked decent enough and opening the door for you to come in.
As always, you give her a big, warm smile and throw your hands around her neck, giving her a hug. It took Ellie a second to respond but she returns your hug with a light squeeze.
"Hey, you." she rasped into your hair, inhaling your coconut shampoo.
"Hey, Els! Hope you don't mind me being here. You know how Alex gets when her boyfriend comes around, I just can't." you say while rolling your eyes. You kick off your shoes and scan the room, heading towards Ellies couch and putting down your big bag.
"Yeah, I get it. Like when Dina and Jesse can't keep their hands off each other. Yuck." Ellie laughs, moving to sit down next to you.
"Exactly!" you start shuffling through your blue duffle, pulling out some clothes and a big, glittery makeup bag. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom? I need to do my makeup perfectly and the lighting is so good there." you ask Ellie with pleading eyes and a smirk, which she simply couldn't say no to.
"Of course, you don't even have to ask." Ellie throws you a lazy smile.
"Thank you!" you tell her excitedly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. You get up with all of your stuff and stride towards the bathroom.
Ellie feels her cheeks getting warmer and redder. She gets up and follows you, "So, uh, are you excited to see, uh... her?" she utters with a nervous laugh, already forgetting your dates name even if you reminded her a million times. She leans on the doorframe of the bathroom and crosses her muscly arms.
"Yeah, I am excited to see 'her'." you look at Ellie through the mirror and put up quotations marks, like you're mocking her obvious bad memory with names. She rolls her eyes. "Sorry I forgot her name, jeez."
I don't care what her name is, she wants to say.
"It's Sophia, for the 100th time. We're going out to this sushi place, I heard its really good! I also heard that its really fancy, so I really have to up my game." you laugh, putting your hair up and examining your face.
Ellies face contorts at this and she can't help but let out a scoff, "I thought you hated sushi? Fish in general? What the hell are you gonna eat?" she asks you with furrowed brows.
"I mean, yeah, its not my favorite but I can try it. Maybe this time it'll be good!" you try to sound enthousiastic, but Ellie was right, you've always hated fish and everyone knew that.
"Why is she taking you there if you can't eat anything on the menu? Did she even ask you what you like? Remember when we went to Jesses place and you tried that fried fish he cooked and threw up?" Ellie starts questioning you, her tone dripping with jealousy. She looks at your face in the mirror and manages to catch your worried eyes, just for a flash.
"Ellie, its fine. She insisted we go there, so I didn't complain. I'll try some and if I don't like it, I'll just get a drink. That's all. Now, let me do my makeup in peace, dummy!" you usher her out, getting slightly annoyed because she was right, but you still wanted to make it work with this girl so you didn't say anything when she suggested you go to this restaurant.
Ellie simply can't believe you're going out with someone who doesn't even know you that well. You're pretty vocal about your likes and dislikes, so either this Sophia isn't listening to you or she doesn't care.
The fuck does she have that I don't? I would treat you better.
With an annoyance in her step Ellie, once again, lays down on her coffee colored sofa and opens up TikTok, mindlessly scrolling while waiting for you to finish getting ready. After a while of watching dog videos and replying to Joel's unreadable texts and his wrong use emojis, Ellie decides that rolling a blunt for when you leave is a great idea. She definitely need to get her mind off of things.
After what seemed like an hour, you come out of the bathroom. Your hips sway as the black bodycon dress you picked hugs you in all the right places, your hair frames your face like its a masterpiece and the makeup you did enhances your features perfectly. Your hands are behind your back as you make your way to the living room.
"Els, need your help with something." you say shyly, while turning your rear side to the girl.
She looks up from the table and her eyes land on your bare back. Your black, lacy bra sticking out from underneath the dress. Her gaze widens and her breath stops for a second. She wonders if you have matching panties on.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Can't reach the zipper. Will you zip me up?" you giggle while trying to zip up the dress, but fail miserably instead.
Ellie swallows the lump that formed in her throat and gets up from the couch. "Y-yeah, of course." She says in a hushed voice.
You relax your shoulders as her own tense up. Her long fingers move towards the zipper that sits on the small of your back. One of her hands finds its way to the black zipper, while the other rests on your upper arm. Carefully, she picks up the small bead and starts moving it up you back.
You feel Ellies breath fan against you, her body heat radiating off of her. She's so close that she could see every damn freckle and baby hair on your neck, and that's precisely where she would plant a kiss right now if she could. The dip of your shoulders and collarbones were driving her crazy. She tried to drag the drop as slow as she could, just so she could stare at your curves longer.
One of the straps of your dress slip down, and Ellie picks it up and places it back. Her fingers graze your trap and it feels like fire. She sneakily caresses the spot before returning to her task.
"There, all, uh, all done." Ellie smooths down the dress slowly, picking off any lint that stuck to the soft fabric. She rests her hands on your hips, just for a second. Just to see what it feels like. You turn around with a smile and thank her. Ellie lets go of you and scratches her ear while her eyes linger on your body.
Don't be a creep, Ellie. Don't look at her chest. Don't.
You put your stuff back into the bag your brought over and take out the black open-toed heels you bought last week. Sitting down on Ellies sofa, you strap them on and get up to see how they feel. Ellies eyes never leave you.
"So, what do ya think? I look okay?" you question Ellie, swaying over to the body length mirror that hangs in the hallway. You do a turn and send Ellie a killer smile, like you're posing for a photo. Ellie thinks she's gonna explode.
"You look fucking- great, fuck. Of course you look good." Ellie shakes her head as if you asked her the most ridiculous question to exist. She leans back on the couch and observes you as you examine your face.
She imagines that you're getting ready for a date with her. Imagines giving you a kiss on the neck and planting her hands around your waist while you giggle at her and snap a photo of you two in the mirror.
"Okay, and what do you think 'bout this perfume?" now you were getting nervous, the time to leave for the date coming closer. You march over to her, heels clicking on the wooden floor. You lean down, pushing your neck into Ellies face so she could sniff you better.
You catch Ellie by surprise as she steadies herself. Her nose and lips nervously brush over your neck, just behind your ear. She takes a long inhale and closes her eyes, you signature scent filing up her senses. Your hair tickles her face.
"Smells good. As always." Ellie states quietly, not moving from the warmth of your neck. She wishes she could stay there.
"Thanks, Williams. I have to go, I'm gonna be late. So, uh, I'll let you know how the date went! You have my location if anything happens, yeah? Lock the door behind me." you put on your coat and bag and strut to the door.
"Wait, she's not picking you up?" Ellie hurriedly follows behind you. The fuck?
"Uh, no. Something's up with her car or... I don't know. I'm just gonna walk!" you say, not looking forward to the death of your feet.
"Jesus," she mutters "do you want me to drive you? It's cool." Ellies already picking up her car keys but you stop her.
You put your hand on her bicep, giving her a reassuring squeeze "Ellie, it's fine. I don't mind walking! I love walking, in fact! Don't stay up late, okay? Bye, Els!" you retort, you don't want to be a bother. Besides, walking is healthy. At least you'll get your steps in and the restaurant is 15 minutes away.
Ellie rolls her eyes, but she can't even say a comeback since you're already clacking away. She almost forgets to lock the door.
She drags her feet back to where she was sitting and finishes rolling her joint, the TV in the background playing a random movie. Ellie lights up the spliff and leans back, putting her feet up on the living room table. Finally she can relax and turn her mind off.
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The clock showed 12 AM and Ellie was fast asleep right where she sat. The spliff she smoked turned into ash and the movie she was watching ended a long time ago. The sound of her phone ringing jolted her awake, the ring tone she put specifically for you blaring loudly.
She quickly picks up the phone "Hey? Is everything okay?" Ellie muttered, still half asleep with closed lids.
"Hey, um, Ellie? Can I come over?" you slur your words slightly. Are you drunk? You sounded rushed and winded.
"Of course, angel, where are you? Should I pick you up? Are you okay?" Ellie asks in a panic, now wide awake. She didn't even notice the way her nickname for you slipped out.
"Yeah, everything's fine, just need to, uh, see you." you sniffle "I'm gonna be up in a sec." you tell her and hang up the call.
Ellie rushes to the door to unlock it and sees your fallen face. She stands to the side and lets you in as you take off your heels and fall face first into the cream cushions.
"What happened?" Ellie asks as she sits down next to you, placing a careful hand on your back.
"Nothing, I just... It was so weird. Everything was okay at first, we were drinking and laughing, and then we went back to her place and she was acting strange and kinda like an asshole, so I left. The sushi was shit, by the way." you chuckle, wiping the one tear that slipped from your eye.
Ellie had a concerned look on her face as she opened up her arms, inviting you for a hug. "Come here." You place your head on her warm chest and close your eyes, humming contently. "I didn't know where to go and you were so close, so yeah. Sorry if I woke you up, though." you whisper into her.
"It's okay, just glad that you're okay. Wanna take a shower? You can sleep here if you want." Ellie smiles at you while wiping smudged mascara from your cheek. Your painted lips tug into a smile and Ellie wonders how that shade of pink would look on her.
"Yes, please." you mutter softly and let go of her body.
Ellie gets up and swiftly makes her way to her bedroom. She rummages through her messy closet until she finds a pair of grey boxers, some socks, a t-shirt and a towel. Jesus Christ, I need to clean more often.
"Here you go." she hands you the clean clothes.
"Thanks, Els. I don't know what I would do without you." you smile at her hazily, your eyes having this sort of gloss over them, like the one Ellie saw that night. You make your way to the bathroom and close the door. She hears the water turn on and the sound of the shower curtains rustling.
Don't imagine her naked, you idiot.
Ellie lets out a sigh she didn't know she was holding as she settles into the daybed comfortably.
You finish your shower and plop down next to Ellie. The smell of her pine-like shampoo fills her nose. The thought of you showering with her stuff and using her towel and sleeping in her clothes makes her head dizzy with the sheer domesticity she so badly yearns for.
Ellies sprawled out in a laying position, one hand under her head while the other plays around with the TV remote. You wrap your arms around Ellies tattooed one, leaning your head on her shoulder. One of your legs rests on top of hers, hiking up your her boxers in the process.
Fuck.
Ellie can't help but gaze down at your body, the way her bottoms hug your thighs and how her shirt looks so fucking good on you. To say that you look hot would be an understatement. She knew she looked stiff as fuck but she didn't dare move a muscle. Ellie feared that even a slight movement would cause you to detach from her, so she stayed still.
"You okay, El?" you ask as you notice the change in her demeaner, shifting your stare to the side of her face. Even though the only light was coming from the TV, you could still se the slight nervousness that was present on the girls face.
Ellie snaps her head towards you and clears her throat "What? Yeah, angel. I'm fine, sorry. Just watching the show." she sends a smile your way as her eyes focus on the TV, your own burning a hole in the side of Ellies neck.
She puts a daring tattooed hand atop your thigh in a reassuring matter. You hum against her and turn your attention back to the documentary that was playing.
Ellies feels her heart palpate and she wonders how far the nearest hospital is from her apartment.
You lay like that for a while, comfort and warmth surrounding your tangled bodies. You didn't move and Ellie took that as a sign that her clammy hand on your thigh didn't present itself as a problem.
Ellie thought she was dreaming.
Out of nowhere you let out a chuckle, obviously remembering something funny. "What is it?" Ellie asks you.
"Nothing I just- nothing, doesn't matter." a giggle escapes your lips as you nuzzle closer to Ellies body.
"Weirdo." Ellie jokes with a squeeze to your leg.
After a 2 minute silence, you whisper something that sends Ellie into orbit "I didn't even come..."
What the fuck?
Did she heart that right?
Ellies body hardens as she questions. "Come- come where?" the embarrassing ask leaves her mouth before she can even think about what you meant. You laugh at her confused tone.
"No, Els, I mean, like, I didn't even come when I was with her." you hide your face in your palm and whisper the 'come' part, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you even admitted something like this to your friend. Ellie understands.
Oh my god.
The brunette thinks she might just die right here. You almost never talk about sex. I mean, here and there of course, but never intimately like this. You both knew more about Dinas and Jesses sex like than yours, everything you found out against your will. Ellie didn't even know if she wanted to hear about your love endeavours, she didn't know if she could handle the sheer thought of someone else's naming dripping from your lips in that way.
But this, this intrigued her as she continued to ask.
"What do you mean?" Ellie tries not to prod to much, still acting dumb.
"I mean, we were going at it but after she was done, that was it. She left me high and dry. She didn't even give me aftercare, she just went on her phone." you laugh feeling more comfortable to tell the story "That's why I left. I felt embarrassed."
This fucking bitch. she thinks about the girl. She couldn't comprehend what you were telling her. Someone was having sex with you? And you didn't finish? That wasn't their priority?
Ellie can't help but let out a scoff as her mouth hangs open with disbelief.
I would never fucking do that.
"Do what?" you question her, giving her a puzzled look.
Shit, did she say that out loud?
"I- I mean, I would never just leave a girl hanging like that. Making a girl finish is sometimes better than sex itself, shit." Ellie lets out a mocking laugh, the weed that still buzzed in her giving her confidence. This made your stomach swirl in a way that was all to familiar, the thought of Ellie in compromising positions.
"Don't feel embarrassed, she's a fucking idiot. Doesn't deserve you." her grip on your thigh hardens and you would be lying if you said that it didn't have any effect on you. Ellie wasn't the only one still drunk on substances, the alcohol you had earlier still present in your body.
"Yeah, you're right." you mutter out, hiking your leg upwards, your knee nearing Ellies crotch. This doesn't go unnoticed by the brunette.
"Of course I fucking am." she says like its fact, her eyes darting between your knee and the TV.
The comforting silence returns and soon enough Ellie puts on a TV show you both love, but you couldn't focus on anything but her body underneath yours. Its not like you didn't think about Ellie. Of course you did. Every fucking gay girl with eyes saw how attractive Ellie was. Her eyes, her crooked smile and that fucking tattoo that adorned her forearm were enough to make a girls knees weak. Dina had subtly mentioned how Ellie was a bit of a player, so you didn't wanna indulge in her games. As you grew closer to her, you saw how sweet she actually was. Yeah, she could be an ass sometimes, but that was just Ellie. You saw right through her hard exterior and discovered her nerdy and warm side. Still, you didn't want to compromise your friendship with her or Dina, so you just moved on.
You move your head to rest in the crook of Ellies neck, feeling her pulse quicken at the action. Racy thoughts were swirling in your head and your tongue was faster than your tipsy brain.
"Now I'm all pent up." the whisper came out so hushed that even Ellie barely heard it.
The air shifts and Ellie nearly looses her mind. You could cut the tension with a knife. What the fuck were you doing? Surely this isn't something innocent. Suddenly she could feel every inch of your body on hers, a cold sweat running down her insides.
What the fuck does she do now?
Shit.
"Y-yeah?" she whispers even quieter then you, testing the waters. Fuck it, she thought. She could feel the warmth of your centre radiating on her thigh and that was enough for her. With her gaze still on the screen, Ellie moves her hand up your thigh slowly, landing near the bottom of your cotton boxers. She takes the hem between her fingers and plays with it. Maybe this seemed like a bold move, but her insides were doing fucking backflips. She patiently waited for your next move.
"Yeah, got all worked up..." you rasp out, craning your neck to the side and lightly brushing your lips on the red mark you left some days ago. You unhook your leg from Ellies waist and turn to lay on your back, still clinging to her right arm. Ellies hand slips from your ass and lands on the inner part of your leg. Nobody speaks a word.
Ellie thinks she might pass out.
Her fingers draw deliberate circles on your skin, still unsure of her movements. Slowly but surely, they dance up your leg and land again on the hem of your shorts. Ellies eyes are wide with blown out pupils, her breaths come out ragged and short. She can't keep her eyes off of you. Her digits linger for a moment or two, before her pinky grazes your sweet spot. The thing she yearns for. You let out a quick sigh of relief as you both come to an understanding of what's about to happen, but neither of you verbally confirm it. No words need to be said.
Your grip on her arm tightens, silently signaling for her to continue what she was doing. She moves her pinky up and down and if she moved just an inch, she would be right where you needed her.
Ellie decides that she would be taking her sweet ass time. She'd been waiting too long for this to be over in a matter of minutes. She finally feels like she's in control. Her bangs stick to her forehead, her brows are furrowed and they way she's biting her lip will definitely leave a mark. She couldn't see your face, but she imagines its mimicking hers.
You buck your hips up, just a tad, just to let her know its safe to go further. Ellie moves your leg with hers slowly as she opens up your thighs. She so badly wishes to see the view below, so sure that the cotton boxers were a darker shade of grey in the middle. Her throat is dry at the mere thought of your slick.
Ellie moves her hand to cup your cunt, the pads of her digits pressing against your hole lightly. She was right, you were wet.
You were wet for her.
The words keep repeating in her mind.
It takes everything in her not to flip you around and fill you up with her strap, but she can't. Not yet. Not now. Another time if her stars are lucky.
You let out a low moan that you were holding on to while digging your nails into Ellies bicep. Ellies tattooed hand moves up, her fingers tracing your bud with a light pressure, enough to elicit another groan out of you. Ellie groans quietly just at the sight of her hand on your pussy. Her pressure on your clit hardens and she moves her fingers faster. You instinctively open your legs more, giving her better access to play with you.
She halts her movements and you almost whine at the loss of her touch. She slowly lifts up the band of your boxers and slips her hand in. She doesn't know why but she's surprised at the loss of your panties underneath the shorts. Ellie remembers seeing the lace adorning your back just a couple of hours ago and wondering what you were wearing down below. Its a good surprise nonetheless.
You arch your back at the sudden contact of Ellies cold digits on your puffy clit. She circles it again before moving down to gather your slick on her fingers, returning them to your bud.
"E-Ellie..." her name falling from your lips in the most beautiful way Ellie has ever heard and she thinks she could come just from that. Your bury your face in her neck and she feels your every breath.
"Yeah, baby?" she rasps out, continuing to roll your clit around in hard but slow movements. You kiss her neck a bit harder this time, leaving wet trails all the way up to her jaw. Her smell is intoxicating to you. You need more.
"Need more, El." you mutter out shyly. It was embarrassing how quickly you soaked your panties for her. You didn't know that Ellies were even worse than yours.
She dips her head down and catches your lips with hers in a slow kiss. Ellie thinks she's on top of the world.
The touch was electric and Ellie felt as if you were the missing piece to her puzzle. You let go of her arms as you straddle her waist, tangling your hands behind her neck and in her hair. Ellie lets out a groan at the tug of her locks as her hands come up to rest on your ass. She kisses you with so much want and so much need, she doesn't even stop for a quick breath. You both slow down as her hand once again finds your wet centre and you can't help but let out a moan into Ellies mouth. She rubs you through your boxers, teasing you again.
"El, please..." you plead with her, you can't take it anymore. Your head falls into the crook of her neck as you leave another hickey next to the old one.
Ellie feels like a god when she hears her name fall from your mouth, so sickly sweet, so desperate, just for her.
"What do you want, baby? Hm? Tell me." she's not even that much of a dirty talker, but she needs to hear you say it. Needs to hear you say how badly you want her. The craving for you growing stronger.
"Anything. Do whatever you want." the words you say come out in a moan as you grind down on her rough palm.
In a swift motion she flips you over to lay on your back. Your legs wrap around her waist as she pulls up your chin for a deep kiss. Both of you are a moaning mess at this point. The pillows on her couch were thrown somewhere on the floor, the TV long forgotten. Ellie pulls her shirt above her head and you almost salivate at the sight of her abs, her Calvin Kleins peeking out from her shorts. Her messy auburn hair and bitten lips leave you wanting more. You pull her in by her sports bra to continue the kiss. Her fingers toy with the bottom of your shirt as she lifts it up above your tits, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin.
She kisses down your body, starting from your neck down to your clavicle. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this." Ellies words sound breathless as she kneads your tits in her hands, running her fingers over your hardened nipples. She kisses them slowly, making sure to leave a few of her marks.
Ellie can't wait any longer, the need to taste you overcomes her completely.
She gets on her knees in front of the couch and settles between your soft thighs, kissing and biting them delicately. Her long digits drag over your tits all the way to your knees. "Can I taste you? Please?" and Ellie didn't even have to ask by the looks of you.
Ellie wishes she could take a picture right now. Your cute face is all blushy, bitten lips waiting for a moan to slip out. Your hair spills around you like you're a work of art. God, don't even get her started on how your perfect body looks under hers.
And who are you to deny her? Her whiny tone and big eyes are enough to send you over the edge.
"Yes, Ellie. Hurry up. Please." you sound just as pathetic as her.
Ellie eyes your heat, pressing a teasing finger right on your wet clit. She bunches up the boxers and slips her hand underneath, touching you with her cold knuckles and dragging them down your slit slowly. The reaction that this elicits from you makes her roll her eyes to the back of her head. She carefully but quickly takes off the cotton material and throws it behind her.
"Jesus, you're so fucking wet." and it feels so pathetic, how wet you got just from a few touches. You don't even wanna know how fast you'll come if she keeps this up.
Ellie finally bows her head down and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you buck your hips to her mouth from the action. She shuts her eyes and groans from your taste. Tastes so fucking sweet. She thinks she could live off of you alone. She continues gathering your slick on her tongue as she circles your clit, pulling you closer by your thighs. Her moans mix with your own and you don't think you could hold on any longer.
"E-Els, oh my god. Keep, fuck, keep going!" you croak out while arching your back, pushing into Ellies tongue.
"Hold on, baby. Don't come yet. Just a little longer. Shit, you taste so fucking good." Ellie grumbles between your folds, nose bumping into your bud as she nuzzles deeper. Her chin is covered in your wetness, dripping down the couch.
Her right hand unwraps from your thigh and reaches down into her own shorts. Ellie can't help it, her own slick pooling in her underwear. The thought of her face in your cunt making her go crazy. She speeds up her tongue while she simultaneously rubs her own clit. She doesn't even bother to take off her boxers.
"Tell me when you're close, angel. Okay?" the sound of her voice sending vibrations to your body. You nod frantically, too pent up to even use your words. All you can focus on is her heaven-sent tongue that's working on you.
However, you do notice her sneaky hand in her boxers, and the sight alone makes the tight coil in your stomach snap. Ellie's lapping at you like you're her last meal in the world while her wrist is working on her own clit. The sight is pitiful one, how she's about to come just from eating a girl out. Not just any girl. Her girl.
"Ellie, I'm close, fuck, 'm gonna- gonna come!" you whine with your hands tightly tangled in Ellie's hair. "Yeah, fu- you gonna come for m-me?" and as she utters those words and as her pace is just right, both of you finish at the same time, hot flashes running through your bodies. Ellie's hand and mouth are still not letting up as she works trough your orgasms.
She slows down and takes her hand out of her shorts and lazily wraps it around your thigh. "El- stop, stop, stop, can't take, fuck- can't take anymore." you hum out, your hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. Ellie groans in reply, so pussy drunk on your taste that she just can't bring herself to let up. "Ellie! Please..." you push her head away, feeling overstimulated.
"Okay okay, sorry angel." her mouth detaches from your bud with a pop and she continues placing small licks on your hole, cleaning you up. She finishes with a few kisses placed on your clit and inner thighs.
Ellie quickly gets up with wobbly legs and goes to the bathroom to get a fresh towel to clean up the scene that just unfolded. As she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees your shinny slick dripping down her chin and she can't help but smirk at the sight.
She makes her way towards you and now she really wishes she had a fucking camera somewhere here, because even the greatest renaissance painters couldn't have painted a better portrait. You turn your head to look at Ellie with you shirt sitting under your chin, your bottom half completely naked and as the cherry on top, your perfect smile and hazy eyes looking right at her.
She blushes as she sits down next you, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Hey, brought you a clean rag." she says, suddenly feeling very shy under your piercing gaze. "Thanks, babe." you tell her before pulling her down by her bra for a sweet kiss. Ellie immediately melts into you as you taste yourself on her lips. Her heart flutters at the word babe.
"Was, uh, was that good?" her pleading eyes look into your own as she questions you quietly. "Ellie, you're joking, right?" you giggle as you run your fingers through her auburn locks. She turns away from your gaze while a deep blush creeps onto her cheeks.
"Hey," you turn her head towards yours "I don't think I ever came that fast in my life." your blown out pupils meet her own and Ellie's stomach dances at your words.
You pick up her right hand, still looking deep into her eyes. A playful and dangerous look enhancing your stare. You bring up her fingers to your lips, parting them just enough for her digits to slip in, licking them clean from the girls come. Ellie sees white for a second. She pushes them in deeper, and now she can't help but imagine some other things she would do to you.
"Round 2?"
2K notes · View notes
blkkizzat · 4 months
Note
please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg
Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡
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Lessons in Anatomy
“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
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summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.
cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k
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“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”
You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.
Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it! 
You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room. 
100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend. 
Well not forced exactly. 
You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.
“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.” 
Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.
Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends. 
However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get. 
“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”
You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.
“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”
Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top. 
You all were idiots. 
Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot. 
The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.
That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for.  Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing. 
Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’. 
Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place. 
Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.
“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”
You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.
How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?
Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year. 
It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.
Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.
Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company. 
He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.
But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife. 
Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.
It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college. 
You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.
You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.
And this was definitely not fun. 
Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls. 
You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn. 
Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should. 
Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin. 
He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.
You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.
“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”
Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt. 
Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself. 
“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”
Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).
Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.
“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”
Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.
“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”
Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups. 
You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).
Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?
“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”
Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat. 
Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve. 
“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”
Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes. 
“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”
You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.
“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”
Damn. 
You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss. 
It was mostly true to be honest. 
A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both. 
Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross! 
Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.
“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—” 
You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.
“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”
You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded. 
The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair. 
Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating! 
On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…
Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you. 
To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory!  This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!
Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?! 
“Sugu…”
“Sugu…”
“Hey, Suguru!!!”
Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun. 
You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now. 
However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.
Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.
So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.
“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…” 
Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.
Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now. 
He had grown much more into his features since high school. 
College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym. 
He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.
Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time. 
Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.
Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.
“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...” 
You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. 
Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft. 
Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.
“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.” 
You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.
“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?” 
There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone. 
Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though. 
If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.
“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”
You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.
But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience? 
Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.
You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right? 
Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were. 
“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”
Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.
“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?” 
“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you. 
Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector. 
Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru. 
You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.
“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”
Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling. 
“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?” 
You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy. 
“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”
His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.
“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”
You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip. 
Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.
Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face. 
He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows. 
You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.
“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”
Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.
“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.” 
You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable. 
You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs. 
His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.
Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this. 
If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions. 
But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.
“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”
You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him. 
Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.
“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”
Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you. 
You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you. 
But not your pussy just yet. 
His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides. 
Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.
“Sugu–”
“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”
You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment. 
You had never been touched this delicately before.
Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.
If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.
“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?
Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.
“Say it, Y/N.”
Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word. 
“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”
Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.
“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”
Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you. 
Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.
“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”
You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here. 
How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself. 
You loved it. 
Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone. 
“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”
Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin. 
Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.
“AHH!”
The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you. 
Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.
“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”
Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.
“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”
You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head. 
“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”
Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.
“Hey, Y/N–”
Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.
“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”  
You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.
“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”
Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.
“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”
The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.
“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.” 
Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.
“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”
Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.
Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.
Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.
“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”
Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.
“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”
A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening. 
Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned. 
You want him.
“Sugu–”
“–Shhh!”
Suguru cuts your pleas short.
“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”
You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole. 
Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot. 
Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–
“Found her.”
Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now. 
“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”
Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland. 
Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it. 
The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.
Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.
“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”
Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot. 
You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice. 
“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”
Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder. 
“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”
“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”
Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth. 
Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth. 
Fuck, you’re greedy as hell. 
The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers. 
Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.
Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.  
You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you. 
Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot. 
You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next. 
You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.
Suguru notices.
“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”
For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.
“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–” 
Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment. 
It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!
“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!
Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk. 
Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud. 
The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.
“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”
Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.
“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”
You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.
“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.” 
At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.
“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”
“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”
Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull. 
Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again. 
Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.
Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive. 
Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away. 
Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.
“Stawwp–”
Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.
“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”
Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough. 
The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy. 
So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole. 
Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt. 
Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.
By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin. 
Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties. 
You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present. 
Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.
The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers. 
“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”
You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru. 
Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.
“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”
Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.
“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”
“–Oh it's you Suguru!”
You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him. 
Willing yourself to sit up, your body is  immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats. 
Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. 
The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.
You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement. 
You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.
You need to feel it. Now.
Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.
“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”
A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously. 
“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”
Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience. 
You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose. 
Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.
“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”
You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.
“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”
You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.
“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!” 
Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.
“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–” 
Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.
He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.
Satoru could fuck off.
“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”
You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties. 
Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.
“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”
You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you. 
Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.
BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night. 
If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this. 
Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.
“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business. 
You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years. 
Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.
“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ.
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a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.
Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!
NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!
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romanticintheory · 1 month
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Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.
simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules
-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.
-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.
-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.
-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.
-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.
-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.
-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.
-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.
-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.
-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.
-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"
-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.
-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.
-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.
-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.
-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.
-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"
-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.
-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"
-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."
-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.
-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?
-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.
-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?
-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.
-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.
-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.
-"(y/n)," he said.
-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.
-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.
-"you alright?"
-"yes. why?"
-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."
-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.
-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"
-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.
-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."
-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."
-"no."
-"no?"
-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."
-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?
-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."
-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.
-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.
-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.
-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"
-"what?"
-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"
-"you're not fucked up."
-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."
-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.
-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."
-"you give me plenty."
-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."
-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.
-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"
-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.
-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.
-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.
-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.
-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.
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