Tumgik
#i mean of course i love him how could i not
say-al0e · 2 days
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​
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moondirti · 1 day
Text
so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op
featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!
They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.
“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia
But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.
Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.
Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”
Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–
You clear your throat.
His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.
Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.
He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.
What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?
“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.
It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”
You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”
“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.
“I’ll have that right out for you.”
And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.
Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.
“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”
Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”
“We cannae leave her here.”
Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.
He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.
“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”
It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.
What good partner would let you work this shitty job?
It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.
Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.
It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.
So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.
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babyleostuff · 2 days
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 613
. . . just cheol being cheol (aka him freaking out because of your fever)
natalia’s note: very much self indulgent, i came home with a fever all of a sudden like a week ago, and ever since im in desperate need of choi seungcheol
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“i’m not dying, you know?” 
“i know,” cheol huffed, and threw what had to be the tenth blanket over you. 
“then why are you acting like i’m about to pass away?” you laughed, seeing your boyfriend’s focused expression. according to his logic, if the blankets weren’t all sprawled out properly, you’d freeze to death, and his furrowed dark eyebrows alongside the crease between them showed how serious he was about it. 
you could hear him mutter something under his breath. he was always like that when you were sick - too worried, and too overprotective. that’s why sometimes you didn’t even bother telling him you were ill, especially with his busy schedules - you didn’t want to burden him even more (he’d probably strangle you if he heard you calling yourself a burden). 
to be honest, you didn’t even have to be sick - the second cheol would notice you acting differently than usual he’d be all over you asking what’s wrong. but while usually you were very grateful for his caring nature, now was not the time. “i’m sorry for being worried about my girlfriend coming home with a fever,” he said, looking offended. 
“cheol, baby. it’s just a fever,” you quickly grabbed the pills from his hand to get his attention back on you. “i’m sure it’s not even a proper fever, i’m just feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all. there is no need for you to be worried.” 
your “illness” was nothing that a long session of cuddles with him and kkuma couldn’t solve, but it seemed like your boyfriend didn’t share your optimism. “fine, do whatever you want,” he grumbled, his pout on full display, and left the room, leaving you too stunned to speak. 
with a loud sigh, you fell back against the stack of pillows cheol fluffed up before forcing you to lay down. of course you didn’t mean to make him think you didn't want his help, you loved how big of a caregiver he was (especially when it came to you), it’s just that unlike him - for you, being sick wasn't the end of the world, and you didn't need him to babysit you. 
not wanting to argue, you stood up from the bed with a soft groan, throwing off all the blankets cheol covered you with. you knew it wouldn't be hard to appease him, he wasn't really angry, more disappointed that you were rejecting his help.
you entered the kitchen and immediately saw him cutting up some food, probably preparing dinner. “cheollie,” you said quietly, hoping he would look at you. unfortunately, he stubbornly continued to cut the vegetables. "baby, please, i didn't mean to upset you." you walked around the kitchen island and hugged him from the side, burying your head in his neck.
you saw his pout out of the corner of your eye, so your suspicions that he wasn't actually angry were correct. “i was just worried about you," he finally said after a while, and put the knife down. "there's nothing fun about seeing your girlfriend come home all burning up with fever."
“i know love, i know,” you mumbled, and kissed his bicep, running your hand gently over his tummy. “i really appreciate everything you do, but i’d rather cuddle with you and kkuma. we could watch something, and you’d get to hold me, hm?” you smiled, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up a little. if there was one thing cheol could never decline, it’d be a cuddle session with his girls. 
“you’ll take the medicine, though,” he said sternly, kissing your hot forehead. “now get your ass back to bed, i’ll be right back” he added.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings
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irndad · 3 days
Note
Flower prompt request for Spencer Reid please!!!
Arbutus combined with Freesia.
And if you wanna add in something suggestive or downright filthy, there will be no complaints! (Or just a heartfelt fluff fest)
Thank youuuuu! (Will totally understand if you aren’t interested though!)
-🌕
hi!! this is sfw but here u go!! i hope you enjoy!! requests r open <3 flower prompts
Something’s wrong with her.
Not wrong, of course. Quite the opposite, really. She looks beautiful, a swipe of a purplish red on her pretty lips, a cowl neck dress wrapped around her form like a well-made glove. She’s a vision, and he adores looking at her- he doesn’t get the chance as often as tonight. While they get the chance to talk on the plane (when no one else is sleeping) or at the bar after cases, but this- this is an entire night she’s spent by his side. 
He normally doesn’t like when the FBI does these galas, but they’re fundraising, and now his beautiful coworker who’s a little more than that is drinking rosé out of a thin stemmed wine glass. He adores the sight of her.
“You okay?” He hears himself say, and there’s a beat of silence before she looks up from her beverage, and smiles a false grin at him.
“Right as rain, Spencer.” She grins back at him, leaning back on the table they were standing by.
“You’re acting different,” he says, “You’ve been quiet, and you seem distant from the team. You didn’t have any of the cupcakes Penelope brought in, either.”
“I didn’t want too much sugar in the morning!”
“Now, that is a lie.” He finds himself smiling at her when he says it. Things move naturally with her, have a flow of conversation that takes no effort, only gentle enjoyment. 
She really does look so pretty. This is a factual thing Spencer has noticed- a fact of her that he would be blind not to see. It’s evolutionarily advantageous to want to look at beautiful things. It doesn’t mean anything. 
She sighs fondly down into her glass, her breath causing ripples in the wine.
“Can I tell you something?” She says, and it shocks him. He feels a bit like an insider, and adores the feeling of being on the inside of a secret of hers. He’d like to be someone she tells things to. 
He nods, awaiting with baited breath.
“I went out with this guy who’s here tonight. 
Suddenly he doesn’t feel so warm. 
Except, it shouldn’t bother him- they’re not dating. She’s beautiful, all soft lines and curve, lovely blooming smiles and kind-heartedness, and he’s a pipe cleaner with eyes. It’s not a thought he’s entertained-
But still, in this moment, Spencer’s not blind to the image they’re projecting. Hanging back at a party, low lighting and hushed conversation, her in a beautiful dress and him in a rented tux- he could see how someone could mistake the two of them for- for something. 
Did he want that? 
“Spence?” She shakes him out of his thoughts, warm tone punctuated by her adorable head tipping to the side. Had she always been that adorable?
“Sorry, sorry,” he rambles, “You went out with an FBI agent?” His tone is incredulous. She jokingly slaps his arm, and he fills with affection.
“Don’t be mean! It was literally one date, it was before I knew how obnoxious Agent Bennet was. Believe me, he made me realize about ten minutes in.”
She tells him the story of their first and only date, and while he is sure it’s full of anecdotes that are effervescent and hilarious, all he can think about is date with her, date with her, date with her. 
He’d be on time, if they went out. He’d be well-dressed, put together and polite. She’s so lovely, so kind and so sweet and it’s only now he realizes that this is something he can want. 
“So you’d go out with another federal agent?” It’s clumsy and awkward of a question, but it seems the only time it would ever be appropriate to ask it. 
She shrugs, smiling at him.
“If it was the right person, sure.”
“And Bennett wasn’t?”
“No, I don’t think so. I like a different type of guy, you know. Kinda nerdy."
Even despite this, when Spencer spills his coffee on Bennett's legal pad the following week, he can't drum up even a little bit of remorse.
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lightblue07 · 2 days
Text
Insecure |OP81
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Oscar Piastri x Norris! Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Oscar knew that his girlfriend is wonderful... he didn't know that other drivers thought the same. feeling insecure should not be part of your relationship
MASTERLIST
A/n: English is not my first language!! (You can send writing ideas if you have any)
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Oscar walked through the Paddock looking for his girlfriend.  The day of practice was already over and they had agreed to go to dinner.  He carried her purse in his hands, having collected all of her belongings that she had left in the garage.
His girlfriend, always sociable and friendly with everyone, took forever to say goodbye, even if they would see each other again the next day.
He found her surrounded by some drivers. Max, Carlos and Charles were talking animatedly with her.  Oscar knew that they were as tired as he felt, but he also knew that Y/n was so mesmerizing that she would trap anyone in a conversation.
He approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt her, but knowing that they had to leave sooner rather than later if they wanted to get to the restaurant.
He stood next to her and she turned her head to smile at him with the brightest smile she had. he immediately felt y/n's hand intertwining with his.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," she nodded and then seemed to remember something. "Wait, I didn't say goodbye to Lando, I'll be right back."
She let go of his hand, gave each driver a kiss before running towards the McLaren garage, waving off some journalists she had known for years.
"At this rate we will never leave" Oscar mocked and Carlos laughed next to him.
"Well, you managed to date the most sociable girl in the world"
"I know"
"You got lucky with her" Max commented after losing sight of her and joked "if we had known that the new guy would take the big prize, we would have sabotaged your arrival."
The other two pilots laughed and Oscar did too, but without understanding what he meant.
"what do you mean?"
Charles let out a small laugh "come on, as if you didn't know we all have a little bit of a crush on y/n."
"You are?"  He frowned
Carlos cleared his throat. "I mean, maybe... a little. But, mate, we would never do anything. She loves you and we respect her. Both of us."
Oscar saw y/n in the distance walking next to Pierre and they were both laughing.
Now, what he had always believed were kind and friendly glances, he realized were more.  Much more
"See you tomorrow." He said goodbye and walked quickly towards his girlfriend. The drivers looked at each other with regret.
"We screwed up"
"Yes, I think we did," Max confirmed.
Oscar couldn't think of anything other than knowing that everyone liked his girlfriend.
Not that he could blame them, she was one of the most wonderful people he had ever met in his life, he shouldn't be surprised that many noticed it too.
He felt strange, a feeling of insecurity settled deep in his chest and mind.
He always knew that he wasn't the best candidate to be her boyfriend.  A boyfriend like the one she deserved.  It was one of the reasons he had been so reluctant to date her in the first place.
Since he knew her, knew how different they were.  Where he was calm, she was a complete hurricane; Always going from one place to another, talking to everyone. 
And then there was him, who liked the tranquility, the silence.  He had friends, of course, and he really enjoyed their company and especially of his beautiful girlfriend, but sometimes being alone was very comforting for his brain.
And yet, she persisted with him. 
He was grateful that she had done it, but the doubt was killing him.
Did she know that she had more options than him?  What could she have whoever she wanted, if she wanted it that way?
Oscar wasn't as funny as Carlos, or as handsome as Charles.  He didn't even win as many races as Max.
It didn't make sense for Y/n, being so wonderful, to date someone like him.
And that thought was killing him.
He arrived at the garage the next day, at night he had not slept as much as he would have liked.  Dinner the night before had turned out quite awkward.
Y/n had felt bad, believing that she had done something wrong to make Oscar calmer than normal.  But she knew that had done nothing more than be the way that always was. She had decided to stay in her hotel room for the day to give him some space.
"Where is my sister?"  Lando approached Oscar to greet him
"She decided to stay at the hotel for today" he answered, put down the notebook he was reading "can I ask you a question?"
"sure"
"did you know that some people here like y/n?"
Lando nodded "well, yeah."  He looked at Oscar "It's been a lifetime, she has something that attracts people... and it's not her bond with me" he saw the frown of his partner and understood "You didn't know that?"
"No, I mean, yeah," he sighed tiredly, "it doesn't matter."
"I've never seen her as in love as is with you," Lando commented, patting his on the shoulder. "Don't worry."
"I am not worried"
"Well, tell to your face then. See you later"
"bye"
Oscar pulled out his cell phone when it rang, it was y/n.  he answered on the third ring
"Hey"
"hey babe" her voice was as sweet as always "I wanted to wish you luck today in qualifying"
Oscar smiled unconsciously "thank you" he made a silence and spoke again "I think I'll be a little late today, but we can order something from the room service if you want"
"I would love to, I'm sure we can find something that fits your diet"
"Yes, surely you will order the biggest hamburger you can find"
"You know me darling" he heard the soft laughter from the other side "see you in a couple of hours"
"Yes take care"
"always, I love you" y/n waited carefully for the response.
Oscar swallowed, and whispered "I love you too"
When she hung up, she stared at the phone for a second and then put it aside, laying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling.  Oscar had been acting strange since the day before and it was making her nervous.
Did he not love her anymore?  Was he doubting her relationship?  Was he finally getting tired of her and her personality overflowing from her? 
God, he hoped not, because she would be devastated if Oscar broke up with her.
Charles, Carlos and Max watched carefully as Oscar spoke to Logan from a distance.
"He's frowning," Leclerc commented to his teammates.
"maybe he's just concentrating on what they're talking about" Carlos said
"he seems a little angry" Max continued "If y/n finds out that we made her boyfriend mad, do you think she'll be mad at us?"
The Ferrari boys spoke at the same time
"Yes"
Max nodded "let's hope she doesn't find out then, y/n being angry isn't something I like to see...or face"
Oscar was listening to Logan speak, but without really listening to him.  His mind was completely out of whack and the Williams driver noticed it, in addition to his bad mood.
"Are you okay, mate?"
"yes, I'm sorry"
"don't worry, I understand. y/n didn't come today."
"why do you assume it's because of y/n?"
"Well, she keeps things pretty fun around here. I guess we all noticed when she didn't come to the Paddock."
Oscar let out a humorless laugh "I guess so, apparently everyone does" and added nonsensically, standing up a little straighter "She's my girlfriend."
Logan frowned in confusion and laughed a little without understanding "I know, everyone knows."
"right" he nodded without changing his posture, gathering his things "I have to go, my girlfriend is waiting for me. See you tomorrow"
"Sure. Tell her I hope to see her tomorrow, see you"
On the way back to the hotel, his bad mood settled on the road. When he got to his room he sighed before opening the door.
The room was empty.  He left the things on the desk
"love, is you?" he hear her voice from the bathroom.
"Yes," he answered, approaching the door, "can I come in?"
"of course"
Oscar opened the door to find her in the bathtub, surrounded by foam, her hair tied up, and she looked at him with a smile.
"How did it go?"
"P5, better than previous practices" he leaned against the door frame "how was your day?"
"Quiet, I went to the hotel gym and then to the spa. It was relaxing"
"I'm glad your day was good" he tried to smile "I'll go see what's on the hotel menu."
He was about to turn around to pick up the phone when she stopped him.
"Wait, you're not going to kiss me?"
"Yes, I'm sorry" Oscar cursed himself internally as he approached her and placed a soft kiss on her lips and got up from her before she could deepen the kiss "I'll order you a hamburger and fries."
Y/n frowned as she watched him leave her. she stood up from the bathtub and grabbed a towel to wrap it around her.
She found him talking on the phone and ordering food.  She waited for him to finish speaking so as not to interrupt him.
"You're going to catch a cold if you don't change quickly," he told her when he found her standing in the bathroom door.
"Are you going to break up with me?"
"What?"
"Are you going to break up with me?"  She repeated it slowly, separating the words
"No, why would I?"
"Since yesterday you've been acting strange, at dinner you barely spoke, then you don't want to kiss me and you talk as if you don't want to talk to me. If you need a little space..."
"Hey, hey, stop. I don't need space, I'm sorry for acting like that. I think I'm just tired from practice."
"and now you're lying to me" y/n shook her head and grabbed some clothes to go back to the bathroom to change.
When she came out, Oscar was sitting on the bed, with his hands on his face, looking stressed.  She tried not to pity him, after all he was the one who was lying and acting strange with her.
She was thinking about taking her things and going to Lando. Y/n knew her brother wouldn't mind sharing her room with her.
"Did you know you could date anyone you wanted?"  her boyfriend's voice sounded
"what?"
"literally anyone, you could be with someone who is more fun, sociable, handsome..."
"Wow, I need you to stop there and explain to me what all this is about."
Oscar removed his hands from her face and looked at her almost sadly.
"You could date anyone else, but you're with me. Why me? I need you to explain it to me, honey, because the doubt is killing me."
y/n walked up to him and sat next to him
"What do you mean by why? It's you. Everything about you fascinates me. From the first time I saw you, I knew I had to be with you. I can't imagine loving anyone else. You, with that calmness that counteracts my hyperactivity. You with all the things you do for me. You, who have done nothing but make me feel so loved."
Oscar looked at her with unshed tears "but I..."
She cut him off "there are no buts with you. I love you and I don't want to love anyone else. Because no one is more fun, handsome than you. And you are sociable in your own way, you always let me drag you to all the events I can. I think you don't realize how terrified I am that you'll realize you can do it better than me."
Oscar wiped away his tears "I feel stupid now" y/n stayed silent, waiting for her next action.  Her boyfriend opened the hugs "can I have a hug?"
"All that you want"
They stayed there, hugging the edge of the bed for a few minutes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I would never break up with you."
"It's good to know" she separated from him and they knocked on the door to deliver the food.
Minutes later, when they were both already eating on the bed.
"Hey," she called after swallowing a big bite.
"What?"
"When you said I could have any man I wanted"
"yes..." he replied cautiously
"Do you think Henry Cavill would be with me?" she asked mockingly
Oscar took a piece of bread and threw it at her, causing her to laugh "shut up."
302 notes · View notes
Note
do you write for jjk men? if yes, can i please request some suguru geto hurt/comfort? any plot, i just need my heart broken and mended back together
thank you! 🌸
i do! i hope you like this and i hope you're okay ❤️‍🩹
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your best.
summary: suguru says some hurtful things after a failed mission. genre: angst to fluff pairing: suguru geto x female reader warnings: cursing
Masterlist
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gojo told you that suguru had gotten hurt during their mission. as one of their healers and as suguru's girlfriend, of course you worry when you can't find suguru in your office, ready to receive some of your lecture because he's not careful enough and some love because you're glad he's okay.
"suguru," you knock and open his door slowly.
his room is dark, only his bedside lamp is on while he's sitting on the floor, head resting on the bed. you can tell he's been hurt; the blood on his shirt, the cut on his cheek, bruises about to form...
you quietly sit next to him, inching closer to use your technique to heal his wounds. he slowly sighs, opening his eyes and holding your hand to stop you.
"i failed."
"sugu-"
"he got away, i couldn't stop him." he continues, "i should've been faster, should've- fuck."
you place your other hand on his wounded arm and begin your technique. "you did everything you could."
"you don't understand..."
"...but i know you gave it your best shot. you always do."
"what do you know? you can't even fight." that one comment hurts because it's true, but hurts regardless. suguru knows he probably hurt your feelings, but he's too angry to say anything else. what if he says something worse?
with a quiet sigh, you finish patching him up and leave a kiss on his forehead. "goodnight."
and it burns on his skin.
"you can't even fight"
it's true, you can't -- not well, at least. you're a healer, so your studies in Jujutsu High are focused on medicine alongside shoko. now that you think about it, compared to everyone else, you're probably the weakest.
shoko's also a healer, but you're not at her level. yes, there are some things you specialize in that shoko can't do, but shoko has more of those - she can do more than you, she's better than you, she's-
"hey."
your head snaps up to see suguru standing in front of your door as you open it. you take the yakult he offers and stab the straw in.
"about last night.. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it."
suguru's worried when you don't say anything, not even taking a sip of your drink. he knows it's a sensitive topic, so his comment last night was truly a low-blow.
"'s okay." you shrug, but the sadness in your eyes tells him otherwise. "how are your wounds?"
"all healed, thanks to you." he tries to smile, but ends up being awkward because you only hum in response. "can i come in?"
you step aside so he can come inside, and you sit on the bed, suguru following you shortly. you've fought before, but not like this. this doesn't even seem like a fight. suguru's wary of his actions and words while it feels like you're constantly dozing off. it's too quiet.
"talk to me." suguru says, "please."
you sigh, "it's fine, suguru, really-"
"no, it's not." he insists, "what i said was wrong-"
"is it, though?" you frown, looking at your hands. "you're right, i can't fight. i can't even throw a punch."
"and that's fine, you're a healer-"
"..not a good one." you mutter under your breath, but suguru catches it.
suguru makes you look at him, hands on both sides of your face. "hey. no one else can heal me like you do. you think shoko can heal my wounds and leave butterflies? no, only you can do that."
you punch him playfully. "...she better not."
"see? you're throwing punches already." suguru jokes, a warm smile on his face. "hey," he traces his thumb over your cheek, "we always give our best, right?"
you give him a small smile. "right."
"good." he says, smushing your cheeks together and kissing you. "now let's skip class and cuddle, i need more of your healing."
"mmp-" you muffle out when suguru suddenly pulls you into his arms to lay on the bed. "i thought you're all healed?"
"yes but you didn't stay with me last night- entirely my fault, but i still missed you." he says. "plus you haven't lectured me yet."
chuckling, you pull him closer to you, inhaling his scent. "idiot."
"i'm glad you're okay."
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yndrgrl · 17 hours
Text
you + katsuki bakugo's relationship dynamic <3
fluff. cute lil drabble. established relationship. ooc! bakugo. any au you want ig haha. gn! reader.
warnings: innuendos but nothing crazy
a/n: another drabble before i drop a long, hardcore mafia boss! dabi x spy! reader smut 👀
-
before bakugo found you, his friends pictured him dating someone dainty, soft-spoken, & just all around quiet. however, when you came into the picture, your dynamic just made so much sense.
the two of you clicked & meshed so well together. you were outgoing, kind yet snappy, & you were just glowing whenever you were with katsuki.
your friends were worried when you first got with katsuki, knowing you. you were the type to take no bullshit from anyone, not afraid of conflict, & you were just so headstrong.
what shocked everyone the most is how katsuki change when with you. we all know katsuki; if you look at the guy wrong, he'd punch the look off your face before you could even blink. he was always yelling profanity at someone with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. the nicknames he gave people were less than savory.
but with you? you could say whatever you wanted, you could act like a princess brat & he would just dote on you. it was your way, or the highway. katsuki would go to the ends of the universe for you-- even if you just wanted a cup of tea. no mean names for you (unless under the shirts), you were his darling, his love. how could he not worship you? you're just so perfect.
he's just so happy to be in your presence, it was as clear as day. he would never say it out loud (unless you batted your pretty eyes at him, of course), but he just relished in your beauty.
loving katsuki is the easiest you've ever gotten the pleasure to experience. people say that he would start fights then never back down. it was quite the opposite, though. he would tease you because you were just so cute all huffy & puffy, but once you started to get actually upset, he would immediately deescalate the situation. profuse apologizes would flow out of his mouth, butterfly kisses up your arm, & if you were truly mad, he would look so hurt.
your fights were rare & far in between. honestly, there wasn't much to fight about because he would avoid them like the plague. you didn't like when he did something? he literally unlearns it on the spot. you didn't like he wasn't doing something? he would immediately jump into action, mentally burning it into his brain.
he didn't want to lose you. you were an angel amongst a dirty sea of sinners, & he was your ever-so-willing worshipper.
he loves that he gets the privilege of seeing your sweet side. you give the world your rough exterior with glimpses into your true self. however, when with him, you can let go of the facade. there was a never ending flow of compliments coming out of his mouth.
"darlin', you're just too sweet for me." "god, i can't believe i'm the lucky one who gets to praise you." "(y/n), you're just so mmm."
life with him got comfortable, never boring. you had your routines. on monday, you'd call at 9 p.m. until midnight. on fridays, you'd get off of work at 6 p.m., & he'd already be outside of your house, waiting to pick you up for a date.
"oh, how i adore you, (y/n)."
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carmyboobear · 1 day
Note
Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol
AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!
word count: 1.3k
tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie
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Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 
here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.
“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 
“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 
“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”
“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.
“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.
“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“
“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”
“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“
“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”
“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.
“Don’t say that. Please.” 
“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”
“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”
“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“
“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 
“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”
“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”
“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”
“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 
“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”
“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”
Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”
Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 
That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.
“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”
“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 
“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”
“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 
“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 
“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”
“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”
“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”
He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.
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suguru-getos · 1 day
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Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏
Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻���♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))
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Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.
You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.
Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!
You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”
It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.
Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.
He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?
“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.
“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.
A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.
“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”
You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.
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konigslittleliebling · 17 hours
Note
Do you write for Ghost? If so, I just had a thot,, boss!simon and worker!reader? Simon is a really stern and cut-throat leader at a company you’re working for. He definitely doesn’t favor you, and will purposely make your life harder, won’t let you get leave or bonuses/benefits unless you give him a nice blowjob under his desk during a meeting… maybe slut shaming and dress coding you all the damn time,, or maybe he strip searches you, accusing you of stealing from other employees… poor innocent you, you just wanna make your boss happy :(
ugh, he’s so mean :((
boss!simon who keeps you under a strict dress code; forcing you to wear curve-hugging pencil skirts above the knee — leaving little to the imagination. you mustn’t dare wear knickers, not unless you’re on your period, but that won’t stop him. even then, you must wear a skimpy thong. and no point carrying sanitary supplies!! he’ll clean you right up, just hike up that mid-thigh skirt that insinuates your arse and bend yourself over the desk you often find yourself knelt beneath; your boss will take care of the rest.
boss!simon who doesn’t grant you vacation or sick days. he’ll have you in his chair, legs propped up on his desk in front of you where of course your naked pussy is slick and visible past the short, tight enclosure of your skirt (which he makes you wash on a hot cycle so it’ll shrink every time). he’ll discipline you for trying to avoid him and give you extra hours, disciplining that poor little cunt during overtime when everyone else has left, ruining your poor little hole all over every available desk. and of course you’re cleaning up the mess afterwards, gotta earn a star on that empty chart of yours somehow.
boss!simon who will give everyone else the day off just so he can watch you strut around the workplace on your own, arse and hips punctured by his custom uniform specific to you.
boss!simon who makes you take your breaks in his office, telling you prior what to pack for your lunch. he’ll tell you to pack foods that you’ll have to slurp or suck so he can hear the pretty noises your mouth makes, and the shapes your lips suction into. he loves to watch you eat lollipops and ice cream, especially when the calories go straight to your hips — filling out that skirt perfectly.
boss!simon who always supplies you with pens, telling you to chew them so he can watch from his office as your tongue fiddles with and teases it, ink sometimes staining your lips if you chew too hard :((
boss!simon who pays you less than everyone else so he can fuck what the rest is worth into you, hammering into your plump arse whilst you moan atop his desk because, he’ll make you feel better than any amount of money ever could.
boss!simon who assigns you especially difficult tasks so he can watch you struggle and toil over it, loving how stressed and worked-up it makes you, just because he can >:(
boss!simon who loves to remind you who’s in charge when he instructs you to take his cock down your throat or in your fucked-out cunny. and because he’s your superior, he can absolutely make you do it infront of your colleagues !! after all, you’ve probably done something to deserve such a humiliating punishment.
boss!simon who’ll tell you to wear fishnet stockings and a garter to work one day, only to make you remove them in front of other workers and slut shames you for wearing such appealing and suggestive clothing to the workplace :((
boss!simon who’ll put items from his office into your bag when you went to the restroom, only to make you empty it for him once you returned. you have no idea how his stuff got in there!! but you can’t argue with your boss when being accused of theft, you’ll just have to take his punishment like a good girl :(( he’ll make you undress to make sure you haven’t stuffed any more down your lacy bra, or even inserted anything anywhere else . . .
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wholoveseggs · 1 day
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Hey, I was wondering if you could write like a fic about the reader having never had an orgasm before, and she has like a really intense one and likes lots of praise kink. Please🥺
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Hold
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You are having drinks with Elijah and you want to tell him about your little problem, in hopes that he will help you with it.
♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) anons! I love his hands and I thought these requests would be perfect together ♡♡
4.9k words - Warnings: smut, hand!kink, slight daddy!kink, finger sucking, squirting, lots of praise, Elijah being sweet...
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You sat in Elijah's lounge room, surrounded by plush chairs and soft carpet, watching him pour out a couple of glasses of whiskey. You watched the way his hands worked, the way they flexed as he gripped the bottle, pouring the golden liquid into the two crystal tumblers.
Elijah had invited you over for drinks, it was technically your third date, although he probably wouldn't consider it a date, it was more of a casual hang out, but you liked to count every time you saw him.
He was so very charming, he made you blush when you least expected it. He would whisper in your ear, and compliment you, but what really turned you on was the way his hands would touch you. It was always light and subtle, just a graze of his fingertips against your thigh, or the small of your back. Your favorite thing was when he would cup your face when he kissed you. His palms were so big and warm, and his fingers would graze the hairline behind your ears.
Something about him made you feel safe, he was the kind of man who took care of things. You wondered if he could be the one who could satisfy you, to give you what you always wanted.
Elijah walked towards you with the drinks in hand, handing you the crystal tumbler filled with whiskey. The contents sparkling in the dim light, the fireplace roaring nearby.
"Thank you," you smiled, taking the drink and bringing it to your lips, letting the alcohol calm your nerves.
He unbuttoned his jacket and sat next to you, causally crossing his legs and turning to face you, his arm draped across the back of the couch.
Your cheeks were flushed as you sipped at the amber liquid. You were so nervous, you had decided to come clean and tell him what was on your mind, and you had no idea how he would react.
"I have a confession," you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. "But I'm afraid that it might change things between us, and I really like you, I don't want anything to ruin this."
Elijah's hand went to your thigh, gently massaging your skin, sending heat straight to your core.
"I can promise you that there is nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you," he reassured.
Your heart raced, your chest felt tight. You had to tell him, or else it would eat away at you until there was nothing left.
"I've never... I've never had an orgasm before." Your cheeks burned and your heart pounded in your chest, you hated being embarrassed, especially around people you liked.
"Never?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted.
"No, I've tried on my own and with other people, and I've just... never had one." You couldn't even look him in the eye.
"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest.
He kissed the side of your head, and his hands moved to your hips. You were glad he couldn't see your face, your breath hitching when you felt him nuzzle against your neck.
"Why would you think this would change anything? I would never think less of you because of something like this."
You felt relief wash over you, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. He was a sweet man, of course he wouldn't shame you. You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he gave you a gentle smile and squeezed your arm.
"What if it means something is wrong with me?" You said softly, still feeling insecure, worrying that maybe you would never find a man who would be able to please you.
Elijah ran his hands down your arms, and intertwined his fingers with yours.
"Maybe you just haven't figured out what you like," he suggested, kissing the side of your head.
You blushed again, his words sparking a few dirty ideas, some you were embarrassed to admit, but perhaps a little discomfort is what you needed.
"Well, there is something I know I like," you bit your lip. “But I haven't tried…”
"And what's that?" Elijah pressed.
"Your hands," you breathed, looking at them, intertwined with your own, thinking about what they could do.
"My hands?" He smirked.
"Mhm," you nodded, bringing his hands to your lips and placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.
"What do you like about my hands?" He asked, his breath warm against your ear, a smirk still evident in his voice.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if it would ever slow down. He was so hot, it was overwhelming, he was a man who was hard to resist. He was teasing you, waiting for an answer, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You felt very shy, you had never asked for sex from anyone, and the last person you'd slept with was terrible in bed. He never once satisfied you, he probably didn't even know how. Now here you were, cuddled up to a man with literal centuries of experience. The hands you were holding had done unimaginable things, his lips had tasted women from all over the world, and you were sure his cock had brought more than a few to their knees.
"I like the way they feel against my skin," you admitted, his hand was resting on your hip, and you reached for it, bringing it to the front of your shirt, and pressing it against your stomach, sliding it up to your chest. "They're so warm and strong, they make me feel safe,"
Elijah hummed, his hand kneading your breast through the fabric, and his lips pressing to the back of your neck.
"What would you like me to do with them?" He teased, his fingers flicking over your nipple, causing a wave of heat to flood between your legs.
"I want them all over me," you breathed, your hips slowly moving against him.
"You will have to be more specific than that, sweetheart," he purred.
His lips were soft, the hand that was on your breast had now slid up your chest, wrapping around your throat, pulling you closer, his lips on your ear. You closed your eyes, picturing his hands running down your body, gripping your thighs, spreading them apart, his long fingers dipping inside of you.
"Between my legs," you gasped, his hand on your throat made your mind race.
He pulled you up and on to his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He brushed your hair to the side and he began to kiss your neck. His stubble tickled, and you giggled softly, squirming in his arms.
"You're so sweet," he said against your skin.
He continued to kiss your neck, and his hands roamed your body, gently caressing your sides, your stomach, your arms. It was nice, you felt so cared for, but you wanted more, his kisses and gentle touches were turning you on, and your pussy was aching, begging for attention.
You turned your head and pressed your lips to his, his mouth opening, his tongue sliding against yours. You moaned, grinding down on his lap, feeling his hardness under you.
He smiled against your lips and his hands went to your thighs, lifting them up and draping them on the outside of his legs. He spread his knees, and your legs fell open, the cold air hitting your damp panties and making you blush.
One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him, while the other rested on your inner thigh. He slowly moved his hand up, his fingers trailing higher, his fingertips brushing against the wet fabric between your legs.
"Show me how you touch yourself, guide my hand," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.
You let out a soft moan, reaching between your legs and taking his wrist. You pressed his palm against the outside of your panties, grinding your hips into his hand, desperate for contact. You moaned, his hands were so big, so warm, and so much better than your own.
He hummed, and you could feel him smirking, and you could hear the pleasure in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your entire body.
"Good girl," he praised, his hand moving over your panties, gently rubbing, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves hidden beneath the fabric.
You whimpered, throwing your head back, grinding harder against his palm. Your hand left his, and went to his forearms, your nails digging into his suit sleeves.
"You are so sensitive," he said against your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse. "Can I take these off?" He asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear.
"Yes," you moaned, lifting your hips.
He slid your panties down, leaving them halfway down your thighs.
"Put my hand back, sweetheart," he demanded, his fingers dancing on the bare skin of your leg.
You placed his hand back where it was, grinding harder against his palm, moaning softly as he rubbed slow circles against your clit.
"Mmm, look at you," he cooed, his eyes fixed on your face, your eyes closed, lips parted, hips rocking, desperately grinding against his hand. "All you needed was the right touch."
You whined, the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. You felt the muscles in your thighs tighten, and heat pool between your legs. You were so close, his hands were so much better than yours.
"Give me your hand, sweetheart," he said, removing his hand from between your legs.
"No, don't stop," you whined, grabbing his wrist, trying to put his hand back, but he refused, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.
"Let me show you something," he said, guiding your hand back between your legs, your fingers touching your clit.
You gasped, a shockwave of pleasure rushing through you.
"There you go, rub in small circles," he instructed, his lips on your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin.
Your hips bucked, and you moaned, your head spinning. His hand guided yours, guiding you to rub small, slow circles. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said, his lips pressed against your jaw. "Just like that, sweetheart, you're doing so good."
Your breathing hitched, the pressure in the pit of your stomach tightening, his hand squeezing yours, his palm on top of yours, showing you the pace and rhythm.
Your head fell back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping tighter around you, his hand going up your shirt and caressing your bare skin.
"You're such a good girl," he praised, kissing your neck. "Keep showing me."
His words sent heat straight to your core and your hand stopped moving, too distracted by the feeling of his lips. The way his other hand was running up and down your torso, his fingertips gently caressing your breast.
You felt yourself melting, you loved the way he was touching you and his lips were driving you crazy. 
"It's okay, I’ll take it from here," He purred, his lips grazing your neck, his hand resuming his movements on your clit.
"What do you think about when you do this alone?" He whispered, his free hand squeezing your waist.
"I think about you touching me," you panted, his lips and his hands were too much, it was all you could focus on.
"Is that all you think about?" He asked, his hand on your clit rubbing a little faster, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
"Your fingers... in me," you gasped, his fingers felt so good against you, he knew exactly where to touch, and he did it with such care and precision, you could hardly stand it.
"Like this?" He asked, his fingers tracing along your slit, gently pressing a single finger inside.
You looked down, watching him sink his finger into your slick heat, moaning as he began to pump in and out, his palm rubbing against your clit.
He widened his legs, spreading yours wider with them, and his pace quickened, pumping a little harder, a little faster, his other hand cupping your breast, his fingers circling and pinching your nipple.
"Why haven't you cum before beautiful? You are so responsive, so sweet," he praised, his teeth nibbling at your ear, sending a thrill through your body, straight to your core.
"I-I don't know," you panted, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short bursts. "I just overthink and I can't focus and-"
He chuckled and his finger curled, stroking that sensitive spot inside, causing your words to catch in your throat, your head falling back and your eyes rolling.
"You're not thinking now, are you?" He asked, his free hand sliding up and wrapping around your throat, applying a light pressure.
His words made you moan, he was right, you weren't thinking, he was fucking the thoughts right out of you.
"Look at you, so perfect," he purred, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "I love having you in my lap, you make such pretty sounds," he praised.
His pace quickened, his hand between your legs moving faster, his palm rubbing hard against your clit, his teeth on your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
You writhed and moaned, unable to hold yourself up, his arms were holding you steady, the muscles in your thighs tensed, your toes curling.
You felt something building inside of you, something warm, and intense. It was happening so fast, you couldn't believe it. Was this the thing everyone was talking about? It was overwhelming, your skin was tingling and every muscle in your body tightened, heat spreading through you, your heart pounding, and the pressure was getting tighter and tighter.
"It's okay, just let it happen, relax," he kissed your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin. His knees spread wider, holding your legs open, his hand wrapping around your throat.
You felt it getting stronger, the tension deep within your core. You felt like your body was being possessed by an unknown force, the power of it was indescribable. Elijah held you still, keeping you from writhing in his arms, his finger moving faster.
"Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, please, oh god," you begged, the warmth building inside of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably, every muscle in your body was tensed, your toes curling, your head thrown back, mouth agape.
"That's it, you are doing so good," Elijah whispered.
Your back arched and your hips lifted off of his lap, your thighs clenched together, his hand still working between them. You couldn't speak, couldn't form the words, couldn't make a sound, the feeling inside of you was so powerful. Your legs trembled and a wave of pleasure crashed through your body, starting at your core, and spreading outward, every inch of you tingling. Your vision blurred and your mind was cloudy, and a long, guttural moan fell from your lips.
"Just like that," he purred, his fingers slowing, rubbing slow circles against your clit, easing you down.
You collapsed back onto him, panting, unable to catch your breath, his hands still working between your legs, making the sensation last longer. Your muscles twitched and spasmed, and it felt like a thousand sparks were running under your skin.
Elijah gently rubbed his hand on your thigh, his lips kissing the side of your head, and the other slowly slid out from between your legs, and wrapped around your waist.
"Are you alright?" He asked, a sweet concern in his voice.
You tried to nod, but couldn't, you couldn't move, you were a trembling, quivering mess. You could feel his erection pressed against your back, and you wanted to please him, to return the favor, but you couldn't even sit up straight.
Elijah hummed softly, his hands moving to your stomach, and he wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your head.
He helped you off his lap and set you down on the sofa, kneeling before you, his hands lifting your thighs and pressing them to your chest, practically folding you in half. He was eye level with your pussy, and you blushed, suddenly feeling very exposed.
You could see how wet and swollen you were, your arousal sticking to your skin, glistening in the dim light. His warm breath was fanning against you and it caused a fresh wave of heat in your core.
"So pink and pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your mound, placing a soft kiss just above your clit. "So sensitive," he purred, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue swirling.
You moaned, squirming, but he held your thighs firmly, his grip strong, his hands so warm. His eyes met yours as he licked a slow stripe along your slit, the flat of his tongue teasing your clit. You were still very sensitive, and it was overwhelming, your hands went to his head and tried to push him away, but he didn't budge.
He chuckled, his hands coming up and grabbing yours, and he pinned them to your sides. He held you down and he buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling and lapping at your clit.
You watched the way he devoured you, the sounds coming from his mouth were so filthy. He was humming and groaning, his dark eyes locked with yours. You couldn't look away, it was hypnotizing, the way his tongue moved, the way his lips sucked at your clit.
Elijah released one of your hands and slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping slowly, curling them, humming at the way you squeezed them.
"Elijah," you breathed, your voice raspy, your hand clutching at his hair.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He purred, his thumb finding your clit, and rubbing in slow circles.
You moaned, and you struggled against his grasp, desperate for friction, but he had you pinned.
"You're teasing," you whined.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his tongue darting out and flicking your clit, causing your body to jolt.
"No!" You cried, the pleasure was building, and your hips were trying to roll, but he was holding them down, his fingers moving faster.
He smirked, his mouth closing over your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers pumping faster. His hair was a mess and his lips were shining, coated with your juices. His fingers were thrusting deeper, and his thumb pressed against your asshole, not quite slipping in, but enough pressure to make you squirm.
"Eli, Eli, Eli," you chanted his name, unable to form full sentences, and he seemed to like it, his eyes closed, savoring the sound.
The familiar warmth returned, and the tension was building, the muscles in your stomach tightening, and your legs trembling. Elijah could feel you tighten around his fingers, and his eyes opened, watching you, his mouth never leaving your clit.
He sucked a little harder, his tongue swirling, and you could feel yourself getting close. Your nails were digging into his scalp, your other hand was gripping his arm, and you could barely move.
A long, drawn out moan came from the back of your throat, and you felt it, the wave, the warmth, the intense pressure, building, building, building.
"I'm-I'm-" you tried to speak, but your words caught, and then, just like before, the wave crashed.
Your back arched and your pussy throbbed around his fingers, a gush of wetness flowing out, soaking his face and hand.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned, your hands going to his head, your fingers twisting in his hair.
You could feel him smiling against your pussy, his fingers still moving, the sound was wetter, and sloppier, his face covered in your cum.
His lips sucked at your clit, his tongue swirling, the stimulation too much. Your thighs closed around his head and your legs locked him in place.
"Eli, don't, it's too much, it's too much," you pleaded, and his hands went to your thighs, pushing them open, gently kissing your clit before moving back.
You could hear his fingers squelching inside of you, and a soft blush dusted your cheeks, your hand went to his, and you held it still.
He smirked, moved up and captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of yourself making you moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, his mouth hungry against yours. His erection pressed into your thigh, the feeling making you desperate for more.
You pulled back, his eyes were wild and dark, filled with lust, and his lips were swollen and slick. You reached down and undid his belt, slowly pulling it off, keeping your eyes locked with his.
You unzipped his pants and reached into his boxers and took his length in your hand, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, his eyes closing as you stroked him.
The feeling of him was nice, it was warm, and his skin was soft. You liked the way he responded to you, the way he bit his lip, and the way his eyes fluttered.
He took his cock from your hand and rubbed the tip along your slit, up and down, coating himself with your arousal.
He was big and you wondered if he could make you cum with his cock alone. The way he had you angled, you could see everything, and his dick was sliding up and down, teasing you, hitting your clit with every stroke.
Your hands went to his shirt, and you started unbuttoning, the fabric sliding off, exposing his toned torso, his skin so warm and smooth, and his arms looked so good. You could stare at his forearms all day, you wanted him to pin you down, hold you still while he fucked you.
His lips claimed yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands pushing your legs further into the couch. Slowly sinking his cock inside of you, bottoming out.
You whimpered against his lips, his dick felt amazing, you were so full, his pubic bone pressed against you.
"Look at that," he cooed, taking a quick glance down, then meeting your eyes, "we fit together perfectly."
You loved the way he overwhelmed you, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he spoke, so low and gentle.
He slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip inside, and then thrusting forward, his pelvis grinding against yours. He kept a steady pace, his strokes slow, deep and hard.
You moaned into his mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you could touch.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his words spoken against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.
"Mhm," you hummed, your eyes shut tight, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you, his length reaching places that had never been touched before.
His finger gently traced over your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, sucking his finger inside, swirling your tongue around it, biting the pad gently.
"Such a good girl," he purred, his eyes darkening.
You moaned around his finger, his pace quickening, his cock hitting a new spot, and it sent a rush through your core.
He removed his finger and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips, slipping into your mouth, his hand holding the back of your neck.
"Daddy," the word slipped from your mouth and you froze. You didn't mean to say it, you were just so distracted, and in the moment, it slipped out.
Elijah chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, "Really?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.
Your heart was pounding, you didn't mean to say that, why did you say that? You opened your mouth to apologize, but he silenced you with a kiss
The kisses were deep, passionate, and it made you weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, his pace and rhythm was perfect, and he was driving you crazy.
The sounds of him thrusting into you, the smell of sex, his mouth on yours, the way he was touching you, it was so intoxicating, you never wanted him to stop.
He groaned, his pace quickening, and his cock hit that sweet spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, and you moaned, the feeling so intense.
"That's it," he purred, his hands moving to the underside of your thighs, holding you open, his pace fast and hard, his pelvis slapping against yours.
"Oh, god, yes, daddy, fuck," you whined, unable to control the words coming from your mouth.
"Yes, sweetheart, cum for me," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
You were so close, the warmth was returning, the now familiar heat pooling in your belly, and the tension building. Your hands gripped his biceps, the muscles flexing under your fingertips, his pace quickening.
"So sweet, so innocent, never cumming on a cock. What a shame," he mumbled, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue licking and soothing. "All those boys, touching themselves, wishing they were the ones to make you cum, but you chose me," his voice was low, his words making you flush, the way he was praising you was intoxicating.
"Only you," you gasped, the feeling in your core getting stronger, the waves of pleasure becoming more frequent.
He smiled, his hands moving to the back of your knees, pushing them towards you, your thighs pressed against the sides of your chest. He was folding you in half, his hips snapping forward, his cock hitting a new spot. "That's right, baby," he cooed. "No one else," his thrusts were faster and harder, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room.
Your hands moved to the back of the sofa, trying to hold yourself steady, your back arching, the pleasure almost unbearable. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, Eli-" you cried, the wave of warmth, the tension in your belly, the sparks under your skin, all coming to a peak.
The feeling exploded within you, your muscles spasming, Your back arched as the waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through every cell of your body. You couldn't speak, couldn't moan, your mouth open in a silent cry, the euphoria indescribable.
Your head fell back and your legs trembled, and you felt a rush of warmth coat his cock, squeezing him so hard he was pushed out, but he quickly slid back in, the sensation making you squeal.
"That's it, cum on my cock, good girl," he said, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts deep and hard.
You could see it in his face, the way his eyebrows drew together, his jaw slack, the veins in his neck were prominent, his hair disheveled. He was close, and it was turning you on, the sight of him losing control, knowing that you were the cause of it, was exhilarating.
His thrusts became faster and sloppy, his grip on your hips tightening, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands went to his hair, tugging at the strands, pulling him closer.
He moaned, his hips bucking, his cock pulsing inside of you. You could feel it, the rush of warmth, his cock twitching, the sound of him panting in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck.
You were both covered in sweat, his breathing heavy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, holding him against you.
His head rose, and his eyes met yours, and he gave you a sleepy smile, his lips capturing yours in a lazy kiss. You hummed, your hand gripping his chest, sliding up to hold on to his shoulders.
Elijah groaned, his hands moving to your thighs, pulling them down, and wrapping your legs around his waist. Picking you up, and carrying you to his bathroom.
Soon, you were pressed against the cool tile of the shower, his strong hands massaging the soap into your skin, the water trickling down his muscular back. His fingers trailed over your hips, tracing the curves of your waist.
"So.. daddy?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.
"I'm so sorry," you apologized, blushing, covering your face with your hands.
He removed your hands and gave you a sly grin.
"I think I like it," he whispered, his voice low and husky, scooping you up and pinning you against the wall, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss.
The water was still running, but it wasn't important, because the only thing on your mind was him. His hands, his lips, his body, his voice, the way he held you, the way he loved you, the way he made you cum.
After, the two of you were lying on his bed, naked and spent, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing over your forehead.
"You know you aren't leaving my bed for a few days, right?" He asked, his voice deep and sleepy.
"Is that so?" You teased, nuzzling your face against his chest, inhaling his scent.
"Yes," he answered, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.
"How many times do you think you can make me cum in the next 72 hours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you challenging me?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.
"Maybe," you purred, kissing his jaw, your fingers moving to his chest.
"Well," he began, his hand cupping your ass, his face breaking out into a wide grin, "let's find out.”
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jl-micasea-fics · 2 days
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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh
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𝙭𝙡𝙞𝙭. 𝙞'𝙢 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙
! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !
「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© March 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」
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She finished work two hours ago. He can’t put it off any longer.
His loitering in the bookstore—a place he would argue is much designed for loitering—loses its novelty when his already blistered feet begin to ache. He scopes the city streets to find further employment, but three coffees from three different cafes soon inspire altogether different urges—ones he’d rather see to in the comfort of his own bathroom.
As he enters the apartment, he hears—to coin her term—culinary chaos. Pots and pans clang, a tempting sizzle leads him to the kitchen, where the girl he’s been thinking about all day despite his very best efforts appears to be cooking.
Thoughtlessly, he approaches, peering around her. A frying pan of steak, butter and garlic simmers on the induction hob. She startles on his presence, almost tips the pan until he steadies her elbow.
“Hi.” She blinks up at him.
He swallows. Lets her go immediately. His fingertips burn. “You’re cooking?”
“You’re always telling me I should try.”
“You couldn’t have started smaller?”
“When have you ever known me to do that?”
“Fair.”
In a summery, loose dress befitting the sweltering weather, he wants to point out she's not dressed for cooking, especially where hot oil is concerned. So much skin is on display; her smooth chest, her arms, her lovely neck. His face flames; he busies himself with a glass of water.
“How was your day?” she asks.
Hell. Yours?
“Fine. Yours?”
“Same. Supervisor Jin wasn’t in though, which was nice. We got to choose the playlist.” She grins— Minho can’t bear fucking it. How is she so okay? Did she not cry? Did her heart not tear down the middle like his? Does she really not care?
He slams the empty glass to the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Want me to bring you a towel?”
Fuck this.
“Do you not remember what happened last night?” Minho snaps.
Her face falls. “Of course I do.”
“Really? Because you’re just acting like—” He gestures vaguely. “Like nothing’s changed. Like we’re still best friends, and we’re still—”
“Are we not best friends? You called it off to save our friendship, didn’t you? Or did I misunderstand?”
“N— No. I did. I mean; that was one of the reasons. I just didn’t expect you to be so... fine.”
She blinks. Her face is bathed in a stream of afternoon light, and like a diminishing veil, he sees her eyes glistening, her chin quivering, her cheeks aching with the force of smiling.
“I’m not fine.”
Her voice breaks. Tar oozes in Minho’s gut and squidges through his intestines, cramping everything. He wants to die.
“I’m so far from fine I don’t know if I'll ever be again, but I'm trying. I’m trying to just... get through the next hour. I’m trying.”
She cries, and he feels like his world might end. It’s always been this way. He can’t fucking stand it. Can’t stand her pain, her secrets, her issues—
“Would you rather this instead?” She swipes her damp cheeks. “For me to be miserable?”
“No. You know I hate it when you cry.”
“I don’t want to cry. Fuck, Minho— I just... I want to be better. I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“Like what?”
She shakes her head. “I want to be the girl you could actually stand to be around.”
“Don’t say that. Please, don’t. It’s all wrong. This is all fucking wrong. I just wanted to understand you. To make sense of this disconnect. But you won’t talk to me. I feel like I’ve lost you and I don’t even know why.”
She boldly steps towards him, takes his hands and holds them to her chest.
“I know you don’t understand, and I’m sorry. One day you will. I hope. But I’ve got to get better, Min. I’ve got to learn how to manage all this. I’ve got to be kind to myself. I want to be able to tell you everything without worrying that the truth will force you away from me. I want to share my thoughts with you without all the shame. To open the box and show you what’s inside without being fucking terrified of it.”
Minho stares. Her hands are cold, her chest warm. He feels the pulse of her heart beneath her skin.
“I’ll get you back, bestie,” she whispers. “Count on it.”
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𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >
𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >
< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >
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jayke0 · 2 days
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A Pleasant Surprise
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Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, fem!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 1,441
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
………......................…………………………………….
When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.
“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”
“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.
You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”
You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”
Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.
“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”
His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.
”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”
The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.
“Oh! Right.”
“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”
“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.
His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.
“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”
The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.
“You promise?”
“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.
You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.
“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”
Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.
A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.
“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”
He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.
Rocking his hips up, he pants.
“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”
“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.
“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”
Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.
The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.
“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”
Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.
“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”
You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.
“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”
Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.
His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.
They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.
“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”
His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”
“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”
He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”
His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.
“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.
...........................................................................
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starlightdreaming · 2 days
Text
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 4!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!
Content warning: more blood! *Niffty’s manic laugh* i guess maybe some comfort this time (not from Lucifer lol) also more angst but a smidge bits of it, also LONGESTT CHAPTER YET and small implications of Season 1: Ep. 2 of Hazbin Hotel. (not proofread)
Synopsis: after waking up in hell, you try and find help of any kind.
Further note: I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER SMM U HAVE NO IDEA (sorry it took a while) ENJOY READING MORE THAN I ENJOYED WRITING I!!/! - ✨Lolo💫
Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 (you are here) •<•)b
this chapters song is:
(optional but recommended to improve reading experience!!:!)
。・:*:・゚Lululuna・゚:。*:・。
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“Lucifer, do you want to play with the stars with me?” You ask him, him turning to you and taking your hands into his, him looking at you with loving and caring eyes, you looking deeply into his as well, “I’d love to!” He says, dragging you to the oak tree you had agreed upon to be your hangout spot from now on.
You both rolled into the grass together, told stories at night and used magic to display your dreams of creations, everything was perfect, he was perfect, everything felt perfect.
“I never want to see you again,” He snapped, “And I fucking mean it.” He says as he looked at you with pure hatred in his eyes, oh those eyes, once full of love now full of hatred. Your heart began to beat harder as it ached, ‘this whole mess was your fault wasn’t it?’ you thought as your breath hitched, staring at those eyes he gave you, oh how you never wanted to see them again but here you were. You tried to breathe again but you just couldn’t, those eyes were staring deeply into your soul, you just couldn’t find a way to breathe as you began to hyperventilate, your body felt frozen in terror as you stared back into those careless, dull, hatred fueled eyes, breathe, breathe, breathe!
You sit up quickly, coughing out golden blood before gasping for air desperately, coughing out again before regaining your composure, groaning from the metallic taste in your mouth, you looked down at your hand to see the lavender blue star Emily gave you, seeing that was your only comfort now, it was stained in gold blood as well as you winced in sharp pain behind your back, you look at your back to see a lot of damage was done to your wings, golden blood covered all your feathers as you can see the clear cut Sera did, she attacked your two middle wings as they now seemed split, it made your skin crawl from how horrible they looked, you then looked up to the sky, your stars were barely raining anymore stardust, trying to heal your injured state, they began to fade, if it weren’t for the sentient stars you made during the extermination, you don’t think you would have survived the fall.
You looked at your stars with a tired and weak smile before they could crumble away into dust, thankful that your creations saved your life, you then looked at your surroundings, seeing cities in the distance, followed with screams and cars crashing, you sat for a moment trying to endure the pain that was coursing through your body, you held a wing to ease the pain but all you felt was a wet liquid that now covered your hands, more blood. You needed to find help or something but who in Hell would want to help? Maybe you could try and find a place to stay or hide so you could focus on healing yourself, you didn’t have any attributes to regeneration, so you needed to try and find someone or something to stop the bleedings.
You recovered a bit of mana from resting but it wasn’t enough for you to completely focus on healing since you weren’t very good at it, you decided to try and finally get up but your body was so sore you stumbled a few times before you could manage to even stand, you slouched to your side, limping as you tried to walk out of wherever you even were.
You decided to try and seek help in the city, hoping there might be a blessed heart willing to assist you but just a precaution, you made a little bit of stardust and with Emily’s star she had given you, you made it sentient with the little bit of mana you had left, thankful for her gift and her warm comforting smiles.
The little star chimed to life, floating around you, it was your only sort of defense it wasn’t much but it can for sure pack a punch you wanted it to, you hugged yourself as you limped toward the city, a trail of golden blood dripping behind you as your wings dragged behind you. The lavender blue star floating next to you calmly.
Upon entering the city, you expected monsters and sinners to be in chaos but… no one was here. “Hello?” You called softly, walking into the city, the emptiness making you feel uneasy, the star chimed next to you for comfort, floating around you as it kept watch of your surroundings, “Is anyone here?” You called out again more loudly, “please, can anyone help me?” you begged, not receiving a single answer in the abandoned city.
You held yourself more tightly as you walked, leaving a trail of gold as you looked around, high and low, left and right, you’d hear a sudden noise but it the source or cause would be long gone before you could turn around, I guess it only makes sense seeing as you were an angel and it was extermination day to them, the lonely and uncomfortable silence made you feel like an outcast, something you were used to in a way but it still hurt nonetheless, tears formed from your eyes but you tried to not let them escape from how lonely you felt in your situation and once again, you feel completely helpless as you walked down the empty streets, the silence was completely loud.
You wiped your tears as you passed by stores, broken glass and blood, it really showed a difference between Heaven and Hell, it made you wish you were back in your bed for all eternity, it was better than the pain your were enduring currently. You passed by a store full of televisions, you looked at it- it being the only thing that was making noise in the silent city, you watched the screens as it showed a thin waisted lady in red, her voice loud and clear, “Greetings, my name is Katy Killjoy, here to discuss to you about last weeks extermination, after deep analysis and investigating, we can officially confirm it was canceled thanks to an none other than an Angel itself!” She says before it showed a video of you making it rain stardust in stars in Hell’s skies, dragging every exterminator back into Heaven, your eyes widened as you didn’t expect to be shown to all of Hell.
“And thanks to that, we now have more information about how our deadline is cut in half, down to six months! do you know what that means Tom?” She says as she turned to face him, giving him the chance to finally speak, “yes it-“ “it means we are completely fucked!” she shouts through the screen, your mouth agape from shock, Adam and Sera- despite trying to stop them, they decided to continue this meaningless chaos? the thought of Sera ignoring your words, your voice, it made your blood boil unexplainably, especially on how she tried to kill you behind Heavens back.
You were so frustrated and in so much pain because of her, it made you want to cry and lash out at her angrily but trying to kill her back, the thought of killing her made a smile crawl to your face but you shook that thought out immediately, it was not the answer. If you tried to use violence like she did, you were no different than her and that’s worse than the thought of her death. You snapped out of thought to look at the television again, it was another video of you, of how you fell from the sky, you stared in shock again, they really have their eyes on the skies don’t they? It was you falling practically to your death! but that made you realize, oh- they evacuated the city because you arrived.
That alone, made you realize how lonely you are now, no one was going to help you, familiar feeling eh? history just doesn’t seem to stop repeating itself with you. Your head began to ache as your stomach grumbled, all that stamina you had used was getting to you for sure now but there was nothing you could do, you didn’t have food, shelter or any help, there was nothing here in this place of damnation for you. You were pathetically helpless, at rockbottom, completely.
You wiped the tears that escaped, your lavender blue star pressing against your cheek for comfort, it chimed to you, trying to tell you something, you gave it it’s attention, floating toward the window full of televisions, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where all sinners are welcomed and redeemed, if you want to escape the extermination and get up into Heaven, please head to the building on the top of the hill in the pride ring.” A White haired woman spoke, with other figures who stood there and a glitched out man who was facing away from the screen which was quite concerning- but that wasn’t important, what was important was that they were willing to help and once again, that small sliver of hope reignited in you as you smiled to yourself weakly, you just had to go find that hotel, if they didn’t accept you then… maybe you could just live in a box? that thought made you shudder, not the box but the fact you would be out of luck.
You tried to find the hotel, quickly limping down the streets as you tried to find that said hotel, “Can you help me find it?” You ask your star as it chimed, swiftly floating up in the air, looking around, it wasn’t long before it went back down to you and started guiding you as followed, gold blood still following behind you, you tried your best to keep it together, try to make it to the hotel, it wasn’t much long as you panted heavily up the hill, once upon making it, you collapsed in exhaustion and pain, you sat at the door for a moment to recollect yourself.
It took awhile but the sentient star waited with you patiently and that was enough for you to get back up on your feet, you took a deep breath before knocking, stepping back from the door, hugging yourself in anticipation, shaking a little from exhaustion.
The door opened and you saw a tall blonde female, she looked down and gasped in surprise, “Welcome!- oh- oh my gosh, are you alright?” she says quickly, cutting her introduction off after seeing your terrible state, “Is… this the Hazbin hotel?” you ask politely and kinda desperately, “Yes, yes this is! do you need uh, do you need to come in for a moment? theres a trail of blood coming from you.” She pointed out with concern, “please.” You say weakly and nervously to the stranger in front of you, feeling completely light headed from the blood loss, you felt like you were going to faint any second.
“Oh goodness, just sit here for me okay? I’ll go get something real quick-“ she stammers before running back inside after making you sit and lean on to the door, you waited as you heard the same voice shout “Vaggie!” and “Emergency!” You rested your eyes as you leaned your head against the door, you began to hear static, and it got only louder the longer you had your eyes shut but as soon you opened your eyes the static disappeared, ‘that was weird’ you thought as the tall lady came back and immediately tended to your wounds with another person behind her, you backed away when the blonde tried to touch you, “Oh don’t worry, i’m just trying to help.” She says as she waited for your permission this time to tend to you, her smile was oddly calming and it let you give in as you slowly turned your back, allowing her to touch your wings, the purple female also assisting her, you winced in pain after some places they touched, a “sorry” escaping one of their mouths as they kept going, you all were silent the whole time before the blonde moved to sit in front of you, leaving the other lady to focus on your wings.
“My name is Charlie.” She smiled at you, reaching her hand out for you to shake, you looked up to her, her red eyes staring back at you, “Y/n.” You say as you took her hand to shake, “Nice to meet you, Y/n! Now if I may ask, why were you so injured?” She asked, you looking away, “Oh uhhh, I fell..?” You say not tell her the full truth, she tilted her head confused, “fell? fell from where?” she said confused, “Uhhmm, fromm.. Heaven?” You laughed coyly, as she gasped, “You’re fallen?” She says quietly, “I guess,” pausing now acknowledging that you were actually fallen now, “yeah, I guess so.” you finished, feeling a little ashamed.
“Vaggie, are you almost done?” Charlie asks as she looks over your side to see that she wrapped your last wing up, a tug was felt and you winced a bit, “Yup, finished.” She says after she tied the last knot, Charlie bend down to help Vaggie up before they both helped you up, “Thank you.. for helping me.” You say with a tired smile, your star bouncing on your head, “Oh who’s this little guy?” Charlie says pointing to the star that chimed, “Oh this one of my creations or like a child of mine, same thing.” You say as you put the star in your hand, “I could only make this one sentient because im so tired.” You say, your eyes obviously showed that to them, black circles and all, “Well we can give you a place to stay in the Hotel!” Charlie smiles as she walks in the building, you following after Vaggie but as soon as you stepped into the building, your exhaustion you endured collapsed all at once, making your face plant into the ground with a ‘plomp’
The stared at you in surprise, “Oh, she was that tired.” Charlie responds, walking up to you, “are you alright?” she asks as you just muffled a reply, “foof.” “Uh, what was that?” Charlie asks, turning you to the side, “food.” you say, falling back into place, “Oh, okay just one sec.” She says before getting up to running off, leaving Vaggie to watch over you, she crossed her arms as she stared at you, “So uhh, who’s dis?” A new voice spoke, “Fallen angel, probably same one from the extermination on the news.” Vaggie replied as someone spat out their drink of something, you didn’t bother to get up to look up who was talking, too tired to care, “the hell you mean the angel from da news?” the voice shouted as you heard something rapidly approaching your body but your tiny star pushed them back, launching whatever was going after you, “That thing just launched Niff across the parlor! why are you allowing angels into this place?” The voice shouts again, “Angel, look at her, she’s defenseless, well, except that thing.” she pointed to your star.
Your star stuck to your back, trying to move you but it ended up just dragging you across the floor as everyone silently stared, “Okay i’m back!” Charlie says with a plate of food, walking to you and giving it to you after your star dropped you to the floor again.
You raised your head, resting your arms as you ate on the floor, not caring who’s watching, she also gave you water and that made you feel all the more better, with something finally in your system you managed to sit up, looking up at your surroundings, seeing everyone stare at you in silence, “uhh, hi.” you say awkwardly, with a small wave, as one of then waved back at you.
“Are you feeling alright now?” Charlie asked as you nodded, “Yeah, I just really need to rest, if you would let me please?” You ask as she gave you a hand to help you up, you thanked her as you tried to pat down your tattered dress, it was completely stained with blood from sinners during the extermination and your own as well, “Maybe let’s get you cleaned up?” Charlie asks as she took your hand to help you up the stairs, Vaggie following, “We can introduce you to everyone else once you’ve recovered.” She offers as she guides you down a hall, taking you to a room that was themed with red and black, “you can rest here,” she says as she walks into the room, you following suit along with your star.
You sat on the bed before falling back into it, your sore body finally feeling that euphoric comfort of a bed for who knows how long, your small lavender blue star rested on your head as you stretched a little, feeling your muscles ache, it hurt so bad it felt so good, “Do you need spare clothing or anything?” Charlie asks, Vaggie standing at the front of the door to the room, “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” You say shyly, sitting up again, you weren’t used to such hospitality, “thank you.” You say genuinely, extremely grateful that you found this place in this upside down world, “It’s no problem, you just get some rest alright? Vaggie can you go get something from my dresser?” She says, Vaggie nodding and leaving the room.
“So, can you tell me what happened? about why you’re here perhaps?” She questions, trying to start a conversation in the meantime, waiting for Vaggie to return, “Oh.. that..” you say looking down, away from her gaze, “oh! you don’t have to tell me anything if you want to,” she says, seeing how your expression has changed, “no, its just- it’s kind of a lot? I’ll just cut it short.” You smile at her, waving off her sudden intrusion of a question, “long story short, I asked for for a job and my, err, ‘manager’ gave me one,” you say scratching your cheek, the thought of Sera made you itch, “it was the extermination and I was so shocked on how Heaven was allowing the people to slaughter, so I used up so much of my power to drag every exorcist back to Heaven, leaving a bit of healing, hoping some sinners would recover,” You say as you as you rub your shoulder, still feeling guilty about the lives you witnessed being lost from the angels attack, “I’m really sorry about that by the way,” you apologized on behalf of the angels, “I tried to talk to my leader and it just got.. messy.” you sigh, Vaggie walking back to the room with clothes in hand, Charlie held your hand into her own, making you look up her, her comforting and sympathetic smile made you feel at ease from your riled up stress and tension, “hey, its alright,” she says, trying to soothe your nerves, “i’m just surprised an angel actually went out of their way to stop the extermination, it’s a complete first for anyone in hell to witness,” She smiles again, “i’m really glad you did, it shows that maybe not all angels are as bad as they seem.” she finishes, Vaggie walking up to you both giving, putting the clothes next to you, on the bed.
Charlie stood up, taking Vaggie’s hand into hers, “We’ll leave you alone for now, feel free to join us when you’re ready.” she waves as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
You got up from the bed after she left the room, changing out of your tattered dress and robes, the clothes they gave you were kind of big on you, the shirt was maybe too big, it was like a short night gown on you but you weren’t complaining since it was comfortable, the pants didn’t even fit so you tossed them to the side along with your tattered dress, wanting to deal with it later, you jumped into the bed, sighing in relief again, you laid on your stomach as you hugged the the fluffy pillow, the coolness of the sheets making you feel relaxed, best feeling ever.
Your star chimed as it floated off your head again, it was telling you it was going to keep watch as you slept, that was enough for you as you quickly drifted off to sleep, hugging the pillow as comfort.
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
“look at that one, it looks like a duck!” Lucifer says under the oak tree, pointing to the clouds that drifted by, “Yeah, it does!” You say in awe, “that’s cause I made it be.” he giggles, showing you his pure golden light in his hands, you admired it as you giggled as well.
He laid in the grass as he continued to stare at the sky, his smile was so pure and full of life, “I’m so glad you came into my life, Luna.” He says before looking at you with adoration in his eyes, you stared back at him with a sparkle in your eyes, sitting up next to him, “everyone in my life thinks i’m a problem and avoids me cause of that,” he vents, looking back up at the blue sky, “and ever since you came along, everything just feels so… right.” he smiles, as you continued to stare at him with doe eyes, “I don’t think I could ask for anyone better, you are the first person to believe in me and my dreams for so long and I don’t think I want to lose you,” he says, sitting up and looking back at you, taking your hands into his own, “ever.”
You smiled at him comfortingly, “I don’t want to lose you either, Lulu.” you say as you look back into his eyes, you both stared into each other’s eyes, the silence between you was calm and comforting, “hey I know!” he says, brightening more from an idea, “lets make a promise,” he says, leaning closer to your face, “let’s promise each other that no matter what happens, we will stay together, we will help each other out in the time of need.” he says, pulling out hand in front of you, his pinky finger out, waiting for you to intertwine your finger with his.
You look down at his hand, back to him, you smiled more, “okay, I pinky promise.” you say as you brought your pinky out to hold into his, you both stared at each other with admiration for one another before he quickly pecked your forehead, leaving a warm kiss, your eyes widening in surprise at the sudden gesture, “I love you, my Luna.” he says, you felt your face heat up as he gave you a closed eyed smile, it became silent for a moment again before you spoke, “what’s a love?” you ask, breaking the silence as he looked at you bewildered, going back to smiling at you gently, “maybe one day, you’ll understand.”
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
Your eyes fluttered open, as you groaned from a nights rest, you laid there for a moment before sitting up, groaning from the soreness in your body, you rubbed your eyes as you looked around, beginning to remember where you were. Upon waking up, your lavender blue star chimed as you awoke, happy to see you awake, you put your hands together for your star to rest in your hands, “oh, hey there,” you smiled tiredly, as it floated down into your hand, your used a bit of your mana to make cosmic dust, feeding the little star as it began to glow brightly again, after feeding it, it went to rest on your hair, seeing as your aren’t completely defenseless anymore.
You say in the bed looking around again before turning to your dress, it wasn’t filthy or dirty anymore, it looked clean and new, curious, you shifted out of the bed and went to collect it, they must have cleaned this for you while you were resting, you smiled, thankful for that, seeing as walking around in a shirt and undergarments in public was rather… explicit and embarrassing.
You turned around in the, realizing there was another door in your room, you went to open it curiously, behind the door was a sink and a tub, a personal bathroom, you smiled about that, you can take a bath without any worries now. You went into the bathroom, locking the door, deciding to take the chance to clean the blood and grime that stained your body. You sat on the hem of the tub, your clothes and bandages discarded, you were now scrubbing yourself clean, trying to avoid your wings soaking into the water, after cleaning your body, you focused on your wings, trying your best to not make them sting in pain as much as they already did in the contact with water, you washed them carefully and delicately.
After your relaxing bath, you changed your set of clothes, careful to not hurt your wings that looked like an absolute mess, the feathers were everywhere but you didn’t really bother with them, you’d groom your wings when they were healed up enough, with that thought out of the way, you went to leave the room, walking past a dresser with a mirror, you halted for a moment, stepping back and looking at the glass, your reflection showing, your hair was absolutely frizzled, your eyes were covered with black circles, like you just put black eyeliner around your eyes, you looked like an absolute mess and thing is, you were, emotionally and physically.
You saw a brush on the dresser, you decided to try and brush your hair, trying to look a little more presentable, a small chair sat underneath the dresser, pulling it put to sit down, focusing on your tangles.
You sat the brush down, looking at your now somewhat more clean state, there was nothing to do about the bags under your eyes, so you would just have to let that go, you got up from the chair, pushing it back under the dresser and walking to the door, exiting the room.
You explored the vast empty halls, taking in the details the hotel had, heading down the hall to the lobby, recalling that Charlie said you could join them anytime when you were ready, when you turned the corner, you saw some of the demons gathered in the corner of the lobby, you stood there quietly observing the people who were doing their own things, after scanning around the room, you saw Charlie talking to Vaggie in the parlor, on a sofa, it wasn’t long before Charlie spotted you as well and waved, “Over here, Y/n!” she calls to you, getting up to walk toward you to the stairs, you smiled nervously as everyone’s attention turned to you as you walked down the said stairs.
“How are you feeling?” she asks after you took your last step down, “I’m feeling much better, thank you,” You replied with sincerity, “and thank you for your hospitality.” You say as you bowed a little in respect, “just to make sure,” a male voice spoke as you turned away from Charlie’s to follow the voice, “you ain’t here to kill us right?” a tall feminine male asks, approaching you. You were taken back by his question but it made sense for them to worry, seeing as angels were sent to slaughter the poor souls, “what? no, i’d never-“ you tried to explain, being cut off quickly, “seeing on the news, she was the one who stopped the extermination, I don’t think those are her ideals, Angel.” Vaggie deadpanned to him, defending you.
Charlie laughed awkwardly, “Before we go into details any questions or details, how about a few introductions?” She asks, seeing how the atmosphere quickly turned, she guided you to the parlor, calling everyone to gather around, “Okay, so we have a new uhh,” she pauses trying to think, “guest at the hotel,” She says pointing her hand toward you, you waving shyly, “This is y/n, she arrived here yesterday as we all know and saw but welcome her nonetheless.” she smiles, only you getting stares and glances, “And these are our staff and residents,” she says, showing you the other three that were there, “this is Husk! our bartender,” she pointed to a cat with wings, who only stared at the distance, unfazed, “this is Angel, who is our single resident aside from you,” she says, pointing to the tall male who only scrolled through his phone before smiling and waving at you, “this is Niffty.” she says, pointing to a short woman with one eye who was staring into your soul, she ran up to you quickly, “are you an actual angel? why do you have so many wings? do you casually just wear eyeliner like that?” she says, pointing out your darkened eye bags, intruding your space, you only smiled nervously at her, she was asking to many questions before you could answer them, “and lastly, this is Alastor,” she says as you look at a man covered in red she pointed at, you were surprised about the male since you hadn’t seen him at all until now, he looked at you with an intimidating and intense gaze, smiling at you, making you feel uncomfortable, “he is our facility host.” She says, clasping her hands together with a smile.
Alastor walked up to you with a cane and his hands behind his back before bending down slightly to greet you properly, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear.” He says, stretching his hand out for you to shake, his hands had red sharp like claws making you hesitatingly take it with a nervous smile, “pleasure..” you say, shaking his hand lightly, you got more nervous than before when you began to hear radio static coming from him, the same static you heard when you first arrived here.
“With that out of the way, I was wondering- since you’re an angel and all- what do you think about sinners and redemption?” Charlie asked as Alastor backed away, trailing off to do his own thing as Charlie began to speak to you again, “what do you mean?” you asked curiously, requesting she’d go into more detail, “Well as you see, I began this project a few days ago,” she says, sitting next to you, summoning a pile of paper before taking one in her hand to show you hand-made drawings.
“What I want is to save my people and I thought maybe if they were given a second chance they could be redeemed and go to Heaven,” she says as she points to the drawing but your mind trailed off as soon as she said, ‘my people’ “wait- wait-“ you tried to cut her off, “your people?” you asked, “uhh, yeah?” she answered, confused about your reaction, you then stared at her, noticing her facial features, red cheeks, white skin and blonde hair… Your heart began to twinge a little from the thoughts that began to bubble your mind, “What’s your name..?” You ask, hesitatingly, afraid to find your suspicions might be correct. “Charlie… Morningstar.” she answers, putting down the drawing to respond, your eyes widened as you leaned back from her for a moment before leaning toward her, “You’re Lucifer’s daughter?!” you shouted completely shocked and somewhat… hurt? You felt a pain that couldn’t be explained in your stomach.
“Yeah, my parents are Lilith and Lucifer Morningstar,” she states, answering the truth you tried to avoid for so long, you were just lost in thought as she began to ramble about then both, “and that is why they call me the princess of hell- oh, are you alright?” Charlie asks genuinely, seeing the hurt expression on your face, you snapped out of your thoughts as you shook your head, putting up a facade, “huh? yeah- yeah, I was just surprised, sorry.” you tried to exclaim, “I was just not told about any of this is all, y’know? since being in Heaven and all?” you tried to excuse, not really convincing yourself, Alastor gave a side eye to you, interested on how you were baffled from the mention of Charlie and her parents, “Where are,” you trailed off, hesitating to finish your next question, “your parents?” you asked, nervously.
Charlie looked away from you, thinking momentarily before speaking, “My mother has been gone for quite a while,” she says as she looks back at you with a tinge of sadness in her eyes, “she’s only been gone for like.. seven years now? but i believe she’s off on some sort of business trip,” She says as she tried to smile and wave it off like it wasn’t a big deal, “and my father… we don’t talk much.” she says as she hugs her arm, rubbing it slightly and awkwardly at the topic of her parents but to you, knowing that they don’t have much contact, it all just put your nerves at ease, you don’t think you could handle randomly seeing either of those two… ever.
You sighed, regaining composure, “sorry if I intruded on your personal life,” you apologize, looking at Charlie, “I uhm,” you paused, thinking if you should tell her anything about you, “you see, I used to be best friends with Lucifer,” you smiled, “and I am just happy to know that he’s alright.” You say with a half lie, you weren’t happy about him and Lilith, you never were and you never wanted to let him go like you did, like you had to.
Charlie smiled from surprise, “wait, are you Luna?” she asks, the name being said in so long, you felt rather uncomfortable with it, “I don’t really go by that name anymore but yes, I used to be..” You admit, trying to avoid saying the name yourself as it became more of a haunting of the past. She jumped in her seat on the sofa with a radiated smile, “my father told me so many stories about you when I was younger!” she says as she began to shake in happiness, “it’s so nice to meet you! I didn’t even know it was you!” she continues as she shook your hand suddenly, surprising you with her sudden enthusiasm, “he told me how you’re the daughter of the universe, the way you make stars and constellations align,” she began to ramble, “he even told me about the stars you make are always and are more beautiful than any other angel would ever create.” She smiles as she leaned in toward you with admiration.
You sat there with mixed feelings again, Lucifer said all this about you? the compliments she stated out made your heart flutter and you didn’t know why, surely he’d hate you by now after everything you did? the thoughts began to stress your mind and you just didn’t want to deal with them, you look down at the desk and remembered Charlies hotel project, so you decided it was best to change the subject, “I’m glad he seems to see me that way,” you smiled, “but how about you tell me about your project? I think we trailed off.” You stated, pointing to her drawings, she gasped as she picked up her paper drawing again, “that’s right! as I was saying before, I was thinking of maybe we could try and redeem sinners and try to bring them to Heaven! that way we can stop overpopulation in Hell,” she continued as you listened, taking a liking to her idea, “and if we find a solution to the overpopulation,” she says, bringing up another paper for you to see, “we can end all these exterminations and everyone will be smiling and happy!” she finishes as you smiled to her ideals, “So what do you think?” she asks as she puts down the drawing and looked at you eagerly awaiting your answer, “I actually think this is a great idea!” you say as you sit up in your seat eagerly, loving the idea of second chances, Charlie smiled more at your response as she squeed in excitement, having an angel finally agree on her passion project, “I’m so happy you believe in my cause!” she shouted in happiness, Vaggie smiling that someone else agreed who was the same as her.
“I was so upset when I found out extermination was allowed, it’s completely terrible as a whole.” you say as you leaned back into the sofa in distaste for the thought of ‘divine judgment’ amongst Charlie’s people, “So do I! None of them deserved what was given to them.” she says as she frowns, “I agree,” You say empathetically, “If you would let me, I’d like to stay and help with your cause.” You offered, Charlie smiling once again, “Really?” She asked with pure joy, “Yeah! I believe this could work!” You say with full confidence.
This made Alastor raise a brow at you and Charlie as he subtly listened in your whole conversation, he turned away with a ‘hmm’ as he thought to himself, he then shadowed up behind the sofa you and Charlie sat, nudging Vaggie away a little, “So we have a new staff member now?” Alastor smiled, Vaggie rolling her eyes at Alastor and walking around the sofa to sit next to Charlie, you blinked at him in surprised from his sudden join in on the conversation, “Yes we do!” Charlie says as she sat up, to gain everyone’s attention to announce you were now part of the crew, “everyone, everyone, I’d like to announce that we have a new staff member on our team!” She says as she points to you, they weren’t very enthusiastic as you had expected but not really expected them to but it really didn’t bother you since you preferred to avoid attention. Not to mention that Alastor had left the lobby before Charlie even began.
“We can discuss what you can do later,” Charlie says to you, before heading toward the middle of the lobby to pace around, “right now, what we need to do is discuss how we can try and bring sinners in,“ she began as Husk walked off to the green creepy area at the back of the lobby, drinking whatever green glass he held, “extermination is coming in six months instead of a year, it’s no big deal, just a little set back,” she says as a cat appears and follows her before jumping over to the sofa to sit next to you, you stared at it in surprise as it tilted it’s head at you, blinking its one eye and all you could process in your mind is- oh my stars its so cute.
You stared at the cat as it walked further to you, you didn’t want to move to touch it, afraid it might run off, she sat right next to you, you hesitated to pet it but it leaned into your touch and you never felt so much serotonin fill your body all at once, you pet her head gently as the kitty purred and you were squealing on the inside as you continued to pet her. You picked up the black cat, carrying her in your arms as you walked toward Charlie and Vaggie, “don’t you think if the next extermination deadline is sooner than expected, wouldn’t sinners be desperate?” you asked, while petting the cat in your arms, “yeah,” Vaggie thought, “maybe desperate enough to try and do anything to escape the extermination.” Vaggie spoke with a smile appearing on her face making Charlie gasp, getting the idea she was leading on, “this is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!” she shouted, raising her arms in the air, you smiling as you thought the same as well, only to frown when the kitty jumped out your arms, feeling the world shatter again inside your soul.
“Cute idea and all,” Angel says, tapping through his phone, “but you really going to go out in all of this?” He asks, showing a video of demons screaming through the city with fire everywhere, “well, it’s not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep-“ she says before being cut off from a loud explosion, making you jolt in surprise, hiding behind Charlie and Vaggie.
Everyone ran outside to see what the ruckus was about, you following last, you weren’t sure what to expect being new in Hell and all but when you saw outside was a massive war machine and Alastor at the top of one of the hotels balcony, talking with the attacker who damaged one of the hotels walls.
Well, needless to say, your ‘first day’ in Hell was going to be quite the ride to your new step in your new fallen life but you couldn’t complain, it was much more freeing than it ever was in Heaven.
✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧
TAGGLISSSTT YIPEEE:
@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1 @darling-may-i @pink-apples001 @sparkleyfishies @mollzaj @glowymxxn @hyperkaiperrose
thank you for reading!!:!/!
AMERICA YA :D
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galactic-space · 2 days
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“What if danny went feral on dash” “what if Danny absolutely scares dash” “what if-“
Ok… I love that, but imagine Danny no longer can afford to care about dash or any of his gang because he’s more afraid of being fucking killed by a crazy villain or something?
Like Danny is walking though school after a crazy intense scene, only to be shoulder bumped by dash followed by “watch where you are fenturd”
Like yea Danny would totally go around and have a locker open right at dashes face, but it’s just a small comedic moment to lighten the dark mood with Danny.
Like you see how Danny- nor the narrative- focuses on dash and Danny’s “bully and bullied” relationship because that’s no longer on Danny’s mind. Dash has no room for him, and it’s only after a bunch of episodes later does dash actually confront Danny about his weird…. Weird bs.
Cuz dash is THE MAN. Fenton is his favorite punching bag, but it’s hard to punch a bag that seems to be already dealing with another asshole pushing him around ( though who? Dash could only guess )
Only to be blown off by danny because dammit dash not now I’m in the middle of something
And we see how dash realizes that he’s no longer scary. Fenton isn’t scared of him anymore and he hates that. Cuz what on gods green earth has Fenton all high n mighty with his bs? Bullshit
So of Course dash tries to teach Danny a lesson
And only THEN does the “Danny scaring dash” comes in.
Cuz dash tried to swing, Danny dodged and had to literally grab him close and spell it out to him to leave me alone
And fuck, dash wouldn’t care if it wasn’t for the intense look in fentons eyes. That’s the look of someone who’s going though it right now
Maybe dash tries to double down, but Danny won’t let him
In the end, dash needs to step away, cuz it ain’t gonna end good for him if he doesn’t
But that doesn’t mean he’s gonna give up. Cuz now he’s curious.
What the fuck has gotten Fenton all tied up in a twist, huh?
There, we now have a small dash arc or something idk
TLDR: Hes basically having to fight for his time on screen because dash is no longer important to the story and he’s becoming aware of how he’s slowly being phased out, and wants back in
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star-sim · 1 day
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how you hurt him ☆ ot7
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☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: all the ways that you hurt him (ft. song lyrics) ☆ genre: angst ☆ warning(s): toxic relationship, toxic! reader, mentions of cheating, this is practice for an english project so please bear with me, most of this is very figurative/abstract ☆ word count: 2.9k total ☆ aka enhypen boys as sad love songs, it’s like 1am i will edit later 😭
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
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heeseung ☆
"why would you ever kiss me? i'm not even half as pretty" — heather, conan gray
was there something wrong with heeseung? what if he wasn't good enough for you? did you think he was ugly? disgusting? annoying? needy?
at the beginning of your relationship, you made it clear to heeseung that you weren't good with words.
"don't worry about it," heeseung had told you. "i'm not good either."
he thought you meant that you found it hard to say "i love you."
what you meant was that you were indeed good with words, just bad at saying nice things to him.
at first he thought he was being ridiculous, a prisoner of his own mind.
he knew you loved him— how could you possibly not?
but if you loved him, why did you say such nasty things to him?
"god, heeseung, you're so stupid."
"i can't believe i'm dating someone like you."
"i'm disgusted with you."
he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
what had he done to make you repulsed by him? was he being sensitive?
he hated himself for all of it.
he hated the creeping feelings of jealousy that would suffocate him like a noose to a prisoner whenever he saw you talk to another man. did you like him more than heeseung? what if you wanted to leave him?
he hated how he craved what little kind words you could give him. it was so rare for you to compliment and speak to him gently, so when you did, heeseung was drunk on it.
he hated how insecure he got.
he hated how his mind was a gallow of its own.
he hated how afraid he was.
"you're so pretty," you whispered into his ear.
heeseung's stomach did flips. did you really mean it? was he as pretty as all the other men you entertained yourself with? was that why you kissed him and not them?
did this mean that you really loved him?
heeseung felt something tighten around his neck. not in that suffocating way that made him claw at his skin until he bled as he stared in the mirror asking himself what could be changed, but in the way that made him feel warm all over.
he’d wait at the gallows like a convicted prisoner, he’d stand there proud, ready to say his last words. he’d keep his hands behind his back, he’d admire the brass noose that would be his eternal necklace.
because for heeseung, to be with you, and to love you, was to be helpless.
to love you was to wait like a dog in the cold.
to love you was to eat your every word like it was his last meal.
to love you was to be your prisoner waiting for you to execute him.
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jay ☆
"pretend that we are more than friends, then of course I'll let you break my heart again" — let you break my heart again, laufey
it's not your fault, jay tells himself. it's not your fault that you can't love him.
but at what point does it become your fault?
you knew that he loved you. he'd told you multiple times, shown you a billion other times. anyone with eyes could tell that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone knew.
especially you— you who rejected him time and time again, laughing that he was just a friend to you.
but here you were, pressing yourself up against him, looking at him with lidded eyes and licking your lips like you wanted to eat him. you held his hand against your chest, whispering a soft "good night." jay knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, not with you so close to him, not with the ache in his chest.
it's not your fault that he loves you, jay thought. but it is your fault that you lead him on, that you pretend to kiss him, that you snuggle up next to him knowing that he'd lay down his life for you.
did you enjoy torturing him like this?
what pleasure did you take in constantly making him think that he had a chance with you?
was this how it was going to be forever?
were you always going to keep him waiting like this, just because you knew that he'd stay no matter what?
jay swallowed the lump in his throat.
he couldn't continue living like this, having you play with his feeling like this.
"jay..." you mumbled, reaching out for him. jay was pulled out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering to you. you looked so innocent and peaceful despite himself. how could he ever stop? how could he stop when it was you at hand?
"i'm here," he hummed, throwing an arm around you. i'm always here.
you were warm, and soft, and everything that jay could ever want in a person. your soft breathing brushed up against his cheek.
jay stared at your sleeping face.
would it hurt to pretend that you were more than friends?
he let his eyelids fall slowly.
he could imagine you and him dancing in the kitchen, laughing together as the scent of jay's cooking filled the apartment. jazz music would be playing, and you'd pretend to be an old flapper couple from the '20's, swirling around the cold kitchen tiles.
your words from earlier echoed in his head.
"i love you so much, jay!"
"you're the best."
"how could i ever be so lucky to meet you?"
it made his heart pound in his chest, unable to hide the lovesick grin spreading on his face.
he knew your words meant nothing, that you truly only saw him as a friend.
he needed to stop this delusion now, else he'd be even more hurt than he already was. you broke his heart over and over again, as if it meant nothing to you.
but as you and him twirled around his head, basking in each other's presence, jay couldn't bring himself to let you go.
he'd let you, jay thought. he'd let you break his heart.
as many times as you wanted.
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jake ☆
"the other man will always cry himself to sleep, the other man will never have her love to keep" — the other woman, lana del rey
of course jake knew that he wasn't the only man in your life.
how many times did he lay in bed at night, wishing that it was him that could hold you? how many times did he dream of being the man that could call you his? how many fantasies did he have of marrying you, of giving you the world?
and how many times did he have to remind himself that he couldn't have you— that you already had someone to love?
it made jake feel sick, seeing all the pictures that you posted with you and your husband, hearing all the chatter about your 2-year wedding anniversary, and forcing himself to smile as a tight-lipped "congratulations" fell from his mouth.
but what made him even more sick was how happy he felt whenever you showed up at his doorstep in the depths of the night.
jake couldn't help it.
he couldn't help how his stomach did flips when your hands slithered up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you pressed kisses against his jaw.
he couldn't help how his body moved on its own as he took in the scent of your perfume, his head filling with nothing but you, you, you.
he couldn't help how he craved you, how he was unable to pull away from you, even though he knew you had a husband waiting for you back home.
he couldn't help how for a moment, he could pretend that you were his; for a moment, he could live in the illusion that he was the one that you came home to every night, that he was the one that you woke up with in the morning, that he was the one that you sat at the kitchen table with to discuss your weekly grocery list, that he was the one that you laughed with in the depths of night, that he was the only man that you loved.
but as quickly as it started, you were already out the door, waving goodbye with a sweet smile as if you hadn't committed a crime against your husband.
jake knew the sight of your retreating back better than anyone, and as he closed the door, he'd suck in a sharp breath.
he would deny it over and over, until his words lost meaning.
but he knew the truth.
he was a fool for thinking that he could have you, for after all this time, he was the other man.
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sunghoon ☆
"i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place" — i bet on losing dogs, mitski
you and sunghoon were never meant to work out, and he knew this.
everyone said that you'd hurt him. he'd seen it with his own eyes, how you bore your bloody teeth and ripped into people like they were your prey, how you barked venomous words at people.
you were a losing dog to begin with, a losing dog that would never truly love him the same way you loved yourself.
and before he knew it, sunghoon realized that everyone was right.
you sunk your teeth into him, feasting on what love he could give you like a ravenous hyena.
but how could he resist you? how could he resist your touch, your warmth, your limited moments of compassion?
wounded, bleeding, scarred, sunghoon staggered away from the killing floor. yet, he was unable to stop himself from turning over his shoulder to see your face.
there was something disgusting he felt, something that made sunghoon nauseous. his stomach churned. and then he realized, he couldn't bring himself to leave you.
because you were a starving dog, thristy for a victim.
because you were a wailing dog, weeping over your kill as if it would atone you.
because you were a losing dog, a dog that sunghoon placed his bets on.
and it was time for him to pay the price of his actions.
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sunoo ☆
"i know who you pretend i am" —washing machine heart, mitski
sunoo wasn't stupid.
he knew it better than anyone, that your heart didn't belong to him. it never did, and it never will.
sunoo saw the way that you yearned, he saw the way that your eyes lit up, he saw the way that you gazed with love in your eyes— all for someone that wasn't him.
so why did you kiss him like he meant anything to you? why did you hold him like he could have you?
he knew why.
"i missed you so much," you breathed against his ear, pressing him against the wall. "so, so, so much."
the taste of your lips was addicting.
you liked to kiss roughly. you liked to run your fingers through his hair and pull it harshly, making him groan lowly against your lips. you liked to slip your fingers up his shirt, making him shudder.
sunoo liked to kiss gently. he liked it when your lips would melt against his. he liked it when you played with the clasp of the silver chain around his neck. he liked it when you pulled away and giggled softly at the lipstick smudge at the corner of his lip.
he didn't like it rough like you did.
but he took it all.
he took it all, because he loved you.
he took it all, even though he knew that you were kissing him pretending that he someone else.
it wasn't hard to tell.
you wore the gold necklace that he gave you, never any of the ones that sunoo got you.
you didn't even blink when sunoo's name was said, but the mere mention of his interests or career had you reeling.
and of course, he liked when you kissed roughly so you were a rough kisser, even though sunoo liked it gentle.
you don't even look at sunoo the way you look at him.
when you said "i miss you," sunoo could tell that you didn't mean it.
you didn't miss sunoo, you missed him. you just missed the attention that sunoo gave you.
he knew who you pretended he was.
but all he could do was look into your eyes, and be reminded of a tragedy: that while you couldn't love him back, he loved you.
"i missed you, too," he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat, swallowing his dignity.
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jungwon ☆
"if you need to be mean, be mean to me" — i don't smoke, mitski
to be vulnerable, to be at someone's mercy, to be someone's lamb for the slaughter, was jungwon's biggest fear. he'd die before he'd let someone take advantage of his weakness.
yet as you slipped out of his grip, your once loving eyes turning cold as hands that once held him in your arms became the hands that striked him, all he could do was sit back and take it.
words like daggers into his back, slashing him over and over like he was a sacrificial lamb for a god that could not save him. hot tears would line as eyes as you raised your knife at him, sending shivers down his spine that made him cower into his skin, chanting apologies like they were prayers.
jungwon should run. after all, that was all he spent his life doing.
but how could he escape you when you kissed his tear-stained face? how could he leave you, for when your anger simmered down you cradled his cheek, whispering that you loved him?
it hurt, it hurt so bad.
but if you must destroy him, if you must slaughter him until your killing floor was covered in blood, if you must cut him up into little pieces for your own pleasure, so be it.
he'd follow you into the slaughterhouse, knowing full well that the darkness was the last thing he'd ever see, and jungwon would close his eyes and thank the person that crafted your blade anyway.
you can kiss him, you can hold him close, or you can strike him, you can treat him like an animal. he wouldn't care. it would be the same either way; he'd be glad that it was you.
for he was your lamb, and you were his butcher; for if you needed to be mean, be mean to him.
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riki ☆
"even though she isn’t even really gone, but things are just different ever since she cut her blue hair off" — blue hair, tv girl
of course riki noticed. how could he not?
all those bored looks when he was talking, aimless nods when he asked you a question, and loveless kisses that you pressed against his skin. it took you hours to respond to his texts and calls, and when you did, you responded curtly. you stopped coming home, always having plans on weekends with no time for him.
riki didn't know what happened.
he thought that you and him had such a great relationship, filled with love and laughter.
but somewhere along the way, you seemed to lose interest in him.
he asked all your friends, but they said nothing changed about your behavior.
did riki do something wrong? did he make you angry? all questions that he'd never find the answer to.
the silence was piercing, ringing in his ears. he'd just asked you how your day was, and all he got back was a simple, vacant stare, before you turned back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly. his heart sunk so his stomach, brows crashing together.
had riki lost you? all he wanted was for you to look at him, for you to acknowledge him. was he being dramatic?
please, riki begged. please look at me, please see me, please love me.
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