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#i need more practice with colors sigh
dietmimo · 2 months
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"Look! It's a butterfly!"
"Oh wow! Hello there Butterfly"
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stargirlrchive · 6 months
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── KINKTOBER DAY NINE
mirror sex w/ simon riley ─ female!reader
cw: reader being insecure, fingering, p in v, slight choking, slight hair pulling, soft dom simon, cum play(?)/finger sucking, PRAISE AND BODY WORSHIP (RAHHHH)
NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ✩ GENERAL MASTERLIST
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“you can’t be serious, love.”
your shoulders shrugged softly as if to brush it off, as if this hadn’t been weighing on your heart so heavily.
“i just don’t-” you cut yourself off before sighing defeatedly, “i don’t like how i look right now. i prefer not to go out and just be home, where im not going to be hyper-aware of how i look.”
simon’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, his eyes glazing over you entirely. you were perfect. he didn’t understand what there was not to like. but as you began to fidget under his stare, guilt ate at him.
guilt for not realizing your own insecurities had begun to eat at you and that they had festered to the point where him looking at you caused you to squirm. he leaned closer, hands rubbing up your thighs and towards your waist to pull you to him.
he sat you firmly on his lap, his face digging into your neck as he inhaled your familiar scent. “has my pretty girl not been feeling her best?”
your face grew hot as his hand laid on your belly, toying with the elastic of your shorts. you answered him with another shrug.
his fingers stilled for a brief moment, “do you want me to make you feel better, hm?”
you gave him a short nod before he pried your legs open. his fingers dipping between your thighs to rub at your clit through your shorts. a soft hiss leaving your mouth as you relaxed into him, “need you to tell me when you aren’t feeling good, baby.”
you whimpered when his fingers left your clit, standing up and taking you with him. his big hand moved back up to your belly as he guided you both to your bedroom.
when he walked the two of you past the room and into your bathroom, your eyebrows furrowed together.
“i thought-”
he nipped at your ear, closing the door behind him with his foot as he caged you in between the restroom vanity and his hard muscled chest. “we are. but i want you to look at yourself while i fuck you.”
his fingers slowly removed your shirt, pressing his hardening cock against your ass as he kissed down your throat, “want you to remember just how fucking beautiful you are.”
you were about to protest but a soft growl came from simon and the words died on your tongue. his fingers unclasping your bra. his eyes hungrily devouring the sight before him as his fingers skimmed over your belly and towards your breast.
“so pretty,” he mumbled more to himself, but it didn’t stop the familiar ache that began to throb between your thighs.
his thumb gently swiped across your nipple and it hardened beneath his touch. his face tucked into your neck as he groaned quietly, “fuck.”
through the mirror, he watched you with an almost drunken haze. watching the way your body reacted to his touch.
his fingers slowly pulled down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear. his fingers slipping into the fabric and rubbing at your clit. sliding his thick fingers between your folds.
“already so wet for me.”
your face colored in embarrassment and tucked into his neck to not look at yourself anymore. simon gave a soft click of his tongue, showing his disapproval.
his unoccupied hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your face and forcing you to watch yourself. your thighs quivered gently as one of his fingers sunk into you.
“i said i wanted you to watch.”
you whimpered softly at the command in his voice, still so very gentle but firm that you felt it in your bones. your cunt clenched around his finger.
the flat of his palm laid against your puffy clit as he eased a second finger into you. “how could you possibly think you aren’t beautiful?”
your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as his cock rutted against your ass. “do you have any idea of how many times i have to restrain myself from just fucking you wherever we’re at?”
you cried out softly as his fingers gently tightened around your throat, your eyes snapping back open to watch yourself as he fucked you with his fingers.
“or how many times i have to stop from fucking ripping the eyes out of some idiot who’s lookin’ at you for too long?”
you came around his fingers quickly and unexpectedly, and simon grunted when your thighs closed around his hand.
“you drive me crazy, baby. it’s not fair.”
you were breathless and loose, simon slipping his fingers out of you and towards your mouth. your lips instinctively wrapping around his fingers as you licked them clean.
you whined quietly when he pulled his fingers out, “see? you even taste good.”
his fingers unwrapped from your throat and your panties were being pulled down your legs. simon was spreading your thighs before you knew it.
his sweats pulled down only enough for his hard cock to be out. “no fair-”
he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your hair as he tapped his cock against your clit, one hand on your stomach to keep you up right, your back against his chest. and the other guiding his shaft through your slick folds.
he pushed the tip of his cock into you, grunting softly, “say it, baby-”
your fingers gripped at the counter, even with him stretching you out with his fingers he was still so big. it always took some getting used to.
“say you’re my pretty girl.”
he sunk fully into you, pressing soft kisses to your hair before delivering short, shallow thrust.
your eyes had locked onto simon’s through the mirror, and maybe it was the conviction in his voice, or the sex haze, but either way you did feel it.
like you were his pretty girl.
“come on, baby. say it.”
one of his hands laid on your hip while the other tangled in your hair. his thrust increasing in speed as he grunted soft praises into your ear.
“i-im your pretty girl.”
“damn right you are.”
his thrust picked up pace, fucking into you as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you and holding you against him. grunting into your ear as you squealed softly from pleasure.
“my sweet girl, you make such pretty noises too.”
you were sure your face couldn’t have burned hotter. his compliments seeping into your skin as you tightened around his cock.
your body spasming against his hold as he held your gaze through the mirror. fucking you through your orgasm.
a quiet groan fell from his mouth as he came, deep inside of you and not once did he let you go. the both of you panting and exhausted as he kissed your neck.
“want you to tell me next time you’re feeling like this. i’ll make sure to remind you just how lovely you are.”
and you knew that he would.
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taglist: @trashfox @king-julian6201 @cyberfreaky @tojisun @lazystorycollector @cosmicanakin @yeoldedumbslut @httpsmama @punk-22 @youcraveet @moxiz @hisa-plush @alastairheir @ra-im @ifellinthebong @darlingvinny @aeplern @tallmanlover @screamingoverfiction @mixling-blog @pretty-npeach @babygirl-riley @cringeycookies ; lmk if you would like to be tagged <3
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
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“I need to tell you something.”
Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.
Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.
Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.
“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?
Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.
“How did you know?”
Jesus H. Christ. Not again.
Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.
“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”
He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”
“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”
Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.
“I'm really not interested, man.”
“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”
“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”
“She's a lesbian.”
And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.
“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”
It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.
Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.
“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.
Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”
Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.
“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.
“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”
“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.
“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.
Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.
“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”
Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.
It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.
He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.
“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.
The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.
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cozage · 8 months
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It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person
Congrats on 2k followers ♡
I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)
Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡
Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3
Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740
Returned Kisses
Zoro
“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”
Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”
Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 
“I guess you’ll just have to see!”
His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 
“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 
Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 
When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 
“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 
“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”
He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 
When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”
Sanji
“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 
“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”
“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”
“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 
“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”
The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 
You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 
“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”
You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”
His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 
“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 
Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”
You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”
“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 
Luffy
“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 
“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”
“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”
His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 
He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”
“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 
“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”
You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.
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chaepink · 9 months
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bark for me | sub!denji
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wc: 400+ words | masterlist
dom!reader, kinda puppy boy!denji, slight crying, pet play, collars, praising, begging, thigh riding
note : puppy boys are so cute
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"bark for me, denji"
The blond flushes red at your command. You want him to bark?
"Go on. Do you need me to repeat myself?"
You raise an eyebrow at him and give a sharp tug to his leash, making him whimper. With the way he's sitting at your feet looking up at you, you're able to see the way the bell connected to his red collar—you knew the color would look good on him—jingles as he moves and how his face turns red from your praise or insults.
Especially the way his dick is hard and continues to leak pre-cum no matter how hard he tries to hide it between his legs and with his hands.
Denji gulps and licks his lips. The fact that he's naked and that you're fully clothed makes him even harder.
"w-woof?"
Your stare stays blank. Did he do it wrong?
"Thats disappointing denji," you say, letting out a feign sigh. "That sounded like a question rather than a actual bark. Maybe you're not fit to be my dog after all-"
"N-No! P-Please!" You stop talking as you see actual tears well up in Denji's eyes. "Please... i-i swear i'll be a good dog for you!" He paws at your legs as he pouts at you. His bell jingles as he frantically tries to convince you for another chance.
You coo at him, your hand going down to caress his check. You can feel the way he tilts his head to rub against it gently.
"Really? Then prove it." Denji shivers at the tone of your voice. "Know that I won't give you another chance so go on and bark." He knows its not a request, its a command. And he's not one to ever disobey you.
"woof woof!"
At last you smile at him and Denji feels his heart swell, knowing he did it well. You give him a pat on the head and rub it, watching as he lowers his head to hide his flushed face.
"Good boy"
You watch as his body shivers from the praise. He lets out a whimper as he rubs his head against your thigh, looking at you with pleading, innocent eyes.
"Please"
"Please what, baby?"
He lets out a whine. "Touch me please!"
You take a quick glance at his hard dick and look back at Denji who has a pout on his lips. How adorable.
"How about you ride my thigh?" You watch as a grin appears on Denji's face and his personality changes into a more energetic, happy one.
"R-Really?" You smile and if you didn't know any better, you would've thought that there was a actual tail behind him wagging side to side if you were to look.
"Yes baby, think about it as a reward." Immediately he jumps onto your thigh, a whimper leaving him as his dick touches your thigh.
He slowly rocks against you, afraid to speed up in case he's not supposed to. But your impatience gets the best of you and you grab his hips to force him to ride your thigh faster.
He jolts as he lets out a gasp that soon turns into a needy whine. He quickly crams his face into your neck, letting out quiet whimpers and moans as he wraps his arms around your neck. Each roll of his hips against your thigh has him letting out even louder noises, letting you to assume that he's close.
A hand leaves his hips and goes to travel up his back before it gently wraps around his neck.
You hear his breathing turn ragged when you gently squeeze his neck, your head turning sideways to whisper in his ear.
"such a adorable puppy, arent you?" Denji lets out a whimper and wraps his arms around you even tighter, his hips practically rutting against your thigh on his own, trying to chase his orgasm.
"If you want to cum, i want to hear you properly beg for it, denji."
With a slight nod, he lifts his head from your neck only to throw it back as particular thrust of your thigh has his body shivering in pleasure.
"ah! please! fuck- let me cum please" He looks at you with tear-filled eyes as he paws at your chest with a pout.
"wanna k-kiss you ah!" You quickly bring him into a kiss filled with teeth clashing and some rather lewd noises coming from him.
He's so eager, really. Even with the way his hips are humping your thigh as if his life depends on it and the way he's moaning and mewling against your lips, you still think he's so so cute.
A perfect puppy boy for you to ruin, for you to keep, and to play with whenever your heart desires.
You pull back from the kiss and have to pull on his hair in order to keep him from chasing your lips to which he whines at. With a grin, you mumble against his mouth.
"Go on and cum, baby."
He widens his eyes at your command but he doesn't waste another second and shoves his face into your neck with a muffled cry, his body spasming as his orgasm hits him hard. Ropes of his cum shoots out and onto your clothes and his chest.
His hips slow down as the intensity dies down. You press a kiss onto the side of his head.
"You did so good for me denji." Denji lets out a hum and cuddles against your body further. He stays still and when you look at his face, you find out that he fell asleep on you.
Perhaps your puppy boy used up too much of his energy today.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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hoshigray · 11 months
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Pleasurable Practice
Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...
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A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!
Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.
Wc: 2.8k
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"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"
"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."
"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.
It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.
Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"
You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"
The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"
"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."
"What language?"
"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"
Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.
".....Please stay and help me."
"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."
"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.
It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.
After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.
"What're you doing?"
However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.
Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.
"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."
"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"
"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."
The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"
You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."
Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."
Huh? "Excuse me?"
"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."
Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"
"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.
For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.
The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.
"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"
Huh? "What?"
"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."
His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.
Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.
"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."
"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."
He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."
"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!
You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"
Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.
"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."
It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"
He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.
He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."
Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.
Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??
"Túmbate."
He captures your attention. "What?"
"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."
Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"
"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."
You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."
"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."
His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."
His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.
"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."
He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."
Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.
His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.
Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.
He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."
You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!
With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.
"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.
"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"
He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."
"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"
"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.
"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."
He hums. "Lyla."
"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.
"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"
"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"
"...."
"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.
Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"
"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."
"Can you please give us the co—"
"Already gave it to Jess."
"Then what was the point—"
"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."
To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"
"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"
"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"
"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"
It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"
"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.
"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."
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dragon-ascent · 3 months
Text
Imagine having been with Zhongli for a while now, and you're suspicious about his true identity. So you decide to stage a confrontation when the two of you are alone at Wuwang Hill one night.
"I know what you are."
Zhongli stiffens, a little perturbed by the seriousness in your tone. The blue wisps of light dancing around you two cast an eerie glow upon the scene, which happens to be unfolding in the dead of night. He clears his throat. "Please, enlighten me, my dear."
You continue, looking him square in the eye. "Your skin is pale, and...alright, admittedly not cold. You never seem to need sleep. You only wear dark colors, and you have a refined manner of speaking and thinking, almost like...you come from another time."
Outwardly, Zhongli maintains his composure, though in his head he's already going through numerous ways he can gently break the news to you without you passing out.
"You really like silk flowers, which are red...like blood," you say excitedly. "Your eyes are unnaturally amber. Blood also comes in shades of amber, sometimes."
Your lover's brows are furrowed now. He only becomes even more perplexed when you start taking off the scarf around your neck, unraveling it slowly. "Darling, it's cold tonight-"
"So, you're a vampire, aren't you?" you cut in pointedly, a triumphant grin plastered on your face. "I should have known! I suspected it all along."
Zhongli blinks. "Er...pardon?"
Your grin widens. "Now that I know, please don't think I'll be scared of you! I've always been into supernatural creatures. So...feel free to drink my blood whenever you please!" You bare your neck to him, practically giddy. "But be gentle, it's my first time!"
When the appalled Zhongli reveals his real identity as the Prime of Adepti, God of Contracts, and former Geo Archon, you merely sigh, upset at having gotten it wrong.
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lecsainz · 3 months
Text
˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS
summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.
an: my inspiration is running low 😭
( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE
Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.
You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."
Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."
You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."
"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."
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˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON
Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.
You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."
He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"
You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."
Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."
You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."
Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"
With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."
Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.
"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."
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˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ
Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.
"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."
"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.
You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."
Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."
As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.
When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"
You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."
He winked, "But you love it."
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˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN
As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.
"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.
You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."
Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."
You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.
"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.
You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."
He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."
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˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE
You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.
"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.
Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.
You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."
She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."
Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."
Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.
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˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE
You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.
"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.
You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"
Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"
You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."
He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."
With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡
Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)
cw: social burnout
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words
“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer. 
“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James. 
“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?” 
“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic. 
“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.” 
“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.” 
This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home. 
“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much. 
“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.” 
You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.” 
Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic. 
“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away. 
“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.” 
“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.” 
Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table. 
“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?” 
You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”
Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead. 
You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”  
“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?” 
“No. I’m fine.” 
“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?” 
“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss. 
“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.” 
“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.” 
“Drained how?” he presses. 
“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?” 
“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?” 
You nod, relieved. 
He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.” 
“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue. 
Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his. 
“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.” 
“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side. 
“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head. 
“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”
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maybankswhore · 4 months
Text
WHEN YOU KNOW , YOU KNOW.
summary. rafe realizing you’re it for him.
warnings. none.
“ when you know , you know. when you know , you know. it kinda makes me laugh — running down that path. when you’re good it’s gold. ”
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Rafe’s head felt heavy. Your hands delicately worked at him. The only sound heard was the humming coming from the wind that whipped the side of his home furiously , demanding for you to hear it.
There were a million things Rafe Cameron could feel at one time. He was a master at anger— stowing away all that sadness , all that pain with flying fist and a mouth that could bite with words. He was a master at manipulation , at cruelty.
Though what he hardly ever felt was guilt. Sadness. Regret.
As he sat with his head low , he replayed the events that were still fresh in his mind. It seemed as though all he saw was red when Ward’s attention turned towards her. Scowling. Mocking.
He couldn’t stand it.
Rafe respected his father. Loved him. Craved his attention and validation. He could take whatever verbal abuse was given to him and swallow it , digest it and shit it back out because he was used to it.
But you— he could never allow that to happen to you , for that to be your future. As soon as the shameful comment left his mouth Rafe knew that he had to correct it despite what the consequences would be. If he didn’t , it’d happen again. Harsher. And after that , again. It’d happen like a replayed message over and over.
You were too good. There was an aura about you that was kind. There was so much about you to uplift and worship like the way your hair fell out of your ponytail when you worked. How it framed your face and helped the apple of your cheeks stand out more. Or when you’d always hold the door open for anyone , no matter who it was. Always giving the kindest smiles to strangers , making friends with just about anyone you came across because that’s how beautiful and inviting your soul was.
“You’re staring.” He heard you murmur.
Finally your head had lifted to look up at him. Your eyelashes coated with mascara that was now fading. Eyes like crystals.
“No.” Rafe shook his head. “Thinking.”
His response made you frown. Ward was always a sore spot for Rafe. He didn’t talk about him much or the weight the relationship held , but you knew. You didn’t need to be told.
“I’m sorry.” Shame overcame you. The whole fight that ensued had been because of you and although you knew Rafe would never place that blame on you— you put it on yourself.
Your apology caused Rafe’s head to snap towards you. Eyes focused on your face as he reached out to grab ahold of your chin gently. Your eyes swirled in the color of his as you made eye contact with him. Somehow the feeling of his ring cladded fingers on your skin still made your cheeks tinge pink.
“Do not apologize for that asshole—” Rafe cursed. “You hear me? Never apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”
His voice was soft but it was stern. It was genuine and kind— something that was a rarity for him. Something that only you got to experience.
You couldn’t help the sigh escaping from your mouth. You practically melted at his touch , falling into the palm of his hands.
“I don’t want to be the reason you and your dad fight.” You admitted. That knawing guilt back in the pit of your stomach.
You sounded so small. So sweet. It made an unfamiliar ache in Rafe’s chest— one that wasn’t bad , but more so yearning. Yearning to lean forward and kiss you. Wrap his arms around you and suffocate himself with the smell of your perfume.
“I don’t care.” Rafe then decided. “I love you.”
You sucked in a breath that resembled a gasp almost. Those three words that you had held onto. The three words that held so much but yet so little because you had felt it , too.
You weren’t oblivious and you knew that he did. But you hadn’t expected to hear it.
It was everything and nothing all at once. Peaceful and nerve racking at the same time. It meant so much. Left so many things in the future to worry about and mewl over.
You were a lover girl at heart. The way he had spoke it. His lips that were always snarling , biting back the cruel comments to others to hide the fact he was hurting inside had now released the sweetest of sounds , kindest words that squeezed the beating organ in your chest just right.
Bubbling , Rafe brought his hand around your neck to lean you forward. Brushing a kiss to your mouth , resting his forehead on yours.
He knew that you were it for him. And if souls could get tangled with one another and become the same— then his had with you.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.
Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.
Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!
Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.
It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.
Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.
It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.
But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.
One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.
Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.
"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.
"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.
She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.
"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."
"I'm not paying for your meal."
"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"
She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."
Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.
She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.
She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.
As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.
Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.
"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.
"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."
She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."
Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."
"I can do it if you-"
"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."
Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"
"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.
Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.
Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.
Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.
What had alarmed Dani so much?
"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."
Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."
She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.
He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.
A small victory.
Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.
"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."
"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."
"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.
To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.
Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.
He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"
Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)
Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."
The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.
"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."
"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.
Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face
"Bruce?"
"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."
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charliemwrites · 4 months
Text
Post-nap warm up
(Edit: still not canon; sorry guys! This is more of an au to the au)
You wake up, as you do most days now, to two warm bodies sandwiching yours. Johnny on your left, practically curled around you with his big head on your chest, lightly snoring. On your right, with his body stretched along yours and chin on your head, is Ghost.
You had originally settled on Phantom, but in the course of calling him silly nicknames, you realized he responds to “Ghost” better.
You yawn, stretch as carefully as you can. Both dogs groan and huff. Johnny tries to snuggle in harder, while Ghost sits up with a drawn out sigh.
“Cmon, big baby,” you coo at Johnny’s sad eyes, smoothing your thumb in the silky fur between them, “it’s time to get up.”
He relents only when Ghost shoves his nose under Johnny’s chin and starts nudging him up. You chuckle as Johnny goes out of his way to sneeze on him, earning him a grumble. They two of them shake off while you sit up and stretch, adjusting your skewed tank top to hide your breasts.
The boys follow you into the bathroom for your morning pee, then into the kitchen while Johnny starts chugging from the water bowl while Ghost stations himself next to one of the cabinets, watching you futz with the coffeemaker.
You drop scratches on his head every time you pass, smiling a bit when he licks your palm in return. As your coffee in brewing, you pause to kneel in front of him, dropping kisses all over his face.
“You’ve been doing so well, honey bun,” you murmur, laying your cheek on his head. “I’m so proud. Such a good boy.”
He licks your neck - the only part of you he can reach without dislodging you. For as big and rough as he can be (especially with Johnny) Ghost has been oddly gentle with you since the beginning.
Oh, sure. He can be loud and grumbly - even showed you his teeth once. But he’s never snapped at you, knocked you over, or even really stepped on you while snuggling in. It’s incredibly endearing and you’re sure to encourage him every chance you get.
“I love you, ghost,” you croon as you pull away.
His ears go forward, then back, then forward again. You grin, drop one last kiss on his nose.
“I do,” you continue laughing, “you’re my big shy baby and I love you.”
He huffs. Johnny comes in then, barrels right into you with tail wagging, whining as he nuzzles up under your chin.
“I love you too, John Bon,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. “My precious snuggle bug.”
He makes a little “ruff” noise that you like to imagine is agreement. You give him one last kiss as well before standing to make your coffee.
They pile onto the couch with you for morning shows, then follow you around the house as you do chores. Around midday you make yourself a little lunch and then say the magic words.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
Johnny is instantly bouncing and barking, causing a fuss. Ghost wags, plumed tail sweeping conservatively side to side. You have to wrestle Johnny into his harness, muttering at him under your breath the entire way.
Ghost isn’t much better. Getting him accustomed to the harness has been a work in progress. Apparently he’s not food or play motivated, so training him to even tolerate it has been a challenge. The first two or three times you nearly had to chase him down (thought you were going to get bit one or twice) and even needed Johnny to help.
It’s been better lately, though - even if you have to negotiate him coming over to get strapped in. The black and silver gear is gorgeous on his cream colored fur and you’re sure to tell him that as you clip him in.
Once the boys are geared up, you finish dressing yourself and then open the back door. Ghost charges ahead as usual, ears forward and eyes sharp. Johnny splits off, weaving amongst the trees but returning to your side every couple minutes.
You hit the usual hiking trail with both boys, humming to yourself as they orbit around you. They never stray far, always checking your position and circling back to get a check-in scritch.
Maybe half an hour passes before both boys, currently flanking you, suddenly go alert. You pause, watching their bodies tense, ears forward, eyes focused somewhere ahead, mouths closed.
Ghost barks low and rough. And then they bolt.
You curse, knowing they wouldn’t leave your side for just anything, and hurry to follow.
When you finally catch up, your boys have cornered two men on separate sides of a clearing. They’re crouched low, tense, snarling and growling like thunder.
And there, cowering in the center of the clearing, is perhaps the biggest dog you’ve ever seen. You take in the big stick on the ground, the scattered rocks - nearly gag when you see a couple drops of blood.
Fury burns through you.
“What the hell did you do?!” you shout.
“Call your fuckin’ dogs off!” one of them shouts.
“Fuck off,” you snap in return, Ghost barking roughly with you.
You tug your phone from your pocket. When one of them sees, he starts towards you, only for Johnny to snap viciously at his hand, even drawing blood. He shouts and grabs at his hand, going pale. The other one starts yelling, but you ignore him, knowing your boys will keep them in line.
You dial the police, explain the situation and give your location. While you wait, you turn your attention to the lump of fur in the middle of the forest.
You creep slowly closer, positioning yourself where he can see you coming. The dog’s ears are pinned flat to their skull, mouth pulled tight in fear and pain, eyes squinted.
“Hi gorgeous,” you murmur. An answering whine breaks your heart. “Oh honey, I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay now. I’m here. We’ll keep you safe.”
You inch closer and closer. Stop whenever they twitch like they’re going to run. You dig into a pocket of your coat and extract a treat, gently toss it close to their nose. A twitch, a wet-eyed blink, and then they finally seem to come to life, carefully sniffing at your offering.
“Good baby,” you coo, “so brave.”
The police arrive quicker than you expect, and the dog curls up tight again while you explain the situation. Johnny and Ghost are reluctant to be called off, but a sharp word has them back at your side while the two men are arrested for suspected animal cruelty.
You assure them that you’ll take care of the injured dog - Johnny and Ghost sat like guards at your sides. Once it’s just you and the pups, you turn back to the poor injured dog.
“I know that was scary, sweetie. It’s okay now. No one’s going to hurt you.”
The dog’s ears flick, listening but not trusting. You sigh softly, inch a bit closer.
“Johnny?” you call. “Come here, come see if you can help.”
Johnny turns, follows your pointing. He sniffs at the other dog, licks their ears and forehead, coaxing them out of their tight, terrified curl. You guide Johnny down to his stomach, putting them at similar levels.
On your other side, Ghost leans into your side, watching with those too-sharp, too-intelligent eyes.
As the injured dog slowly starts to unwind, you offer your hand, let them sniff carefully at your palm and wrist.
“There we go,” you soothe as a nervous tongue flicks over your skin. “You’re doing so well, darling.”
Johnny starts wiggling with excitement, nudging at the other dog and whining quietly. Ghost joins, nosing gently at the other dog’s side until they finally shift and start crawling closer to you.
You stare at the size of their paws - nearly bigger than your own palm. They scoot closer and closer until nearly in your lap, snout inching beneath your shirt to press against your stomach.
You smooth your hand over their head, waiting until you see their tail wagging slow and cautious.
“Good baby,” you whisper. “You wanna come home with me, pretty baby?”
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i-cant-sing · 5 months
Note
Yandere batfam with a sick reader?
Yes but sick reader who is still defiant because hello, they kidnapped you?????
Reader is just glaring at them with tired eyes and a red nose as they once again tuck her under the covers, Dick is highly worried as he frets over you like a mama hen because he did have a heart attack when he caught you standing in front of your open window, where "harsh" gusts of cold air were "attacking your fragile form", so of course, he had to drag you in and wrap his arms around you, rub his cheek against you because he NEEDS to warm you immediately, lest you die of hypothermia.
Yes, Dick overreacts. And yes, Damian will accompany his brother in his delusions, or well, take any chance he gets to scold you.
"You should be in bed, Y/n." Damian said sternly, his eyes narrowed because how dare you worry his favourite brother like this. "Didn't Dick tell you to rest? Are you that incapable of following simple commands?"
You narrowed your eyes back at him, opening your mouth to say something mean but got cut off by your own coughing fit, making Dick rush to help you drink some water, rubbing your back along it. Your throat felt scractchy, and it hurt to speak, but you still wanted to convey your feelings so-
You flipped him off. For a nano second, because Dick immediately grabbed your hand and tucked it back under the covers while Damian's eyes widened at you disrespect, but before he could make any more gremlin noises, but Bruce walked in and Damian knew better than to complain to him about you when youre already sick, cause Bruce wouldve still favoured you.
"Y/n? How do you feel now?" Bruce asked, his voice gentle as he walked closer to where Dick was throwing away your mountain of tissues.
"Im fine. I wanna go out-" "No." "And why not?" "Because youre sick." "You may be Batman, but youre not a doctor!" "I am your father though."
No, youre not. You wanted to say, but knew that would only piss him off and you need to be on his good side if you want Dick and the others to be off your back so that you can escape.
"Whats her temperature?" Bruce asked Dick, who put a thermometer in your mouth quickly. Dick sighed as he told Bruce how you were out of bed and standing in your balcony in the cold just moments ago.
Bruce placed a palm over your forehead, and you tried to move away but there wasnt really any space or energy for you to do that. Bruce's eyes shifted the slightest bit at your burning forehead. "Why do you insist on getting out of bed and sleeping on the floor? Ive already had to pick you up 3 times in the past 2 days."
You pulled out the thermometer and glared at him. "Im fine. Its just sniffles." Bruce's lip quirked a little. You looked absolutely adorable in your delirious state, like an angry kitten.
"I dont think its just sniffles this time. And-" Bruce pulled the thermometer from your hands that you were hiding under the covers. "-dont hide the thermometer from me." His eyes scanned it and the twitch in his brow was enough for Dick to know that the number was too high.
Bruce then eyed the cough syrup next to your side table- its still full.
"Why havent you been taking your medicine?"
"Im not sick-"
"White paint has more color than you do right now. So why havent you been taking the medicine?" Bruce asked and even though he was a little annoyed, he had enough practice dealing with the other kid's rebellious phases to have the patience of a saint.
You shrugged. "How do I know its just cough syrup and not a sedative?" "It is a sedative too. Its supposed to make you sleepy." "Well, I dont wanna sleep and let my guard down in a house full of 5 strange men." You obviously never counted Alfred- hes the only normal one here- except for the part that he wont call the cops for you, but oh well.
Bruce just casted a look to Dick and before you knew it, Dick was pinching your nostrils close and titling your head up while Bruce grabbed the syrup and poured some in your mouth before clamping his hand over it. You struggled to break free, but you were obviously no match to them. Still, tears of frustration pricked your eyes as you looked at them in betrayal and hatred.
"Drink this and dont argue with me, please." Bruce said- well, he genuinely requested at this point.
You didnt have much of a choice other than swallowing it.
With a defiant glare, you begin closing your eyes as your body gave into the effects of the drug, the last thing that you felt were Bruce kissing your forehead while Dick pecked your cheek.
Jason finally decides to drop by the Wayne manor, only to be greeted with the sight of reader lying on the kitchen floor. His heart stopped for a moment- you werent breathing-
"Y/n!" He rushed to your side, only to be smacked in the face by you.
"Shush. Dont be too loud." Your voice sounded like sandpaper against rocks.
Jason huffed. "Well, sorry for freaking out. I thought you were dead-"
"From a cough? Im not weak."
"Yeah? So, what exactly are you doing on the cold floor in the middle of the night?"
"..."
"Well?"
"What? So I cant even take a nap in this house? Jesus Christ, am I allowed to have any autonomy here?"
"Y/n." Jason called, clearly unamused by your sarcasm.
"Fine. I may have fallen and then didnt have the energy to get up, so im just catching my breath here."
"Why are you even out of bed?"
"I was hungry and Im not gonna drink another spoon of Alfred's bland soup again." Alfred made it bland on purpose so that your throat wouldnt be irritated.
"Please stop wasting whats left of your voice on complaints of the soup that you cant even taste." Jason chuckled as he picked you up, only for you to push at his chest weakly.
"I dont need your help. I can walk on my own."
Jason quirked a brow. "If you can make it to the front door without fainting or throwing up, I'll help you escape." You stared at the front door- it wasnt too far, but judging by the fact that its even hard for you to breathe properly and that youve fainted way too many times by just standing for more than a couple of minutes.
But youre stubborn. With great effort, you pushed yourself off Jason and used the kitchen island to pull yourself up. Jason decided to walk in front of you and stand near the kitchen exit because he really wanted to see your struggling face.
You took a trembling step, then another, one hand still using the support of the island until it ended and you were only a couple of feet away from Jason. At this point, you were already out of breath and when you took another step, your legs gave out and the room began spinning.
Luckily, Jason was quick to react. "Alright, just place your arm around mine- or just fall on me, that works too." He teased when you couldnt hold your body weight.
You slumped in his arms. "Just take me to my room." You huffed.
"Alright." Jason lifted your legs up and carried you back up the stairs. "You know you'd get better a lot faster if you just stayed in bed and took your medicine on time. Wouldnt that make your chances of escaping the manor better?"
You stared at him blankly. "Wow. The world must be ending for Jason Todd to be making logical suggestions."
Jason rolled his eyes as he tucked you in bed. "Im just saying, if you get better faster, you'll get to try running from us quicker too."
How do you explain to him that you just dont want to comply to them, even when they're helping you. How do you explain that you dont wanna listen to them because the soft pitiful, patronising look they get in their eyes when they look at you makes you wanna scream and carve your skin out. These are strangers, rich men who just kidnapped you to be a part of their family. No one is that kind. And nothing ever comes for free. Nothing.
"Do you need something? Food, perhaps?" Jason asked. You shook your head. "No, I think Im gonna throw up."
"Oh shit." Jason was hauling his ass out of the room t get you a bucket, only to return with a backpack.
You barely held your puke as you asked. "Wait- whose is this?"
"I dont know!? Damian's?!"
You grinned. "Oh, perfect." You proceeded to throw up into Damian's bag. That little shit just got on your nerves.
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BONUS:
"I know you have attachment issues with your blanket but its been a couple of days now and you need to let me wash it." Dick said, trying to tug it out of your grip.
You sniffled and glared. "Im not a child who needs their blankie, Dick. Im just too cold without it and no other blanket can warm me up the same way it does."
"Give the blankie, Y/n." Dick said seriously.
"Its not a blankie." You retorted, but before you could react, Tim suddenly grabbed you while Dick ripped away the blanket. And even though he immediately replaces it with a clean blanket, you still let out a gut wrenching cry
"You'll have it back tomorrow-" Tim starts saying, only for you to sneeze directly in his face, making him freeze.
"And that's why we use tissues." Dick says, wiping both your nose and Tim's face with tissues, while you're not making any effort to suppress the grin that comes on your lips.
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Text
Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.
He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:
“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”
Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.
Which is saying a lot.
Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.
Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.
The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.
Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 
Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.
And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.
The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.
That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 
He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 
“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”
“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 
Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.
He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”
“Saying what?”
“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 
“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”
“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”
Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.
“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 
No. “Kinda?”
Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…
Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.
He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.
“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”
Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.
“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”
Well shit.
Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”
“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.
But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.
“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”
Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 
They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.
“Hey, Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”
Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.
“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”
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azsazz · 5 months
Text
The Magic Number
Kinktober Day 28: Hockey Player!Azriel, Rhysand, & Cassian x Reader [Overstimulation]
Summary: Req from godsend @vellichor01 : For the hockey idea, I love the idea of Azris or poly!batboys using you 😏😏 as their good luck charm the night before the championship game
Warnings: Smut, oral (both f and m receiving), use of toys (vibrator), fingering, anal, double penetration, foursome.
Word Count: 5,258
Notes: I'm having one of those moments...
_________________________________________
“C’mon, you know how this goes,” Cassian drawls, stroking a thumb across your cheek. His words are soft, kind, but the heat swallowing the color of his eyes is anything but. It makes your cunt pulse. “Been our lucky charm all this season, can’t break the streak now, can we, baby?”
You hum, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Excitement stirs your gut as you stare up at the three, large hockey players taking up the expanse of your tiny living room. Azriel leans against the door they’d just come through, his hazel gaze pinned on you. Rhys is perched on the edge of your desk, arms crossed over his chest, looking every bit as serious as the captain of the hockey team should be. And Cass stands before you, his stature demanding and hot. They make you ache to your very core. “What’s in it for me?” You tease, batting your lashes.
“I can promise you at least three earth-shattering orgasms,” Cassian responds, pointing from Rhys to Azriel, then to himself.
Your face contorts, nose scrunching at his words. “Only three?”
Cassian’s eyes glitter. “Think you can handle more?”
You tilt your chin up in defiance. You know you can handle more. Have spent weekends locked away with them, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you until you’d lost count, had been nothing but a sobbing, shaking, wet mess beneath their lips and fingertips.
“I just don’t know if that’s enough anymore, boys,” you sigh dramatically, pulling your chin from his grasp. “You get all of this luck and I get to be sore for days? How is that fair?” You’re lying, and they know you’re lying. You’re not just terrible at it, but you love being sore for days, feeling where their cocks have abused your cunt with each step you take. You love the marks that their needy, manhandling hands leave on your skin, the bruises from their teeth and lips. You bite your own, shoving that thought from your mind.
“What do you want then, darling?” Rhys purrs, pushing himself from the desk to make his way closer. Azriel follows on an unspoken command, until they flank Cassian’s sides. They loom over you like Gods, and you have to crane your neck back to peer up at them from your spot on the couch. Fuck, they look absolutely stunning. How you’ve managed to bag the three star players of the hockey team, you’ll never know. Rhys’ voice takes on a huskeir note, violet eyes simmering with molten desire as he continues, “Want to tie us up and take what’s yours? Want to watch us fuck each other? All we need from you is one orgasm each, darling, and we’ll win the championship game tomorrow, I know it.”
His words make you shiver. Is that what you want? To be in charge for the night? You’d been doing this with them for the entire season, but the thought had never crossed your mind. You’re usually too cock drunk to form a coherent thought.
But the way that they tower over you, looking down at you as if you’ve changed their entire world, makes your stomach flip. They’ve always taken care of you, all three of them, and it’s more than nice, being guided into positions that put your pleasure first. They know you better than you know yourself. Sexually, they know you inside and out. They are the epitome of men right now, burly and large and oh so fucking irresistible. It makes you want to open your mouth and part your legs, let them have your way with you.
You just might.
You look from Rhysand to Cassian, Cassian to Azriel. They’re fresh from practice, hair damp from showers at the rink, tight shirts stretched across broad shoulders with the exception of Cassian, he would never wear a piece of clothing again if he had the choice, and comfortable gray sweats hang low around their waists like they know what it does to you. 
Godsdamn what it does to you.
“Come on, baby,” Cassian all but whines when you don’t respond. “What can we do to convince you this is for the good of the team?”
Nothing. They don’t have to do a damn thing to convince you of this, because you know. Somehow, the three hockey players you’ve found yourself fucking this season decided that you were their lucky charm, having won each and every game after they’d shared you. It’s something of a pre-game tradition now.
But it’s still fun to tease.
“I don’t know,” you coo, leaning back in your seat. You slip your toes between Cassian’s wide stance and prop your feet on the coffee table behind him. “I think that Tarquin on the Sea Lion's is pretty goo—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Azriel growls, eyes so dark it makes your thighs quiver.
“What if, this time,” Rhysand leans down, planting his hands on either side of the couch, trapping you. His sultry voice awakens goosebumps on your skin, his breath hot in his ear as he leans down, lips brushing the shell. “We stuff you with our cum, then shove a little plug up that tight little cunt of yours to secure our luck. You’d like that darling, wouldn’t you? To be stuffed with us until after the game? Keeping you nice and full?”
You nearly bite through your lip holding in a moan. Your head threatens to teeter back on your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull as a full shiver wracks your body in the best way. Holy fuck do you love it when they talk dirty to you, planting new ideas in your head, things beyond your wildest dreams.
Cassian’s adding, watching you struggle with a smirk. “When we win, I’ll eat it out of you.”
“Isn't showing up to the game enough?” you ask innocently, thighs pressed so tightly together they’re shaking with effort. But you’re being strong. There’s still room to play with them.
“No,” they all answer in unison. 
It’s Azriel who takes a gentler approach. It’s a little surprising. He’s normally the quietest of the three, saving soft spoken endearments for when it’s just the both of you or when the other two have fallen into post-orgasm cat naps. 
He kneels before you, hands brushing up your bare legs in what is supposed to be a soothing manner, but the motion only makes you hotter. Wetter. He’s looking at you with sincerity, like he might actually believe that you’re going to refuse them.
As if that would ever happen.
“What do you want, love?” he asks, so gently it nearly makes your heart crack. The strokes of his thumbs on your skin match his tone, tender. 
“I want you to kiss me, Az.”
He can do that. He spreads your legs to slip between, using his grip on the meat of your thighs to pull you closer. You’re the same height as him, sitting on the couch as he is kneeling, and you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers burying deep into those dark locks. His touch wanders to your face, caressing your jaw before pulling you into a slow, sensual kiss.
Your body bursts with pleasure. His tongue strokes softly against your own as he parts your lips. It’s a tentative motion, but becomes more sure when you whimper softly into his mouth. Azriel’s fingers grip loosely to the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer to him. So close, that you can feel the erratic pounding of his beating heart pressed against your own.
You can feel Cassian and Rhysand’s heated gazes on the both of you. It feels all too good, having their attention like this. Knowing that with the slightest of moves on your part, they’ll all be harder than stone. It eggs you on, kiss going from slow and steady, an exploration of each other’s mouths, to something hotter, rougher. Azriel sucks on your tongue and nips at your lips. Your fingers tug at his hair as your spine lengthens, pressing yourself closer to his chest.
Kissing Azriel is like being shrouded in shadow. He consumes you, body and soul. It’s the best kind of kiss, one that calms you when you’re anxious, a strong and steady presence. You can lose yourself for days in the taste of his lips, the feeling of his sure posture against yours.
Cassian takes hold of you quickly, inserting himself into the kiss you and Azriel find yourselves lost in. You make a noise of surprise. Having both of them licking into your mouth is no easy feat, but somehow, the men seem to know exactly what to do, as if they’re as in-synch now as they are on the ice.
Slowly, Azriel edges himself away from the kiss. He pries your fingertips from himself, no matter how much he loves the way you cling to him. He places them on Cassian’s shoulders, where you curl them harshly into his tanned skin and force him closer.
Kissing Cassian ignites a fire in your soul. It’s passionate, brash, and full of love. There is no doubt in your mind that this man was made for you, to walk through that fire for you, to reach your innermost self. He’s a warrior on and off the ice, in love and in life. He will fight for you no matter what, and you love him for it.
It’s always fun having Cassian like this, all needy and hot. His cock is swollen against the loose fabric of his sweatpants, and you can tell he’s not wearing underwear when you grind your hips against his, drawing a guttural moan from his lips. You drink it down greedily, keening in response. You’re getting just as desperate now, needing to feel their cocks in your cunt, filling you up with their cum until you’re so full you could burst.
But Rhysand is untangling you from Cassian with a look that leaves no room to argue. You’re panting, staring up at Cassian with a wildness that says this isn’t over. He grins, the sharps of his canines glinting in the lamp light. 
“Go, get ready,” Rhys orders the other two, and you cling to him as he lifts you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he strides towards the door. 
Instead of walking through it, he’s pressing you into the wall next to it, dipping down to devour your mouth in one fell swoop. 
Kissing Rhys makes you feel like a Queen. He’s demanding, showing you exactly what he wants. It makes you want to submit, fall to your knees and please him as he sees fit. It’s reassurance and confidence and pleasure in its finest form. He makes you feel like you’re on top of the world, like your soul belongs to something more. You would bow for him, and he for you.
He hooks his knee up, settling your weight onto it as his fingers find the hem of your shirt. His mouth is a distraction for his hands, gliding the fabric up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a fleeting moment before he’s grabbing you again and plastering your front to his chest  as he strides towards your room.
You’re lost in the way his tongue dances with yours. You love to hear his words, silky and playful, skilled with years of business classes, his backup if hockey doesn’t work out someday.
Rhys places you on the bed, breaking the kiss, but before you can even whimper your displeasure, Cassian’s boxing you in, fitting himself between your legs as you slide backwards. He follows like a hungry lion, devouring you with his gaze.
“Enjoyed that, didn’t you, darling?” Rhys grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes are wide, but you can’t remove them from Cassian’s wolfish grin as he prowls towards you, backing you into the headboard. “But look what Cassian’s got for you.”
“First, you’ll cum on my toy, then on Az’s fingers, and then on Rhys’ tongue,” Cassian presses his words into your mouth, rolling his hips against yours. It makes you cling to him desperately, and he smirks against your lips. You lick over his straight teeth, tasting his tease. He parts himself from you, sucking at the sensitive skin between your jaw and ear. His tone is low, filled with desire and gravel that scratches the right parts of you when he continues. “And then, when you’re crying and begging, maybe we’ll give you our cocks. If you think you can handle it.”
Your body wracks with a shiver so violent Cassian’s façade falters. If it weren’t for your reassuring hand clawing across his bare shoulders, he would’ve asked you if you were alright. 
So the charade continues. You want to fight back, want to push them to the edge like they are you, because if they’re going to insist on fucking you for the good of their game, no matter how badly you want it, you’re going to make them work for it. You don’t hand out this kind of luck without some effort.
“Maybe I won’t give you my cunt at all,” you pant, chest rising and falling against Cassian’s. It feels like he’s crushing you, body pressed firmly to your own. You can hear Rhysand digging around in your drawer, looking for the pastel colored vibrator you have stuffed away. Azriel watches you with a heated gaze that sharpens at your words, pinning you to the bed just as effortless as Cassian is. “Maybe the sex after a loss is better than after a win.”
 Azriel all but growls, taking the chance to climb up on the bed with you and Cassian. You remove one of the hands you have buried in Cassian’s thick locks, reaching out to touch Azriel. You want them all, love when all of their attention is on you like this. Your thighs try to clench but Cassian’s hips pin them wide and he gently rocks into you, nipping at the skin around your bra strap before taking it between his teeth and pulling it from your shoulder. 
You rest your palm against Azriel’s cheek when he’s near enough, and though his serious gaze doesn’t soften, he leans into your touch, pressing kisses to your palm. “Baby, I think we both know that isn’t true.”
Gods, does he make you melt. They all do, stripping down and baring themselves to you. Each one of them is tall, tan, and muscular. They are Gods kneeling before you, worshiping you in every way.
You want that to start now.
As if reading your mind, Rhys places the pastel wand into Cassian’s awaiting grip. His grin turns into something feral as he rips your panties from your legs, fingers curling between you and the mattress to unhook your bra. 
Azriel takes over, hands palming at your breasts as he moves the clothing. Cassian clicks the vibrator on and your legs want to close in response. You’re so fucking wet you know that you’re glistening for them, and with the speed at which Cassian sets your little toy, you won’t last very long, especially when the other two crowd around you and all three men stare down at you like you’re something worth devouring.
“Is it true?” Cass asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer, pressing the buzzing toy to your already throbbing clit when you begin to speak. Your words sizzle into a moan, your body arching into the vibrations, hips wriggling as you chase the feeling it’s stirring in your gut. Az and Rhys hold you down, and they all watch in pleasure as Cassian plays with you. “You think losing sex is better?”
Normally, he’s all fun and games, built for edging you until you take control and sit yourself on his cock, but today, with the taunts in the air and the looming game at the back of their minds, he’s more eager to draw as many orgasms from you as he can. He needs to stuff you so full of his cum, right down until the minute he dares step foot on the ice for the championship game. He needs to see you in the crowd, hardly able to sit because your cunt is that sore, cheering them on with their cum still leaking out of you.
“N—No,” you manage to get out, but you hardly know what you’re babbling about. You cling to Rhys and Az, who mouth at your breasts as you writhe, pinning your arms to the bed. Your back arches as Cass finds that spot, the vibrator stimulating your clit with such an intensity, heat rushes to your core like a dam breaking. “Cass, ah—please baby, yeah, yeah, right there!” 
“Right here?” He asks, and dread fills your body. You know that voice, and you chase the orgasm as fast as you can before he— “Or down here?” You cry out in frustration as he moves the wand lower, a buzz dulling as he slicks it against your opening. 
“Az,” you whine, because you need more than just the toy. They’ve fucked you relentless, ruined everything for you, and now it’s no longer enough, not even when they’re away from you. “Need your fingers. Please!” You cry out when Cassian returns the vibrator to your clit, holding you still as you writhe.
He doesn’t hesitate, cock straining away from his body. He’d been ready for you since he awoke this morning, but practice had taken precedence before he could find his way to your apartment to fuck the bones from your body. He’s the most superstitious of the three, and not even your teasing he takes lightly. 
But he’s conditioned to need you, more than he needs his shooting hand before game days. He doesn’t know how or when this started, but he’s not complaining. He loves it, in fact, thinking about you all wet like this when he’s in the thick of the game, when he’s thinking about starting a fight or stuck in the penalty box. He’s also the most worried about it all, taking many nights pulling you aside to talk about the arrangement. To make sure you feel loved instead of used. To show you how much you mean to him. 
So, he doesn’t play around when he puts those skilled hands to work, plunging one into your cunt, then two because the first slides in easily. You cry out when he curls them, the shadow of a smile curving his lips in the most beautiful way.
“Hey,” Cassian pouts, “It doesn’t count as three if you and I are both doing it.” 
Azriel doesn’t look away from you, watching as you come undone from the incessant buzzing and him stroking the bundle of nerves inside of you. He wants you to break his skin with your nails, burst his eardrums with your screams, drown him in your cum. “Then make it two.” 
Cassian’s hazel eyes glint and he’s turning the setting higher. 
“Rhys, down on the bed,” Azriel demands after your second, earth-shattering orgasm. The captain of the hockey team does just that. You shiver at Azriel’s words. He’s usually quiet, but when he takes over in the bedroom not one of you strays from his commands, his low voice making those words even sexier. He kisses you softly, helping mauver your body so you’re straddling Rhysand’s face. “Cass, head of the bed, legs open.” He turns back to you, hazel gaze pinning you in place as Rhysnad’s rough hands begging trailing patterns across your thighs. Your cunt nearly drools on him, and your muscles tremble with the effort to keep yourself from sinking down onto that tongue of his. “Baby, I want to see you suck Cassian off while you ride Rhys’ face. You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty girl?”
You keen, falling into his touch around your throat. You need to kiss him, need to sink yourself down and feel the ridges of Rhys’ tongue, his nose digging into your clit. You need to taste the precum beading at Cassian’s ruddy tip, taunting you. You need to feel Azriel’s mouth on yours first, though.
He allows you one kiss. It’s slow and sensual on his side, desperate on your part. He doesn’t allow you to turn up the heat, keeping you pinned in place as Rhys guides your hips down. You squeak against Azriel’s lips at the first touch of Rhysand’s tongue, already grinding your hips against his eager mouth. 
Azriel’s fingers slide from your throat, gathering the hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, he guides you down to Cassian’s cock. It’s wet, leaking against his tight abs as he pins his hands behind his head, watching you with fire in his eyes. 
You steady yourself with hands on his thick thighs. Your body is already convulsing with pleasure, three orgasms and a handful more to go is what you’d been promised, but as Rhysand grazes his teeth across your sensitive clit, you cry out, hot breath fanning across Cassian’s cock. It twitches as he flexes. 
“You’re okay, baby,” Azriel coos, fisting Cassian’s cock, helping you steady yourself so you can take it into your mouth. Rhys’ pace is unhurried, but it still makes pleasure blind your gaze, eyes prickling with sensitivity. “C’mon, be a good girl and take his cock.”
You feel nearly boneless already, hardly able to hold yourself up as Azriel escorts Cassian’s throbbing cock into your mouth. You lick his slit and he hisses, head banging against the headboard as you suckle at his tip. His musk bursts across your tongue, heady and strong and utterly Cassian. You can’t help but moan, licking around the head, dragging down the silken skin as Azriel presses you onto it. All the way until he’s hitting the back of your throat.
“Relax, baby,” Azriel whispers, planting soothing kisses to your shoulders. It’s almost overwhelming how all three of them can be so gentle right now, when they’re finally getting what they need. Your need for them is overwhelming. You can see it now how well they work as a team, impeccable both on and off the ice. 
You love it. 
Your jaw falls slack at his soft words, and he’s pushing your head down, Cassian’s cock stretching your throat. Both men groan at the sight, and Cassian’s fingers find your cheek, caressing your face.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that,” Cassian praises, and you whimper in pleasure. Rhysand swirls his tongue and nips at your clit and you’re seeing stars, body wracking hot with the onslaught of an orgasm.
Cassian bucks and you choke, but you love it. They make you feel so full, even though your cunt aches with the need. You know you’ll get it soon enough. 
Azriel leaves you in Cassian’s care while he settles himself behind you. You can no longer see him, but he dips down, spreading your cheeks to lap at your hole. You startle and moan languidly at the sensation, melting into the three of them further.
You can hear him spit, and then his finger is breaching your ass. 
“Relax,” he murmurs again, curling his body around your own. The heat of his chest to your back is comforting, and you try your best to uncurl your muscles. “That’s it, just like that baby. Gooood girl.” His finger drags against your walls and you shiver, rocking back against the sting until he’s three fingers in and you’re moaning wanton around Cassian’s cock. 
You cry when Azriel removes his fingers, but he’s pressing up to his knees and slicking his cock between your sopping wet cunt and Rhysand’s tongue. Oh, that feels fucking incredible, your sensitive clit burns at the heat of his cock, cunt quivering from the three orgasms already.
“I don’t know if I can,” you whimper sliding off of Cassian’s cock with a cry. Tears stream down your face and Cassian’s brushing them away softly, swiping his thumb across your lips to clear the string of saliva away. Azriel’s teasing your entrance, holding your hips steady as Rhysand shuffles up the bed, his own leaking cock brushing against your cunt. You’d collapse on top of him if it weren’t for Azriel holding you up.
Rhys takes your face in hand, kissing you firmly, proudly, sharing the taste of you with him. He’s showing you how wet you are for them, how good you’re being, but you still make a noise when the tip of his cock brushes against your throbbing clit. “You can do it, baby,” he reassures, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Want to fill our darling girl with our cum. You want that, too, don’t you?” 
Fuck, you do. You really, truly do. You want to taste it, feel it, bathe in it until there’s no question in their minds that you aren’t theirs. Some day, this lucky streak might end, but until then, you want to be stuffed with them, feel their heat inside of you, filling every part of you to the brim. You want to swim in them, and them in you. You need it like ice needs the cold, like the Velaris Bats need a championship. 
“Yes,” you find yourself clawing at his muscles, drawing Cassian nearer by his cock as Azriel’s head slips into your ass. You groan, body sucking him in as you stare into the depths of Rhysand’s violet eyes.
The three of them consume you, and you, them. Once Azriel works himself in with a grunt, hips settled against yours, Rhys is nudging his cock into your dripping cunt. Your breathing goes a little ragged, but his lips are on your neck and you use that and Cassian’s cock as a distraction from the stretch.
They give you as long as you need to adjust, hands all over your body you can hardly focus on one thing. Why do that when there are so many delicious things happening at once? Your hand wrapped around Cassian’s girth, jerking him up and down while you suck and spit on the head of his cock. He groans in approval. You begin rocking back on both Rhysand and Azriel, letting them know with your loud noises that you’re more than ready for their cocks. Rhys’ mouth is attached to your breasts while Azriel’s sticks his fingers around your torso to flick at your clit.
Rhys and Azriel go from moving in synch to fucking into you, opposite in pace. Rhys pulls out while Azriel pushes in, one of them always filling you. It’s great, both of their cocks hot and heavy inside of your tight, wet holes. You shiver when their heads bump into each other through your walls, moaning around Cassian’s cock.
“Fuck, baby,” Azriel says, brushing the hair back from your shoulder. His movements are quickening, and heat rushes through you once again, your body bucking between theirs, following that feeling off of the edge. “Just like that.”
They fuck you through it, until you can hear the wet slaps of their hips against yours again, until your blackened vision clears, your movements lazy and slow as you grip Cassian’s cock like it’s the only thing holding you to this existence. 
“I’m almost there,” Rhys hisses, and he and Azriel are moving in time again, both of them pressing into you so deeply you can’t even breathe. They’re filling you up, hitting all of the right spots, and you can’t help the stream of tears and cries that fall from your lips. You might cum again, you think, as Cassian slides down to comfort you with his soft lips against your skin. 
“I’m cumming baby, f-fuck, yeah, I’m cumming pretty girl,” Azriel groans, pistoning his hips faster. The grip he has on your cheeks is biting, spreading them wide for his viewing pleasure as his strokes turn jerky. “Godsdamn, baby, I’m a lucky man.”
You body clenches and Rhysand chokes, following his friend. He holds you tightly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he fucks him cum deep into your womb. “Holy fuck, darling. Fucking made for us,” he grunts. The erratic pressing of their cocks filling your holes has you cumming again, milking you of another orgasm. 
“Fuuuuck,” Cassian mutters in awe as you blink through tears to look up at him. His hand caresses your jaw and he looks utterly destroyed by you and he hasn’t even gotten his chance yet. “Four orgasms? What a good girl, giving us all that.” 
You whimper, nuzzling into his touch as Azriel pulls slowly out of your ass. You cry out, grip going firm where you clutch to Rhysand’s shoulders, missing the loss of him already. But Az is kissing up your spine, scooping the cum already leaking from your hole only to stuff it back inside of you, swirling his fingers through the thick, white cum. 
“One more baby,” Rhysand coos, pressing kisses to your wet cheeks. You don’t think you can move even, you can hardly even keep your eyes open right now or your breathing controlled, allowing the three of them to manhandle you onto Cassian’s broad chest. 
You collapse against him, cum leaking from both your cunt and your ass, getting his hips and thighs all messy with it. But he loves it, loves holding you to his chest like this, looking down at you as you snuggle into him like you could fall asleep in bliss in a matter of breaths.
“Let me give you my cum,” he whispers into your hair and your body trembles with his words. You’re utterly spent, but your body needs his cum mixing with the others just as badly as they need the win. 
You nod against his chest, stroking a lazy hand down his torso. “Be gentle with me.”
He is. Cassian holds you close, rocking his hips in a steady, soft motion while you cling to him. He seems to be in no rush, but your cunt aches with every drag of his large cock, and you start writhing against him, a little uncomfortable but not yet willing to force him to stop. 
The others’ cum helps slick the way, and Cassian’s soothing words kissed to your forehead keep you somewhat calm. He lets you dig your fingers into his skin as hard as you need to, especially when his grip spans across your hips, pinning you to him so he can fuck into you as he chases his orgasm.
“Doing so well for me, baby. Gonna fill you up and get you all cleaned up with the others,” he murmurs, and it’s then you notice he’s silently asked Rhys and Az to leave. The shower is going in the attached bathroom. You can hear the cap of the body wash opening. “We’re going to take such good care of you, baby, for all those orgasms you gave us.” 
You sigh in response, much too tired to muster words. You tilt Cassian’s head down for a soft kiss instead, and then he’s panting against your mouth and fucking into you as he cums, swallowing your tender whimpers and moans.
“There we go, baby,” he coos, keeping his cock shoved in that pretty cunt because he knows you like that. He strokes your hair, letting you loll with the rhythm of his chest. “Helping us win the championship. Our little lucky charm.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl
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satuguro · 1 year
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⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION
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lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader
#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.
#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff
#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx
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your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.
you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.
which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).
"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.
"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.
"i gave up."
"you need to study."
"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.
"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.
"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.
"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.
your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."
ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.
"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.
"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"
"just now? instead of studying?"
"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).
"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"
you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.
it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.
you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.
"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.
"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"
chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."
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you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.
you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.
but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.
three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.
"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"
"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"
"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."
you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."
"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."
"i'm not gonna be that drunk."
that was a lie.
to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.
"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.
"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.
"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"
the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"
"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.
"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"
when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.
jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.
chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.
"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.
"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."
"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.
and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.
"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.
"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.
but nothing came out.
“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.
“do i have to?”
“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”
“i don’t want to.”
“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.
“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”
“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”
“are you sure?”
“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”
“maybe.”
“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”
“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.
ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.
“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.
“can i make a joke?”
“of course you can.”
“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”
“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.
ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.
you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.
he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.
"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”
and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.
the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"
"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."
"liar."
"i'm not!"
"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"
ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.
"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."
ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.
"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,” ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.
“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”
confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.
“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”
“ethan—”
“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”
“i love you.”
“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.
“i love you, ethan.”
a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.
“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.
“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”
“do you think i care?”
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