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#i think they can destroy each other with one touch or word
yawnderu · 5 months
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Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I
1 2 3 4 5
Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.
''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.
''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.
''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.
''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.
''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.
''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.
''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.
''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.
''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.
''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.
''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.
[NEXT]
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sweetiecutie · 6 months
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Part five: strap on 🩷 Kinktober Masterlist 🩷
Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, strap on, overstimulation, mommy kink, lesbians in love
- Aw, what’s the matter hermosa? Is it too much for you to take? - Valeria tutted at your squealing, her fingers gripping your thighs even harder, blunt nails leaving bright semi-circles on your skin. Her hips snapped hard against yours, 7 inch strap burying deep inside your raw pussy, silicone tip of was nudging your poor cervix, causing a small bulge to appear on your tummy.
- Can’t… Can’t take more mommy, - you whined, writhing in her tight grip. She’s been at it for hours, holding your legs opened wide, fucking you into a babbling senseless mess, wringing one orgasm out of you after another. Your whole body shook with intensity of pleasure, toes curling every time Valeria shoved all of her length in your sopping cunt, your juices covering her lower stomach, causing bronze skin glisten wetly.
- It’s up to me wether you can take more or not, - her stern voice boomed, dominant tone she uttered these words with made your cunny clench desperately around thick shaft, eyes rolling back into your skull as it grazed all the sweetest spots inside of you repeatedly. - Look at you, so pretty on mommy’s strap. You’ve been thinking about this whole day, haven’t you? Sending me those photos like a needy little bitch, just wanting me to destroy you completely.
You only managed to nod your head, too cockdrunk to form a coherent sentence. You did feel needy, thinking that sending Valeria a few nudes in that sexy new set you got recently was a good idea. Well, it worked all too well - her bending you over first flat surface in your house seconds after finally getting back home, nimble fingers scissoring your drooling pussy open before fucking her biggest strap inside of your greedy warmth, making you purr and squeal under your wife’s rough touch.
Valeria reached for your tits, grabbing a handful of soft pudge, cruel fingers twisting your nipple out, mixing slight pain into concoction of pleasure, turning your brain into thoughtless mush. Her other had was busy bullying your swollen clit, each swipe of calloused fingertip against exposed tip sent electric shocks running up and down your spine, setting your nerves alight. Your back arched off soft mattress, hands gripping onto now messy sheets, needing something to hold onto.
- Fuck, mami, gonna cum! Can I please cum? Please… - you wailed, a heavy feeling setting in the pit of your stomach, thick strap ramming in and out of you along with Valeria’s relentless abuse on your clit drew you closer to your orgasm. Your eyes watered with tears of pleasure as you gazed up at Garza, a smug smirk curled her lips as black eyes studied your every smallest feature intently.
- Yes, you can cum, - she said finally, her voice a bit breathy from exertion with which she was fucking you. And with that a dam broke - thick pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, subduing all the colors and sounds around, only leaving place for pure euphoria to ripple through your veins.
Valeria fucked you through your high, prolonging it as much as she could, trying to burn your precious expression in her brain, sexy sounds of your release made her heart beat faster with excitement. As you slowly came back to your senses a satisfied grin made its way onto your flushed face; you puckered out your lips indicating that you wanted a kiss, in which Valeria gladly indulged.
There really wasn’t anything else Valeria needed - all she has ever longed for was here, laying underneath her and giggling at her in post-coital giddiness, causing Garza’s cold soldier heart to skip a beat at intensity of her adoration for you.
But well, maybe pulling one more orgasm out of you would make Valeria even happier?
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4kafka · 2 years
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— THE HANDMAIDEN.
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In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the Harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.
⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ f!reader. undertones of yandere. unprotected sex. power play. a hint of dark content so be wary! further warnings are written on each character’s part! not proofread.
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PIERRO + breeding kink. lots of cum. unprotected.
it was the jester who first deemed a handmaiden like you worthy of attention. from simply picking you out in the throng of retainers in zapolyarny palace to exchanging curt greetings whenever you serve him tea, your existence slowly took shape in his mind. it was but a mere dot until he molded it into something bigger than yourself: he offered you status in exchange for fucking your pussy raw.
whenever pierro ruts into you ruthlessly, you think of it as his personal goal. the goal of needing to puff up your cunt with his fresh cum once his cock and balls begin to swell. pierro folds you in positions that give him access to your womb, where he dumps fat amount of cum after fat amount of cum. doing so much as pinning his balls to your folds and plugging your hole with his sheer size, pierro is adamant about not spilling a drop. and when your pussy does leak, he takes it upon himself to stuff you with another load double the amount of what you spilled.
some nights while you lay on his chest and with courage flickering like an ember in your heart, the urge to ask him why tips your tongue. but before your curiosity could materialize into verbal words, you would be reminded of where he truly hailed and what the circumstances are of said land. perhaps pierro fucks you with a need to get you pregnant as one way to spread his khaenri’ahn blood.
CAPITANO + womb fucking. in new york’s voice i know his dick big— i know it. size kink.
capitano thinks of you as a battlefield. in truth, you are nothing of the sort. not a wasteland of bodies emitting miasma putrid enough to destroy one’s stomach. it took him weeks chewing over the irony before surmising that his enticement has everything to do with his lusting for blood and annihilation. in his eyes, you are a battlefield he must conquer. unlike pierro who has given you status, capitano offered you strength in exchange for your little puffy pussy taking his huge cock.
don’t be scared, he’d whisper, it’ll fit. pressed against your stomach, no cock of such girth and length could ever fit in someone’s cunt. you feel so little in his arms, extremely so whenever you work your body down his whole length. and once he’s fully sheathed inside, with his fat crown pushing right into your womb and veins thick enough to stimulate, you shiver and sob. capitano is deep in your guts and he knows it, always drawing gentle circles on your back to allay the sting of having stretched your pussy out and to soothe the enfeebling sensation of his cock tip kissing your womb each gentle thrust.
many stories surround him, most of which are bone-chilling. they say capitano is the harbinger of death, and that hiding behind his mask is the skewed face of a monster hell spat out. you admit to believing the hearsay once, but calloused is his skin might be, you have never been touched by hands so gentle. consider it clemency, since you must not forget: capitano can easily break you if he so does will it himself.
DOTTORE + exhibitionism. voyeurism. creampie.
in zapolyarny palace, the name dottore typically sparks caution in the hearts of many. christened as the doctor, he is the paradox of warmth normally seen in someone in the field of medicine. you have done all that you could to be stationed somewhere else other than in his laboratory, but a handmaiden’s fate is as pliant as clay in the hands of those with power. therefore, when he offered you wisdom, all you could do was give him the same. wisdom that is through letting dottore’s segments completely fuck you witless in front of him.
he likes observing your face contorting with lewdness. watching drool racing down your chin, tits bouncing as one of his segments drills his cock into you from the back. there’s nothing more gratifying than biting your lips with your eyes rolling heavenward while your pussy sucks in cock after cock. he enjoys the sounds you make but loves popping his cock down your throat when your screams become too noisy for his liking. but when you come undone by having been fucked until your legs are shaking with thick amounts of cum spilling from your cunt, dottore finds himself admiring nothing else but the image before him.
he wouldn’t have thought that his sexual fantasies could be sated without venturing out to the nearest brothel. for that, he bestows you a chance to ask him two questions every time he fucks you. it is a deal sealed months ago that has benefited both parties involved. and dottore loves to keep things as it is. he’d continue doing so as long as you wouldn’t ask questions at the cost of your precious, precious life. it does not matter how much dottore adores you, he would never think twice.
PANTALONE + predator and prey dynamics. dubious content. nasty. he rubs your asshole. i’m sorry i was so horny while writing his part. creampie. drool. unprotected.
possessing mora enough to buy a whole region makes a man forthright in his intentions, be it pure or soiled with nothing but personal gain. because in the face of money, even the most deviant minds and sickest of hearts appear gilded. you have been proven of the warped reality when letters from your family burst forth in your chamber. each parchment contains fervent gratitude for a name that turned your blood gelid. mr. pantalone is a very kind man, indeed. please do not forget to thank him for the year’s worth of food he supplied us.
the first time you thanked him, pantalone fucked your pussy until the hole was gaping, as though asking for more. he completely owned you: mind, body, and soul. he pistoled his cock deep in your guts for hours, with his eyes rolling back to his skull and his cheeks tinted pink. at one point he almost cried overstimulating his cock tip by kissing your cervix and squirting bouts of cum in your womb. you’ve found out that he particularly prefers when you bounce on his thick shaft, squelching him dry while he gropes your tits and licks your nipples until his mouth is spilling out saliva. sometimes he would rub your asshole as you come around his cock, because he revels whenever your pussy pulses around his girth to milk his balls sapped of cum.
as a man with unparalleled wealth, pantalone sure likes to count. he’s skilled at keeping scores, striking a line on your inner thigh with a glaring ink for every round where he leaves your cunt cum-filled. with each line equivalent to ten million mora. you’d enter pantalone’s chamber every week as a handmaiden, then come out a wealthy one— albeit powerless. regardless of how blinding mora is, it must not hide the truth from you: pantalone, the richest man of all, can take your opulence just as easily as he gave it.
CHILDE + mindbreak. protected sex. condom used. childe is feral. drool.
childe, the 11th of the harbingers, is appreciated by many if not all. an unusual sight in zapolyarny palace, yet the warmest one. he is a glorious warrior, especially when wielding his weapon. a sight worthy of awe, for he moves with precision and speed that are not of this world. owning aberrant strength, childe is meant for blood and glory. and he evinces it all by providing you security whenever you prove just how formidable of a harbinger he is behind closed doors.
drool on the pillows, hands barely hanging on to the sheets, with your mind spinning after hours and hours of childe drilling his cock into you until your stomach flattens on the bed. he pounds your pussy vehemently, shifting positions every time to abuse your sensitive spots. feet over his shoulders, knees against your chest, missionary, name it all. he’ll fuck you in ten different positions each night to break your sanity. and every time he slides his cock out of your wet cunt with his fat and heavy cum pulling the rubber down his twitching shaft, he ties the condom around your legs as proof of his strength.
what makes a warrior is his stamina, and childe would do anything to prove that he’s a formidable one. be it through fighting or fucking, he has yet to fail in either of those aspects. he has dominated you more than once. it is you who willingly walked in on his life like a vulnerable mouse sauntering to a viper’s maw. you have no one else but yourself to blame for the venom in your veins.
SCARAMOUCHE + voyeurism. perv!scaramouche.
scaramouche is his name and he’s the most enigmatic of all. some whispers say that it is merely a moniker to conceal his identity. to bury his past, to birth him anew. vexed with more than half of the zapolyarny palace, the quiet places and shadows are his companions. you think he hates you, too, for none could be spared from scaramouche’s temper. but unlike everyone else, he has found something quite entertaining in you. regardless of its nature, you have not exactly been favored by the harbinger. he remains truthful to his ill temper no matter the circumstances.
when you part your thighs before him, shaking fingers while playing with your pulsing clit, the way he stares burns at your skin. there is humor in his eyes. as though the way you pump two fingers in your wet and untouched cunt serves as peak amusement for him. perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. scaramouche has mastered the schooling of his expressions, sticking only to that of pure malice even if he has you bared before him. he loves commanding you to touch your cunt with your legs extended wide, or pinch and rub on your clit until you’re shaking at where you sit. sometimes he’d tease and tug at your nipples, but he has never gone further than that. and you fear that he never will.
brewing between you is one crooked relationship. scaramouche has not any need for you other than to satisfy his odd fantasies. he has been forthright from the beginning about his intentions, saying that he merely wants to see for himself what’s so special about a handmaiden like you that has the other harbingers on their knees. all his provocations hold with them a promise, and that perhaps one day, scaramouche will try and seek out the answers for himself. but that day is not today.
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star-sim · 6 days
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too sweet ☆ jay park
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☆ bad boy! jay x nerd! fem! reader ☆ summary: after months of an on-and-off relationship with you, jay feared that he'd hurt you. you know that he won't. maybe a few sweet words (and kisses) could convince him. ☆ genre: angst to fluff, suggestive, inexperienced! reader (-ish), jay is really really really DOWN BAD, insecurities ☆ warning(s)? n/a ☆ word count: 2.0k words ☆ everyone clap for hozier’s “too sweet," for my starved jay stans
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!
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"So, you're telling me that you want us to end?"
Jay sucked in a sharp breath, clasping his hands together. "That's not what I mean."
You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him. The thin gold chain hanging around his neck kissed his honey gold skin deliciously, his silvery hair falling over his brows. You watched as Jay rubbed his knuckles, his jaw clenching with each thought that ran through his mind.
"Then what do you mean?"
If he thought that you'd ever let him go, he was insane.
Jay took a moment to think, before words tumbled from his lips in a slow drawl, as if he was afraid of them.
"We can't be together because I'll hurt you," he said simply. 
Jay watched your expression closely, eyeing your swollen lips— God, were they perfect, like always— as they curled. He could hear the cogs turning in your head, and for a second, Jay thought that he could win the fight.
You and Jay met under rather interesting circumstances. He was slacking in his classes, running the risk of not passing the semester, so the counselors stepped in and had you to help. 
At first, Jay thought you were the most insufferable snob there was. But the next thing he knew, he was pinning you against the wall, hungrily kissing you like he was a starved man and you were his salvation. There was always something so intoxicating about you, the way you were able to chide into his ear why he was failing his classes, yet stayed silent with wide, innocent eyes as his fingers squeezed your thighs. Jay longed for the way you could read him like a book, the way that your black pawns stacked up against him, cornering his white king that made it impossible to escape, all the while holding a polite smile on your face.
It was always unconventional; how could the school's most notorious slacker and shady delinquent even be in the same room as the smartest girl?
Everyone seemed to have something to say about it, and for a second, Jay couldn't help but drink up every word, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was his mind.
You were too good for him. You had everything laid out for you, you were just perfect. He wasn't. He was troubled, and stupid, and brash. 
He was mean and bitter, you were bright and sweet. 
So sweet.
Too sweet.
"You'll hurt me?" you scoffed again, looking at him incredulously. 
Under your critical gaze, Jay nearly faltered, as if this wasn't the millionth time that he reconsidered this entire conversation, as if he didn't crave your touch every waking second.
Just ten minutes ago, you were on top of him, your fingers tangled in his hair, ravaging his lips like they were your last meal. Knowing that he was the one that taught you that— how to devour him like a starved hyena— made him feel dizzy.
"When have you ever hurt me?" you pressed, your face pinched.
It was only when your delicate fingers began to unbutton his shirt, soft, but desperate, breaths brushing up against his collarbone, that Jay gently pushed you away, taking you off of his lap and letting you sit beside him on your bed.
"I haven't," Jay swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to ignore the nerves bundling in his stomach, gnawing at him, almost like they were screaming at him to stop. "But I can, a-and I know I will if we don't stop seeing each other."
"What makes you think that?" 
Jay chewed on his lip, thinking about his next move.
Loving you was like playing a game, a game where life and death were at stake. He was willing to roll every dice and destroy every odd if it meant being with you.
You were stone-faced, save for the questioning quirk of your eyebrows, but Jay knew better. 
The moment that the words "I think we should break up" left his lips, Jay could see your pawns retreating; he could see the way that your walls were beginning to come up again, the cage wrapped around your heart tightened, and all he wanted to do was hold you and apologize. 
But he couldn't, because this was for the best.
He'd rather hurt you once, than hurt you a million more times in the future. 
He was afraid of himself, of what his hands could do, of what tears you would shed over him.
He was fundamentally flawed, someone who could not be fixed. That was something that both you and him needed to accept.
"You know me," Jay murmured, his eyes glued to the fluffy carpet on the floor. He couldn't look you in the eye after this, after hurting you. "I'm not good for you."
You stayed silent for a few pulses, only the sound of your shaky breath filling Jay's ears. 
Then, you reached out for him. But, the moment that you soft fingers met his shoulder, Jay violently flinched away.
He knew that if he let you touch him, he'd never be able to pull away.
"Jay..." Your voice was small, and when he looked up to see your face, your brows were furrowed together. You looked hurt, and he wanted to punch himself; he wanted to melt into your warmth, feel your hands on his skin, and taste the paradise that was your lips.
You slowly retracted your hand, something that made Jay's heart ache. 
"Sorry..." he mumbled, quickly averting his gaze once again. After today, he didn't deserve to look at you.
Another few pulses pass in sheer silence, a silence so suffocating that Jay felt his throat tighten.
"Did it mean anything to you?" you finally asked shakily. 
"W-What?"
"Did anything that we did at least mean something to you?"
The word "yes" almost came spilling out of his mouth, eager to prove to you that he indeed loved you— loved you enough to save you. But, Jay stopped himself.
You would never take an explanation that didn't make sense. You'd push and push and push until you got the truth.
He couldn't draw this out any longer, or else he'd crack.
"No," Jay pushed out of his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste on his tongue. 
He heard you take in a breath, before you clicked your tongue. 
You didn't believe him, and you weren't going to take no for an answer.
"Tell me the truth," you murmured. "All those times we've kissed, why would you kiss me first if it meant nothing?"
He really couldn't do this, he couldn't lie to you.
"W-Well, it's because you're always close to me." Horrible explanation, and he knew it.
You cocked a brow. "No one’s forcing you to kiss me."
Jay gulped. You were reading him like a book, seeing right through him.
"Any man in my position would kiss you," he stammered, unaware that the way his nose scrunched gave him away. Jay's eyes glazed over you. God, you were just so beautiful. "I mean, look at you."
His ears burned with shame, blinking back hot tears that brimmed his eyes. He couldn't believe that he was actually doing this, purposefully lying to your face. He felt disgusting; weak. You were the first person that he's ever loved, the first person that made him feel all sorts of weird, giddy feelings, the first person that made him feel safe and loved. He was ruining it for himself, but he'd rather ruin himself than ruin you. After this, how was he ever going to recover? He couldn't imagine his life without you, not after feeling your warmth, not after having the privilege of seeing you beneath him, pretty eyes filled with stars gazing up at him—
If Jay wasn't so caught up in his head, he'd notice the way that you observed his flickering expression, before suddenly climbing back onto Jay.
"H-Hey—!"
You pushed Jay down onto the bed so that he was lying on his back, sitting right on his abdomen, pinning him down for good.
"You're a horrible liar," you muttered before grabbing his face, pressing sticky kisses against his jaw.
No, no, no! This isn't supposed to happen! You're supposed to hate him!
Your lips trailed from his jaw to the crook right below his ear, the spot that you knew was Jay's sensitive spot. You bit down just enough to make Jay let out a high-pitched sigh. You pulled away, admiring the purple-pink mark you left on his skin, before trailing down to the birthmark on his neck. You ran your tongue over the heart-shaped mark. Jay's hand jerked out for your waist, squeezing it.
"B-Baby..." he breathed, slipping back into his habit of using that name for you. His mind was doing everything in its power to resist you, but all he could do was tilt his head back to give you better access to his neck.
"Baby?" you purred against the shell of his ear. "Thought I didn't mean anything to you."
"I— Shit, don't do that, Baby—" you slid your hand under his shirt, your lips making vulgar noises as it attached to his honey skin. 
"I don't fucking care if you hurt me," you spat in his ear, and chills ran down his spine. Since when were you so... obscene? 
What has he done to you, for you to start off as an innocent and curious girl and end up shamelessly touching him? Had he corrupted you too much?
"You said you wanted to give me the best firsts?" your voice was so harsh, so mean that Jay almost questioned how someone so sweet could be so ruthless. It also made him question why in the hell it made his stomach do a flip. You bit down on a collarbone. "Then stop being a pussy and just let me love you."
Jay threw his head back, letting a groan escape his lips. God, how was he going to win this? How was he going to ignore the shudder of his shoulders as you touched him? How was he going to act like his body wasn't yearning for you?
"I'm pretty and you know it," you rasped in his ear. "So stop resisting me."
Your words were candied, sweet like syrup, seeping into his head and swaying all resolve he had. He almost gave in. Almost. 
"L-Look, I know you’re hot and all," it took every fiber in Jay's being to not give into your tantalizing lips, "B-But you know this is wrong."
You hummed against his skin. "But I don't."
Jay's rendered speechless when you press your hips against his, squeezing his eyes shut. His stomach did a flip, a wave of heat coursing through his body. It felt electric, it felt wrong.
"I don't know that this is wrong, and even if I did, I wouldn't care" your tone is so soft, so innocent, but your actions were so dirty. "Ignorance is bliss."
Jay opened his mouth to let more dumb words pour out, dumb words that were his final (and extremely futile) attempt to restrain himself, but his breath got caught in his throat when they ran your hands through his silver hair, gripping it and pulling it back. You held his head in place by his hair. The sensation of pain on his scalp was delicious, enough to make him feel like putty in the palm of your hands.
"If you don’t stop," his voice was airy and high-pitched now, labored breaths escaping his lips. He wasn't going to win this fight. He never was going to in the first place, not when you were his opponent, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
"Then don't," you said simply against his neck. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Your eyes were wide and shiny, innocently staring up at him. Your voice was so pretty and sweet, so sweet that he couldn't believe that you were doing and saying all these things to him. "Don't control yourself."
As Jay fell back into the comfort of the mattress, letting heat spread across his chest and face as you hungrily sunk your teeth into what was his heart, his Adam's apple bobbed.
You were too sweet for him, too sweet for a bitter person like him. 
He wouldn't mind getting tooth decay, yeah?
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES
warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.
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jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.
for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.
“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.
“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.
you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.
you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.
“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.
a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.
you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.
“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.
“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.
he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.
“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.
“fuck you.” he grumbles
“fuck you.” you hiss back.
done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.
intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,
jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.
“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.
“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.
“don’t. push. me.”
both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.
“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.
“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.
“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.
without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.
it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.
he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.
“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.
“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.
you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.
before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.
“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.
“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.
he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.
“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.
“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.
jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.
he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.
you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.
“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.
“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”
you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”
“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.
“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.
you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.
right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.
“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.
“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.
your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.
“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.
“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.
“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.
“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”
you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.
“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.
“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.
you smell so tempting and delicious.
your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.
jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.
“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.
you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.
pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.
“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.
“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.
hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.
“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.
hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.
tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.
your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—
“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.
“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”
“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…
“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”
“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.
“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.
your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.
“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.
tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.
“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.
you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.
he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.
“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”
right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.
if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.
“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.
too confused and trying to process what just happened.
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like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!
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zorobraun · 8 months
Text
ex husband ghost at your kiddo’s football game part three
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you want to die.
simon wants to die as well.
you both regret the night that theo told him about your wedding.
it’s been weeks. it’s been weeks that the two of you have been fighting over the stupidest things. the weather is cold and you sent theo to simon’s house without a sweatshirt? fight. simon brought theo back to your house ten minutes late? fight. you sneezed too loud in front of him? fight. simon rolled his eyes with something you said in front of you? fight. you’re both putting each other through hell. however, you’d rather have a stressful life with him, than live a peaceful life without him. you’d rather scream, fight, curse his name, than feel that excruciating distance between the two of you.
you’re both too worn out, though. you both know that one of you have to give in, let your guards down. you know he won’t do it. and that’s exactly why you’re standing in his doorstep, waiting for him to open the door. theo is at football practice, it’s already dark outside. it’s cold, just like simon’s gaze when he opens the door and stares at you. silence. silence. silence. “what are you doing here? theo is at football practice.” he says in a low, but secretly surprised tone. “i know my son’s schedule, thank you.” you reply in an annoyed one. simon sighs, gripping the door tightly with one hand, while the other runs through his hair. “it seems that you also know my schedule, since you’re bothering me during my day off of work.” he bites back mockingly, face serious.
“stop this madness, simon. i can’t take this anymore. we both can’t. we’re destroying each other, we both look like shit, look at us.” you point at yourself then at him. in his eyes, you look beautiful still. “we look exhausted. dark circles under our eyes, empty gaze, you’re still hitting the gym but i can tell you’re not eating enough. you’re too lean. i am too. so let’s just… stop.” you swallow hard, sighing. you look at the ground for a second, making simon lock his jaw, thinking about your statement. you’re right. but at the same time, he has this need to watch you tolerate it. just like he has been tolerating the fact that you’re marrying an idiot in three weeks.
“just tell me why you’re here, and i won’t put up another fight with you.” simon looks into your eyes. you know his eyes so well… you know they’re begging you to just say that you’re sorry for everything, and that you want him to take you back. that you regret replacing him. the funny thing is: you are sorry for everything. you want him to take you back. you regret replacing him. “i… i’m here because… i can’t hold back these words anymore. they’ve been stuck in my throat for so long now…” you swallow hard, your desperate voice matching his desperate eyes. simon keeps looking at you, analyzing your every move, your beautiful necklace — the one that he gave you in your last birthday, when the two of you were still together.
oh, simon knows you miss him. you miss his fingertips brushing over the back of your neck when he used to put this same necklace on you. he knows it. there’s no way you don’t miss him. he keeps repeating this thought over and over again, as if he’s trying to convince himself that he’s right. simon licks his lips, feeling out of his mind. “what are you waiting for? speak up.” he breaks the awkward silence with a surprisingly calm tone. you’re both looking into each other’s eyes, and the eye contact hurts. it hurts, until you look away from him to stare at the ground. you swallow hard, your hands shaking a bit. simon wants to put his fake hatred for you aside and just hug you tightly, to break your hesitation in tiny little pieces.
then, you look up at him to meet his eyes. you lick your lips nervously, placing your hand on the back of his neck. you kiss him. and nothing could’ve ever prepared simon to this unexpected kiss. he grabs your arm with his gentle touch, pulling away from you after a second or two, even though he was reluctant about it. he opens his eyes, his shallow breathing making little noise. simon clears his throat, jaw clenching from anxiety. “don’t.” he whispers, eyes locked with yours. god, he missed this. he missed the feeling of your soft, warm lips against his. he missed your sweet taste. your cheeks get red from embarrassment. what were you thinking, anyway? that he would kiss you back after everything that happened? you sigh heavily, shaking your head.
“i…” simon cuts you off with a kiss. you widen your eyes at first, getting caught off guard. he pulls you close by the hips, kissing you so slowly but so passionately. you kiss him back with the same affection. you kiss him back until you’re both breathless against each other’s lips. simon breaks the kiss to lean his forehead against yours, eyes closed, heavy breathing. “i broke up with him.” you break the silence, your voice is low and a bit breathy. simon pulls slightly away from you to make sure he heard it right, since your kiss got him too lightheaded. he’s looking into your eyes to find any hint of joke or lie. but you just keep looking at him with lovesick eyes, and suddenly he hates to love you so fucking much.
“how long have you been single?” simon asks in a serious tone, pretending to be nonchalant. his hand leaving your waist so he can focus on this conversation instead of your curves. “a month.” you sigh quietly, crossing your arms. he frowns slightly, making you look at the ground. “what? why didn’t you say a word?” simon’s tone is a but frustrated now. you look at him with a sad smile. you touch his arm. “c-can i come in?” you ask, squeezing his arm gently. he swallows hard, taking a step back to give you space to come in. he closes the door, leaning his back against it with crossed arms, waiting for you to start talking about something. anything. maybe an explanation. you turn your back to face him, standing in front of him, from a small distance. you swallow hard.
“i didn’t say a word because i didn’t want you to think that i broke up with him just because you said all of those things to me. i didn’t want you to feel guilty about it, because i know you would. you’re too kind-hearted.” you sigh with a sad smile, staring right into his eyes. simon clenches his jaw, his breathing growing a bit erratic. “i broke up with him because our relationship was a lie, and i was the liar.” you add, feeling a bit uncomfortable to say it out loud. truth really hurts. simon doesn’t move, feeling a bit nervous about this subject as well. something tells him that this conversation is about to get worse.
simon is staring at you as if he’s waiting for you to keep talking, since he vowed to not beg for your love anymore. you lick your lips nervously. “the reason why i asked for a divorce…” you start, making him swallow hard with the delicate topic. “was because i loved you way too much.” you look into his eyes before looking down to search for some courage. simon sighs impatiently with your unserious statement. “wait, simon. i’ll elaborate.” you say in a defensive tone, taking a step closer to him.
“remember when my mom died, right? so, when my mom died, i died too. i couldn’t see mysef getting over her death. meanwhile, we were also having a hard time in our marriage because i was so fucking depressed, we were fighting too much, i was treating you like shit, i wasn’t being a good mother to theo… i was just making the two of you suffer, basically.” you start tearing up, making simon let his guard down, too. you can feel his heart softening again. and it gives you strength, somehow. “and i’m so fucking sorry about everything. i… i hated myself for so long.” you admit it, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice. simon is looking at you with so much empathy in his eyes. so much love.
“i know that’s not an excuse, but i was young, immature, i didn’t know how to handle that situation. i was lost, and i felt so done with everything. you knew that, too. regardless of you being by my side always, telling me that it was okay, that we would get through that tough moment together, i felt guilty. i couldn’t accept the fact that i put the person i loved the most through hell during months and months. you did everything and more to help me, but i didn’t want to be helped, because i found comfort in depression, somehow. i didn’t want you to think that all of your efforts didn’t matter, because they did matter. but i was the problem. i was the only one holding me down. so then, i made the worst and hardest decision of my life��” you pause, looking at the ground for a second. “i asked for a divorce because you didn’t deserve to go through all of that. i thought i didn’t deserve you, and i really didn’t, back then.” you look into his eyes, a few tears running down your cheeks as he takes a step closer to you.
simon is speechless when he pulls you into a tight, comforting hug. he’s tearing up because he remembers everything — he remembers how hard it was for both of you. even for theo, regardless of simon’s efforts to separate his son of the marriage’s mess. it’s fair to say that he tried his best to be strong for his family, specially for you. “love, you can’t just carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and think that it’s okay.” simon mutters, stroking your back gently. “you shouldn’t have felt guilty for anything, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, anyway.” he says in a low tone, placing a kiss on your forehead. he stares at you, holding your face on his hands. “why didn’t you say anything? you’ve kept it all to yourself all along, angel…” simon smiles sadly, in disbelief. “you’re stronger than you think, but you’re also an idiot.” he adds with a soft chuckle, kissing your nose. you chuckle quietly, too.
“it was so hard for me to open up about it… the last thing i wanted was to make you feel like you or your self-sacrifices weren’t enough. god knows i wouldn’t even be alive today if it wasn’t for you and theo.” you sob quietly, your tears wetting simon’s hands. he pulls you into another tight hug. “you gave me the two greatest gifts of my entire life, simon… our son and an opportunity to love you.” you place a sweet, grateful kiss on his neck. simon’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with your words. “your love keeps me gentle. your love listens with patience and empathy. thank you for asking ‘what do you need?’ or ‘how can i help you?’, and saying ‘we’re in this together’ instead of running away. thank you for staying, even when you didn’t have reasons to. i’m so, so sorry for pushing you away, baby.” you add in a low, shaky voice. your arms are still wrapped around his neck as you both feel each other’s heartbeats.
simon smiles softly, stroking your hair. “sweetheart… i will stay when it’s scary, when it’s hard, when we don’t see eye-to-eye. on all our good days and bad days, i’ll choose to love you, always. we’ll learn from each other, just like we always have.” he pulls slightly away from the hug to kiss your tears away. you nod with a soft smile, caressing the back of his neck. “simon, i just need to hear you say that you forgive me. i’m not even asking you to take me back or try to give us a chance of starting over again, even though i could wait for you and respect your time patiently. that is, if you still want me, by any chance. i would never pressure you, if you think it’s too soon…” you sound too desperate, too messy, too in love, and it’s embarrassing.
simon places one reassuring kiss on your lips and one daring kiss on your forehead. he sighs quietly, looking down at you. “i forgive you, even though you did nothing wrong.” simon caresses your cheek with his thumb. you shake your head, chuckling quietly. “and soon?” he holds back a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “do you even know how often i’ve wished to have you near me again?” simon puts a stray of hair behind your ear, staring at you with soft bright eyes. “i still want you in such a desperate way that i could just drive to the church we married and do my vows all over again, with empty seats and without the priest.” he holds your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. he takes your hand to his lips to place a kiss on the top of it and on your palm. “i love you, idiot. i’m crazy about you, you know that.” simon smirks, grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a gentle kiss.
you don’t really know how to explain it, but kissing simon feels like a breath of fresh air. like something you’ll always need at the end of the day. like warm sweet tea during winter or sunday mornings in bed. you’ve missed this more than you could ever explain. he’s so special to you. “i love you more, but you won’t believe that.” you whisper jokingly against his lips, making him smile before breaking the kiss. he kisses your neck. “of course i won’t. my love for you… just reached neptune. maybe even a little bit further, to be honest.” he mutters playfully next to your ear, placing one last kiss on the soft, warm skin of your neck, breathing you in. “oh, is that so?” you raise an eyebrow, staring at him with a smile. “then… my love for you just exceeded the whole solar system.” you joke back, making him chuckle with a frown.
“since when we’re into astronomy?” simon laughs, realizing just now how random this whole cheesy interaction was. you shrug, laughing too. “all i know is that i’m into you since the day we met.” you wink playfully with a smirk. “you’re lucky i’ve been under your spell for years, otherwise you’d be single by now.” simon teases you with a laugh, picking you up from the floor as you wrap your legs around his waist. you kiss him between smiles and quiet laughs, your arms wrapped around him in a cozy hug, while you lay your face on the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “just so you know… you’ve never stopped being my love, even when i was with him. i’ve always been yours. my heart too.” you say next to his ear, in the same comfortable position. he carries you as if you were weightless.
“you know i feel the same. you’re so precious to me, love.” simon smiles softly before kissing your cheek. “god, ms. riley, i’m sorry if i’m being too forward, but… you’re so gorgeous.” he smirks while he lays you down on his bed, placing both of his hands on each side of your head to stay above you. “such a perfect body…” he glances down your body, biting his lip. “and i’ve missed you so much…” simon whispers next to your ear, kissing the area under it, nibbling on your earlobe. you sigh heavily with the tingling sensation, wrapping one leg around his waist. you kiss and lick his neck, leaving a few love bites on him. simon can’t help but press himself against you, kissing your lips until you’re needy enough to try to kiss him again when he pulls away. “you have fifteen minutes until we leave to pick theo up at his football practice.” you breathe out, staring into his lustful eyes. it sounds like a dare, and he’s not a man to back out.
“you know i only need seven minutes inside, sweetness.” he says in a low, cocky tone. you swallow hard when he leans down to get closer to your face, his lips almost touching yours. “but it’s been so long since the last time i fucked you, that you might be done in five.” simon’s voice is low and breathy, and he has a half smirk on his lips, almost as if he’s mocking you. well, it’s been so long since the last time you had him like this, that you had forgotten how talkative and dirty-mouthed your husband is during sex.
two months later…
you take a deep breath when you finish throwing up for the second time this morning. you frown in pain, placing your hand on your sensitive stomach. you brush your teeth again, staring at yourself in the bathroom’s mirror. you look beautiful and healthy, but your body feels too sore, specially your breasts, you can’t even breathe normally without wanting to throw up. and most importantly, your period is late. you hold back a smile when you realize that you’re pregnant. you’re a mother, so you know your pregnancy symptoms by personal experience. you bought a pregnancy test yesterday, because you were already suspecting it.
you do the test without thinking twice. now you’re waiting patiently for the result. your hands are shaking a bit, you lick your lips nervously. a few more seconds and you see the result: positive. you widen your eyes, smiling like an idiot. you want to scream and shout, but you can’t — you want to surprise simon, since he always dreamt about having more kids with you. your heart is beating so fast, you’re so happy, it’s overwhelming, even. you already know how to surprise him, it’s fair to say that you’ve been wanting this more than your husband. however, the surprise will have to wait until you find out if the baby is a girl or a boy.
you’re too anxious to wait, though, so you look at the result again. it says that you’ve been pregnant for more than three weeks, so it’s possible to know the baby’s sex if you’re at least eight weeks pregnant. you sigh quietly, excited. you’ve just decided that you’re going to the doctor right now, counting on your lucky stars. you also need to talk to theo about the surprise, since it involves flowers and the family’s tradition of buying you flowers every sunday — you never got tired of them, somehow. going to the floriculture at sundays was theo’s favorite hobby when his parents were still together. now that you and simon got back together, theo is more than excited to finally buy you flowers again, today, a warm sunday.
“love, what the fuck are you doing in there? it’s been ten hours.” simon says in a joking tone as he knocks at the bathroom door. you quickly clean the test and hide it on the back of the drawer. you open the door with an innocent smile, staring at a sleepy simon who’s wearing nothing but black sweatpants. “oh my god, you really can’t stay a minute without me, can you?” you tease your husband, crossing your arms against your chest, trying your best to hide the euphoria. simon sighs with a chuckle. “i was just worried. are you okay? you look pale.” he stares at your face with a certain concern, placing a kiss on your temple. he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you gently to his chest, comforting you. the action makes you forget about the sickness for a few minutes.
“i’m okay.” you reply with a soft smile, caressing his arm. all you want to do is kiss him and tell him that he’s going to be a father again, but you need to control yourself. “do you need something? a glass of water, maybe?” he’s still worried about you, gently brushing some hair off your face with his fingers. “no, babe. i need to go to the grocery store, though.” you lie, smiling genuinely at him. simon frowns, chuckling. “okay? out of a sudden?” he keeps laughing quietly, glancing at you. “yes. don’t worry, i’ll be back quickly.” you kiss his cheek before walking towards your wardrobe to start getting ready to go to the doctor. “oh, you’re in a hurry, love.” simon raises an eyebrow, looking at you from afar with an awkward smile on his lips. “do you want me to go with you?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair lazily.
“there’s no need to. i’ll just buy a few things, but thank you. wait for me, okay? we’re going to the floriculture today, theo is driving me crazy about it.” you look at him briefly with a smile. simon nods, smiling back at you. “y-yeah, sure.” he replies, still finding your behavior a bit weird, but it’s fine. you grab your purse and walk towards simon to kiss him goodbye. he kisses you back, smiling softly as he watches you leave the bedroom.
before leaving the house, you go to theo’s bedroom to tell him about the news, alongside with your plan to surprise simon. “mom! congratulations! i-i’m so happy, i’ll take care of her or him, i promise!” theo gives you a surprised smile, hugging you tightly. “i know you will.” you smile, kissing the top of his head. “just don’t tell your father, baby. deal?” you smile at him, stroking his hair. “yes, of course. then i’ll have to choose only pink flowers or blue flowers, right?” theo needs your reassurance, smiling. “exactly, my love. okay, see you later! i’m in a rush, i’m sorry.” you squeeze his hand gently. he nods, excited. you chuckle quietly before leaving the house for good.
(…)
you’re holding a gorgeous bouquet of flowers in all shades of pink, with a small card on top of it. you and theo can’t seem to stop smiling, and simon notices it — this extreme happiness. he doesn’t say a thing, though. he feels the same, so it’s probably normal. your family is finally back together, he couldn’t ask for anything more. simon’s hand is on your thigh as he drives back home, brushing his thumb against your soft skin. you place your hand above his, squeezing it gently. theo is on the backseat, smiling and daydreaming about his little sister. he’s so happy. it’s almost like he feels complete now, with his other half being generated inside you.
when the three of you get home, you walk towards the table, holding theo’s hand. simon is on his phone as you both look at him with a quiet laugh. “dad, come help us with the flowers. we need to put them on the vase.” theo tries to not sound suspicious as he grins like the happiest person in the world. simon raises an eyebrow with a chuckle. “alright, alright.” he mutters with a soft smile, walking towards the two of you. simon starts taking the flowers out of the bouquet while you and theo puts them in the vase. “what is this?” simon frowns curiously, taking the pink card between his fingers. “what, babe?” you fake confusion, staring at him. theo is already smiling when simon opens the small card.
‘congratulations, girl dad!’
simon’s eyes widen as his mouth opens in surprise. he looks at you, then at theo, then at you again. “shut up, y/n.” he mutters with a shaky voice, still too shocked to move. you start tearing up while you laugh softly, nodding. theo watches his parents in silence, happiness plastered all over his face. simon chuckles in disbelief as the card falls from his fingers. his smile grows bigger as he picks you up in an excited hug, making you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist with a happy chuckle. simon squeezes you against him carefully, just enough to not hurt you. he places sweet kisses all over your face before speaking. “do you have any ideia of how happy i am right now? my heart is about to explode, love. thank you so much for making me the happiest man alive.” simon’s gaze softens with a genuine smile, making you kiss him again.
he stands you up to carry theo. simon hugs his son so tightly that the kid feels like being smashed, making the three of you laugh. “you have a sister now, buddy!” simon chuckles in excitement, kissing theo’s forehead. “i’m so happy, dad. i’ll be her hero!” he replies, hugging simon’s neck again. you wipe your happy tears away to wrap your arms around them both. just like a family hug should be. “that’s right, you’ll look after her and i’ll look after the three of you.” simon smiles softly at him before kissing your temple. you stroke his back gently, kissing theo’s cheek. this is pure happiness. it feels like you’ve been dreaming about this for a long time now.
“the three of you are my purpose.” you say, smiling softly, stroking both of their faces with bright eyes. simon starts tearing up from joy, from the feeling of an enormous sensation of being complete. you feel the same, he can tell by the way you’re crying again, just like the time you discovered about theo’s pregnancy. you always get too emotional and he doesn’t blame you at all. simon laughs softly, stroking your hair to comfort you. “i’m sorry!” you laugh too, fanning yourself to try to stop crying. “it’s just that… i’ve never been happier.” you add in all honesty, taking a deep breath. simon’s heart just melted completely.
he puts theo back on the ground to cup your face and give you a sweet kiss on the lips, to show you how much you and the kids will always be safe and live well under his responsibility. simon strokes your belly gently, before crouching in front of you, with theo by his side. they’re both admiring your belly, even though it’s not that grown yet. “i can’t believe i’ll have the privilege to have a mini you running around the house with theo. our little princess will be so cute, love.” simon looks up at you with an infatuated chuckle, placing a sweet kiss on your belly. you laugh softly, caressing his hair. “now we have a mini simon and a mini me.” you smile wholeheartedly. he grins while standing up, his hand placed on your belly.
“give me a daughter with your delicate beautiful face, your enchanting smile, your dark-bright eyes, your stubborn heart and your even temper…” he smiles, giving you another kiss. you wrap your arm around him to feel him closer to you. “…so that even when we’re gone, the world will find within her all of the reasons why i loved you.” he places a sweet kiss on your shoulder before kissing you quickly again. “everything feels better when shared with you.” simon whispers against your lips, pulling you impossibly closer by the waist. you both smile.
so this is it — you got your happy ending, after all. your heart is completely full. this overwhelming love was meant to be. it was meant to be shared with simon, and simon only. you’re drowning in the purest form of love and happiness and you don’t want to see the surface ever again. with simon, theo and mia by your side, you intend to stay that way.
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sunnymoonxx · 10 months
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red eyes, fangs and talons | miguel o'hara × fem!reader
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summary: After another session with Miles, you're left with Miguel filled with anger and frustration. And only you know how to ease him up.
warnings; this is just pure filth, read at your own risk, degradation, unprotected p in v, oral (m receive), vulgar language, kinda voyeurism? if you close your eyes, praise, fangs, talons, talking about being "used," mentions of blood, bondage, angry sex
author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Also, the Spanish xd. I studied Spanish for a while, but it's no better than google translate, I tried my best xd.
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"No puedo más, no puedo más," you heard a voice mumbling after the room cleared out, leaving only you, Jess, and Miguel. For the past two hours, you and Miguel have been trying to explain to the new recruit, Miles Morales, how the canons work and how they can not be changed. It obviously took a number in Miguel. He covered his face in his hands, back crouched, holding himself back to not break another innocent machine. You and Jess stood silently, glaring at each other, too scared to say anything. At moments like this, even Jess questioned her choices in life.
You decided to risk it and step forward towards Miguel, who still kept whispering something to himself. You were just a few steps behind him when he turned around, his eyes glowing red, facing you.
"Jess, don't take your eyes off Morales," he demanded, not taking his eyes off you. He towered over you, his hair a mess, eyes dark red, and fangs visible over his lips. He was animalistic. And it wasn't the first time you saw him like this. "Make sure he stays here."
"Copy that," Jess responded without hesitation. The next thing you hear is her motorcycle starting, leaving you alone with Miguel. Miguel's talons grew bigger, caused by uncontrollable anger and desire to destroy things. He ripped a machine in half, not even a few minutes ago, and even tho you've known him for years, you couldn't help but be a little scared. You stood there, not daring to say anything, not even knowing what to say, as Miguel moved towards you, scanning you with his vampire-looking eyes.
"You help him one more time," he started, his voice deep and steady, his accent more visible now. "You're out." The thought of being kicked out of the Spider Society made your heart skip a beat. This was all you had. You couldn't go back home. You had nothing there. But you knew Miguel or Jess wouldn't hesitate to send you back if it meant protecting the Multiverse. So you nodded without letting out a word. You understood, even tho you couldn't help but feel pity for him. For Miles. He's still just a kid. But if it meant the multiverse stayed safe, you would do anything to protect it. Even letting Miles' dad die.
"I understand," You kept your head low, not daring to look him in the eyes. You wanted to go and disappear into your room before you felt Miguel's hands grab your face, his talons touching your cheeks, lifting your head up.
"It's the right thing to do." He whispered, his voice a tad softer, but you could still hear the anger filling him. And you've been through this many times to know how this always ends. You didn't fight it. You actually enjoyed it, although you'd never admit it to yourself.
"Yeah, I know." You smiled at him, staring into his bloody eyes. His fangs pierced his lips, causing a drop of blood to drip down his chin. Without thinking, you lifted your hand to brush it off, Miguel carefully watching you. He didn't flinch or move. He let you caress his lips to wash away the blood on his full lips. You didn't even notice you were backed up against a table, Miguel's hand on your waist while the other still held your chin. You dropped your arms, fingers sliding down his torso, not breaking eye contact.
"I made a mistake, I know." You whispered, Miguel tilting his head, his talons carefully caressing your cheek and moving down to your neck. "I've made you angry." He nodded, approving of what you were saying, his eyes following the talons outlining the lines of your collarbones. His claws were so sharp. If he wasn't careful, he could rip your skin apart. And even though he was mad at you, at Lyla, and Miles at everyone, he didn't want to hurt you. There were always other ways to show you his anger and disappointment with you.
"I'm sorry for that, Miguel." You let out, his talons stopping where your heart would be. It was beating fast, blood rushing through your veins. He could feel it all. Hear your inconsistent breath. Feel you tremble beneath him. He could smell the heat between your legs.
"Está bien," his lips formed a little smile, you were sure you were imagining it. His hand moved to your chin again, grabbing you harder, forcing you to look at him. "Just don't obey my orders ever again. Is that clear?" He said out loud, making sure you heard him.
He grabbed your cheeks so hard you couldn't even open your mouth in response. But he knew you understood. And while you were focusing on his one hand grasping your cheeks, you gasped when you felt his other hand rip your suit in half, letting it fall to the floor. The number of torn suits of yours and the number of the new ones that Lyla has made for you, because of this reason. You lost count after seven.
You didn't wear anything under your suit, as it would ruin the lines of your figure, you were fully exposed to him now, his talons moving up and down your stomach. They were cold to the touch, making you hold your breath every time they touched your skin. But they still managed to make your panties wet with arousal. You loved it when he took you like this. Like you were his. Like you belonged to him. You exist just for him. You fucking loved it. Being taken from behind while pulling your hair. His fingers fucking your cunt because you wouldn't stop annoying him. You choking on his cock after he's had enough of your teasing. Being in the Spider Society had its pros and cons. This was one of the pros.
"Eres tan hermosa, arañita". he let out a breath, his talons circling your nipples. If he was so gentle with you, it made your walls clench around nothing. His hands stopped at your ribs, his eyes again scanning your face, head tilted. Like he was thinking about what he wanted to do. What he's gonna do with you tonight. It didn't take him a long time to figure out.
You watched as he placed his strong hands on your shoulders, slightly pushing down. You understood what he wanted. You kneeled in front of him, no questions asked. You've done this so many times, you knew his thoughts by memory. For a few seconds, he just stared at you, naked kneeling in front of him, looking at the massive bulge in his suit. Fuck, he almost came just by looking at you. So desperate for his cock.
You moved your hair out of your face, right before his suit opened, right at his crotch revealing his cock, already covered in precum. He was thick and big, spreading you every time he fucked you. It was a mix of pain and pleasure, making tears fall from your eyes, and orgasm take over your body. He never failed to satisfy you. Never failed to make you beg for more.
"You know what to do," he said, looking down at you, grasping your hair, pulling it slightly. You smiled to yourself, lifting your hands still on your knees and bringing them to his cock. As you grabbed him, your whole hand couldn't fit around him. Made you wetter than before. You decided to tease him a little bit, leaving just slight strokes, not fully touching him, your lips so close to him, he could feel your breath. You regretted it a few minutes after he lost his patience, pushing your head forward, his cock deep inside your mouth.
"Take it, you whore." His hands held your head in place while his hips thrust into your mouth. His cock in your mouth, leaving bruises, your eyes filling with tears. You loved being used like this. You loved being fucked like a slut. You enjoyed it when he called you derogatory names. Sometimes, he mixed it with praise. Fucking you hard, telling you how good of a slut you are for him. He could fuck you with his words without even touching you.
His hips started to move faster, his cock throbbing inside your mouth. He was close. And he was gonna cum on your tongue. Just how you liked it.
"Fuck," he growled, his hold on your head losing strength which confirmed he would finish in your mouth. "So good around my cock," he whispered to himself, fucking your mouth harder, making sure to leave bruises. To mark you as his.
"I'm-." Before he managed to finish the sentence, his cum started to fill your mouth, warming your tongue. He stayed there for a while, recovering before pulling out, breathing heavily. He watched you as you swallowed his load, licking your fingers after cleaning your lips. Fuck, you looked so good.
"You look so good when I fuck your mouth," he smiled at you, trying to push away the sweaty hair on your forehead. You looked so beautiful, kneeling in front of him, your tits out, your cheeks and eyes red, sweat dripping down your forehead. You were a mess already, and he had just begun.
"Stand up," he commanded. You had some trouble getting up after sitting for so long, Miguel noticed and helped you by lifting you up and sitting you down on the table in front of him. He was still so huge, your eyes facing his stomach. You both loved the size difference.
"I want you to be quiet," he said, his eye redder than before. "You're not gonna make a single sound, or I'll stop. Do you understand?" You nodded your head, understanding completely. You've already been through this. Many times, he left you all spread out in his bed because you couldn't keep quiet. Forcing you to deal with it on your own, but nothing ever felt good as his tongue or his cock.
"Good girl," he said, staring into your eyes, his talons digging into your thighs as he spreads me apart. Your cunt is so wet, the smell hits him in the nose. All he's done was fuck your throat and you were already soaking wet for him. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. He didn't break eye contact as his hand traveled down between your legs, making you bring your hand to your mouth to not make any noise as he touched your bare cunt. His fingers on your wet clit, gently moving up and down.
"No así, mi dulce." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. It was too fast, you didn't have time to think as he turned you around fast, pushing you down, your tits touching the cold wood of the table. Ass up, and bend over. His favorite view. Just waiting to get fucked like a slut.
You should have known he wouldn't stop at this, as he also took your arms, forcing them apart and sticking them to the edge of the table with his web shooters. His feet kicked your legs, so they were more apart from each other.
"Joder, eres tan jodidamente hermosa." He whispered as he stepped back to take a better look at you. Bent down over the work table, legs apart, ass up, your tits pushed against the wood, and your arms tied up by his web shooters. So ready for him. Ready to get fucked in the ass by him. He loved the control he had over you. He cherished every second of it.
You felt his talons, going up and down your spine as you lay there, waiting for him to use you. He bent down to your ear, his fangs digging into your earlobe. "If you want me to stop, now is the time, sweetie," He whispered gently, awaiting your answer. You nodded your head.
"Good," he smiled, stepping back again as he took off his hologram suit, his brought shoulders and back visible to the world. You wish you could have seen him exposed, just like you, in the middle of an open office. Anyone could've walked in and seen you being fucked like a slut. But anyone with common sense knew not to bother Miguel now. So you were safe. And for Lyla? She's probably in here somewhere. But this was nothing she hadn't seen before.
Miguel's fingers brushed over your wet clit, testing you, if you make any noises. He was determined to break you tonight. When you stayed silent, he kneeled, attaching his fat tongue to you. That's when he heard a little whimper out of you. You could feel his cold fangs touching your lips, but you know he wouldn't use them like this. There were other places where he loved burying them inside of you. As your thoughts were occupied with his fangs, his tongue started to move faster, licking up and down your slit, his hands spreading your ass cheeks apart.
"Tastes so good," he growled against your cunt, sending shivers down your spine. His tongue and mouth were one of your favorite things about him. The way be devoured your cunt every single time. He could yell at you about how you're useless and only causing problems, but seconds later, he'd be on his knees, eating you out like he'd never eaten before. You could crumble on his tongue, and see stars and worlds just by the way he worked on your cunt.
You tried so hard to keep quiet as his tongue kept working on you, preparing you for his cock. His hands were still grabbing your ass you were sure he left a mark. He loved showing others you were his. That you loved being fucked and used by him.
You felt your orgasm approaching before you felt his tongue disappear and heard him get up, standing now behind you, staring at your cunt. The room was quiet, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. You weren't sure how you were gonna keep silent, and you were sure you were gonna fail.
"Tan bonito para mi," he smirked, grabbing his cock and stroking himself for a while before his tip touched your entrance. "No hagas un sonido." He said before slamming himself deep inside of you, spreading your cunt with his fat cock. You wanted to cry out, scream his name, but you didn't. Your walls surrounded him, his cock so deep inside of you, if you had free hands you could feel him by touching your lower belly.
"Mierda," you heard him whisper before he gently moved his hips back and slammed into you again. His thrusts slowly began to be harder and faster, making sure he didn't cause you any unnecessary pain. After he was sure and by your muffled moans, he started to pound into you like an animal holding your hips, his talons digging into your skin. His fat cock hitting all the spots in your cunt, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, making you see stars. You never wanted this moment to end. You kinda wished Miles Morales would stick around to piss off Miguel more often. You certainly liked the results of his anger.
"Miguel," you moaned, quickly regretting it and pressing your forehead against the table, hoping Miguel didn't hear it. You knew he did when he stopped his movements, his cock still deep inside of you. You felt him bend over, lips to your ears, fangs making an appearance again.
"¿Qué dijiste, querida?" he asked calmly, one hand on the table to stable himself and the other one caressing your back. You quickly shook your head, not daring to meet his gaze. You were so close, and he stopped. Fuck.
You wanted to apologize and beg him to continue, but he spoke first. "I'm not gonna stop." He whispered in your ear before slowly moving his lips down, his cold fangs touching your skin. "I'm gonna make it so much worse." His voice was calm, and you could hear him smirk in it. With his free hand, he ripped off the web shooters holding your arms before lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. He started to pound into you again, talons on your hips and his fangs piercing your skin. The overstimulation of it all made you cry out loud not holding your screams back anymore. You cried his name out before you knew it was gonna get even worse. His free hand moved down your belly to your clit, where he started to spread your lips with his fingers. Fuck.
You didn't know what to focus on first. His talons and fangs marking you as his, his fingers rubbing your clit, or his fat cock pounding into your cunt without mercy. You were tired, and your legs were giving up, but the pleasure taking over your body. You've never felt that ever before.
You were close, too close, and Miguel knew it. "Cum for me," he growled into your skin, taking out his fangs and sucking on the blood spilling from the wound. His fingers started to move faster in your clit, his cock not changing pace in fucking you. "Show me how much you love being my good little whore." He whispered into your ear and with the next thrust of his, you came hard on his cock, your walls almost crushing him. You wanted to fall down but Miguel's arms held you close to him, not stopping pounding into your already sensitive and overstimulated pussy. He was close himself, but you could feel another orgasm approaching as he kept fucking into you restlessly.
"Miguel, fuck." You moaned, his hand moving up to play with your bouncing tits. You could feel him coming closer, this time, same as you. With his last thrust, you came on his cock again and he followed you shortly after. His cum filling you up, marking you as his. You fell onto the table, trying to recover yourself, Miguel's cock still deep inside of you.
You felt his hands lean against your back as he himself tried to catch his breath. Both of you stayed like that for minutes before Miguel pulled out of you, turning you carefully against him and picking you up, bridal style. You didn't care where he was taking you, you were so fucked up you didn't pay attention to anything.
You realized he put you into a bath, filled with hot water that smelled like vanilla. Miguel followed you and sat behind you, pulling you on his lap.
"You did good," he whispered into your ear and started to wash your body from the mess you two made. "I'm proud of you," His lips met your cheek, and a smile spread across your face. You let him wash your sensitive body while you relaxed in his arms, slowly drifting to sleep.
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mischiefmoons · 2 months
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lovers, or partners in crime
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 2.1k
summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation
(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )
Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.
It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames. 
Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.
Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.
How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?
Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.
“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”
She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.
“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”
You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.
You always do.
—-
“Clarisse stole the master bolt.” 
Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.
“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.
He knew. 
He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.
When did Luke start making plans without you? 
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again. 
“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt. 
How could you be so stupid? 
Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side. 
Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.
“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.
“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two. 
“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.
“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly,“Not enough.”
“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”
Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.
“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”
Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking. 
You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.
“I need to do this.” 
He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.
“Please,” he mumbles. 
Is it a request? 
The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.
“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”
Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.
He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.
“You’re my home, trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”
You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.
“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.
“Just a little bit longer.” 
Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?
“I have to do this, trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.” 
Despite this.
A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.
“I’ll find you!”
A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough. 
But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?
—-
The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.
“Luke’s leaving camp.”
She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.
The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.
Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.
What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.
“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.
Is this what love is…looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love. 
Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision. 
This one was just made without you. 
There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.
“Castellan…”
His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.
The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you. 
For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.
“I wanted to hurt you
 but the victory is that I could not stomach it.” 
 -Richard Siken
next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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suiana · 2 months
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Hiiiii :3
I just bing read all of your stuff and to be honest, the student council president totally has my heart <33
Like, omg?? Imagine having the top student at your school wrapped around your finger?? The idea makes me so happy. Like, i can imagine if you start/ are in a club he'd probably give whatever funding you asked for (but idk if he would be too jealous to let you be in one tho, he might make it disband to have you all to himself. Or not! Lemme know what you think)
also i luv your work, im so excited to see what you write this year 💛💛💛
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(yandere! student council president x gn! club leader reader)
"man there's no one coming..."
"then i suppose i am simply invisible, hm?"
you sigh, turning your head to stare at the student council president beside you. his face displays a gentle smile, but you know it is nothing more than a facade.
"you're different. you follow me around everywhere."
you mumble, groaning as you bury your face in your arms. that's right, he did follow you around wherever you went. said something like how he needs to keep an eye on you or something...
seriously, he might've been the reason your club has no people now! you know how scary he can get towards others. but he wouldn't do that, right? he's not that crazy... plus he's the one who approved of your club in the first place! he wouldn't do something like that! erm actually ☝️🤓
"yeah but that's only because i need to make sure that you're safe..."
he hums, caressing the back of your head with a tender hand. you only grumble in response to his words, finding no comfort in his touch.
after all, your club was on the verge of disbandment just a month after it got approved. initially, the club had lots of members, all coming to each club session. but as the weeks went by the numbers slowly dwindled and now you're left with no one. well, apart from the damned student council president of course.
you had always wanted a club. but now that you had one it was on the verge of disbanding? how could you feel happy?
"ugh safe from what? there's literally no one around me to even talk to now..."
"hm..."
he hums while watching you grumble to yourself, resisting the urge to smile. why? because it was precisely his plan to isolate you from others. but he wouldn't want to do it in such an obvious way, no not at all! you'd hate him!
instead he played the long game, agreeing to your silly little idea of starting your own club. at first he didn't want to agree. why start your own club when you could join him? you could be like, his honorary assistant or something. besides, being around others would only poison you. they're filthy pests.
but then he saw the way your eyes twinkled at the very idea of having your own club and... he decided to indulge you a little. you were just way too cute to reject!
he had expected maybe one or two people to be interested in your club but who would've known that your idea would've interested half of the school population? he was horrified. he could tolerate a small group of friends but half the school cohort?
so he did what any reasonable person would do and... slowly destroyed your club. come on, what else could a man in love do when his love was being threatened? of course he had to get rid of the competition. you could've fallen for one of your club members if he had just stood by and allowed such treachery to occur!
threatening your club members, forcing them to quit... it was all necessary to ensure you'd never leave him. not like you'd ever want to leave him anyway. he made sure you wouldn't have any hard evidence of him doing anything to threaten your club.
i mean, he's nice and sweet, isn't he? he allowed you to start a club, joined each and every one of your sessions, and even helped you advertise your club! how could you ever hate him?
really, he's just a nice president who's a little bit touchy, is all :) he's doing all this to protect you! so when will you realize that the presence of other people will do you no good?
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warriorofthought · 3 days
Text
I did love you, always!
Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.
Word count: 3103
Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings 
Winter Soldier x Reader
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You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.
You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.
"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.
"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.
"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”
"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.
He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him. 
You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now. 
You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse. 
He walks up to you. 
"What did you say?”
"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.
"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.
"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.
He stares at you and seems to be thinking. 
His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset. 
Then he sighs.
"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset." 
He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.
"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”
"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.
"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.
"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”
"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.
"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her." 
Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.
You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.
"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now. 
"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me." 
Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.
"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared."  You say gentle.  " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together." 
He stays silent for a bit. 
"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice. 
"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.” 
You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.
He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does. 
He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this. 
But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)
Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to. 
The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting. 
Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.
"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.
Sam shrug his shoulders .
"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."
You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.
"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."
"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.
Sam sights too.
"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.
"This time it's different because of... You know..."
"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.
"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"
Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."
You sigh " I will handle that."
Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.
The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.
Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.
"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.
The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."
Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.
"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"
The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.
You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.
He raises his voice.
"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."
You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.
You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.
You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.
"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.
His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...
He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.
You can feel his warmth and his closeness.
Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...
"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.
He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.
Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.
This time Sharon starts to mock you.
She points at you and laughs.
"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.
"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.
Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.
You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.
Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.
"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"
“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”
She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.
You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…
Sharon laughs again.
"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."
You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.
The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.
Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.
The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm. 
His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen. 
Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.
Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.
The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter. 
You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you. 
By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.
The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky. 
You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.
Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.
The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.
"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.
The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.
He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once. 
Then he finally speaks.
"We're going home.”
"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.
"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.
He focuses on flying the helicopter. 
"Home, and then we'll talk.”
Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)
The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse. 
This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.
He turns around to look at you. 
"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you. 
He is still in control, not Bucky.
So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you. 
"I wanted to apologize…”
"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”
He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say. 
You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.
Then he replies.
"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”
You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.
You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.
"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”
His expression softens even more as you cup his face. 
He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline. 
He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.
His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.
He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.
He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…
"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.
The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly. 
You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.
His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.
"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”
He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.
Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.
He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you. 
But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side. 
"I love you too..." he whispers.
Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.
And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving. 
He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass. 
He's holding you, so close and protecting you.
He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.
“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.”  his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You hug him back and softly pet his back.
“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.
He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.
He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come. 
He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.
His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.
"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”
His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you. 
"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..." 
He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed. 
Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now. 
His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…
"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.
He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear. 
"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."
He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore. 
This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.
"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”
“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?” 
You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.
You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 months
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Hallowed
Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k
Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.
Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.
Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.
It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.
She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.
“Michael…” she whines.
He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”
His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”
She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”
“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”
She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”
His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”
“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”
“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”
“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”
“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.
“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”
“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”
His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.
“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”
Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.
“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”
The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written. 
They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.
It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.
By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.
Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.
A first.
She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.
“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.
“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”
“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.
“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.
She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.
“Come here,” he commands softly.
She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.
“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”
He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.
His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.
She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.
His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.
She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.
He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.
“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”
She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.
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lanabuckybarnes · 11 days
Text
Fucking you (literally)
18+ Minors DNI
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(I don’t own any of the photos, credits to their original owners)
No thoughts just thinking about the different Bucky’s and the many ways they’d fuck.
Warnings: a few kinks mentioned in there: spanking, face sitting, hair pulling, phone sex, the winter soldier (he’s mean)
If I’ve missed any more warnings let me know
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40s Bucky is service top 98% of the time, he loves seeing you become immersed in pleasure, you’d think it was him feeling the way he touches you whenever you’d looked at his bliss-filled face. He just absolutely wants and needs you to be completely fucked out and slurring your words with how well he’s satisfied you. That other 2% of the time though, he’s a fucking tease. You want a kiss, he’s pulling away with a tut, that wide grin getting impossibly wider as you whine to him.
If you’re like that with just a kiss imagine how you’d react if he had you flat on your back, dress and underwear thrown somewhere in the room, at this point you didn’t give a fuck. His lips ghost over your stomach, leaving chaste kisses and hot breaths in their wake. Just when he gets to that spot you so desperately want him, he’s away- your thighs needed more marks he’d say. The way only one of his hands would be able to hold you down while he relentlessly teased you, the other either gripping your breast or holding your hand.
Also, breeding kink??
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The Winter Soldier. I honestly don’t think this man would fuck at all but, in this scenario let’s say he partook in it. He is the only Bucky Barnes that I genuinely think would be fully rough, you need mean? You’ve got it. He doesn’t care about your pleasure, he uses you as a release (consensually of course), pushing your face down into the covers and ploughing you. He’d smack your ass so hard as well and leave you sore for weeks because of them, people would normally ask if you were ok but they hear the way he destroys you, they don’t need an explanation as to why you can’t sit down.
I don’t think he’d be entirely heartless, he’d probably feel quite horrible about the huge red marks blooming on your cheeks but you’d reassure him that you loved it, loved the way he used you.
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Civil War Bucky needs someone to take the wheel. He’s so used to having someone control him and it’s hard to shake that immediately. He just needs soft words in his ears while you ride him slowly, sometimes he’s just happy to let you sit there with his cock in you. Civil War Bucky is so whiny, I just imagine him constantly with a veiny hand over his mouth to hide his pitiful moans, his deep blue eyes wet with tears, never leaving you as you suck his thick length nice and good.
On some occasions, Civil War Bucky will try to take the lead but more often than not he’ll flunk out halfway through, flip you over so you’re sitting on top of him and beg you to ride his face until you make a mess of him. Lives for eating pussy, almost cums in his pants when you pull on his hair.
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I skipped 3 eras because they’re the same as Civil War Bucky but FATWS Bucky is like a mix of them all.
When he’s in a foul mood he either needs you to ruin him or he needs to ruin you.
He likes it when you dress all pretty for him when you put on a nice outfit and some pretty silk undies so he can unwrap you, godddd damn.
Since he’s on missions a lot you came to him with the idea of phone sex, or sending videos and pics of each other. To begin with, he was very apprehensive of the whole idea but one long mission later and his cock was hard and his hand wasn’t cutting it. He’d sigh and pick up the phone, noting the late hour over where you were staying. He knew you probably wouldn’t be awake but his finger had pressed call before he even knew it.
Surprisingly you picked up with a cute lil “hey baby” and a soft smile he could hear in your words. His cheeks were beet red when he began to talk about the whole phone sex thing, you helped calm him down though. Suddenly with your sultry voice in his ear, his thrusts into his hand felt so much better. He came hard that night and after saying his Goodnights to you he took a mental note to do that every mission.
-
I’m ovulating can you tell?
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m00nsbaby · 8 months
Text
Already over.
Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)
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Part 2. Sleepwalking.
Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.
Word count. 3.4k
Summary.
We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.
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It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.
You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.
Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.
The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.
You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.
It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.
The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.
"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.
"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.
You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.
Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.
Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.
"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.
You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.
The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.
"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.
He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.
You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.
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"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.
"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.
"It's a fraud."
"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.
"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."
Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.
"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."
Ah. That.
That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.
"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.
How much longer could you go on like this?
After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.
"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.
"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.
You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.
The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.
"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.
"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.
"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, Steven."
"I love you, sweetheart."
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Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.
The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.
Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.
"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.
He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.
The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.
Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.
"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.
"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."
You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.
"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.
"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.
He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.
He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.
You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.
"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.
Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.
You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.
When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.
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"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"
"Huh?"
"You seem distracted today."
"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.
"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.
Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.
"Can we talk?"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.
Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.
"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."
Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.
"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.
"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.
"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.
Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.
"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.
You were all he had, and he was all you had.
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Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.
"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.
"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"
"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.
"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.
You gasped.
"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.
There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.
"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.
He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.
Love at first sight.
"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."
You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.
You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.
After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.
"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.
The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.
"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."
"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."
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"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.
"She knows."
Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Ah?"
"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.
"Knows what?"
"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.
Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.
You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.
"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"
"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.
"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.
"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."
Ouch.
"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.
And maybe, not lose Marc either.
"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.
"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.
He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.
"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.
"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"
A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.
"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."
And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.
His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.
"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?
You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.
This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.
You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.
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sorry, i got tired of happy endings
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
798 notes · View notes
cobrabobra · 1 year
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Dating Daryl headcanons:
as much as I love to imagine Daryl showering his partner with affection, giving you kisses and telling you he loves you, I think he's not the type of person to do so
I think he shows his love for you through spending time with you, providing for you, being there for you
I think he rarely says he loves you, he shows it through his actions, not words. He says it after a near death experience or before it.
Daryl looked into your eyes, deseprate and sad, he thought he will never see you again.
They picked him up to shove him into the truck, they wanted to take him to the Sanctuary, to break you two apart.
"Daryl" you only managed to rasp out, you didn't have any strength left in your body, not after seeing Glenn and Abraham die, not after seeing him hurt, not after being defeated, no, completely destroyed by Negan.
You wanted to lounge out, to tear him from their arms, not let them take him away. But you couldn't, they'd kill you, kill him, if you tried. Only thing you could do is cry and stare at him, pray to God that nothing bad will happen to him.
"I love you" he said, desperate to keep looking into your eyes, desperate to stay with you, forever.
I feel he isn't really into touch either, he's been touched in only the wrong ways all he's life, so he's afraid to be touched and to touch.
Of course he does touch you, but it takes time to get into his head that he won't hurt you. You can expect little, soft touches, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.
I think he'd appreciate if you'd try to contain yourself and not touch him a lot either. Every one of us wants to shower this man with love and affection, but I think that'd just overwhelm him. He'd like touches like, your head on his shoulder sitting near a fire, getting his hair out of his face, gently massaging his neck.
Although I think he'd enjoy an occasional, playful smack on the ass. He'd glare at you, act like he's mad, maybe call you stupid, but deep in his heart he'd enjoy this, that silly little interactions between you two.
When it comes to kissing, there's some, but not a lot and they're either soft, delicate kisses, like he's a kid kissing his mama on the cheek, kisses that show his appreciation of every single thing you're doing for him, there are awkward but cute kisses, like he's a teenager kissing his pillow imagining kissing his crush and of course there are rough, passionate kisses you two share during sex.
Does he take you on dates? Yes, of course. Are those traditional dates? Hell no. He takes you hunting. He's teaching you how to track, how to be quiet and not scare your pray, how to be a part of the forest. He keeps you close to him, your hands brushing against each other as you creep through the woods. And then you get to sit by the fire, eat your dinner, your head on his shoulder. You also ride his bike with him, sitting behind, your hands holding onto his hips, wind in your hair, warmth of his body seeping through. That's what dates are to him, spending quality time with each other.
He's extremely protective, he's lost so much people already, he's not losing you. Not to a walker, not to another person, not to anything. Whenever you hurt yourself, whether it's a small nick, a cut from choping vegetables or a broken limb, he panics. He doesn't show it that much, but in his head he sees all the possibilities of what could happen next. If you're bedridden, he will not leave your side even if a herd was passing by or somebody held a gun to his head. If there was a situation where you and a couple other people were in danger, he'd sacrifice someone if that's what it takes to get you out of there safe and sound.
If somebody hits on you, he'll be quick to react. He probably wouldn't be the type to threaten somebody because they tried to flirt with you. He'd probably do everything to spend as much time with you as he can, to show the other person that you much rather spend time with him than with them. He wouldn't tell you but he'd feel insecure and in need of reasurance that he's the one you want, that nobody else matters.
He'd want to have a family with you, not sure about kids, but you, Daryl and Dog would make a great family, kids or not.
He wouldn't know how to propose, he's not good with words nor being romantic. He'd like it to be romantic but that's probably not gonna happen.
"Hey, you want it?" Daryl raised his hand, a ring between his fingers, looking at you with his puppy eyes. His heart pounding like crazy in his chest, begging God that you'd say yes.
"Ye-yeah" you said, shocked at his actions, you hadn't been expecting that. A big smile on your face as you took the ring in your hands. "Thanks, Dixon"
"No problem, Dixon"
For Daryl love isn't butterflies and fireworks, it's the calmness and peace he feels when you're around, it's the quality time spent with you, it's the family you two build. That's love for Daryl.
Happy Valentine's Day!
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flamingpudding · 5 months
Text
Fictober23 Prompt: 30 - "Are you with me?"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: G
Warnings: -
A/N: I had absolutely no idea what to do with this one… and it shows I think… also can this be considered crackish?
"Danny you ready?"
"Give me a second Red!"
"No time! Going live in…"
"Wait wait wait!"
"3..."
"I got the popcorn!"
"2…"
"What about the block against the Justice League?!"
"1…"
"Red locked them out of the system. Now get ready!!"
"Go!"
Danny blinked as he got pushed by Superboy in front of the camera Impulse was standing behind. Behind them was Wonder Girl giving him a thumbs up with one hand and holding up giant flash cards with her other one.
"Uh Hi?"
Impulse raised an eyebrow and moved his hand in a keep going motion. Nervously Danny rubbed his neck. He looked left and right as if looking for something until his eyes focused back onto the camera. He coughed, took a deep breath, unnecessary in phantom form but helpful to calm down, before smiling and touching his hands together at their fingertips.
"Ahem. Hello, hi. Now you might be wondering. Who the fuck is that guy to interrupt my Saturday night movie program. I am Phantom, the newest member of Young Justice. King of the Ghost Zone also known as the Infinite Realms. The Dimension that's pretty much gluing our entire reality together." He gave the camera a nervous smile before he continued. "I am here to tell you on behalf of the entirety of the Infinite Realms. That you humans, of this dimension…"
Danny took a deep breath, from the corner of his eyes he saw Superboy giving another keep going sign while Red Robin was checking something on his laptop, making sure none of their mentors was trying to cut short their live feat over the entire world as well as that the subtitles worked for different language countries.
"...well you humans suck." Danny said as he breathed out, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment to let his message sink in. "Look, I get it. It's always hard finding something new, seeing change but come on. Anti-Ecto Acts? Was that necessary?"
He waved his hand around like he was thinking to find the right words while peaking at the flash card Wonder Girl was holding up.
"Like come on, can't you humans get your act together? Why hunt down an entire species just because they are different? You humans are already constantly at war with each other, aside from the idiocy of that, do you really have to add interdimensional war to that list?"
Danny chuckled nervously ignoring the additional flash card Impulse was now holding up to make him call out some of the humans' crimes against, the list mostly containing petty things Impulse didn't like. "Just so you know. I am barely keeping my council from declaring the dimensional one by the way." He added instead.
"Now you all are probably wondering what the hell this random ghost hero is talking about with no solution." He glanced to the side. " Well I have one."
Danny coughed into his hand and right his stance. "Dogs."
He held out his arms and Cujo appeared out of nowhere jumping into them. Off camera Wonder Girl coed. His ghost puppy had pretty much charmed all his hero friends since day one.
"They are loyal, awesome, cute and every beings best friend. Ancients even Superman has one!" Danny said smiling as he held up Cujo into the camera, he was glad he had remembered to infuse Red Robin's equipment with ectoplasm so the broadcast wouldn't get distorted.
"It's something we can all agree on. So, are you with me? Let's discard these stupid acts and all focus on the cuteness of little beings like him? How could anyone want to destroy his entire existence!"
"SHIT!" Red Robin cursed loudly off Camera and Danny blinked head turning towards his direction. "B got our location! Oracle ratted us out and is about to shut down the broadcast!"
"What this soon?! We didn't even get to the juicy parts yet!" Impulse complained loudly and Danny nervously faced the camera.
"Uh… Yea so.. No Anti-Ecto Acts and pro Dogs!" He summed up liften a encouraging fist up as Cujo barked happily in his arms.
"ETA 2! We need to bolt!" Red Robin shouted as Wonder Girl Rushed across the camera to open the window on the other side. Superboy was already picking up Red Robin and Impulse was gone before Red had even finished his sentence.
Phantom gave the camera one nervous smile as Cujo jumped out of his arms. "For the record. This broadcast was brought to you by sleep deprived Red and our opinion that the Justice League is taking too long!"
The next second phantom was seen rushing off to the side most likely following the others a moment later a crash was heard in the distance before the camera tilted and fell to the side. The broadcast was cut off at that point.
Unknown to the audience, a group of young hero's was rushing away from there not so secret broadcasting location, trying to escape their mentors that were not happy about their kids trying to take matters into their own hands just because 'the adults are taking to long'.
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scoutswritingcorner · 23 days
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Hey lovely~ I got a angsty idea for you
How about a alastor fic? Where he loves reader and he goes to tell them but? Their dating Lucifer~ so? He sees them kissing and stuff
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Whatever else you wanna add feel free too
Hello Love~ Here ya go~
Sweet As Apple Pie
Lucifer x GN!Reader x Alastor
(RadioApple x GN!Reader)
A/N: This is my first time writing a ship x reader fic so if it’s kinda weird I apologize.
TW:Jealousy, Alastor and Lucifer fighting, Alastor crying and even more crying at the end. 
Finally finding the courage to tell you how he feels, Alastor quickly finds out how late he was..until you have a talk with him.
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The walk back from Cannibal Town was quiet, giving Alastor the perfect opportunity to think about how he was going to exactly talk to you about his weird feelings about you. The feelings he would rather keep pushed down but Rosie had convinced him that he could talk to you and it wouldn’t kill him, even if it killed his pride a little bit. How could he think about that right now when something caught his eye from a shop across the road, something that you would love.
When Alastor got back to the hotel, something immediately felt off to him. Then he heard it, your laughter mixed with Lucifer’s laughter. That short stump of a man thinking he can take your heart from him? His pace quickened as he tried to figure out where you were located, his undead heart skipping a beat when he heard you laugh harder, the gift in his pocket feeling heavier and heavier by the second. Stopping near the kitchen door, he raised his hand about to knock on the door, his gaze softening as he glanced over your frame. The way the apron was tied around you and how you had flour all over your face, holding a knife in one hand and a peeled apple in the other. The soft smile was replaced with a strained grin when he saw how that small nuisance that everyone called a King, pulled you down into a gentle kiss wiping a cloth over your flour covered face. Why did his chest hurt? 
A scowl graced his lips as Lucifer finally looked over at him. “Oh it’s you,” He called out, making Alastor glare at him, you looked over and smiled at him. “Al! What can I do for you?” you walked over but before you could touch him, he backed up and shook his head making up an excuse to leave quickly. He quickly disappeared to hide in his room. He sat down on one of his chairs and looked down as something wet was running down his face. He blamed it on the condensation of the bayou but deep deep down..he knew it wasn't the cause of the condensation.
~~~
It was an hour after you had watched Alastor leave without explanation, you excused yourself from Lucifer (who pouted and gave you puppy dog eyes) but you promised to be back as soon as you could. You knew better than to follow after Alastor immediately especially since he looked so agitated. You hummed carrying a plate of his favorite snack that you had made for him in hopes it would lift his spirits even if a little bit. You loved Alastor but understood that romantic emotions for him were few or far inbetween. You respected him in every sense of the word and you hoped it shined through even if he was a bit of a drama queen. You just didn’t know how far he would go to protect you. He would destroy the Earth if he had the chance to see you smile at him once more.
Your feelings for Lucifer had just hit you out of nowhere one day, you were talking with Angel about it (cause the boy loves drama) and when you said it outloud it scared you. You had feelings for The King of Hell- the Big Boss man himself and when Angel saw the tears forming the laughter stopped immediately to comfort you. Who knew a year later that he’d be asking you out on dates and being an anxious gentleman. You loved both of them equally, but how could you bring it up to either one of them? They both hated each other and they didn’t dare hide it, so you did what you do best. You pushed down your feelings and tried to forget. 
You took a deep breath and knocked on Alastor’s bedroom door, “Al? It’s me, can I come in?” You called out patiently waiting hoping he wasn’t in his tower doing a broadcast but before the thought to go check his tower crossed your mind, his door opened to reveal him to be asleep in his chair. His shadow happily letting you in, you smiled towards the shadow who curled around you before moving about his room. Walking towards him and hearing how the soft radio static changed to different stations as he slept made a soft smile pull at your lips.
You placed the treat on the table next to the chair and moved to carefully drape a blanket over him. A hand reached up and grabbed your arm making you yelp in surprise as Alastor chuckled his arm gently rubbing where he grabbed your arm. “Sorry to wake you, Al..I wanted to deliver your favorite snack..I hope I made it to your liking.” You whispered out watching as he slowly blinked the sleep from his crimson eyes. Your heart fluttered as you watched him for a moment before you looked away, you couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t interested in you like that.
“I bet it’s amazing as always, Dear. Now how did you get inside my room?” He hummed standing up and stretching causing you to fully realize he wasn’t wearing his jacket and his tail (oh god his tail looked super fluffy) was happily wagging. Your eyes snapped on his figure before chuckling, “You’re shadow let me in..are you okay? You seemed agitated earlier.” You asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He stayed silent for a moment as he put his coat back on before sitting back down and motioning for you to do the same, which you happily do sitting down on the couch in his room.
You both sat in silence for a few moments longer, nothing out of the ordinary between both of you, you glanced over a few times to see him happily eating the treat you had made. You smiled and looked away allowing him to take his time to collect his thoughts even if it took an hour for him to do so, you didn’t mind sitting in his company. After what you assumed was half an hour or maybe even ten minutes a loud knock erupted from the door causing Alastor to glare at the door. 
“My Love?~ Are you still there?” Lucifer called out as you got up and looked over at Alastor who had also stood up, his ears flat against his head in annoyance. He opened the door and glared at Lucifer, “You are interrupting our time together.” He growled out causing Lucifer to scoff and roll his eyes, “I’m the one interrupting? I’m not the one who disappeared and made my dearest worry about you.” He growled back before his eyes landed on you, his gaze softening. “Darling there you are, the apple pie is done if you’d like to come down and try a slice?~” He purred out, gently grabbing your hands as soon as you got close.
You smiled and looked back at Alastor, “Would you like to join? I can make your favorite tea as we speak?” He nodded and reached over to brush your hair out of your eyes, “Of course, give me a moment and I’ll be right down.” He ignored how Lucifer gave him a dirty glare and pulled you closer to him. He turned back into his room to make sure he still had the gift hidden in his jacket pocket before grabbing the now empty plate from the table, he could tell you couldn’t he?
As you got back into the kitchen you smiled seeing how Lucifer had graciously pulled the apple pie out of the oven. “You didn’t want to take the first slice, Luci?” You gently squeezed his hand as red blush creeped up his cheeks. “Nope! I wanted to wait until you got the first slice.” He hummed watching as Alastor appeared from the shadows into the kitchen cleaning up the dishes with a flick of his wrist. You gave Lucifer’s hand a gentle squeeze before moving to start making Alastor’s favorite tea.
It was silent for a moment longer before Alastor cleared his throat ready to rip whatever he felt off of his chest. “I uh..I realized I have certain feelings and Rosie urged me to get them off my chest.” He said not looking over at you but he could feel Lucifer’s glare. “Oh? Who’s the lucky person to catch your eye, Al?” your voice was soft as he took a moment messing with his cane as he sent a look towards Lucifer, “I..It’s you, Dear.” He whispered out his ears flickering before he stood up seeing you drop a plate on the ground, hands shaking. Lucifer ran over to check for any cuts on your hands, constantly glancing at your face trying to decipher your emotions.
You were silent for the longest time as you felt guilty all those emotions had bubbled over into a flurried mess of tears and laughter. Not the point and laugh kids did to each other in school but more of the you felt like a moron. Oh, Alastor felt downright horrible seeing you cry like that, walking over and ignoring how Lucifer was basically cursing his bloodline he gently cupped your chin. Lifting your head so you could look at him, the laughter dying down to a loud sob as you kept apologizing over and over to them both. How you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole right now.
“I feel so bad-” you sobbed out causing Lucifer to gently wipe your tears away, “What’s wrong, Love?” he asked softly his heart hurting as he hated seeing you cry like this. “I’m in love with both of you but you both hate each other-” you exclaimed causing the both of them to cast a glance at each other. “Oh darling..” Alastor whispered out as Lucifer sighed, “Let’s talk about it okay? I’m not upset at you if that’s what you're thinking.” Leading you to a chair he helped you sit down. Gently holding your head close to his chest as apologies slipped through your lips allowing Alastor to give you some calming tea.
After a few moments of talking it out between both of them, they were able to come to a conclusion of sharing you. Alastor gently hummed a soft tune as he pulled out the gift from his pocket and gave it to you. Lucifer was most definitely going to try and one up him later but for right now? He was more focused on giving you kisses and cuddles to keep those tears away from your eyes, “Don’t you want to go eat some pie, Lucie? You were looking forward to eating some.” You whispered out blushing darkly as Alastor kissed your knuckles and Lucifer grumbled, “Hmm..No..You’re kisses are as sweeter than that apple pie~” he hummed out his chest puffing out hearing your laughter. “You’re both dorks.”
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