#the urge to sleep in a little tight space | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theemporium · 7 months

Text

“Baby?”

Silence.

“Babe?”

Silence.

“Luke?”

Silence.

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

You let out a small huff as you shifted once again, like you had been doing for the last fifteen minutes. Luke had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that he was already asleep and that he didn’t notice the way you kept wiggling around. But it was hard to ignore it when you were practically shaking the whole bed every twenty seconds.

“Stop being rude,” you muttered as you turned your body so you were facing him. You tucked one arm under your pillow, the other picking at the duvet in the space between you both. “I can’t fall asleep.”

His brows furrowed together slightly, even if his eyes were still closed. “You good?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered honestly.

You didn’t know why you felt so off. Everything seemed fine. In fact, everything seemed perfect. This was the first year you were invited to join your boyfriend at the lakehouse. You had met Luke just before last summer had started, near the end of the hockey season at a coffee shop. It felt like a scene written out of a book or a romcom, with him rushing out as you were rushing in—only to collide and have iced coffees split over both of you.

It had been an awkward but wholesome meeting. Luke was fumbling over his words, his cheeks burning pink and his brain seeming unable to properly work with a pretty girl right in front of him. You found it endearing, especially when Jack had opened his window to yell at his brother to hurry up before they were late to morning skate.

Luke had blurted out, asking for your number and it had been a dream ever since.

You spent all of last summer texting and calling and getting to know each other. When he came back to Jersey, you met up at the same coffee shop for your first date, which only led to many, many more. And when summer rolled around again, Luke had asked for you to come with him and his friends to the lakehouse, and you had accepted.

The lakehouse was a dream. It was the perfect summer destination, his friends were amazing and his family were even better. You got along with his mother, you bonded with his father, you laughed with his brothers, you joked with his friends. It was perfect, and yet you were still unable to wave off the tightness in your chest that hadn’t left.

And now, lying in the dark room after a long day out on the lake, you should have fallen asleep the second your head hit the pillow like Luke was fighting to do right now. Instead, you were squirming and rolling around and trying to shake off the weirdest urge to cry.

“C’mere,” Luke murmured as he opened his arms, giving you a total of three seconds to react before he was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “Talk to me.”

“M’sorry, you were about to sleep,” you muttered, your cheek pressed against his chest and it helped a little. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I don’t wanna sleep if you’re not okay,” Luke said with a frown on his face. He blinked his eyes open, the bleariness still there as he looked down at you. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You sighed, your arms winding around his torso as you settled on top of him. “Just feel…weird.”

“Weird?”

“Weird,” you repeated with a small shrug. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just getting in my own head.”

“Baby, don’t do that,” Luke grumbled, softly pinching your hip in retaliation as you squealed softly.

“This helps,” you reassured him. “Being with you helps.”

“It does?” He questioned, sounding adorably clueless and flattered, and it made your lips twitch.

“Yeah, it helps being close to you,” you said to him, settling happily as his arms tightened around you. “You make me feel safe.”

“Oh,” he murmured before he smiled a little. “You make me feel safe as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on his chest just where his heart was beating. “I’ll fall asleep now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But you didn’t. Because despite feeling safer in Luke’s arms, it didn’t stop the thoughts whirling around in your brain. It eased the tightness in your chest, but not the chaos in your head. And despite thinking you weren’t being obvious, Luke could feel how tense and rigid you were in his arms. He knew you weren’t fine. He knew you were getting in your own head. And he wanted to help.

“Mmph,” you let out a surprised noise when Luke rolled over, the comforting weight of his body on top of you as he lifted his head up. “Luke—”

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly, cutting you off.

“Of course,” you breathed out before nodding. “Of course I do.”

“Just relax f’me then, okay?” He muttered out sleepily as his hands squeezed your hips before one hand started to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Luke–” You started again, but he swiftly quieted you with a kiss. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted into his embrace, feeling your stomach dip with excitement as his tongue worked its way into your mouth as his large palm cupped your cunt.

“Just need to get that brain of yours to calm down,” he murmured between slow, messy kisses as his thumb pressed against your clit in slow circles. “Need you to just lay there and look pretty, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut as his kisses slowly trailed down to your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised in a low voice, pushing your downs until they were abandoned somewhere by the foot of the bed. His fingers softly glided through your folds, humming in delight when he felt you already dripping for him. “That’s my girl.”

“Luke,” you whispered, so aware that the house was silent and that people were asleep, but so uncaring when your boyfriend slowly worked you open. “Please.”

“I know, babe, I know,” he murmured in a hushed voice. “Just gotta trust me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you whined, a little breathy and high-pitched, and it made his cock twitch.

You felt like you were already spiralling with his fingers curled inside you, slowly thrusting in and out as he hit spots that your own fingers never seemed to reach. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer—and then he pulled out.

“No,” you cried out with a whimper, glossy eyes finding his in the dark as he chuckled softly. “Why—”

“Shhh, gonna fill you up, babe,” he assured you, silencing you once again with a kiss as his free hand worked his cock out of his boxers. “No need to cry about it.”

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream as he slowly pushed inside you, so big and deep and overwhelming that it was hard to focus on anything except the pleasurable burn of him stretching you out. Your nails dug into his skin, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from moving away and it was hard to think about anything else other than himhimhimhimhim—

“There we go,” he groaned, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he laid on top of you. “Takin’ me so well, baby.”

“Luke,” you breathed out.

“Shhh, just gonna stay like this,” he told you in a whispered voice, his hands tracing up and down your sides. “Just gonna keep you full, okay? We’re gonna sleep like this tonight.”

Your eyes clenched shut as he thrusted a little deeper inside you. “But—”

“Nuh uh, just like this, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing the pulse point on your neck. “Think you can do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clinging onto him.

“Atta girl,” he hummed. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“You always do,” you retorted instantly.

“Exactly, baby. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

“Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

#cece's smutober #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

2K notes · View notes

garoujo · 1 year

Text

YOU OPEN UP THE BLANKET FOR THEM — BLUE LOCK

feat : nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, bachira meguru, mikage reo.

♱ warnings — sfw, none! just some very cosy boys / note. snifle i was in grave need of something fluffy 4 comfort since it’s been a hard few days so this was wat i decided on <3

・✶ ｡ﾟNAGI SEISHIRO

you’re already so comfortable on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket nagi always buried himself in when you hear the door to your apartment close, followed by the slow drag of your boyfriends footsteps as he makes his way down the hallway. it doesn’t take long before you see the peak of his snowy bed head in the doorway, drowsy, lidded gaze blinking at you as a sleepy pout rests on his lips.

“sei, did you have a good practice?” you hum, singing out the little nickname that still makes his ears dust a little red before it’s drawing him closer.

“eh, so tired, pretty thing. ‘ts such a pain, just wanna stay in bed with you and play games.” his voice is already thick with sleep and you take the opportunity to make some room as he approaches. but before you can even consider lifting the blanket to let him in, you feel 190cm’s of muscle flop on top of you as he presses you into the cushions beneath you with a low whine.

“sei! you’re so heavy, move over!” you giggle, trying to push him off but you should know better than to try and move him when hes like this, his arms wrapping tight around your waist to keep you beneath him before he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck to smear sloppy, sleepy kisses along the skin.

“ah, but you’re sooo warm. no fair..” nagi’s voice trails off at the end as he lets your warmth blanket him, his breathing becoming softer as he hugs you closer — squeezing you like a wordless little request that you know all too well when your fingers come to smooth through his hair.

you can basically feel the way he melts into you, whimpering as he tries to push himself closer while his longer limbs get trapped in the fabric of the blanket beneath you both. but he’s warm and you can’t find it in yourself to complain when you feel his fingers trace messy little shapes into your skin.

“see, just wanna stay like this a lil longer.. moving would be such a pain.”

・✶ ｡ﾟITOSHI SAE

sae is quiet when he returns home to you, fatigue heavy in his muscles from a long day of practice as he pops his neck — sighing despite the gentle smile he still wears when he notices you on the couch waiting up for him. you’ve got a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and you send him a drowsy look before you’re smiling back.

“welcome home.” you breathe, it’s quiet and comforting and it’s accompanied by you lifting the side of the blanket draped over you as he takes a careful step into your space, letting the silence stretch out until he’s close enough to greet you with a chaste kiss against your temple.

“did you have a good day?” you ask again and sae gives you a soft look before he hums, sitting down onto the space beside you before he’s guiding your head down to rest in his lap.

“are you tired?” he finally asks, his tone low and smooth but it’s accompanied by the chaste swipe of his fingers along the apple of your cheek, urging you to look up at him when you shake your head in reply. it’s soothing, his touch as he lets you melt into him, curled up in the blanket that you’d offered him while his free hand tucks it under you.

“you’ll get cold like that.” sae clicks his tongue despite the fact it holds no real agitation when he looks at you — letting the corners of his lips turn up when you try to stifle your own smile as you hug yourself closer. but then he speaks again, squeezing gently at your cheek just so he can watch the way you pout and slap him away.

“tell me about your day.”

・✶ ｡ﾟITOSHI RIN

“what’re you doing?” rin asks from where he’s stood at the doorway to the living room, he’s still got a towel over his head from his shower — haphazardly drying his hair as he sends you a confused sort of look. you’re sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that’s draped over your head — making you barely visible under the heavy fabric apart from your now pouty features.

“it’s comfortable, you wanna join?” you grin, lifting the blanket and it’s amusing the way the dark haired striker grumbles before he clicks his tongue. he’s suddenly tearing his gaze away from you and mulling it over in his mind before he’s taking you up on the request — silently, like it’ll hide the way his ears seem to have tinted a little pink with your question.

it’s awkward at first, the way rin rests himself on the edge of the couch in the space next to you — he looks rigid and definitely not comfortable, but it’s endearing and a little cute seeing him like this. which is why you find yourself giggling before you speak, pulling a groan and a pretty frown from your boyfriend as he shoots you a look. “you can come closer, i won’t bite.”

“shutup, i don’t think you bite.. my hairs just wet.” he replies quickly, almost too fast before the end of his sentence breaks off into a mumble and he knows you’ve got him. but he sends you a wide-eyed, starry sort of look when your next movement brings your hands to the towel along his shoulders before you help dry it.

it’s gentle the way rin’s palm rests on your thigh, leaning into your touch as you dry off his dark hair — his cheeks are tinted a little pink and you can see the way he’s stealing glances at you before he’s finally easing, pushing closer to you as his fingers squeeze affectionately at your skin.

“thanks.”

・✶ ｡ﾟBACHIRA MEGURU

bachira’s already grinning when he makes his way into the bedroom, noticing you already comfy and nuzzled into the comforter over top of you as you send him a suspicious sort of look. “why are you smiling that?” you ask, pushing yourself up to furrow your brows at your boyfriend as he chuckles.

“jus’ happy to see my baby, m’kay? ‘s that so bad?” he sings, a sickly sweet little tone that almost has you playfully rolling your eyes when he sticks his tongue out at you. but you’re not immune to him, not at all — as you bring up the edge of the comforter, inviting him to finally crawl in beside you like you’ve been waiting for all night.

but bachira’s just as clingy as he is eager when he almost bounces into the bed beside you, his hands quick to grab at your waist before he’s pulling you close enough to be able to pepper your face in wet kisses. “awww, did you miss me that much, mhm? couldn’t wait to cuddle, huh? so cute.”

he’s such a tease as you try to push him away, giggling as he bathes you in ticklish presses of his lips and squeezes at the your waist until you’re wriggling into him. but he still sends you a giddy sort of grin when you finally surrender and let him pull you in for a tight little hug.

you’re both panting when bachira finally lets you breathe, sending you a smug sort of grin before he’s leaning in to press one last loud kiss against your lips, nuzzling into your chest a few moments later as his arms squeeze around you.

“knew it~ you only had to ask, baby. just wanted to hold you a little, that’s all.”

・✶ ｡ﾟMIKAGE REO

“you tired, bunny?” reo smirks from where hes tilting his head at you from the kitchen, swallowing back the rest of his protein shake as you lie curled up on the almost ridiculously sized couch hes got in the living room.

“i’m tired.” your voice is quiet, muffled from where your cheek is resting against the cushion and the blanket that’s so huge and fluffy it almost consumes you completely. you can basically feel the raise of your boyfriend’s brow when he breathes out a laugh, resting down his shaker bottle before hes drawing closer.

it’s almost instinct the way your eyes trail over to his figure, taking in the sight of him before you’re lifting up the edge of the blanket invitingly, and the gesture only seems to make reo’s smirk tug even wider as his lidded gaze drinks you up. “alright, i’ll allow it. how about i help you out with that?”

it’s careful the way he climbs in beside you before he’s taking your figure in his large hands, pulling you up until you’re resting pretty against his chest as one of his hands smooth down the length of your spine soothingly. you already feel like melting with the way his natural warmth consumes you, the only thing keeping you from dozing off completely being the light press of reo’s fingers under your chin to tilt your face towards his.

he’s close, close enough for his lips to already be ghosting your own when you look up — his gaze on yours as he continues the motions of his fingers across your skin. “how’s that, bunny? feel better?” his voice is low and smooth, and the sound almost makes your eyes flutter when he’s deliberately leaning closer, grazing his lips along yours as he breathes out another chuckle — his gaze dropping to your lips expectantly before they’re back on your own.

“good, right? better thank me.. yeah?”

4K notes · View notes

azsazz · 4 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,556

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Notes: This story is so healing to me 😌

_________________________________________

A deep thrumming rattling the walls shakes you from your sleep. It vibrates through your chest, the ardent bass and pounding drums reverberating in your bones. The timber of the singer’s words swims in your head, throat and low, and you’re unable to pluck the words and make sense of them this early in the morning.

You blink once. Twice. Your eyelids feel like sandpaper and your head is stuffed with tiredness, a sharp pain settled behind your eyes despite the darkness of your room.

Night licks the walls, and you groan, rolling over. Shoving your pillow over your head, it does little to block the disruption coming from the other side of the wall. You don't know what time it is. If it is still night, it’s either too early, or too late.

Which means that the sounds on the other side of the wall have to be one of those rowdy boys.

After moving the vehicle when ‘Azzy’—as the final boy so lovingly said it—had finally moved that death-trap of a ride, you were beginning to think that things were starting to finally look up for the rest of your first night in your apartment. He had been gone and his roommates’ party seemed to be winding down, if the three giggling, drunk girls on the elevator ride down were any sign. They’d been gushing about one of the roommates, Cassian, she’d said. Some of her brunette hair was disheveled in her ponytail, as if someone had tried to run their fingers through their hair, or had wrapped said hairstyle around their fist. Gag.

“He kept calling me baby,” she gushed to her friends, who were both squealing with excitement. You could hardly contain the desperate urge to roll your eyes at their annoyance, how they were openly talking about the lines of muscle cording his body or the length of his cock with a complete stranger inside this tiny metal box with them. It’s not as if they were whispering, and you’d cut a glance at the girl swooning over one of your rude neighbor’s appendage.

Her piercing green eyes were clouded and shiny with drink. Her cheeks pinkened with a blush that looked permanent. Her lush lips swollen and top button of her shirt still undone, she looked everything beautifully fucked.

Your mouth turned into a sour line, wondering which of the boys had been the one to claim her tonight.

With each passing day, the dilapidated elevator seemed to work slower and slower. As if it was your destiny to be stuck in the confines of this metal contraption with the worst possible people…or trapped outside of it, anyway.

Eventually, the doors had screeched open, but even the shrill noise didn’t deter the gossipping girls’ conversation. They stumbled out of the elevator with a cheerfulness only alcohol and dick could conjure, giggling their way down the quiet streets.

It was a miracle that you didn’t have a parking ticket clinging to the window of your rental. You’d moved it both easily and quickly, something you would’ve been able to do if that bastard Azzy had given you the damn space when you’d asked him to move his sleek motorcycle.

And of course, as you cursed his name for the umpteenth time of the night, he’d appeared.

Cloaked in a worn leather jacket that clung to the curve of every muscle, he’d shown up. There was a tight line to his mouth, deep eyes reflectant of the nighttime sky, caressed by equally dark, thick lashes. He nearly looked as tired as you felt, slight rings around his eyes. His helmet, that, when he shucked off pulled his hair up in the most perfect directions, even more so when he ran his gloved fingers through it with that damned smirk on his face.

He hadn’t let your gaze linger on the handsomeness of it as a streak of mischief streaking across his eyes like a star as he taunted you. Azzy’s tone was deep and dulcet, unexpected for the jeer falling from his lips. It took your tired mind to shear through the thoughts of that mouth and hook onto his words, and the asshole’s smile only widened when you scoffed and retaliated.

Oh, how he had gotten on your nerves.

Again.

And now this, music flowing through the wall at Mother knows what hour.

You’re so exhausted, you could cry. Your body is sore with the efforts of moving, mind a muddled mess. Tears prick the back of your eyes, tightening your sinuses as you grit your teeth, trying to contain them. If the fabric of your pillowcase wets with a drop, you would never admit it.

How has the day from hell somehow managed to turn into the night from hell too? What the fuck have you done to deserve this?

Even more so, how do the other roommates deal with this? Are they all awake and listening to the music, long bored after the party has died down? Or do they delight in the fact, knowing you are their neighbor and have already complained about the noise once. Why not bother you again, when any normal person would be asleep?

Frustration courses through your veins like a lance, hot and unforgiving. The rush has those tears leaking from the corners of your eyes and you push to your knees, channeling every ounce of burning hot ire and rotting tiredness into your fists, pounding them against the thin wall.

Your chest heaves, labored with irritation. You don’t smash your fists against the wall again, hoping that the once will have gotten your message across to the boy on the other side of the wall. There’s something that niggles at your brain, telling you that you know which one is fated to be on the other side of the plaster.

There is no response for one breath, two. Then, a thump as loud as your own, answers. Just one, like you had done to him. The music rings a touch louder, and it sounds nearly clear as day, like you’re standing in the front row to a rock concert.

Prick.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Sighing in frustration, you tear another sheet from your drawing pad, crumple it up with all of the pent up rage and annoyance, charging it with all of your ire. So much so, that you fear it might burst into flames. You want to tear it to shreds and stuff those tiny pieces of paper right up your douchebag of a neighbor's ass.

Instead, you throw the paper over your shoulder and let your head collapse in your hands.

Music pounds loudly through the earbuds you’d stuffed into your ears when it became clear that the raging music next door would not be turned down. You’d considered marching over there to give him a piece of your mind or punch a hole through this very wall, but instead opted to blare music so loudly you can’t make out the lyrics.

Art had been your next attempt at blowing off some of the steam turning your cheeks red. You’d pulled out the well-worn sketchbook from your bag, along with the colored pencils you always had stuffed in there, and attempted to allow your mind to unleash whatever it wanted across the creamy pages.

Except, everything that came out was trash. Lines heavy with exhaustion and anger, deep and dark, nearly tearing through the pages. You’d broken the tips on four of your pencils and couldn’t find the sharpener you swore you’d put in the front pocket of your bag.

It’s as if your body didn’t know what to draw. The beginnings of sketches quickly turned into shapes of madness and sleep-deprivation, things you couldn’t even make out. A bat that had turned into a gruesome image, flesh tearing from its bones. A cloaked figure atop of a black stallion that made your stomach clench. A few soft strokes of a pair of lips with an incredible smirk. Your shoulders had begun to loosen as you worked through this, but once you realized what you had begun sketching subconsciously, you’d torn away that page too.

And that had been the last page in your sketchbook, the black of the back cover taunting you, laughing at you.

It didn’t matter anyway, because your stomach had soured at the thought of your last attempt. You’d shoved yourself away from your desk, spine rigid and bones vibrating with tension. On one of the scrap papers you’d written a list of supplies to get while out shopping; pencil sharpener, new sketchbook, earplugs.

You’d even managed to unpack most of the boxes in your room before the sun had barely licked the sky. Terrible, you know, because you’ve only gotten a little more than an hour’s sleep since moving into this hell hole of an apartment. You curse Feyre’s sister, Nesta, who had claimed that this was her favorite place to live all the years she’d gone to school here.

At least you have been productive in the hours since.

Now, you’re trailing down the roads in town, headed to the small art supply store.

You’d waited until it was late enough for stores to be opening, and the town is quiet on this mildly sunny morning. You bask in it, shoving your earbuds into your pockets as you waltz, coffee in hand and fresh air coursing through your lungs.

You might’ve been able to fall asleep even with the sun peeking through your blinds, but you’d been determined to purchase the supplies you need for classes in a few days. Not even the sight of Azzy’s empty parking spot could turn you around.

Something you will probably regret later.

Feyre had been dead asleep by the time you left, and you figure someone should be getting sleep even if you can’t. At least, that’s how your thoughts are now, who knows how you’ll feel if this shit is a nightly occurrence. You might just have to persuade her to switch rooms with you.

The bell at the shop rings when you enter, but there’s no one at the counter to greet you. This, you don’t mind, because you aren’t in the mood to pretend like your morning hasn’t been one of the shittiest ones you’ve had in a long time, and you’re not even hungover. Whoever is on duty is probably stocking the shelves or something anyway.

Your gaze wanders around the store, stuffed full of art supplies. It’s heaven. Painted lined up by color, a rainbow bursting with life. There’s an entire aisle dedicated to sketchbooks and papers of all sorts, canvases larger than your body stacked against the back walls, spray paints, pencils, ink, carving tools, clay—any and all supplies for most artists can be found here, and that is no easy feat.

The scent of the store draws the tension from your shoulders, settling you to your core. You can feel the recharging of your creative energy, your artistic inspiration opening her eyes to take in the view.

Maybe you can talk to the owner and convince them to let you move in here.

You take your time, shuffling up and down the aisles, taking everything in for all its glory. Pristine tubes of paint, swollen like plump berries, not yet crusted with colors. Pencils with graphite of all weights and strengths. You pluck a new HB pencil from its container and slip it into your basket. And maybe you grab a few more.

A kneaded eraser is added after that, and ah-ha, the sharpener you need. A kit of watercolor pencils catches your eye, but you pass them up, instead heading to the sketchbook area, to linger in the scents of fresh paper.

There’s the shuffling of noise in another aisle, and you gather that it must be the associate on shift. Music begins playing through a speaker by the front, and it’s much less grating than the kind that had awoken you. The chill indie music fills the space with even more life, and combined with the streams of sunlight sliding in through the glass windows, you think your day may be starting to brighten.

You end up with three sketchbooks in your basket—a feat in itself not to choose one of each—and continue trapezing through the store. You pass by the sculpting section and pause for a moment, wondering if you should take a class. Then, at the thought of clay thick against your skin, caked under your nails and embedded into your clothes, you decide against it.

You grab a can of fixative for when you take your drawing class uses charcoals, another messy medium you don’t care for. You don’t like the feel of the dry chalk against your hands, sticking between the creases of your fingers. It takes forever to get out.

You may not know what type of art you want to stick with, but you know that those are out.

And there are so many different types of art to try that it’s almost overwhelming. Well, anything in your current state of fatigue is overwhelming, but you haven’t found the one thing that you can see yourself doing everyday. You don’t even have an artistic style yet, and you’re still fresh enough in college to take all of the classes you want to, weed out the areas of art you don’t care for and narrow down what you do like.

Surely, you’ll figure it all out. Someday.

You take the longest in the paint aisle. Tubes upon tubes of color scream at you, and you admire each one. From oils to acrylics, gouache to watercolors, it surely is the biggest section. Not to mention the plethora of brushes hanging above. You’d added a painting sketchbook to your cart, small enough for quick and simple paintings. You don’t want to put too much pressure on yourself yet, but you’ve always wanted to try it out.

Reds of all shades, ochres that remind you of autumn, phthalos and umbers and titanium white stare up at you, waiting for you to take them home, squeeze the life from them so their colors burst on your canvas. You gaze even snags on a unique color, and you lean closer to read the name: dioxazine purple.

You forgo that, instead grabbing a tube of the most important colors, colors you can mix together to create any other color on the spectrum. It’s almost like a super power, being able to mix such colors from only a few, and you love it.

After adding a few brushes to your basket, you head towards the front of the store to check out, halting in your tracks when you see who is behind the counter.

No, thankfully it isn’t Azzy, but it is one of his roommates.

He’s leaning against the counter, swiping through his phone. His dark hair looks surprisingly neat, brushed back with dampness still clinging to it from his morning shower. He’s clad in a black t-shirt that leaves a patchwork of tattoos on display. There’s an over-the-top cup of coffee on the counter that puts your simple one to shame. His posture exudes an effortless confidence, and when he looks up and catches sight of you, a dimple deepens in his cheek.

“Fancy seeing you here, neighbor.”

You bite back the groan at the base of your throat, moving closer. All you have to do is pay for your things and leave. You don’t have to talk to him outside of the necessary cashier talk, and maybe he won’t even try to taunt you.

Yeah, right.

“Hi,” you grit, placing your basket on the counter. He peers into it and you tense, feeling judged. You have no idea what kind of art he’s into, if he even is at all, but you don’t like him knowing this part of you, not when he and his roommates have been nothing but rude to you. It feels too personal.

His eyes flicker back to your face, taking you in, and the color reminds you shockingly of that tube of paint you were just looking at. You don’t balk from his assessment of you, taking in your tired eyes and the downturn of your mouth. You want him to stop looking at you and ring up your things, but instead, he smirks.

There goes your lighter mood.

Surprisingly, the first thing out of this one’s mouth isn’t a taunt. “How are you this morning, darling?”

Darling? That thought makes you want to grimace, but you swallow it down in favor of trying to get out of here without your state of mind plummeting further.

“Lovely,” you try for a smile, but it feels forced. His lips twitch higher as he clocks it as well. “And yourself?”

“Fantastic.”

You nod, pinning the sour remark to the roof of your mouth. Yes, I’m sure your party was just lovely, unlike my night of unrest.

Jerk.

“Right…” you trial off, eyes flicking down to your basket in an attempt to tell him to hurry the fuck up without so bluntly saying hurry the fuck up like you so devastatingly want to.

“First year here?”

“Second,” you answer flatly, praying he starts moving. The muscles of his arms flex where they’re on display, and he reaches into your basket, examining the first tube of paint he pulls out. Ochre.

Not for anything specific, maybe say, eyes.

“I’m a junior,” he replies, picking up the check out gun as slow as possible.

“I didn’t really ask.”

That mirth-filled gaze sweeps over you again and you try not to duck your head, to fight off the fire of both a blush at his attention and your irritation at his slowness.

“That’s right,” he muses, and the ring of the scanner going off makes you blink. “I’m Rhysand. I think we’ve met somewhere once.”

It’s what you’ve been waiting for, the teasing. How he’d answered the door after sensitive Azzy had and slammed it again in your face. You remember him perfectly.

“Are all three of you always this insufferable?” You ask, cutting to the chase. It’s a rhetoric question, one you already know the answer to, but he’s responding anyway.

“Most call it charm,” he shrugs, grinning.

You don’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“So, your roommate is pretty cute,” Rhys drawls, scanning another tube of paint. That’s two in the span of a minute. He should be fired for such things. You glance at the door, praying that his roommate doesn’t waltz right in, because that, you think, would mean that you actually have the worst luck ever. “She got a name?”

Your gaze cuts back to him, eyes narrowing. “Don’t we all?”

“And yet, I didn’t catch yours.” He cocks his head and flips another paint tube out of the basket.

You grit your name through clenched teeth, the grip on your coffee cup tightening. Your already thin patience is now threadbare. Only a few strings holding on to your sanity, but Rhysand is quickly sawing through.

“Nice name for a lovely girl, I’m sure,” he teases, but there’s nothing funny about it. These boys might be having their fun, but to you it was never something to laugh at, and the situation has only gotten worse. “And what’s your roommate's name?”

“Sorry, she’s not the secret fuck type,” you bite. Though, she might be, after her breakup with long-term boyfriend, Tamlin this summer.

Thankfully, your basket is nearly empty. You set your coffee on the counter, pulling your wallet from your purse in haste. The quicker you can pay and leave, the quicker you can hole back up in your apartment. Maybe take a nap on the couch.

“Trust me, darling. It wouldn’t be a secret.”

You can’t help but splutter the laugh that bubbles up your throat. You stare at him, incredulous. “That usually works, doesn’t it?”

His façade falters and you lift your chin with pride. Clearly, you’ve caught him off guard. “What?”

“The whole ‘darling’ thing. You just expect women to swoon at that, huh?” His smile is hesitant, and he takes the card you hold out to him. “That’s what I thought. Can I have my supplies now, darling?”

Rhysand takes your card without complaint, running your total. His mouth is set in a firm line now, shoulders tense. The aura in the entire shop has changed, but you don’t have the ability to care right now, itching to get away.

He hands you your card back and nearly shoves your bag off of the counter with a grumbled, “Az was right.”

It’s your turn to question him. “What?”

“You are grumpy.”

The hot sheath of ire is torn away. Your fingers curl into fists around the handle of your bag, the other around your coffee cup. The bite of heat only fuels the irritation sliding up your spine, and you are unable to keep the cadmium red staining your cheeks as you glare up at him.

“Tell me you’re shitting sunshine when you haven’t slept all night because of your roommate.” Rhys answering smirk is cutting, suggestive. It makes you blind with rage. Spinning on your heel, you shove yourself out the door before he can answer your anger with another sly remark.

Fucking assholes, all of them.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

#azriel acotar #azriel au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #art school au #acotar modern au #midnight muse

710 notes · View notes

forcheol · 6 months

Text

౨ৎ 3:37 AM — csc

synopsis you need to pee but there’s a slight issue… pairing seungcheol x reader genre fluff, timestamp note i just fucking miss this man so much. it’s 4:37am. i miss you, scoups :c word count 0.9k

you need to pee. like really bad. one small issue: there’s a thick & heavy arm over the middle of your torso which is making it difficult for you to move because if you just tried to push it off, you might wake the sleeping bear in human form next to you. aka, your boyfriend.

seungcheol’s fingers twitch a little from where they’re tucked between your body and the mattress, he always twitched a little when very deep in his sleep. you found it sort of…endearing, causing you to go absolutely heart-eyes at his sleeping form.

your boyfriend was a deep sleeper — especially when he’s had a long & tiring day — which is why you started contemplating whether you should just shove his arm off you & go pee or just forget about that option so that he doesn’t wake up with a pout (although you love to see it).

at first, you decided with the latter option & tried to fall back asleep…it didn’t work, the urge to relieve yourself intensified. so you decided to go with the other option. slowly placing your hands on seungcheol’s forearm, you push it away as carefully as you can in order to not wake him up. he stirs, mumbling a quiet ‘hm, cinnamon buns’ and a giggle begins to build in the back of your throat because is this man seriously dreaming about cinnamon buns? you might just have to go out & buy him some tomorrow.

nevertheless, you carry on with your mission. gently, you push his arm away inch by inch until it’s no longer resting on you but the tiny space between you & him.

the blanket, you slide it off your body & sneak out of your bed after slotting your feet into the fluffy cow slippers seungcheol bought for you (he saw you browsing them & ordered them secretly). mouthing a small ‘phew’ as you reach the bathroom, you quickly look back before shutting the door & doing what you came to do.

when you were done, you quickly slinked back to your & seungcheol’s bedroom to get back into bed. but you jump as soon as you turn around after closing the door because there’s seungcheol…sitting up against the headboard of your bed, with the comforter wrapping him up.

“why are you awake? did i wake you up? sorry, cherry, i didn’t mean to…” you voice out after gathering yourself.

“where did you go? it was warm but then all of a sudden it got cold” his voice was heavy & thick with sleep. you walked closer & he lifted a corner of the comforter, giving you access to get under the covers.

“i just went to the bathroom, cherry, and i didn’t wanna wake you,” you replied, “come on, let’s get back to sleep.”

“mm, s’okay. just missed holding you in my arms”, he pulls you down into his embrace & burying his nose into your hair.

“you were holding onto me so tight, you know. and i needed to pee so bad but i thought ‘leave it, i’ll pee in the morning’ and then you tightened your hold on me, you monster!” with fake annoyance in your voice, you nudged him a little & watched as a lazy smile appeared on his face, dimples peeking out faintly. you adored his dimples, loved seeing them, too.

“sorry, baby, just wanted to hold you…” his body became lax in your reciprocating hold the more you snuggled into him, “but, baby, why do you keep calling me cherry?”

“hm? you don’t like it? okay, let’s try somethi—”

“no! i mean, no, i didn’t say that…just answer the question.” your left brow goes up as you stare at him with amusement.

“okay. well, i don’t know, it just came to my head. maybe it’s because of your cute lips, cherry coloured and cherry flavoured. they’re just so pretty, i just wanna kiss you all the time!” your pointer finger goes to poke his plush lips & his pout reappears once more.

“and that pout! you’re so” you pinch his cheeks with your pointer finger & thumb, “so adorable, my silly cherry!” now, you pull and squish his cheeks. a giggle falls from his squished lips & it’s contagious. his laugh is so beautiful & contagious, it makes you laugh too.

“hm, if they’re so pretty to you then why don’t you kiss them?” he says slowly while stopping your finger & thumb from pinching any further while moving closer to you. you pretend to think it over before giving him a sweet kiss on the very lips you love & adore, pulling away with a ‘mwah!’.

seungcheol loves it when you do that. he loves dearly the random yet fitting nicknames you give him, the warmth you give him on a cold & rainy day, the hugs you give him after trudging up behind him on a lazy sunday morning, watching him cook scrambled eggs — just the way you like them. seungcheol loves you.

seungcheol lets out a yawn and moves closer to you — if that’s possible, given how close he was to you already.

“m’ sleepy ‘nd warm now, let’s sleep.” he says quietly, replacing that same arm around your torso that got you into this cutesy situation.

“goodnight, my silly cherry.” you kiss his forehead and bring your head back down to his chest. his heartbeat is fast, it makes you smile knowing you can still do that to him.

“mm, night night, my silly girl.”

author’s note: no this not me self indulging, what are you talking about??? sigh i just wanna be his silly girl, cooped up in his arms in our bed on a rainy day while we watch a movie we took 15 minutes to pick. i miss him. a lot. like more than i can explain through text. my cherry :(

btw i actually needed to pee & then thought of this & bam. this happened. I MISS HIM wanna kiss his cheeks & cute lips so bad & wanna hug him sm.

#hani writes!#hani writes: csc #hani writes: svt #caratsland #scoups i miss you soooooo much #come back healthy and strong my cherry #seventeen fluff #scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen imagines

941 notes · View notes

seeker-of-stories19 · 3 months

Text

Autistic Ghost Headcannons

- Intentionally ignores social cues

- Scowls all the time at everything and everyone but usually not on purpose

- Takes full advantage of his ear defenders and balaclava to avoid sensory experiences he dislikes

- Incredibly restrictive eating, often chooses to go hungry rather than touch something he dislikes

- One of his favorite stims is smelling Soaps hair

- Gets overstimulated by certain things but is also very sensory seeking in other ways

- Wears tight gloves and sleeps under four weighted blankets because he likes the pressure

- Stims by making a tight fist, chewing his lips, scratching, hitting himself, leaning against things, rocking, pacing, rubbing the seam of his balaclava, tapping his ear defenders

- One track mind, he hates switching tasks and never does more than one thing at once unless it’s a hundred percent necessary

- Wears a mask largely to hide his scars and identity but it has the added benefit of keeping him from having to worry about making the correct facial expressions

- Very prone to dissociation

- Violent meltdowns, tends to have a vicious temper and destroy everything around him, hurting himself or anyone else unfortunate enough to cross his warpath

- But eventually when he’s in private he ends up just curling into himself and crying and rocking like he did as a kid

- It makes him feel incredibly vulnerable and he goes to extreme lengths to avoid the meltdowns which is a huge part of why they’re so bad

- Only Johnny and sometimes Price can calm him down

- Everyone else just thinks he has an explosive temper for no reason

- Ties his boots dangerously tight to get more sensory input

- Thrives under military routines but ignores rules that don’t make sense

- This definitely caused problems with COs in the past but Price is way more understanding and generally the 141 gets a lot of leniency on rules because of the type of work they do and the specific value of their skill sets

- Soap sleeps on top of him and always squeezes his hand a little too hard

- Hides in his room when overstimulated and shuts down completely, will literally disassociate for hours until Soap finds him

- Obsessively neat, nothing is ever anywhere other than where it’s supposed to be

- Doesn’t mind loud sounds but hates multiple sounds at once

- Explosions and gunfire are usually fine as long as he has his headphones but people talking and eating all at once in the mess makes him want to cry

- Absolutely despises crowds and will get very agitated and pissed off before eventually checking out until Johnny can get him back to a quiet space

- Soap letting him have the best vantage point when they go out because of how bad Simons PTSD and sensory issues are and he trusts Simon to watch his six

- Drinks but never to the point of being drunk

- Has the shittiest temperature regulation ever, gets so overheated but can’t figure out why and would freeze to death if it wasn’t for Soap making him put on layers because he’s basically immune to the cold

- Other than keeping his space clean which is mostly because it’s been beaten into him by his dad and then the army to the point where having a messy space will send him into a panic attack he’s a disaster. He never remembers to bring his dishes over to the tiny kitchen in the 141s rec room and routinely stares at things for days unable to complete simple tasks until he gets so pissed he ends up crying

- Price used to get annoyed by it and they’ve all three harassed him about it but once they realize that he’s genuinely struggling all three of them step in to make things easier for him, helping clean up his stuff in common spaces and wash dishes

- Soap definitely helps him with his laundry but only at 3am when he suddenly has the urge to do his own because ADHD

- His interoception is appalling, he’ll be furious and yell at recruits or just look at people like he wants to kill them on missions until Johnny leans over to subtly remind him that he hasn’t gone to the bathroom or eaten anything in eight hours

- Is fluent in BSL and uses it to communicate with Price when he’s in a verbal shutdown

- Soap and Gaz ask Price to teach them secretly and when they start signing to Ghost one day he’s absolutely shocked

- Generally he gets by with everyone else by grunting and scowling, people are too scared of him to call him out

- Most of his masking relies on peoples fear of him even though it often makes him feel even less human and it’s a vicious downward spiral

- Soap not being afraid of him was a really big deal because of this but also lead to him being really freaked out and unsure how to handle his prying

- Soap just finds him impossibly endearing and loves all the hidden little movements and noises he makes when they’re alone

- Lets Simon use his hands to fidget under the table during meetings

- Even though Soap isn’t the best at social cues himself he takes up explaining things to Ghost subtly whenever he can

- When Simon comes to his room to ask him about something someone said for the first time he’s ecstatic and considers it a great victory

- While a lot of Simons stims are more subtle or at least misinterpreted Soap will absolutely get hyped up when he’s stimming and start jumping or rocking or flapping his hands eagerly

- Soap sends him adhd x autism memes all the time and encourages Ghost to send back anything that interests him even if he thinks Soap won’t like it

- Is shocked to realize how strong Ghosts special interests are as his phone turns into a constant flood of articles and artwork about things Ghost loves

- Included but not limited to guns, puzzles, animal anatomy and bones, flowers (specifically the meanings of flowers) and many others

- Taking things apart and putting them back together, usually his rifle but will generally do it with everything from pens to knives

- Hoards weird things like old ink cartridges and bullet casings

- Has an unbelievable memory for details of old missions, can remember building layouts from over five years ago

- Soap’s room is so chaotic they barely spend time there because of how much it stresses Ghost out

- Generally they just balance each other out well with Simon being aggressively introverted and Soap being just as extroverted

- He pushes Simon a bit outside of his comfort zone and helps him socialize while Ghost reigns him in

- No one else really gets how they operate in the field except each other

- Soap was professionally diagnosed in school while Ghost was professionally diagnosed after Roba under a fake name with Price’s help so it’s not officially on his military record

- Ghost is actually very okay with how his brain works because it’s made him who he is and allowed him to surpass the regular limitations of a soldier

- He struggles more in his personal life but being around Soap heals a deep part of him that he’s buried since early childhood

- They understand each other like no one else ever has

#autistic simon ghost riley #soap mctavish has adhd #call of duty #soapghost headcannons #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod mw2 #soap cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

326 notes · View notes

partycatty · 15 days

Text

older!johnny cage > listen up

you just can't seem to follow orders, so johnny explains them loud and clear... :3

warnings: you're a dilf obsessed freak and you get yelled at idk, he's meaner than usual, idk how the military works

[ masterlist ]

• lieutenant cage was, at the best of times, a strong advisor and wise man.

• at his worst of times, he's barking orders at the squad like a pack of dogs, not that you'd complain if he forced you to all fours, if we're all being honest here.

• some bat out of netherrealm must've pissed in his coffee this morning, and johnny was making it everyone's problem by forcibly refreshing everyone on basic commands. you wonder if it was just an excuse for him to yell his frustration away.

• "fall in!" his booming voice startles you from your trance and you're snapped back to your position, you and other recruits standing in front of johnny in dead-still positions.

• "ten-hut!" he calls, and your back snaps straight. you groan to yourself at the sudden movement, and lieutenant cage catches the sound. his head snaps toward you with a scowl. "no complaining or we're here til sundown, is that clear?!"

• "yes, sir!" your voice can only boom as much, far less trained in the art of... yelling at people.

• cage rattles on about something regarding everyone not knowing their lefts and rights, and decides everyone is deserving of a refresher. so, he stands with his hands behind his back.

• "left face!" you pivot instantly, the choir of shuffling around you moves with you like a strict ocean. "right face!" you return to your previous position with your stick-up-your-ass military posture.

• he barks the directions out in rapid succession, the crowd following it seamlessly... except for you. maybe you didn't get enough sleep, or maybe johnny's cruel voice was making you dizzier than the pivoting was. you stumbled over yourself, a beat behind the rest.

• you stood out like a sore thumb as much as you wished to blend in out of embarrassment. your wonky timing was painfully obvious against the crowd, and johnny let out a loud groan, ripping his sunglasses from his face.

• "christ on a bike," he grumbles, uttering your last name. "are you gonna follow orders or sit there like an idiot?"

• your lips shut tight, eyes forward as johnny stomps up, nearly brushing his chest in your face. his breathing stutters, and you fight every urge to not look up into his eyes.

• "you don't know how to listen, do you?" he growls, nearly speaking into the top of your head. "wasting my god damn time."

• "sorry, sir," your voice shrinks in your throat, which apparently deeply offends johnny today.

• his hand flies to your jaw, holding somewhere between your neck and your jaw as he tilts your head up, applying pressure as the sides of your vision blur out.

• "you're gonna speak loud and clear to me when you answer me, is that clear?" his voice teeters between a whisper and growl, eyes darting between yours.

• you wanted to be scared, you wanted to be compliant and listen to his order, but his hand was literally on your neck. this flustered you, embarrassingly easy and words were almost impossible. your vision spaces out, eyes wandering as you try to ground yourself.

• johnny tugs at your face, drawing your attention back. "look at me when i speak to you."

• "yes, sir," you choke out, a little clearer this time.

• his brows furrow for a moment, lip twitching in a dubious expression you'd never seen on his aged face before. "you're gonna be the death of me."

• you don't even get a moment to contemplate his curious choice of words, as his hand pulls away from your face and he spins on his heel, retreating to his previous position.

• he barks that everyone is starting over because of you and a quiet wave of sighs and shuffles heat your face. it was already mortifying to be humiliated in front of your squad, but you were berated by none other than your dilfy work crush... your boss. maybe you could curl up into a ball and die here and now.

• after a few hours of stupid, repetitive training you want to do nothing more than rot in your bed, ignoring the pissed looks of your colleagues. just as you're about the exit the room, a hand shoots out to squeeze at your wrist, nearly dragging you backward from the unexpected force.

• a firm voice states your last name, and you instantly recognize it as your very upset boss. you swallow thickly and try to put on your best neutral expression as you turn to face him.

• "my office," he says, though it doesn't sound like a request and more like a command. "now."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

151 notes · View notes

astroboots · 9 months

Text

Issue #11

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel brings you gifts.

Word count: 3,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Stark’s courier service arrives at your hotel the following day, a crew of four brawny looking men dressed in overalls, carrying in some 13 boxes of equipment, which take up the majority of the floor space of your luxury suite.

It finds residence in the seating area of the hotel room. Fancy looking gadgets of shiny chrome and colorful LED lights that look like they were stolen from the movie set of Back to the Future.

Miguel sets up shop, turning the pink girly vanity dressing table into an impromptu workbench. It’s where he’s been seated most of the last 36 hours, hunched over the tiny little table tinkering with the watch and various futuristic looking mechanical gears at all hours of the night.

The laser scalpel he’s using might be soundless, but Miguel sure isn’t. Last night, you’d been constantly woken up by his growling as he trashes another expensive looking tool with an angry growl. Pacing the room for a few minutes, mumbling and complaining about the cheap quality of Stark tech and how primitive this world is. Then he's right back at it, sitting back down on the little pink velvet ottoman to continue tinkering.

Tonight is no different. You’re in bed, scrolling your phone to unwind before going to sleep, when you hear him grumble again then stab the laser scalpel into the surface of the table.

Peeling off the fluffy comfortable quilt wrapped around you, you make your way over to him before he destroys any more fancy furniture you can never dream of affording to replace on your modest salary.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, as you stand behind him.

“Bastard’s tagged the thing with a receptor that feeds information about any modifications made back to him. It’s booby trapped so that if I try to remove it, the whole thing will disintegrate.”

You lean over to peer at the desk over his shoulder, observing the arc reactor that's pulsing like a beating heart with a glow of blue.

“Does it matter? Let him have your technology.”

In the reflection of the vanity mirror, you can see the small muscle in his jaw tic with irritation.

“No,” he says flatly, picking up the scalpel again from where it’s wedged into the table. “We can’t risk him getting a hold of inter-dimensional technology. I don’t want Stark to be able to locate and come after you.”

Oh Jesus, not this again.

“I already told you, I’m not interested in Tony Stark." You resist the urge to roll your eyes at part two of Miguel's unwarranted jealousy feud with Stark. Didn’t the two of you have a heartfelt conversation about this?

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He's grinding down on his jaw with irritated anger at whatever it is he’s thinking but not sharing with you. “We can’t trust him.”

“He’s a superhero, Miguel, just like you. If we can't trust him, then I don't know who we can trust.”

Miguel's mouth pulls into a grim and tight line at your words. For a brief moment, you think you catch a hint of fear on his face, before he breaks eye contact and turns away, back towards the bench. It takes you by surprise because you didn’t think Miguel was scared of anything.

“Tony Stark is one of the good guys,” you try again.

You rest a hand on the edge of his shoulder, trying to help placate his unease. “He’s an Avenger, remember? It's their job to protect the world.”

It dawns on you when you hear the words from your own mouth. The reason why he doesn’t want Tony Stark to be able to keep tabs on you and come after you.

The Avengers are meant to protect the world from any threats, and right now one of the greatest threats to this world is… you.

“Oh,” the tiny sound punches out of you as a yawning pit of uncertainty and fear opens up in your stomach.

One in every 40 New Yorkers will have a run-in with Superhero in their time in the city.

You've just always thought that, if your turn to encounter the Avengers came, it would be as a grateful civilian saved from the clutches of evil. You never thought it would be because you were the danger the world needed saving from.

Miguel must sense the moment the realization hits you, because he sets aside his tools and takes your hand, gently stroking the palm of it with his thumb.

"You have nothing to worry about, it’s just going to take some time," he murmurs, and he looks up at you with such warmth it makes the anxiety in you thaw slightly. "I'll be done with it soon.”

He eyes the arc reactor, not letting go of your hand. "Try to get some sleep."

You fall asleep to the white noise of tinkering metal and Miguel’s frustrated murmured curses. The noises should annoy you, but they don't. You find it oddly comforting, being able to hear Miguel move around in the same room as you when you’re in bed. Know with every fiber of your being that his presence means you're safe and easily drift fast asleep.

You don't know how long you stay asleep for or how much sleep you manage to catch before you feel the bed dip beside you.

"Hey," a voice softly cajoles you. There's a warm palm on your shoulder, gently nudging you awake. But you're not prepared to wake yet. Too comfortable in the haze of sleep to give it up.

You bury your head into the pillow, hoping to shut out any interference that's trying to keep you from your sleep.

"Cielito," the gentle voice tries again. "Wake up."

Grumpily and with great resistance, you strain to turn your head, squinting your eyes awake to see Miguel's face filling your vision.

It’s dark in here save for a small lamp left on in the far off corner. In this muted light, his scarlet eyes are illuminated with an otherworldly brilliance. If you had been more awake, you would have wanted to take a second or two to marvel at how beautiful they are.

"I got something for you," he says.

There’s a barely contained eagerness in his voice as he speaks, and sleepy as you are, it peaks your interest. You blink your eyes properly open, adjusting to the dim dark to see two small boxes set next to your pillow.

"Miguel, it's..." you flick your wrist towards you, when you remember the watch is no longer there. It’s odd how naked you feel without Lyla as your constant companion on your wrist.

You awkwardly prop yourself up on an elbow with great effort to figure out time the old fashioned way, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

In a bright glaring LED, the digits announce: 01:00.

Past midnight?! Has he lost his mind?

"It's one in the morning! Why are you waking me up after midnight!?"

Unbothered by your outrage, he continues to lean across you to drag one of the boxes closer.

"I'm finally done modifying the parallel universe traversal device, so I got you something to celebrate."

You blink up at him in surprise. When he said he’d be done soon, you didn’t think he meant tonight.

“It’s from that place you wanted Stark to take you," he says, opening the box one-handed to reveal a gaudy looking golden donut waiting for you.

Then he drags the second box over, setting it next to the first and flips the lid open. Inside are half a dozen cinnamon-sugared donuts.

"And these are regular old donuts, from the Lower East Side for fifty cents each. We can do a comparison test. If that ugly golden donut is tastier, I’ll chop off my arm.”

You snort out a laugh. His one-sided feud with Tony Stark is alive and well you see. You don’t understand why this has become such a point of contention for him. Stark had never actually suggested he was going to get you golden donuts.

Before you have the chance to dig in, Miguel puts out his hand, palm up, on the mattress in invitation. "Give me your hand first," he instructs.

You oblige him, placing your hand in the middle of his, and he wraps the familiar watch around your wrist. Except it’s not as familiar as you remember it to be. It’s considerably chunkier now to accommodate Stark's arc reactor that sits in the middle and if anything it looks more like a cuff bracelet than a watch.

But you don’t mind, you’re glad to have the comforting weight of it back on your arm, wrist no longer feeling quite so naked.

“It’s bulkier than I would’ve liked. But there’s no helping how primitive Stark’s tech is,” Miguel snarks, clearly pleased with himself even though the man he’s bitching about isn’t even in the room to hear his clever insults.

In the gloomy light, the bright blue gem of the arc reactor shines back at you like a precious jewel. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were wearing jewelry fit for royalty.

"I like this upgrade on the watch. It’s pretty.”

"Not a watch," Miguel corrects, but he's not scolding you. The fondness in his voice is plainly there.

Looking up you meet his eyes to see the open affection that's there for you. Your face warms under his unwavering attention, until you have to duck your head down, unable to hold his gaze anymore.

You reach over the bed, to busy yourself, bypassing the golden donut to pick up one of the plain cinnamon ones. In the corner of your eye, you catch his lips curve into a smile as you take a large bite of the regular-non-golden donut.

He would gloat about that, wouldn’t he, the overgrown childish brat. You grin around the mouthful, as the sugar melts onto the tip of your tongue and you moan loudly at the perfect warm cinnamon that floods your senses.

Miguel is still smiling at you warmly, face propped in his broad hand as he watches you eat, and the heat in your face reaches an almost feverish pitch under his gaze.

"So what's next?" you force yourself to ask him over a muffled mouthful to distract yourself.

"Get some rest, sleep in. We'll take this for a few test drives in the morning to make sure it works the way it's supposed to, and then I'll take you to my home world."

There's a jittery sensation. A mix of exhilaration, excitement and anxiety blending with the sugar in your stomach at the unknown that waits before you. Even though you knew this day was coming since your visit at Wong, now that the time has come you're nervous.

The only world you’ve ever known is your own. You’re hardly an intrepid traveler. During your gap year in Europe, the use of the metric system was a culture shock for you. You can't even begin to imagine what it'll be like to travel to another alternate reality.

But you’re going to have to do it—and keep doing it, if Wong is correct.

Will you need to get a whole new wardrobe to fit in with the fashion trends of each universe? Will you have to learn new languages? Will there be a thousand sets of unfamiliar customs and quirks you’ll have to learn to adapt to?

…Will Miguel be there for any of it?

Biting down on your lip, you try to stave off the tight knot in your stomach.

One thing that's become clear is that even if Miguel takes you to his world, you won’t be able to stay there for very long. You aren’t going to be able to stay anywhere for very long.

Even if he intends to give you Lyla for good or build you another device that allows you to jump from world to world... what then?

Will he come with you?

Or will you be left to travel by yourself from one unknown world to another?

The loneliness of that fate makes your stomach hurt. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you want him to come with you more than anything, but you have no right to ask that of him. Not after everything he’s already done for you.

Like he can read your mind, Miguel gives you an appraising look.

"Once we're in Nueva York, we'll stay there for as long as it's safe," Miguel says, leaning across your lap to snag a donut from the box next to you for himself, and you try to ignore the heat that goes skittering through your leg when his arm brushes past your knee. "Then we'll jump to the next location."

You watch him scarf the cinnamony treat down in two mouthfuls, barely chewing. Your heart leaps excitedly until it jumps all the way to your throat.

"We?"

He grins, crumbs of caramelized sugar dotted on the curve of his lips. "I can't leave you by yourself, can I?"

Your mouth opens and closes, then opens again and you leave it there, hanging in the air, probably looking incredibly dumb and speechless.

You don’t know what to say to him. Don’t think there are adequate words in the English dictionary capable of expressing how happy it makes you to know that you’ll have him by your side. 'Thank you' seems incredibly lacking.

Somehow despite that you are both sitting down, he still dwarfs you and from your seated position you barely come up to his shoulders. You don’t quite know why you do it, but you move before you think, getting to your knees to lean up and place a small kiss on his cheek.

A faint pink tinges his cheeks at the small contact. Then it’s his turn to duck down. He scoots over, bringing the smaller donut box closer to you.

"Eat your golden donut," he says.

You peer up at him. The way his mouth pulls into a tiny and almost shy smile, and happiness buzzes in your chest at the sight.

A dopey smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch him. The way he rubs one broad hand over his jaw to hide his reddening face from you.

Taking the box from him, you look down at the shiny pastry. If your words are failing you, maybe food can speak for you instead. You pick up the golden donut in your hand and hold it out to him.

“You go first,” you offer.

There’s not a second of hesitation from Miguel. He leans down and takes a large bite of the gilded pastry, fangs first, puncturing the soft, squishy dough.

The whole thing bursts, and you squeal with laughter as the champagne flavored jelly filling squirts across his bottom lip, onto your fingers and drips onto the sheets below.

“Miguel, you’re making a complete mess!”

You lick up the sticky jam from your fingers as you watch him. There’s dust of gold smudging against his cheeks and even on his nose as he takes another bite. You’re tittering with amusement at the sight of him.

“Here you got some–” you bring your thumb to help him wipe at the corner of his mouth.

For a man who doesn’t like casual touches, sneering even at the idea of handshakes as a greeting at work, he doesn’t seem to mind yours.

Miguel lets you rub off the flecks of gold from his cheek, eyes dropping half-closed in contentment. His jaw moves under your hand as his mouth drops open, then he presses his lips to the inside of your palm.

It’s a barely there touch, but it has warmth furl from the middle of your stomach and blooms outward, spreading to the rest of you.

In this gigantic Wyoming king-sized bed, Miguel is seated close enough to you that your knees touch. He’s close. So close that you can feel the heat rolling off of his big body.

Somehow that's not close enough, because you close the remaining distance between you, until your knee is pressed against the firm inside of his thigh, his broad shoulders brush against yours.

It wouldn’t take much now. If you leaned up at this moment. If you tilted your head upwards even slightly. Your lips would be on his.

You shouldn’t, the small voice in your head warns. Kissing him is probably not a good idea.

He might not feel the same. Kissing him might change something irreparably between you, and then who will you travel the outer limits of the universe with?

But... if you're going to die tomorrow or the next day or next week, then what does it all matter anyhow? What’s a little bit of rejection when the end of the world is hiding right behind the next corner.

You tilt up and press your lips to his top lip, then the full lower one. It’s chaste and brief, and only lasts for a second. But for a first time it’s familiar and intimate in a way that it can only be with you and Miguel.

His lips are warm and dry and slightly open under the press of yours and it sends a fluttering warmth from the tip of your nose to the end of your fingertips.

You pull back with the tiniest movement, nose still brushing against his, as you gather the courage to look up at his face and try to find out if you just made a terrible mistake.

Those scarlet eyes are staring down at you in that familiar way you catch him doing sometimes. When he thinks you're not paying attention to him and his eyes lingers on your face.

His thumb catches behind your ear, face inching closer, and then he’s kissing you back. It’s sweet and electric, the sensation surges through you with a giddiness that makes your toes curl.

Miguel presses his lips to yours and holds you there. Long consecutive kisses that don't let you pull up for air. His other hand gently cups your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheeks like you’re the most precious thing his big hands has ever held.

You want this to last, that it could always be like this. You want it to be you and him.

This man who brings you cupcakes when you’re crying. Who saves you the best portion of the food that he likes even though he’s a glutton. Who folds you paper flowers and leaves them on your desk to make you smile when you’re having a bad day at work. A man who stays by your side through the end of the world and never asks you for anything in return.

You love him.

One large hand covers the back of your neck. He tilts you back, like he’s trying to shield and protect you as he holds you. Holds you like he’s never going to let go.

Then he stops.

Why is he stopping?

He stiffens above you, the whole of his back tensing. You chase his lips but he is already pulling back and away from you.

Your eyes open to the muted darkness of the room.

In front of you, Miguel is looking at you with an expression you can't pin down. Eyes wide, and distracted. For a terrifying moment, you think that the look on his face is one of regret.

Maybe he realized he doesn’t feel that way about you after all. Maybe he's trying to find a way to let you down gently.

You pull back and study his face.

No… it’s not that.

His expression is the same distant look he had two seconds before a helicopter crashed into your apartment. The same tension in his eyes that will have him hauling you into his arms to protect you from a rogue vehicle. The same pinch in his brow when he’ll stop a conversation with you mid-sentence because the ceiling is about to cave in and he needs to push you out of harm’s way.

Something is wrong.

A cold sliver of fear crawls up your spine as Miguel’s face turns, and he stares into the empty space of the room beyond the bed.

There’s speck of pink spilling onto the sheets on your lap like the color of the sun on stained glass from the outside.

You follow his gaze in the direction of the radiant dusk pouring in from the window.

It’s too bright for one A.M, enough to be blinding.

Pulling away the quilt from your body, you slide out of bed and walk towards the brightness pouring in from the outside until you’re standing in front of the wide glass panes of the balcony.

You look up at the sky, and it’s not the familiar calm midnight-blue. There are vivid streaks of fluorescent pink and glowing purple staining the sky. There are fractures in the sky like someone took a sledge hammer to it and cracked it wide open.

The cityscape looks like it is folding onto itself. Skyscrapers, bridges, and streets are contorted and warped like badly-folded origami. The impossible architecture reminds you of a M.C Escher painting you saw on a school trip at MoMA as a child.

Outside, the pavements of New York is mirrored where the sky is supposed to be. Silhouettes of skyscrapers spring out from below and above and the vast sky is wedged between. Up is down and down is up and nothing makes sense anymore.

You've seen this scene take place before, when you were under Wong's multidimensional spell.

Your universe is starting to collapse.

The end of the world is here. You’ve officially run out of time.

~ Next Issue

Dedications & Credits:

To @guruan for her endless kindness and incredibly talented. I cannot thank her enough for the art she gifts me with that constantly inspires my little squirrel brain and drives me to write like I am possessed.

And @thirstworldproblemss my babe, my bestie, my moose! Thank you for always being there with your pretty face!! I adore and love you, our friendship and time together brings me endless joy. Thank you for going on this ride with me.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #marvel #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #marvel mcu #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

758 notes · View notes

shoyoist · 2 years

Text

content: fem!reader. pussy eating + fingering. somno, but not exactly. overstimulation, implied multiple orgasms. listen up everyone shin eats pussy for his own pleasure <33

— . ｡˚ �� shinichiro wakes you up at 00:00 on the first of August, hungry for his birthday present.

"angel," the muffled, sleep-heavy rasp of shinichiro's voice coaxes you away from your sleep, and your eyes flutter open slowly as you feel the pull of his arms around your thighs.

"what—" your mouth opens to ask him if something's wrong, but what escapes your parted lips instead is a gasp of pleasure, when you feel his fingers pull at the folds of your pussy, your legs already spread and thrown over his shoulders as he leans in and places a chaste kiss right on your clit. "shin!"

"g'mornin', love." he mumbles, lips pressed to your cunt. the space between your legs feels slick, sticky — and you're not sure if that's just his tongue, or if he's been palming and playing with your body already, causing you to react to him unconsciously. "guess what day it is today?"

"'s y-your birthday." you mumble, eyes hazily searching for the clock on the table beside the bed, and they open wider when you see that it's barely two minutes past midnight. "baby, it's not even morning yet. why—"

"want my present." he slurs into your pussy, and any reply that was forming in your head is wiped clean when he sticks his tongue into your hole, drinking up the wetness that leaks out of you. "didn't wanna wait."

your mind is cloudy with sleep, barely awake.

but the pleasure that sparks up your spine and within the coil in your stomach when his lips press into your clit, deft fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he grips them tighter, urging you to wrap them around his head as he delves deeper into your cunt — it's electrifying.

when you look down, you see the dark mess of short, black hair bobbing between your legs as he eats your cunt all up, sending shivers crawling through you with each flick of his warm tongue between your folds.

"so fuckin' good, angel." he grunts, low and husky as he takes hold of the back of your thigh and pushes your leg further up, allowing himself more room. "y'taste so good."

a flustered whimper is all you can manage in reply, as he presses you into the bed and devours you, letting out the neediest groans right into your cunt, your body shaking with each word he says. "make some pretty sounds f'me? need ta hear you."

he says it like he isn't just going to wrap his lips around your clit and suck the moans out of you himself, but you open your mouth anyway, letting out a sleepy plea for him to go just a little faster with his tongue, telling him to take you to his heart's content.

"'s my good girl," he breathes, the words hot and heavy over your skin as he turns his face and gives you a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh. "my only girl, yeah?"

"mhm," you whine, hips jerking as he dives back into eating you out, the orgasm building within you so fast it makes you dizzy.

"my one 'n only girl g'nna let me," he exhales, licking a thick line from your clenching pussy to your throbbing clit. "let me fill her up? gonna let me make her cum as many times as i want, 'n then fuck her full of my cum?"

"yes," you moan. there's no other answer to give, not when it feels so amazing and when it's your sweet, doting boyfriend's birthday and this is all he wants to have from you.

"good girl." he repeats, and with the next hot kiss he lands on your clit, your orgasm crashes down on you, and your breath catches in your throat as you cry out, asking for his fingers, wanting him to curl them into your tight, fluttering walls as you reach your high.

he does as you say — but you can barely hear his praising whispers as he pushes two fingers, and then three, into your squelching pussy and fucks you with them. each wave that washes over you is one of pure bliss, and your vision goes bright with stars as you gasp out shinichiro's name again and again, unable to say anything else.

"fuck, my doll's the prettiest when she's cumming." he says, and you think he's done, that he's going to let you come down from your high and then put his cock in you — but then, his arms wrap tighter around your hips.

shinichiro pulls you back in, and fits his tongue in your cunt again. "mm, keep goin', angel. keep makin' those pretty sounds."

you grab at the blanket that's under you, curling your fingers into a fist and letting your other hand crawl between your legs so you can push him away, ask for a few minutes in between before he fucks you again. "wait, wait, shin—"

"no," he says bluntly, tongue lapping at the slick as it drools out of your cunt. "taste so good like this, baby. let me have you."

the spike of pleasure that courses through you when his lips tighten around your wet clit almost stings, this time — and when you squirm in his unrelenting embrace, an incoherent moan spilling from your throat, you know he's enjoying this so much.

he loves when you squirm helplessly in his hold, coming undone over and over again by his needy mouth — he loves pushing you to heaven like this. gets drunk off it.

and you can't help but think of his cock — hot, leaky and blushed red under his sweats as he grinds against the mattress, so ready to force its way into your tight, sticky heat and stuff you full of his cum.

that'll have to wait, though. because what shin wants for his birthday is to have you as his first meal, and he's not going to move onto anything else till his hunger has been quenched.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#shinichiro smut #shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr x reader #tr fluff #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro drabbles #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #sano shinichiro smut #shinichiro sano smut #tokyo revengers x you #shinichiro x you

6K notes · View notes

barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

mary on a cross - the unforgiven

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

-warnings: mdni (18+), violence, death, smut, unprotected pinv, creampie, blowjob, mention of scars & alcohol, oral (fem rec)

-word count: 5.5k

-summary: you and simon take a break from the chaos of the pub

prev chapter masterlist

a/n: okay idk why this took me forever to write but it's done, not proofread

You reach for him in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open as the feeling of the space beside you being empty, you reach for the sheets, pulling them to your face and inhaling his scent. The room is bright when you finally wake, the large windows illuminating the space, breathing life into the room.

You glance around looking for him, your eyes catching the clock beside the bed, it was around 8am, you drag yourself from the bed, pulling the blanket around you as you stumble across the floors. You call out for him a few times but there’s no answer, nearing the other side of the flat you can hear shuffling downstairs.

You make your way down the stairs, your blanket tucked tight around you, keeping you warm as the sounds of the men fill your ears.

“Morning lass” Johnny gives a whistle as he eyes your form, bare legs and hair a mess from your sleep, your cheeks blush at his comment, Simon peeking around the corner.

“Hey sorry, didn’t want to wake you” His arm snakes behind your back and he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

“S’okay, what’s goin on?”

“Stopped by for some coffee”

“Tea” Simon interrupts

“Fuckin brits”

You giggle a little, “I’m gonna get dressed” You smile and make your way back up the stairs.

“She still doesn’t know?” Soap asks

“No, and she never will, I’m done”

“You’re a shit liar”

“I won’t drag her into this”

“Little late for that, by the way, that ex-boyfriend is heavier than he looks”

“I told you not to get involved Johnny”

“And if I didn’t you would’ve had a body in your alley to deal with”

“Why were you there anyway”

“Wanted to check in”

“You’re a nosey bastard you know that”

“Oh don’t I”

You jog down the stairs, newly dressed, sitting next to Johnny on a stool.

“So, what’re you two talking about?”

The two men exchange a quick look, “Simons thinking of takin a vacation” Johnny says, Simon turning his stare to frown at Soap.

“A vacation? Where are you going”

He has to think quickly, and make something up, “I’ve got an old cabin up north, was thinking of spending a weekend there”

“That sounds nice”

You smile at him, a lightbulb going off in his head, “Was thinkin you could join me?”

“Who’d run the pub?” “We can close for a weekend”

“Won’t that cost a lot”

“You don’t need to stress about it”

You give a small nod, “And what about you Johnny, what are you up to”

“Oh ya know, couple of things here and there”

You raise your eyebrows urging him to continue

“Mostly some tidying around, boring errands”

Simon releases a sigh, swearing that if he could he would strangle Johnny right there

“Well, are you gonna be around the pub?” “I think I’ll hang around for a little longer”

“Great, I’ve gotta run out so I’ll see you later” You hop off your stool, moving around the bar to stand on your toes, placing a soft kiss on Simon’s lips, he blushes at the action while Soap rolls his eyes. You wish the two a quick goodbye, walking out the front door to get started on your own errands.

“She’s good for you” Soap quips

“Shut it”

“I’m serious LT, she’s sweet, a nice change from your grumpy attitude”

Simon just stares at Johnny, his face saying enough as Johnny sips his coffee, a smirk on his lips.

You spend a few hours running around the town, picking up some things, and dropping off some breakfast for Mia before you get back to the Pub.

“Hey where’s Johnny”

“Had to go”

“Shame”

“Yea, so about this weekend”

“You don’t want me to come”

“What? No, I was just going to say that it’s a pretty long drive so we’ll have to take your car”

“Oh, okay”

“So we’ll stop by your flat before we go, you can grab whatever you need”

“Sounds perfect, we’ll close early tonight”

You smile at him as he walks towards the backroom to grab supplies for the bar. Work was slow, with barely any patrons during the day, you occupied the time with conversation between you and a few regulars, trying your hardest to understand what they were saying through their thick accents.

“Oi love”

You look up from the table you’re cleaning, Simon’s changed into shorts and a t-shirt, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, “I’m gonna go to the gym, we’ll head out when I’m back?”

“Let me come, it’s dead here anyway”

“Alright, c’mon then”

You giggle as you trail behind him, waiting for him to lock the door before walking the few steps next door to the gym, you step in and the thick air hits you, the place reeks of sweat, scattered people all working out, you feel out of place in your casual clothes, Simon placing a soft hand to your back to guide you through the room.

He stops in front of a punching bag, throwing his gear down before he wraps his hands,

“You box?”

“I used to, trying to get back into it”

You give a hum in acknowledgement, watching as he sets himself up in front of the bag, his strong arms flexed at his sides, he hits the bag hard, watching it swing back before delivering another blow, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little bit, watching his arms flex as he made contact with the bag, the concentration on his face as he timed his hits.

You watch him practice some hits, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin before his hand moves to stop the bag, keeping it still,

“Enjoying the view”

You suddenly realize that you’d been staring at him the entire time, your cheeks blush slightly as he catches you, your teeth biting lightly into your bottom lip as you nod your head, he lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head before resuming.

You stay quiet as you watch him workout for some time, running to grab him some water after the first 20 minutes, he continues for a little longer, his breath heavy as he pulls his fists back, unwrapping his hands.

“All done?”

“You want more?” “I could watch you do that for hours”

He smiles, a genuine smile as he leans down to grab his bag, his sweaty arm slinging over your shoulders as you make a face of disgust,

“You smell terrible”

“Guess we’ll have to clean up”

“We?”

He moves in front of you fast, arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you into the air,

“Gross your sweat is all over me now”

“Whatever will we do?” He gives an exaggerated gasp, you roll your eyes at him, following behind as he unlocks the doors to the pub, making his way upstairs.

He moves to the bathroom, turning on the shower before stripping his clothes and tossing them to the side, your eyes are glued to him, drool practically forming at the sides of your mouth.

“You just gonna stare”

“Not a chance in hell”

You strip your own clothes, closing the space between you as you reach up to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands grab at the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so you can lock them around him as he walks the two of you into the shower, the steam from the water just heightening the heat that's emanating from you.

He presses your back against the tile wall, the water dripping over his bare skin as he peppers kisses down your neck, you let out a small gasp as his teeth dig into your flesh, biting lightly at your collarbone.

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your thigh, you wiggle your hips against him desperate for friction,

“Please Si, need you so bad” You whimper

He pulls back from you, his dark eyes scanning your face, full of lust, he leans in for one more kiss before he lines himself up with your weeping core, you clench around nothing as he teases at your entrance.

You sob into his shoulder as he pushes into you, the stretch of him moulding your entrance to his cock with every inch, your slick coats him as he pushes in deeper.

“Fuck love, see what you do to me, how bad I need you” He grunts into your ear, the noises shooting straight to your core as you cling to him. He holds your weight with his arms, keeping you against the wall as he thrusts into you, groans falling from his lips.

He nudges your head with his shoulder, urging you back so he can see you,

“Don’t hide, want to see you, want to hear all those pretty noises you make for me”

Your nails take across his back as you let your moans drip from your tongue, he leans in swallowing them with his lips.

He adjusts his grip on your legs lowering one so his free hand can toy at your clit, circling it with the rough pad of his thumb as you arch into him.

He presses his forehead to yours, the water cascading over the both of you as you melt into a puddle of moans and cries, his cock pounding into you as his fingers work your bud.

“Need you to cum for me angel, cum on my cock”

He thrusts harder, your hand bracing against the wall trying to keep your balance as you feel your legs weaken.

“Shit, so perfect for me, such a perfect little pussy”

His words ignite a fire in you, you grind your hips down to meet his thrusts, chasing your high as it bubbles in your stomach.

“So close Si, please”

“C’mon love, soak my cock”

You practically scream his name as you cum, your fingers pressing into the flesh of his shoulder as your limbs go limp, he holds you steady, his abdomen tightening as his own orgasm approach’s, he pulls you in for another kiss, holding your lips against his as he spills into you, his seed filling your core with warmth as a string of curses fall from his lips.

He releases your leg, his arm around your waist keeping you steady as you stand, the stream of water helping to ground you as your heartbeat settles, he holds you against him, choking back the words he so badly wants to say in order to stay in the moment.

You turn your back to him, reaching down to grab a bottle of shampoo before dispersing some into your hand, reaching up to run it through his hair, he hums at the contact of your fingers moving over his scalp, slumping his shoulders slightly to allow you easier access.

You can’t fight the smile that creeps on your lips, seeing such a large and daunting man melt under your touch made your heart skip a beat, his hands find purchase on your waist, his thumbs tracing over your wet skin as you work the product through his hair, you hands meeting his shoulder to urge him under the water.

He rinses the product, turning to grab a sponge, pouring some soap onto it before turning back to you,

“Your turn”

You giggle lightly as his hands make contact with your stomach, circling over your skin with the sponge as he watches the bubbles run down your frame, his touch is light, tickling you as he moves around.

You rinse off, finishing in the shower before stepping out, Simon grabs you a towel before wrapping himself in one and you can’t help but stare at his muscles, each ridge that sits on his chest,

“You stare a lot”

“Not every day you have a real greek god standing in front of you”

He scoffs at your words, “Don’t know about that one” He runs a tender hand over your jaw, his fingers pushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you.

“Right, c’mon we’ve got things to do” He smacks your ass playfully, walking into the bedroom to get dressed. You do the same, throwing on your clothes as you watch him pack a small bag, tossing it over his shoulder before threading his hand into yours, the two of you making your way downstairs and through the pub.

Simon locks up before returning to you, he’s tall by your side as you walk down the few streets to your flat, the sunny weather outside amplifying your good mood as you chat.

You reach your flat in no time, unlocking the door before tossing Simon the keys to your car, letting him pack his things in as you step inside to gather yours.

You move around quickly, throwing things in various bags, picking out some clothes and sexy underwear just in case as you make your way back outside.

Simons leaning against the car door, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he eyes you,

“Ready to go?”

You skip over to him, standing tall to kiss him, he tastes like tobacco but you welcome it, smiling at him before moving around the car to get into the passenger seat. He smiles to himself, taking a final drag before flicking the butt to the pavement and getting in the car.

He was right, the drive was long, you’d already been on the road for two hours, passing by a few towns before you had made it to the country, bunches of trees breezing by your window, Simon's hand had been resting on your thigh for the majority of the ride, only moving to change the radio station or turn the ac up.

When you finally arrived it was close to sunset, the sky a mixture of purples and oranges as you approached the old cabin, he tosses you the keys while he grabs the bags from the car. You open the front door and scan the area, it's completely different than his flat, it's cozy, there are pictures on the wall, you take a minute to look closely, Simon's in a few but you don't recognize the others.

"My brother" He appears in the door frame, you turn your head to him, "In the pictures, it's my brother, sister in law and my nephew"

"You didn't tell me you had a family"

"I don't"

Your heart drops as your mind makes sense of his words, "This was their house?"

"Haven't been here in a while, little dusty"

You shake your head, "It's perfect" You move to him and wrap your arms around his waist, his snaked his around your back to hold you close.

“Whaddya wanna do” You ask, your head tilting up to lock eyes with him

“Honetly, go to bed”

“To sleep.. Or to bed” You smirk

He smiles at you, his arms hooking around your thighs as he lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom, your giggles echoing throughout the house.

The next morning was quiet, you woke up before him, watching the steady rise and fall of his bare chest, your fingers tracing his tattoos as you count the freckles on his cheeks.

“Mornin” He grumbles, he doesn’t bother to open his eyes, simply extends his arms around you, pulling you closer, you pepper kisses over his collarbones leading up to his face,

“Sleep well?” You giggle

“Best in years” His fingers push your hair behind your ear as he reches his neck to kiss you,

“C’mon” You move off of him, “You hungry?”

“Starving”

You make your way to the kitchen, pulling open cabinets to search for something, “Theres nothing to make” You pout, he stands in the hallway, arm braced against the wall as he stares you down,

“Not what I’m hungry for”

Your cheeks blush as his stare grows darker, closing the gap between the two of you and lifting you from the ground, his arms secure under your thighs as your ass falls against the countertop, the cold stone stinging your bare skin. He doesn’t bother to take your shirt off, he simply slides your panties from your legs, positioning your thighs over his shoulders as he trails kisses down to your core.

Your fingers thread through his hair, quiet pants falling from your lips as he teases around your dripping sex, placing kisses everywhere except the spot you need him most,

“So perfect” His breath ghosts over your pussy, the feeling making you clench around nothing

“Simon, please”

He stares up at you through his lashes, his hands pushing your thighs further apart, your hand falls back to brace against the counter, your chest heavy as your slick drips out of you. He licks lightly around your bud, whimpers escaping you as he teases around the bud, he enjoys watching you squirm, he wants you begging before he gives you anything. Your fingers are tugging at his roots, trying to pull him into you but he stands firm,

“Needy girl”

“Please”

“What do you need pretty girl”

“Need to feel you, need your fingers”

His hand extends toward your mouth, you open and he inserts two digits in, you swirl your tongue around them, hollowing your cheeks before he pulls them out with a pop, tracing them down over your chest before he pushes them into you, you let out a sigh of relief at the contact, his thick fingers working in and out of you, curling them as he pushes past his second knuckle, he watches your face scrunch from just the touch of his fingers.

He can’t wait any longer, his lips attaching to your clit, your elbow buckles from the contact, your back laying closer to the counter as his tongue flicks over the bud, swirling and sucking until you’re breathless.

“Taste so sweet baby” He purrs into your skin, your slick is coating his chin as his fingers pump into you, your leg tightens around him, holding him to you as he continues his assault, humming around your clit as your fingers tug at his roots.

“Please, so close”

“You wanna cum for me baby?” “Yes, please, need to”

“Good girl, cum on my fingers baby, doing so well for me”

His praise has your eyes squeezing shut, your pending orgasm forcing all your muscles to constrict against your will, you drop your head back, hands falling from him to grip the edge of the counter as his fingers brush against your sweet spot, over and over.

“That’s it baby, cum for me”

His free hand reaches to pinch at your hard nipple, the pressure building inside you threatening to explode, he presses his tongue flat and flicks over your clit, the change has you seeing stars as your climax hits you, your knuckles are white from the grip you have, your legs holding him against you as his fingers fuck you through your high, your hips twitching under him as your moans fall freely from your mouth.

“Such a good girl” He eases his movements, letting you come down before he stands, leaning over your breathless frame to kiss you, the remnants of your slick on his tongue,

“Told you, taste so sweet”

His arms help you from your position, sitting you on the counter as he holds you,

“You hungry?” He asks

You nod, biting your lower lip as your hands move to his pants, he stops your movements,

“I mean real food”

Your chest deflates a little, “Nothing here”

“I’ll go get some, towns a few minutes away” He leans in to kiss you, “Be good while I’m gone”

“I’ll do my best”

He smirks at you, placing a final kiss on your forehead before moving to the bedroom to get dressed. You wait a few minutes after he leaves, wandering the house, you check out a few rooms, your heart panging in your chest when you come upon a bedroom that clearly belonged to a young boy, trains and toy cars scattered across the floor, you know you shouldn't be snooping but curiosity takes over, you move around the upper floor, into the largest bedroom, everything looks like it hasn't been touched in years, the bed is unmade, there's laundry sitting in the basket, either Simon hasn’t been here in forever or he’s kept it the exact same for over a decade.

You leave the room, descending the stairs, trying to find something to do while you wait, deciding that going for a swim was the best option. Changing into your bathing suit you make your way out onto the back deck, it’s a small beach that the house looks out onto, but private, the water is cold when you step in, the waves lapping against your legs as the sun warms your skin, you make your way out further, the water sitting just below your shoulders.

You must’ve been in the water for a while as your trance is broken by Simon calling for you, you turn to him, arm braced above your head to block the sun as he stands on the desk, grocery bags in hand as he waves for you, you shake your head with a smile, urging him to join you, he drops his shoulders and you can practically hear the sigh that falls from his lips. Giving in he drops the bags, peeling his shirt off before making his way over to you, you can’t help but blush at the sight of him, tall and broad shoulders, his skin glowing under the light of the sun, the way his arms flex as he takes his shorts off, long strides carrying him towards you.

“It’s bloody cold”

“You get used to it”

“Right,” His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his form as the water from your chest transfers over to him, making his muscles tense a little.

“C’mon, let’s go eat”

“It’s so nice out here though” You pout

He huffs a laugh, bending down before his shoulder connects with your stomach, lifting you from your place and throwing you over his shoulder. You thrash your legs around but his grip keeps you firm against him,

“Oh my god, let me down!”

“Nope” His palm smacks your ass, making your flinch against him, the water from both of you dripping as he carries you into the house, planting you down on the floor once inside.

“I’m soaked”

He smirks at your words and you roll your eyes playfully,

“I’ll clean it later, come”

He urges you to sit, pulling out a few boxes and placing them in front of you, he devours his breakfast in seconds while you sit picking at your food.

“So this was your brothers house?”

He’s apprehensive to answer, waiting a best before choosing his words,

“Yeah, him and his wife lived here with my nephew”

“And they’re, gone?”

He just nods, turning his attention from you, you push your food away, standing in front of him before wrapping your arms around his dorm, his cheek settling against your chest.

“I’m sorry”

“S’not your fault love”

“I know it’s just, it sucks”

He huffs a small laugh, “Yea, it does”

You hold him for a moment before pulling away, your hand moving to grab his,

“C’mon”

“Where to?”

“Still hungry”

“Your foods there” He quirks his brow

You don’t respond, simply leading him to the bed room when you let go of his hand, turning to face him you pull the strings of your bathing suit, letting the clothing fall to ground before you make your way into the bathroom. He watches you curiously as you lean to turn on the shower, giving him the perfect view of your body,

“Coming?”

He moves towards you, “I will be”

You step into the shower, warm water washing the sand from your body as he stands in front of you, you reach up to kiss him, the water droplets cascading down your form as your hand snakes down his stomach, palming over his length.

“Been thinking about this all morning” Your hand grabs his length, squeezing lightly before running your palm over it, you feel him twitch into your grip, his hands roaming your form as he gazed at you.

You kneel in front of him, he plants one hand in your hair, pulling it back from your face while the other braces him against the wall, you stare at him through your lashes as you lick a stripe from his base to rip, feeling him grow harder under your touch.

He lets out a weak sigh as you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapped around him as your tongue flicks over his tip, gathering his pre cum and swallowing it.

Simon grunts as you take more of him into your mouth, his tip poking the back of your throat as your nose nestles against his pubic hair, you moan against him and he has to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth.

“Fuck love, feels so good”

You hum at his praise, your hairs roaming his form before settling on his thighs, grounding yourself as you bob along his length, flattening your tongue to lick every inch of him.

You feel him get unsteady as your hand plays with his balls, kneading them in your palm as you continue to work him,

“Shit baby, doing so fucking well”

You pull off him, staring up as a string of spit connects your lips to his tip, drool that pooled in your mouth falling to drip between your breasts, his eyes are glued to you as your hand pumps him.

He lets out a string of moans as your lips return to him, bobbing faster as the the sound of wet gags fills the air,

“Fuck, m’so close”

You stare up at him, gently squeezing his thigh to give him the okay to use you, his grip on your hair grows tighter as he holds you on his cock, burying himself in your throat as he begins to thrust, you gag around him, your digits squeezing into his skin to stay balanced as he grunts above you.

You focus on breathing through your nose as his tip makes contact with the back of your throat, over and over until he sets himself deep, holding you there before you feel his balls tighten.

He lets out a deep grunt as he cums, the hot spend dripping down your throat, he loosens his grip on your hair and you move slowly over his length, milking him for every drop.

He lets out a small whimper as he finishes, the sensation of your tongue overstimulating him before you pull off, swallowing as he stares at you.

“God you’re perfect” His hand cups your cheek as he helps you stand, pulling you in for a kiss and swirling his tongue over yours, his salvia mixing with the salty taste of his seed in your mouth.

You spend the rest of the afternoon outside, swimming in the ocean together, bathing in the sun, always in arms reach of the other. As the sun fades the two of you make your way inside for dinner, eating whatever Simon had cooked and managed to not burn while the sound of the waves and cicadas flood your ears.

“Can we stay here forever?”

“I wish love” He responds, smiling at you

“Don’t wanna go back tomorrow”

“I know but the pub can’t run itself”

You huff a small laugh, turning back to your meal.

The rest of the night was quiet, falling into a sort of domestic routine of washing dishes and sitting together on the porch, chatting about nothing in particular, you wanted to ask more about his family but you knew he didn’t want to talk about it, saving your questions for another time.

The next morning was just as calm, waking before him again and simply staring at him, he looked so peaceful when he was asleep, nothing to worry about or bother him, you trace the line of his nose with your finger, he scrunches his face in his sleep and you let out a small laugh.

He opens his eyes slightly, dark eyes staring back at you as a small smile creeps across his face, his arms pulling you into him as he lifts his body over yours, his broad shoulders resting against your form. You roam your hands over his back, fingers feeling over every ridge of scar tissue as he buries his nose in your neck, humming against your skin.

“Have to get up” You place a small kiss to his shoulder and he mumbles, “C’mon, it’s a long drive”

“I’ve changed my mind, we stay here forever”

You laugh against his skin, your fingers moving to thread through his hair as you pepper kisses over his shoulders and neck.

He pushes up with a grunt, gazing at you for a second before leaning down to kiss you, his warmth enveloping your skin as his body cages you against the mattress.

“So beautiful” He whispers and you can’t help but blush at his words, reaching up for another kiss before he gets up.

The two of you go for a final swim before packing all your things away, enjoying the water and sun as in a few hours you’d be back to work, busy and reeking of alcohol.

Simon carries your bags to the car, sitting himself behind the wheel before his hand finds its usual spot on your thigh, his thumb tracing over the skin as he pulls away from the house. You watch the building fade from view, your eyes glued to the sight of the ocean and the terrain as you drive back to the city.

You were a few miles out when you could already hear the noise, car horns and people shouting, there must’ve been a football match that day because everyone was in the streets, running around and shouting from their windows.

Simon pulls up to your flat, parking the car before getting out to open your door, he lifts your bags into the house before meeting back with you,

“I’ll see you at the pub in a few yeah?”

You nod, reaching up to kiss him before he walks away, his talk form navigating around the herds of drunk people.

You unpack your bag, throwing on new clothes and fixing your hair before making your way over to the pub, trying to ignore the shouting from drunk men on the streets, wishing deeply that you had your personal bodyguard to protect you. You arrive at the pub and stand outside for a minute, the lights are off but the door is open, stepping in you shout for him.

There’s not response but you can hear noises upstairs, making your way to the second floor your heartbeat rises,

“Simon?”

“Stay downstairs” You hear him yell, his voice is panicked as a loud thud echoes.

“Is everything alright? The door was open”

“Just go downstairs!”

His voice booms, setting your nerves on edge, your mind races with all the thoughts of what could be happening, thinking about all the things he could be hiding you muster up some courage and push open the door.

A million thoughts ran through your mind, you almost wished it was a girl he was hiding compared to this, the sight of a lifeless body on the ground, a trail of blood across the floor while Simon drags the man.

He drops the body with a thud, his eyes locked on yours as fear sits in your chest, he moves toward you, his hands covered in red as he throws his palms up in defence.

“He broke in”

“You killed him” You’re frozen in your spot

“He had a knife”

“You- you killed him” You can’t face him, your gaze set on the dead body lying on the floor

“Love, look at me”

You shake your head, “How, what?” You struggle to form a sentence, his arms reach for you and you flinch, stepping back.

“Baby it’s ok, just go downstairs”

“No, I don’t, Simon what the fuck” Tears prick your eyes, “How are you so calm”

“You know I’ve done it before love”

“Those are different circumstances, right?”

“Yes”

“This, this is murder”

“Self defence, please, just go downstairs and I’ll explain everything”

You stare at him for a moment, your options run through your mind, how could a man so gentle, so tender with you be capable of this, be so calm during this, you should run, should call the police but against better judgement you listen, leaving down the stairs you lock the front door, sitting down to try and catch your breath.

You can’t think about anything except the sight of your maybe boyfriend dragging a dead man across the floor, your ears don’t even focus on the noises above you, the sound of Simon grunting as he moves the body.

You sit in silence for 10 minutes before you hear him come down the stairs,

“You stayed” He sounds relieved

“You have a lot of explaining to do”

573 notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 3 months

Text

🍓 the 1 // a strawberry wine blurb

you all asked for a strawberry wine blurb, and so here we are- the blurb that made @theemporium put me in the doghouse. sorry in advance, enjoy this very non canon alternate ending to Empty Space

In the car, in a parking lot somewhere in Monaco, you turn to Daniel in the seat next to you and drop his hand. He’s just offered to take you to Max.

“Can you take me to my friend Audrey’s?” You ask quietly. “I can give you directions.”

His face drops. Your heart is sinking. You think his might be too. He says your name, softly, and you know. This could be your last chance. If you don’t go to Max now, Daniel is going to tell him that he gave you the choice, and you said no. Max has tried twice already, has extended the olive branch and the white flag. He brought your favorite dinner to your apartment, he found you on the rooftop patio and begged you to talk to him. He won’t keep reaching out. It’s unfair for you to expect that.

You swallow tightly and close your eyes. “Please, Danny. Take me to Audrey’s.”

He does, though he seems less than thrilled about it. When he pulls into the parking lot, he pauses one last time and stares at you. There’s this deep sadness in his eyes, matching the feeling in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” he answers.

You fall onto Audrey’s couch when you get up to her flat and cry yourself to sleep. You wonder if Max is doing the same across town, or if he’s already past this stage. You feel a sense of impending doom.

Four days later, he calls you. When you don’t answer, he texts. We need to talk. Your world drops out from under you.

You meet him at your shared apartment, knowing it’ll likely be the last time you share anything with him. You feel numb the whole drive there, and the walk up to the front door too. Max is standing in the kitchen, pouring water into two glasses from a pitcher. His face is blank. Something heavy settles on your chest, like a tight weight across you.

You stand across the kitchen from him. It’s like neither of you feel like you’re allowed to sit down. For a moment, you just stare at him. You should just tell him what’s been eating you up inside. Why you asked for a break in the first place, why you feel like you’re falling apart. But you think it’s a lost cause, now. He’s made his mind up. You pushed him to that point.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice so so loud in the silent apartment. “I…”

He nods slowly. “I am too.”

It’s not a hopeful apology. You don’t even think he’s apologizing for what’s happened. He’s apologizing for what he’s about to do.

He rubs his thumb against the counter. “I can’t keep doing this, you know. I agreed to space, and a break. But it’s been over a month now. And I…”

He scoffs, shakes his head. He’s not looking at you, staring at the countertop. You wish you could tell what he was feeling- normally, he’s an open book. Now he’s a blank slate. You feel unsteady on your feet, like the room is swaying.

“I love you,” he says, and your stomach lurches. “And I thought you loved me but you won’t even tell me what’s going on, you won’t talk to me-“

“I do love you,” you insist.

He looks up at you, and finally, you see it- just a flash of anger. “This isn’t love. You might feel it but you’re not showing it.”

You shrink in on yourself and shove your hands in your pockets. You have this awful urge to get angry right back, to yell and fight and claw tooth and nail to hold on. Because maybe fighting would mean this isn’t a lost cause.

He interrupts you when you open your mouth. “I don’t want to argue.”

You blink. “What if I do?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a little late.”

Your ribs are caving in, you swear. Shame burns bright in your stomach. You stare at the man you love and realize you’ve hurt him more than you ever could’ve imagined. Max forgives, always. He gives second and third chances. But you’ve fucked it up so badly that you used them all up.

“I can… explain. I know I won’t change your mind but-“ you shrug. “If you want.”

He shakes his head again, brow set in a hard line. “I don’t need to know what was wrong to know that we could’ve gotten through it. Together.”

You cast your gaze to the ground, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You hear his slow, soft footsteps. He makes his way towards you, and you grow more tense with every inch he gains. His feet come into your field of vision. He’s wearing the slippers you bought him for Christmas. An ache swirls through you. Things were good, then.

He reaches a tentative hand out and cups the side of your face. When you don’t pull away, he tilts your head up towards his.

“I do love you,” he says, warmer than you deserve. “And I hope that whatever is going on, you figure it out, because I hate to see you like this. But I can’t… I…”

You search his eyes for a sliver of something, anything. You don’t find it. And that’s when you decide. You’ve fucked this all up, but you can save him this one bit of agony. So you reach up, wrap your hand around his wrist gently, and bite the bullet.

“I think we should break up,” you say, though the alarm bells are ringing in your head. “I’m sorry, I-“

“It’s okay,” he says, thumb brushing across your cheek. “It’s okay.”

He kisses you one last time, his hand cradling your face, his nose against yours. You try to memorize the feeling, try to burn it into your brain. You rub your thumb against the soft skin of the inside of his wrist and wish you could go back in time.

He doesn’t cry. Neither do you. Not until after you’ve left, after you’ve stumbled back to your car in the parking garage. Then you collapse against the steering wheel and bawl your eyes out. This is what it feels like, to lose the one person you love the most. It’s an ugly feeling, one that turns you inside out and upside down. Like you’re falling through a bottomless pit, waiting to hit the ground. You cry until you’re all out of tears, and then you call Audrey to pick you up, because your hands are shaking so badly that you can’t get the key in the ignition.

There will be things to figure out, of course. The apartment is in both of your names, the things inside it are shared. But right now you both need space. Funny, it’s all you thought you wanted, and now you have it in excess. You have space from him, forever.

….

It tears you apart.

But eventually, as all things do, it dulls. It’ll never really go away, you suppose- the pain you feel when you think of him, or your apartment, of strawberries and the million other things that remind you of him. But it goes from a deep stabbing pressure to an ache that you can live with.

You move- as far from Monaco as you can possibly get. You got a job offer, and everything in Monaco was Max, so you took the opportunity and ran. You build a new life on the other side of the world, in a city where not everyone knows about F1 and Max Verstappen and all the rest of it, too. You move forward.

Max does too. You see it from afar, hear about it from your friends. There are times you think of reaching out to congratulate him, or even just to check in. But you think about an unanswered text, or a changed number, or even a girlfriend of his seeing it, and you never send the message. He probably doesn’t want to hear from you anyways. If he did, he’d have reached out.

You and Max just aren’t the type of exes who are meant to be friends.

The day you hear he’s engaged, you break down into tears and spend the next 48 hours locked in your bedroom.

When you hear they called off the wedding, you finally call him. You’re not sure he’ll answer, or if he even has the same number, but you have to try. It rings and rings, and then-

“Hello?”

a/n: sorry I promise they’re married this didn’t happen it was all just a dreammmmm

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

#yesterday: posts the wedding today: posts angst #sorryyyyyy #strawberry wine verse #max verstappen angst #max verstappen series #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 angst #formula 1 fic #formula 1 series #f1 fic #x reader #mv33

158 notes · View notes

kitswag · 7 months

Text

Ace, Sabo remembered clearly, was not this sappy.

The ten-year-old Ace loved them plenty of course, a loving and caring big brother who protected Sabo and Luffy from any harm, that death glared anyone who dared to stare at his little brothers funny. Sabo had found that throughout the ten years they were apart, Ace had stayed the same, had still protected them from harm, but something else had bloomed in and trapped Luffy and Sabo in the middle of it, something that Sabo had missed the chance to see grow.

Ten years away had drifted Sabo distant from their usual rituals and banters and habits, when he dragged them away from Marineford the very last minute, he had seen that everything stayed the exact same. How Ace had still protected Luffy and how Luffy was still so endearingly stubborn, fighting tooth and nail for someone he loved.

After it, however, after Ace had awoken from a long sleep, after his punch was centered right to Sabo's cheek, after tears and hugs and explanations of the missing hole in his memory, after tackles from Luffy, Sabo had noticed something. This something that bloomed in his older brother.

Something that had Ace dragging them towards his embrace, Pulling them close to plant kisses on their foreheads. Soft and tight, "my brothers, " Ace had murmured as he kept them both safe and warm.

Luffy tucked himself into the fold of Ace's arms like he had practiced it thousands of times before, resting himself into a place he knew existed for him, between Ace's chest and his arms, above his lap and beneath his chin.

Sabo rested awkwardly on Ace's shoulder, slowly observing Luffy's huge, content smile. A smile so sweet and so bright it made Sabo's heart melt, his eyes trailed to Ace's as his was warm and comforting, both acted as blankets wrapping around Sabo and whispering to him; "you are here. And we are too."

Both of them were fast asleep, too tired from crying and the whole thing Marineford was.

Sabo's only working right eye observed Ace and Luffy, wrapped around each other so perfectly, a pair of brothers who had spent ten years with each others, who made a space for each other, a space they fit into, curled around one another.

The three of them had made spaces around each other years ago. A space that's still there. Still open.

Yet Ace's embrace was new, and Luffy had already made his space in it long ago, fitting right into Ace's open one.

It made Sabo wonder, would he fit into this new embrace? could he make a space, tucked inside Ace's embrace? this new embrace Ace and Luffy had created without him?

Would he fit after ten years without them? Would they mind? would-

"Sabo? aren't you joining? Ace had already pulled you, so if you don't join it's a crime, " Luffy's sudden owlish gaze struck Sabo. His little brother stuck out his bottom lip, "I want to hug you. "

Ah. It seemed like he had woken Luffy up somehow. But Luffy was like that, wasn't he? he didn't like being left alone.

(And Sabo had done just that ten years ago.)

Sabo hesitated. Luffy did not.

His little brother stretched his rubbery arms around Sabo and dragged him in until Sabo was half-laying down, the side of his head against Ace's chest, his legs sprawled on the medical bed that was a bit too small for three people.

Luffy smiled as Sabo had completely sunk in the embrace, "don't just stay in the sides, Sabo, you belong here. "

And Luffy carelessly jerked back to sleep, now his arms wrapped securely along Sabo and Ace.

Sabo felt his eyes water.

("You belong here.")

So Sabo made himself comfortable and fought the urge to cry. Slowly, he tucked himself into a space.

(A space Ace and Luffy had open for him a long time ago, he only now just realized.)

("You belong here.")

Sabo felt tears dripping from his eyes, for the ten years gone and the ten years ahead. For his space, back in their little trio he loved so much.

"Idiot. You're crying again. I thought the crybaby was supposed to be Luffy, " Ace's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Shut up, " Sabo chuckled, "you cried too," he wiped the back of his hand against his eyes, yet they kept dripping out.

"Only once, " Ace snickered, wiping his tears off with a thumb. Ace pressed another kiss on his forehead, and then on Luffy's, and then he went back to sleep.

His big brother tightened his hold on him and Luffy, and Sabo couldn't help but smile.

He wiped the tears off and settled in the space he belonged to.

("You belong here".)

#one piece #revolutionary sabo #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #asl brothers #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #thinking about what sabo would think if he ever get to experience ace's hugs #he would be flabbergasted but he would love it #i love them so much they're so brothers :“”“(((

344 notes · View notes

sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year

Note

so faux sympathy is like them pretending to be nice to you? In a sexual way it could be them saying "shh, shh, shh it'll be fine baby" while simultaneously edging you. its pretending to be nice (with words) but is actually vv mean (with actions)

GOTCHA

OG Black Dragons it is!

Solicitudes: Keizo Arashi/Takeomi Akashi/Wakasa Imaushi/ Shinichiro Sano x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: forced orgasms, tight fits, edging, crying, dacryphilia, just a bunch of smut, alright?

masterlist

Keizo Arashi - "Stuffed Full"

"Please, please, please..." Keizo's fingers swipe at your red cheeks, praying no wetness would find the soft skin as he presses into your pussy. "Please, big daddy, please, please."

"What're you begging for, baby?" he wonders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. "Need me to stop?"

"Need to go slow..."

"Oh, you can take it," Keizo hums, kissing the top of your head as he moves inside of you. "You always do so well."

"Big daddy," you moan a little louder, your voice vibrating against his chest. "Big daddy, your dick is--"

"It's okay," he urges you, stroking your hair and finding a pleasurable rhythm to fuck into you from below. You're flattened against his chest, but your hips are bouncing against his. The sounds your pussy is making drive him wild, and your expression is one of being lost, one of being absolutely and utterly in space. "I've got you, babe."

"You..."

"Mmhmm," he whispers, moving his hands to grip your hips so he has more control. "Let me handle this. You just lay right here so I can fuck you back to sleep, yeah? Let big daddy do this for you."

You nod as if you're in a trance, and Keizo leans his head back onto the pillows, closes his eyes, and continues fucking you so he can join you in that same trance.

Takeomi Akashi - "Edged to The Brink"

"You can take one more, can't you?"

Your blindfold is soaked with tears. Takeomi holds your legs apart with his hands, and his cock dangles dangerously close to your entrance. It's already covered in your slick, drenched to hell with your juices, but not your cum. Not yet.

"'M sorry, Omi; I'm sorry!" Takeomi clicks his tongue and shakes his head, looking down at your face with a hazy sense of dominance. He runs a finger from your quivering lips to your chest, circles each nipple, then eases right back into you. You both hiss out a long breath, and Takeomi begins his work again, bringing you to the edge of your sanity.

Just like you'd done to him so many times before this with your crazy cheating scandals and absurd antics.

"I'm such a bad guy for making you cry, huh?" You fight the urge to nod your head; Takeomi can see it in the way your neck stiffens. "What's a girl to do when Big Bad Omi edges her like this?" Your mouth opens, but Takeomi shushes you, placing a single finger on your lips. "Not fair, is it?"

"Not fair," you echo, trying to catch your breath as he picks up his speed. Takeomi's not one for revenge. Usually. But tonight, you'd come back to him with your tail between your legs and a long list of things you would and wouldn't do anymore. So he had to test you.

It was only right.

"You'll earn your orgasms from now on," Takeomi bites out, his green eyes squinting at your pitiful form on his bed. "Understand?"

"Yes," you whimper. "I understand." Takeomi's scar itches, but he ignores it in favor of feeling your cunt squeeze around him.

"I'll edge you to hell and back if you think I'm kidding."

"I'll be good, I promise." Your breathy moans make Takeomi want to cum in you right then and there. But you'd have to earn that back, too.

You tense up, right on the edge of another orgasm... but Takeomi pulls out, and fists himself to completion all over your stomach. You cry out in dismay, but he just grunts and finishes, then leaves the bed.

"You want to be my girl? Then be my girl."

Wakasa Imaushi - "Overstimulated"

"I can't..."

"Of course, you can, baby..." Wakasa hovers over you, holding the Hitachi wand right against your clit. "You're doing so good for me. I just need one more orgasm so you're nice and wet."

"Can't," you cry out, tears threatening to push past your eyelids. It's not that you don't want to cum. Waka knows this. But he needs you soaking wet so he can pump you full of his cum tonight. He's a man on a mission - and your satisfaction is his goal.

"You poor thing," he sighs, turning up the speed on the wand. "You've done it before for me, baby girl. Do you need some more help?" You squirm underneath his guidance, your fingers clasping for something that he can give you, something to touch, but landing on nothing but air.

Your hands - tied above your head - wriggle and flail about as Wakasa smirks, his unbound hair flowing around his shoulders and tickling your skin.

"You're doing great, baby girl. Daddy just needs one more..."

Your choked cry makes Waka hard as fuck, but he simply palms himself through his trousers as you seek the final thread of release. You're struggling, but that doesn't mean Waka will leave you out to dry.

No, no.

His hand moves from his pants to your breast, and with deft fingers, Waka tweaks your nipple hard enough to make you cry out in shock but not in pain. You jerk once, and Waka knows you've found it. The mystical cord that connects you to your impending orgasm makes his own orgasm that much closer, and you work your hips against the vibrator as if to bring yourself closer to the edge.

"That's it," Waka murmurs, practically salivating at the sight of you working so hard to cum. "Look at you, doing your best."

When the orgasm is ripped from you for the fourth time, Wakasa tosses the vibrator aside and forces his pants off his hips eagerly. He needs to be inside of you now.

"Now, it's my turn," he huffs, fisting his cock right as he sinks into oblivion.

Shinichiro Sano - "Slow Down"

It feels like Shinichiro had waited all of his life for you. Marriage had always been the end goal. While that didn't mean you'd stay together forever, there was no way Shin would go back to his twenty rejections, not after being in heaven with you nearly every day.

Shin's hips stutter against yours, and he feels his release dangle in front of him like a carrot. He indeed enjoys cumming as much as he can, but the only thing that could encourage his own release is yours.

"Shin," you whine, reaching back to grab his wrist. Your fingers wrap around his bones with care, even though you're shaking and shivering and doing all of the right things. His eyes flutter open, and he looks at you, tears rolling down your pretty, puffy cheeks. "Shin, please..."

But he doesn't stop. You're not hurt. He knew when you were hurt, so why are you crying? "Hmm?"

"My pussy is so swollen," you murmur, reaching down to play with your clit. "Take it easy on me, babe."

"Mmm," he hums, bending over you. "Does it hurt, my sweet?"

"No," you admit, but tears still slip down your cheeks. Shin licks at one of them, relishing the taste of salt on his tongue.

"You want me to ease up?" You nod, allowing Shin to rock his hips into you carefully. "You want me to not fuck your brains out?"

"No," you protest, but Shin keeps going.

"Maybe we should stop for a little while. That might make things easier, hm?" Your pussy clenches around his cock, and Shin knows he's got you wrapped around his finger when you begin to fuck him back. His hand reaches around your waist and knocks your fingers away from your clit. "Should just come home and finger you from now on, it seems."

"Didn't say that," you gasp, simultaneously riding his fingers and milking his cock for all he's worth.

"No?" Shin rubs your clit faster, and you arch your back, crying out in pleasure. "Thought you wanted that, sweetheart. You want me to take it easy on you. I can definitely do that."

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you chant through your teeth, and Shin leans back and pistons into your cunt with as much force as he can muster.

"Now, cum for me. Cum right on my cock."

#keizo arashi x reader #arashi keizo x reader #keizo arashi #keizo arashi smut #takeomi akashi x reader #takeomi akashi #takeomi akashi smut #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi smut #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers

908 notes · View notes

lucidreamer-uwu · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can I request headcannons for cuddling with the om brothers?

Cuddling with you

LUCIFER

Would most of the time be the big spoon. Times when you'd be the big spoon is when he passes out before you even get to the bed.

Loves to burry his face snuggly in the base of your neck.

Cuddling with him would always involve a little teasing.

Praises you through sweet whispers in your ear.

The way he holds you makes you feel safe and the kisses he plants on your head lulls you to sleep soundly.

MAMMON

Completely encases you in his arms.

Likes to have his head on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat and hug your abdomen.

He tells you about his day and asks about yours as he holds you. Most of the time he rants about his day while you hug his head dearly. And you'd both fall asleep like that.

Might hug you a little too tight sometimes.

Has drooled on you multiple times before.

Has squashed you multiple times before.

Will definitely give you pouty kisses.

Due to his naturally possessive nature, he'd give you zero personal space. He'd be clinging on you for hours if you were cuddling.

LEVIATHAN

At first he'd be VERY conscious about even touching you but would eventually get used to it.

When he does get used to cuddling with you, he'd crave it every now and then and at the most random times.

Doesn't matter where you were, he'd need his cuddles ASAP.

At RAD? He'll pull you away from the group and literally just hold you in his arms in an empty hallway or classroom.

In someone else's room? He'd YEET you out of there, not caring what his brothers say.

You aren't around? He'd blow up your phone just to ask for cuddles.

The best cuddles he gives though is whenever he's jealous. Yes. When he's jealous after seeing you give anyone a hug, you'd be cuddling hours on end. He'd be so clingy that he even carries you to the kitchen to restock on his food and drinks supply for his room.

SATAN

He will always be the big spoon unless you want to be or when he's in a pouty/grumpy mood and you have to cheer him up.

He sometimes sings you songs. Other times he tells you his favorite stories that he's got memorized.

Talks about his day and asks about yours. It would often start with him ranting about something, but would always end in fluff and him purring.

One arm wraps around you and the other rests on your waist or hip is his favorite default cuddle position.

ASMODEUS

Weirdly likes to hug certain portions of your body at different times.

Sometimes likes to hug mainly your arm, sometimes your leg, other times your head. Something like a koala bear.

Loves to play with your hair, style it, comb it with his fingers, tuck it behind your ears/mess it up.

Rubs his cheeks on you.

Pets you a lot.

Says your name while he sleeps with a happy expression.

BEELZEBUB

When you cuddle, he always makes it a point to hold your hand — to intertwine your fingers together.

He wants you over him most of the time just so he's sure that he wouldn't squish you.

You cuddle facing each other and his hands are behind your back, securing you completely.

He often sniffs your hair and kisses your head afterwards. The smell of you drives him crazy, not because he has the urge to nom you, but because he cherishes you do much.

BELPHEGOR

He almost always demands that you hug him with you entire body when you cuddle.

He'd be lying on his side and you'd be hugging his torso so that your head is just under his chin.

Your legs must straddle his abdomen too. He loves it when you're as close to him as possible.

Lays his chin on top of your head and kisses your hair everytime he wakes up in the middle of his naps.

Sorry for the late answer but here it is anon! Hope it isn't trash :")

Tag List: @mcx7demonbros @gojohater101 @my-names-angel-but-im-not-one

430 notes · View notes

mustainegf · 7 days

Note

Can you write something about james and the reader being both in Metallica and go on tour and they get put in the same room and it only has one bed and you know the rest 😉😉😉😉

I ADDED SOME FLUFFY BUILDUP I HOPE THATS OKAY!!!

Stepping into the dimly lit hotel room, the hum of the city outside faded into the background, replaced by the soft glow of bedside lamps.

My heart pounded in my chest, not from the day's workload or the technical challenges I'd faced as the band's sound director, but from the unexpected situation I found myself in.

Due to a mix-up with the room assignments, I was sharing this intimate space with James, the band's charismatic lead singer and rhythm guitarist.

I had always admired James from afar, not just for his undeniable talent that captivated audiences night after night, but also for the genuine kindness and humility he displayed offstage.

There was something about his voice, his presence, that had always drawn me in, stirring feelings I had often dismissed as mere infatuation. But now, faced with the reality of being forced to share a bed with him, those feelings resurfaced with a newfound intensity.

As I unpacked my belongings, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst the unexpected situation, I couldn't help but wonder how this would change our dynamic.

Would the close quarters bring us closer together, or would it highlight the professional boundaries that had always defined our relationship? I found myself torn between the excitement of being in such close proximity to someone I had admired for so long and the apprehension of navigating the complexities of our newfound living arrangement.

I heard the door open, following with a gentle shut. "Hey," James greeted me, a tinge of awkwardness settling in the air.

"Um. hey." I tried to remain composed, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I avoided eye contact, struggling to find the right words.

I nodded, trying not to let my cheeks go red. I was already wearing the clothes I planned to sleep in; baggy sweats and a tight lacy tank top which seemed to draw in his attention.

I slipped into bed, the thin cool blanket tickling my skin. I could almost feel James' eyes on my figure.

James cleared his throat and I could hear him shuffling around, probably getting himself ready to sleep.

He then laid down next to me. I felt the mattress dip, and so did my heart, feeling his warmth radiate to my skin. We were both silent for what felt like an eternity, neither one of us making the slightest movement.

I was so cold in my tank, shivering slightly. I was too nervous to get up.

"You okay?" He asked. My stomach dipped at the sound of his low voice. I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine.

Just cold."

James cleared his throat again as I shifted to face him, closing my eyes so he didn't think I was watching him.

I don't know why I was so paranoid. It wasn't like we hadn't been friends for years. Sure, there was a little bit of attraction between us, but I was a grown woman who knew how to keep her cool. Me and James had maybe had under 10 conversations with each other— that weren't work related.

And that was because I was always too busy watching him sing on stage or avoiding eye contact in the hallway. The only thing we really talked about was the occasional show or gig we went to.

"Come here then, you know. if you're cold," James oftered, sounding hesitant. My eyes shot open in confusion, taking in the sight of James lying shirtless next to me. His body was highlighted by the dim blue moonlight, his eyes dark pools of understanding waters.

My heart skipped a beat. I never thought I'd ever be in bed with James, much less in this position. I never thought I'd ever be in bed with anyone, period. "I don't bite," James laughed softly, pulling his arm around me and urging me to nudge closer.

I scoffed, feeling defeated. And so, with a racing heart, I allowed for his arm to fully wrap my body and pull me to his warm side. I nervously let my head rest on his shoulder, my hand resting dormant on his chest.

With each passing moment, the silence grew heavier until the familiar sound of his heartbeat became the background music to my thoughts.

How strange, to lie here in bed with him after all these years.

"Your heart is going kinda fast," James whispered, his words hanging in the air above me.

I wasn't too sure what to say, I knew he was right.

"It's nothing," I mumbled, kicking myself for even saying anything, it sounded stupid. He chuckled softly.

"Is it me?" James asked slowly, running his hand down my back.

"No, no, I just." I trailed off, still unsure of how to articulate myself without sounding like an idiot.

I sat up, propping myself up on my elbow so I could peer down at him. The precious look on his face was a mix of care and vulnerability, complete trust. Somehow.

I felt his eyes on me, studying my every feature. I let out a deep breath.

James curled his fingers to fold my hair behind my ear, those perfect eyes of his still analyzing me.

I couldn't control what I was doing, I was being fueled purely by passion. I Leaned down softly, letting my lips rest over his for a second or two before pulling away. The kiss was gentle, soft, something so full of love.

I was so intoxicated, my heart was racing, and my body was on fire. I wanted more, but I was afraid to ask. I was afraid to want more.

We stared at each other as we took in what had just happened.

"Are you sure?" He eventually whispered out, his voice was all I needed to hear for my heart to calm.

"Yes." I answered. "I am."

I found myself smiling for the first time in a long time. "Then kiss me again," James said, his voice soft and commanding. I did. This time, it was longer, wetter, and I was lost in his kiss.

All I could taste was him, and feel was his touch.

When we finally broke apart, his hands cupped my face as he peered at me with need. "I've waited so long for this." He admitted quietly.

"So have I," I smiled, my hand sticking resting on his chest.

"C'mere.." he barked quietly, pulling my waist up to sit over his hips.

My lips devoured his in another kiss, his hands roaming over my frame.

He must've been needy, desperate even, because he was already clawing at my tank, pulling it off of me.

"Lift your arms," he ordered, and I did, not thinking twice about it. His eyes widened when he saw my breasts, and he made a low growl.

I giggled slightly, surprised that he would react like that. It hadn't occurred to me that he'd be seeing them for the very first time. Or ever.

"Jesus Christ.." he groaned, his mouth darting to the sensitive flesh.

The feeling took me by surprise, moaning at the feeling of his tongue grazing my nipple.

He was attentive and passionate. He knew what he was doing. I couldn't stop moaning, and he ate it all up. I was so intoxicated with his touch, his attention.

It was the most amazing feeling I've ever felt. After a few minutes of his worshiping, I decided it was my turn.

I moved down his body, taking my time. I knew he was enjoying every second of it. I took my time, every kiss, every stroke, every lick... I knew exactly what I was doing.

I pulled the rest of the blanket off of him, he was only in boxers.

I continued to kiss my way down, all while stroking him through his boxer shorts. He sucked in a sharp breath, almost like he was hurting himself. The tent in his boxers was sure evident, I liked knowing I had that effect on him.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you are killing me here," he muttered, his fingers intertwining with mine.

"Shh..." I hushed, wanting to make this last forever.

I wrapped my fingers around the wait band of his boxers, pulling them down slowly to reveal his erection, which stood up in attention.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, as his head rolled back, eyes closing in ecstasy. "Mhhmm..." I hummed, taking his throbbing cock in my hand.

"Fuck! You don't even know how good you look.." James rambled on "I should probably warn you now, I'll cum if you keep that up." He winced as I brushed my thumb past his tip.

"Really?" I teased, squeezing him lightly. "Ah-Y.Yeah," he huffed in pleasure.

"Hmm," I hummed again, taking him in my mouth and swirling my tongue around the head. "Fuck!" he shouted, his grip tightening on my hair. "That feels good." He stated, as he started thrusting against my lips.

God, Iloved his cock. I didn't even know why. He tasted good, and he looked even better. I was addicted. I'd never be able to get enough. He moaned as I took him deeper. I took him all the way in, making sure to hit his sensitive spot on the underside of his shaft. He grunted, making the room shaky. His grip on my hair loosened, I Looked up to see if he was okay.

His face was so red, I could see the veins on his neck. He was close. I loved the power I held in my hands.

I bobbed my head on his length, feeling the tension build in him.

I pulled my mouth off of him, finishing him off with a few final pumps.

"FUCK!" he yelled out, coming hard, shooting his seed onto my hand. His orgasm had rocked his whole body. "Oh, fuck!" He mumbled, dropping into the mattress.

"So messy.." I purred, licking the salty cum off of my hand and his cock.

Ilicked him clean, the list in his eyes the heaviest I'd ever seen.

"You are so dirty, sweetheart." He chuckled, running his fingers through my hair.

I gave his tip a soft kiss before crawling back up to straddle his waist. "I need you to fuck me, James.." I whispered into his ear.

"Baby, anytime." He replied. With those words, my heart exploded, like a thousand fireworks going off.

I sat up, rocking my hips on his cock, which was still hard as a rock. His member slid through my wet folds, teasing me with the curve of every vein.

"J-James..." my voice shook wildly, before he slid the head inside of me.

He was big. He stretched me further than any other man. I gasped, biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out. "I know honey.." he whispered, slipping completely into me.

We both sighed simultaneously. It was like we were meant for each other. No one else would fit in our places. "Do you want me to go slow?" he asked, when I tensed at first.

I shook my head, starting to ride him harder, setting the pace for us. "Good girl," he praised, loving how I rode him like a pro.

Our skin slapped together softly, wet and obscene sounds filling the room.

"That's it, ride this dick, so good..." James uttered, his large hands gripping my waist so tightly.

The bruises were already forming. I couldn't help but love it. I'd be sporting those marks for weeks.

"Fuck me harder," I groaned, loving the way he made me feel. I was about to fall over the edge.

"Gladly, sweetheart." He responded, bucking me hard, causing my breasts to bounce.

I threw my head back, grinding my hips harder along with his thrusts. He had found my g spot and was hitting it relentlessly.

"Yesssss," I moaned. I needed more. This wasn't nearly enough. I wanted more of him. More of everything. If only time stood still. I wished it did right then. Without a moment's notice, James flipped me over onto the mattress and pulled my leg up over his shoulder, his thrusts not pausing for even a second.

I squealed, but that just turned him on more. He pounded into me like there was no tomorrow. I'd never had sex like this before. It was intense, hot and passionate. He drove into me, knowing exactly where I needed to be hit. It was heaven. Nothing else in the world compared to this. "Come for me, sweetheart."

He demanded, reaching between us and stroking my clit. My walls contracted, and I came all over him, my juices coating him. My inner muscles tightened around his dick, sucking him in deeper.

"Mmph," I gasped. James' hips stuttered as I felt him fill me up with cum. I basked in the warmth, knowing he'd be inside of me for a good while.

James stopped moving and collapsed beside me. I felt drained, exhausted, but in the best kind of way.

While trying to catch our breaths, we glanced over, meeting the others' gaze.

I giggled, blushing at our shameless display of lust.

"Is it a good time to say I like you?" James heaved, a dorky smile at his lips.

I smiled back, my heart bursting with happiness.

"Yes, I like you too."

I chuckled under my breath, cuddling up to him as we swam in the afterglow of our love making.

69 notes · View notes

blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Text

The Cross

Warnings: threats, breaking and entering, Rafe being a douche, unprotected sex, angst, SEASON 3 SPOILERS!!!!

To say Pope was upset about the cross being melted down was an understatement. You guys had never seen him so upset. Then he disappeared. You knew he probably needed his space and time to process and that Cleo was probably with him but revenge was on yours and JJ's mind now. That's why you were at Tannyhill at Rafe's party being the distraction while JJ scoped the place out for the gold from the cross. You and JJ had argued for over an hour on whether you should be bait but after being kidnapped with Rafe Cameron, you felt like maybe you could use that to keep him distracted. He was also no doubt pissed about his boat but this gave him the opportunity to confront you while JJ snooped.

"Are you lost, Pogue?" You stiffen, smelling Rafe's strong cologne before you see him. You turn with your beer to your lips as Rafe comes to a stop in front of you.

"Rafe! Nice party." You nod, trying to push away the nerves you felt in your stomach. This could go very wrong.

"Cut the shit. Why are you here?" Rafe demands, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched. He was beyond pissed as he snatches your drink away.

"I wanted to apologize about your boat." You sigh, doing your best to fake sympathy and softening your eyes.

"Really? Are you going to pay for the damage? It's covered in bullet holes." Rafe growls, stepping into your space. It was unlike Rafe to suddenly care about something replaceable but this was the first time he had his own money.

"That was Sighns men. That's not my fault." You bit out.

"You know, I thought we were finally at an understanding. I thought we trusted each other then you stabbed me in the back."

"I couldn't leave my friends."

"I got you to safety. That says a lot about your friends."

"Shut up, Rafe. You're just mad you got your ass handed to you." Rafe steps closer, his chest brushing yours as he cages you in. You panic for a moment, looking around to hopefully see JJ approaching but that would make things ten times worse. Especially when Rafe grabs your chin, making you crane your neck as you're forced to look up at him.

"Anything could've happened in that room you know." Rafe murmurs, licking his lips as he gazes down at you with hooded eyes. You try to jerk away from his hold but his fingers tighten, pinching your chin. "You're so pretty when you sleep." You stiffen, like you've been doused in cold water as all the possibilities and what ifs plague your mind. You shove at his chest with a snarl and he grins, finally releasing you.

"You're a prick." You bite out, taking a step back as his uneasy grin spreads.

"And you're done. Get out. I'm gonna go find your friend." Your eyes widen just as someone grabs your arm, pulling you towards the gate. Rafe knew. He knew this whole time and JJ was in the house.

Who knew Rafe Cameron was so predictable? Well, actually, I did. The first place I looked - under his bed - and I found the black box that no doubt held the gold. It was locked but I had the box. It was heavy so there had to be multiple. The cross had weighed several hundred pounds so he had to have hundreds of gold blocks stored somewhere. This was just what he had on him.

"Did Y/N tell you what happened between us?" I freeze at the sound of Rafe's voice, the gold forgotten about as I slowly turn and face him, my blood boiling. Nothing happened between them so he was only trying to piss me off.

"She's beautiful. Too beautiful for you. It's a shame you didn't see the tight little red dress they had her wear. The slit was so high on her leg, I bet she wasn't even wearing panties. Actually, I know she wasn't because I found her panties folded up with her clothes." Rafe smiles at my bristling body, my fists clenched as I resist the urge to bash his head in.

"This isn't over. That cross wasn't yours to destroy." I bite out, trying to calm my racing heart. I was so pissed off I could barely think straight. Rafe shrugs, his hands in his pockets as he walks over by the bed and tucks the black case away like he didn't just catch me trying to steal it.

"She's a deep sleeper." Rafe meets my eyes, a sinister smirk on his lips. I flinch, my anger starting to get the best of me.

"I offered to let her sleep in my shirt but she declined. I could still see her hard little nipples though. They probably feel really good between your teeth." I snarl, my back to the door as I debate making a break for it and killing him.

"It's not cheating for her to want me. Y'all aren't exclusive right? So you can't be mad at her for what happened while we were trapped together. I mean, we thought we were going to die so why not fuck one last time?" I lunge right into his trap and he pulls a gun from behind him, keeping it aimed at my head as I bristle. At this point, I'd rather have a bullet than let him continue to talk about her.

"Nothing happened. She told me." I growl, my hands up as he approaches me. The barrel of the gun gets wedged under my chin when he stops in front of me.

"You don't know. You weren't there. Maybe Sighn made us fuck. Maybe it was survival. Maybe it was just the carnal urge to fuck." Rafe clicks his tongue, smiling like he's replaying a memory in his head then his smile drops and the gun digs harder into my flesh.

"Show up here again and I will fuck her. And I'll make sure she likes it." I step back as I see red, fighting the urge to attack as I throw the door open and back out.

You wait for JJ in your Jeep when he suddenly appears, pushing you from the driver seat and taking over behind the wheel. He's so angry that it radiates off him. He appears unharmed but you can tell Rafe got to him as he squeals tires before driving off. He won't talk but every muscle you can see is bulging as he appears to grow angrier and angrier. It's dark when he finally pulls over at an empty beach and jumps out. You frantically follow after him, trying to get him to answer but he continues to ignore you as he picks up a log and wacks it off a fallen tree. The log splits so he picks up another one that's even bigger and uses it until it breaks too.

"Stop! Talk to me! What did he do?" You cry, running up behind him and wrapping you arms around his trembling body. JJ lets out an uneven breath, the wood falling to the ground as he pulls your arms off and turns. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown as he roughly grabs your face and gives you no warning before kissing you. You fist his shirt, kissing him back just as hard and hungrily. He backs you up until your back hits the Jeep, his body molded against yours as he steals your ability to breathe.

"JJ." He ignores you, grabbing the backs of your thighs and hauling you up his body. Your arms circle his neck as you kiss him harder, his hands digging into your ass. You'd made out before, even messed around during a few dry spells but nothing like this. Nothing this consuming and feverish.

"He got in my head." JJ finally says, one hand fisting your hair as his kisses grow angrier, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth.

"Get him out." You pant, tightening your hold around his waist and grinding against him. Your body was like a live wire, buzzing with need and pent up aggression. You felt ready to explode and your clit was throbbing painfully. JJ tears his lips from yours as he yanks your passenger door open, his hands digging into your flesh.

"I swear to god, I'll fuck you right here on the side of the road. Don't push me." JJ snarls, lowering you to your feet as he yanks his cut-off over his head. You swallow, taking in his taunt muscles and delicious abs. Sweat dripped from his brow and down his chest, giving you the urge to lick it. So you did. You ran your tongue up his sternum and over one of his nipples, feeling him tense under your touch. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth then he's fisting your hair, making you kiss him again.

"Nothing happened between me and Rafe." You whisper, tugging his belt loose and unzipping his shorts. His erection was straining against the fabric, begging to be freed. There was already a small wet spot on his boxers.

"Don't say his name." JJ snarls, cupping your breast roughly between kisses. He pinches your nipple through your shirt and bra, making you moan into his mouth as your hand slips inside his shorts, stroking him the best you can.

"I only want to say yours. Only you, J. Only you." You feel the moment he snaps as you free him from the confines of his shorts. He spins you around, forcing you to bend over the seat after yanking your shorts and panties down to your knees. Your legs were trapped closed as his fingers toyed with you from behind. Anyone could drive by and see but you didn't care. You didn't want soft and gentle. JJ was rough around the edges and passionate about the things he cared about. That's what you wanted.

"You're dripping down your thighs." JJ pants, his fingers entering you and making you moan loudly. He pumps his fingers twice before he pulls away, spreading your cheeks and burying his face in your pussy from behind. His mouth devours you and all you can do is take it, crying out into the back seat as his tongue works you into a frenzy on the side of the road. You're on the brink of cumming as he fucks you with his tongue before he's suddenly pulling back and replacing it with something much thicker. You'd had him in your mouth before but you'd never sex. His size was intimidating and for a moment you were afraid of the pain to come by being stretched open by him but it was otherworldly as he filled you in one swift thrust, the two of you groaning into the night. It burned but in the best way. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock inside you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." JJ grits out, withdrawing half way and slamming in hard. You lift up on your toes, pushing your ass out as he does it again and again, the vehicle rocking with his rough movements. Your eyes fall closed, not caring if a car did drive by at this point.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." JJ growls, his fingers tight on your hips as he starts to fuck you. You couldn't speak, your mind and body were too far gone.

"He got in my fucking head. The shit he said. God, I'll kill him if he so much as looks at you again." You didn't think he could fuck you any harder but he did. His body slammed into yours over and over again to the point you knew you'd be sore for days after this. You knew what this was. He was claiming you and he was making sure you knew it. He pulls back, angling his hips up and hitting something that has your eyes crossing and dropping down on the seat.

"JJ!" You scream his name as you come, your body trembling uncontrollably as your high washes over you. His cock seems to thicken inside you as you clench around him like a vice, making you see stars until you sag on the seat.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Gonna squeeze my fucking dick off." JJ growls, his hands on your hips the only thing keeping you on your feet. His heavy breathing and grunts are music to your ears as you push back against him, eager to make him cum. You look back, seeing his lips parted and hair hanging in his eyes as he watches himself disappear inside you. His eyes lock on yours and you feel yourself clench again, biting back a moan as his jaw tightens.

"Where do you want me to cum, baby?" He rasps, giving short hard thrusts that have your knees buckling.

"Inside me. Cum inside me, J." You cry, another orgasm triggered while he slams inside you harder and harder. JJ moans loudly, his movements growing sloppy until he finally stills, his cock pulsing deep inside you. You tremble with aftershocks as he finally slips out, a vulgar wet sound echoing between you as his warmth starts to run down your thighs.

"Such a beautfiul fucking sight." JJ's fingers collect your mixed arousal and gently shoves it back inside you, making you wince and moan. You feel him pull away then he's tugging your shorts and panties back up before carefully turning you to face him. His face is red from exertion and his cheeks flushed as he searches your face for any sign of distress. You could tell he was starting to panic.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I can't believe we just did that." The words fly out of his mouth as he fights to catch his breath.

"Shh, it's okay. Deep breaths." You reach up on your toes and kiss him, an ache deep inside you from where he just was. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him as he kisses you gentler than before. You could feel his heart racing from your chests being pressed together so you placed your palm over it, stroking the back of his hair.

"It's okay. I wanted it too, JJ." You pull away, letting your foreheads rest together as you feel him exhale and his heartbeat starts to even out.

"I'm sorry. Rafe just got in my fucking head. He said things and I just--."

"Stop. I'm not mad. I'm not hurt. I'm here for you, JJ. No matter what. Rafe is just a dick and he wanted to bait you." JJ sighs, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close.

"You're sure you're okay?" JJ whispers, his hands gently rubbing your back. You were sore as hell and your panties were soaked with his cum but it was worth it. The whole thing had been worth it. You didn't think you'd ever seen him so angry and wild but the sex was well worth it.

"Yes. Feel free to do that again anytime." You smirk, feeling relieved when he gives you a devilish smile. JJ kisses you, his dick already hard against and digging into your stomach.

"I plan on it."

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #obx2 #obx 3

455 notes · View notes