#he's still a short king in my heart though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cleo-fox · 9 months

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Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky.

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core.

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature.

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter.

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long.

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss. He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki fanfiction

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lunavrse · 1 month

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WHAT YOU HEARD

LANDO NORRIS

summary ★ : streets are saying yn finally broke up with her loser boyfriend and guess who couldn't be happier? if you guessed lando, you'd be wrong, it's actually her (but lando's a really close second).

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. with that out of the way, finally someone other than charles even though i still have like 2 drafts for him that i need to finish. ntm on the banner and article 😶‍🌫️. when you get to the hello kitty reactions pls just scroll💀 it was funny when i made it but now it's just... and i cba to remove it. sorry this is so short 🙏.

yn_ln added to their story.

user00: oooh, girl's night????

user01: love seeing my fav wags out and about

user02: what happened to your foot? hope you're okay🫶

yourfriend: lils on her phone probably texting alex🙄 they make me sick w how cute they are

user03: y'all look so good🥴

user04: I just know that club's hot as satan's arsehole, how do you look so good? what's your secret🎤

alex_albon: please bring my girlfriend back in one piece🙏

yn_ln: nah, she's my girlfriend now😪

user05: no ezra? break up abeg

maxfewtrell replied to your Close Friends story : did you forget she's on your cf

landonorris: do you think i'm stupid? obviously i removed her before posting this

maxfewtrell: so you do have a working brain cell🤗 congrats🎉

monaspencer replied to your story : wasteman is hilarious but deserved.

alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : may your efforts fail 🤞🙏

alex_albon: nothing personal mate🤷‍♂��

landonorris: WOW🤣🤣

landonorris: WDYM nothing personal, you're literally cursing me😒

randomfriend replied to your story : VINDICATION!!! i knew you couldn't read🥳

alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : why did he have to be such a simp, now i owe lily and mona money

yn_ln: you're a millionaire, you can afford it, so suck it up king👑🫶🏽

yn_ln: i actually don't want to know...

monaspencer replied to your Close Friends story : you just made me 200€ richer😘

lilymhe replied to your Close Friends story : now alex owes mo and i money, thank you🙏🏻

yn_ln: glad to be of service?

landonorris replied to your Close Friends story : i wonder who that handsome guy is

yn_ln: some stray i found wandering around and out of the goodness of my heart, i decided to bring into my home

landonorris: you're not funny

yn_ln: then why were you laughing at all my jokes earlier?

landonorris: i was laughing at how bad they were😕

yn_ln: sure...

charles_leclerc replied to your story : tangled on a date? how romantic

yourfriend replied to your Close Friends story : this doesn't look very "im done w yt men" 🤔

yn_ln: you're in my business, don't do that😁

yourfriend: but it's so interesting 🥴

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : made a cute lil divider so hopefully it distracts you from everything else😋. honestly this took so long bc i was mostly working with vibes, no writing, no thoughts, just vibes. i don't know how some of y'all are so fast, like you guys amaze me, my goal is to just get more than 1 smau per month out. also i will no longer be writing for charles leclerc bc someone said he looked like noah schnapp and i can't unsee it 💀💀 gonna have to change the drafts🥲

#lunavrse writes(?)⋆#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #instagram au #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris insta au #lando norris instagram au #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au #smau #social media au

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

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White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride.

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby.

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored.

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin.

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue.

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks.

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's.

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core.

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck.

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole.

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place.

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time.

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much.

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars.

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly.

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

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yrbladie · 6 months

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♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎WHEN THEY LOSE YOU ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ ayato, diluc, kaeya, neuvillette, zhongli

warnings ：angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of death and body (yours), sad bois, some have quite a comforting ending, others not so much, gn! reader, established relationship, implied marriage (ayato, diluc, zhongli), reader is called 'beautiful' (kaeya), spoiler free, non fluent writer

ㅤHe doesn't weep at first. Don't get him wrong, though, it's just that how could he ever fathom the thought of not having you by his side anymore?

ㅤYou were taken from his arms so suddenly that he wondered if you were ever real since the start, or only a fragment of his imagination, something that had always only belonged to his most beautiful dreams.

ㅤThe only way he knew you were indeed real was by the way people would talk behind his back when they thought he wasn't paying attention, talking about how sloppy he had become. Or the way he would still find small bits of you sprawled over his desk. Trinkets you gave him, and the letters you had sent to him the last time you went to visit your homeland for a week, knowing your lover would miss you too much.

ㅤIt suddenly dawns on him at that moment. How you were not there anymore, how he would never see you again, see your bright and beautiful smile or hear your giggle at his poor cooking skills.

ㅤAt that moment when he suddenly misses you, Ayato gets up and goes to visit you. In a place he never thought he would see you. Buried under the Sakura tree you planted with him last summer, the one where you both had wished for it to be as eternal as your love for each other.

ㅤHe sees your grave filled with flowers and gifts from the people you had known, and even finds the bouquet of flowers Thoma had sent under his name. And he kneels beside it, staring at your name written there.

ㅤHe still felt guilty, that he was not there for you when you needed him the most. That he was busy with work above anything else again. He could have protected you oh so easily, and he wasn't there.

ㅤ"I hope you can forgive this stupid lover of yours, my dear."

ㅤForgive him for everything. Forgive him for not loving you better, and for not being strong enough to be there when you died nor when you were buried.

ㅤAyato now knew, dreams are never meant to last.

ㅤWhen people saw you both together on the streets, with Diluc carefully holding your hand or touching the small of your back to guide you through the streets, like you were made of the finest porcelain, everyone thought they were going crazy.

ㅤThere was no way, the master Diluc Ragnvindr, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt, unmatched in every possible way, had gotten himself a lover.

ㅤWhen you arrived it was like a breath of fresh air for everyone who knew Diluc. You made him a different man, made people see a different side of him Diluc himself doubted existed.

ㅤAnd you were everything to him. Until the fateful day you were forcibly taken from him.

ㅤBut still, he couldn't hope to grieve, he had no time to let himself stop and rest, not even for a minute. In a minute so many things can happen, just like in a minute you were gone.

ㅤDiluc still had Mondstadt to protect, and he would focus solely on that for as long as there was still air in his lungs. Even if his torn heart still churned in pain everyday.

ㅤEven if in the darkest hours of the night, just before dawn, he would still sit alone in his dimly lit room, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. The walls of his manor, once filled with laughter and love, now seemed to echo with the emptiness of his loss. The air was heavy with the scent of fading memories.

ㅤEverything in your shared room is a bittersweet reminder of the warmth that had once been, now slipping through the cracks of time.

ㅤOutside, the world moved on, without you. And Diluc couldn't understand it, for his world was you. Every moment without you felt like an eternity.

ㅤAnd in those short moments he wept. Letting the pain flow freely, as if by releasing it, he could somehow reach across the chasm that separated you both. And he still could somehow feel your presence in brief moments, a soft whisper in the breeze or a fleeting glimpse in a dream.

ㅤDiluc had experience in mourning, and he knew that one day, the sharpness of his pain might dull, but his love for you would remain eternally vibrant, a testament to the life you had shared.

ㅤIn his own way, he would carry on, honoring your memory with each step forward, holding you close in the chambers of his heart, as he navigated the path of grief, one tear and one memory at a time.

ㅤIn that way, Diluc could forever hold you close to his heart somehow. The idea that you would have liked that he kept protecting those you had come to love, gave him comfort as he got up for another day.

ㅤYou were his first, but also his last.

ㅤOh, to be loved by the Cavalry Captain, with his deceiving smiles and well thought words. People used to call him such a heartbreaker before you came along and showed to all that Kaeya Alberich could be so much more than that.

ㅤIt seemed like he always had a smile reserved only for you. Different from the grins and crooked smiles he gave for others. With you nothing was ever fake, you had managed to tear down the walls he built to keep himself safe each and every time, no matter how much he tried to keep you at an arm's length.

ㅤBefore Kaeya even noticed you had already made a home in his heart and had no plans of leaving.

ㅤBut of course, fate had always found its way to mock him. He could but only watch as your life slipped past his fingers like sand, no matter how much he held onto you and begged the skies not to take you. Not you too.

ㅤIn the end, Kaeya still had to carry back your lifeless body to Mondstadt, back to your home where you belonged.

ㅤBut did he still belong there now? He was once again reminded of his purpose, the destiny that hung heavily above his head, like a death sentence forever haunting and taunting him. A destiny he just couldn’t seem to escape.

ㅤCursed to loneliness, to destruction. He should have known he didn’t deserve all the happiness you had brought along with your love to his wretched life.

ㅤYou had slipped away, leaving behind a void that seemed insurmountable. In the beginning, Kaeya refused to acknowledge the cruel twist of fate. He clung to the hope that this was all a nightmare, a cruel illusion that would dissipate with the morning light.

ㅤDays turned into nights, and reality set in, stubborn and unyielding. The denial that had once shielded him from the harsh truth began to crumble like a fragile dam battered by the relentless waves of sorrow.

ㅤHe still remembered everything about you. While others would talk about how sweet you were to everyone, Kaeya would remember the laughter shared on lazy Sunday mornings, the whispered promises exchanged under a blanket of stars, and the simple joys of a life built together.

ㅤHe still had your portrait on his desk, a painful reminder of how beautiful you looked when you smiled up at him. And he still wondered how you were. Are you happy now, wherever you are? Are you safe?

ㅤOr do you miss him like he misses you?

ㅤKaeya only found solace on those lonely starry nights, where he laid by himself on the grassy field he always hated, saying the grass always got stuck at his hair as you laughed, calling him such a drama king.

ㅤAnd as the first rays of dawn began to set in, he smiled.

ㅤThe pain remained, a constant companion, but it transformed into a tribute—a testament to a love that transcended the boundaries of mortality. With a heavy heart, he got up, in a silent acknowledgment that life, though forever altered, would continue.

ㅤHe would carry your cherished memories with him into an uncertain tomorrow. With a newfound strength—a resilient ember burning in the ashes of loss, Kaeya had to carry on.

ㅤEven if his fate overtakes him once more one day, the whispers of your voice, urging him to embrace life would always remind him that there was something out there worth fighting for. And that one day, when his body and heart rests for one last time, he will meet you again.

ㅤThe skies of Fontaine have never been cloudier than since the day you died. The rain poured down, seeming endless. Like a mourning prayer for another loss the nation held.

ㅤYour funeral was quiet and quite lonely. You had not really been a person that went out each and everyday, or that easily befriended all that you met through your day. You were a common person, like any other in Fontaine, maybe just a little weird with your outlander ways.

ㅤBut Neuvillette still loved you anyway.

ㅤYour love for each other was nothing grand nor loud. It was almost timid, but shined brightly like an unwavering ember.

ㅤSo it didn't come as a surprise that no one knew about your relationship with each other. Neuvillette was, before anything, an important and key figure in Fontaine, his every move scrutinized under the city's gaze, yet whose true emotions remain hidden behind a mask of stoicism.

ㅤEven to the end, he couldn't even attend your funeral. Watching from the sidelines, like an outsider. He watched as your loved ones paid their respects, leaving their flowers and good wishes that you now may be safe, in the arms of the gods.

ㅤNeuvillette wanted to scoff at this. The gods were silent as their people suffered under their gaze. And most of all, there was no space for people like you on their golden mighty thrones.

ㅤWhen everyone parted and left only your lonely tombstone, did Neuvillette finally came to pay his own respects as the rain fell heavier, a reflection of how he felt inside. Like a storm that could never break free from the clutches of a well maintained facade of a composed judge.

ㅤYou made him so vulnerable as each time you touched his skin, his heart longed for more of you, with feelings he couldn't understand.

ㅤIf only he had noticed sooner, if only he had met you sooner.

ㅤIf only you were still here. To show him comfort once more.

ㅤBut as the calm and collected Iudex wept by the lonely grave, you were still gone.

ㅤAnd in the next day and even the next after that, every day became an act. An imperturbable, endless theatrical piece. Worthy of even being presented at the opera house.

ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still conducted each trial with unperturbed accuracy, the outside seemed to have forgotten about you. But not him, never.

ㅤHe still heard your voice, just outside his office, while you laughed with the Melusines. He still asked for two cups of tea to be prepared and people wondered who the other cup was for. And he still had the official documents where you accidentally doodled on and had apologized profusely for doing it, but Neuvillette had never held it against you.

ㅤAnd he still loved you. Each day when the rain started again, the pitter patter sound followed the judge as he disappeared through the corners of Fontaine to find you once again.

ㅤHis life was destined to be eternal, and so was his love for you, despite the fact you weren't by his side anymore.

ㅤAnd as Neuvillette still found small flowers and trinkets left on your grave, he knew he would not be the only one to forever remember about you.

ㅤThe God of Contracts was no stranger to loss and to mourning. He himself had buried more friends than he could count.

ㅤHe had an immortal soul and an unyielding memory. His friends were forever reminders on his everyday life, that he got to walk the places they never had a chance to see.

ㅤEvery time, he caught himself reminiscing about you, about your shared laughter under the bustling night time of Liyue, and the dreams over breakfast.

ㅤAnd how fate took you away from him.

ㅤThe town now seemed to be filled with a haunting silence, even if nothing much had changed. The vendors still called for him to eat and buy their products, he still watched the same plays and stories. But now every corner held a memory, a reminder.

ㅤDays turned to nights, and nights into days, but the pain persisted, insistently. Zhongli found solace in the shadows of the past, where memories of your happiness still lingered like a sweet melody.

ㅤHe never thought of himself as someone to be stuck in time. But your presence and your loss seemed to have made an ever deeper impact on his life than he initially thought.

ㅤAs the years went by, he would still wait for you. With the hope and the heartache that the skies would relent at his incessant prayers and return you to his arms, in another form, in another life, it didn't matter.

ㅤStill, he knew he was not alone. Hu Tao would pat him in the back gently in an almost nudging manner every day, encouraging him to go out again, to rest more. And slowly Zhongli felt like he could gather the shattered pieces of his heart again. Like his wounded soul still had a purpose.

ㅤEven if his body and mind eroded until there was nothing more left of him, he thought that all the memories of you would still be his most cherished treasures.

ㅤAnd so, in the quiet town where love once blossomed and sorrow cast its shadow, Zhongli would learn once more to carry the weight of loss with gentleness. The stars above forever witnesses of his eternal and enduring love for you.

ㅤIn the small shrine he built above your grave, where Zhongli could still feel your presence sometimes, through your pictures and the incense. His heart was finally at peace.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ《◇》

#genshin impact angst #ayato angst #diluc angst #genshin angst #neuvillette angst #zhongli angst #kaeya angst #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin

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bluesidez · 1 month

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GymRat!Miguel Part 5

content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)

word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)

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GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.

“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”

“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”

“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”

“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”

“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”

“Baby I never said that!”

“Whatever Miguel 🙄”

“ㅜㅜ”

“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”

“Go get ready for class 😒”

“😞”

GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.

You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.

You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.

Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.

The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.

“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”

Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.

What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.

You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.

You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.

He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.

“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”

You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.

You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.

“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.

“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.

You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.

The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.

He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.

This was definitely the best gift of the night.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.

He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?

You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.

This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.

GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.

GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.

“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.

“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.

When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.

“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”

“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.

You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”

“Deal.”

Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.

The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.

So stubborn.

GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.

“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”

“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”

“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”

“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”

“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”

“This just proves that my gf is better”

“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”

“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”

“I’ll literally be in college next year”

“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”

Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.

He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.

“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”

“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”

“What are you yapping about”

“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”

“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”

“It burns all the same”

“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”

“Gabriel.”

“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”

“Cabrón”

“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”

“THE BIG C WORD?”

“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”

“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”

“Bastard”

“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”

It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.

Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.

“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”

There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.

Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.

“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”

“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”

Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.

“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”

“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”

“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”

“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”

“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.

“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.

Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.

“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”

“I don’t think-”

“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”

“Ma, she has her own family-”

“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”

The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.

“CHECKMATE!”

Miguel still wanted to throttle him.

GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.

He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.

The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.

The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.

You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”

It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.

The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.

Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.

Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.

You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.

“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.

“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.

Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”

Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.

“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.

“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.

Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.

“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.

“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”

“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”

Miguel just sighs dramatically.

You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.

Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”

Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.

Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”

“Of course,” you say.

He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.

GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.

Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.

“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.

Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.

“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”

Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.

GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.

You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.

You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.

Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.

“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”

“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”

“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.

“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”

Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”

“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.

Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.

He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.

He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.

“Each shade is for a different feeling!”

There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.

He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”

He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.

He smiles to himself and takes out one more.

GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.

“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.

“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”

Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.

“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”

Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.

“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.

“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”

Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.

“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.

“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”

“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”

“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”

“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.

He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.

“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.

He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.

GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.

“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.

You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.

It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.

It was also a great place to makeout.

Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.

It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.

That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.

GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.

You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.

George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.

You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.

And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.

He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.

Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.

First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.

It was as if he was 8 and not 20.

His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.

Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.

“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.

“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.

“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”

“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”

Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.

“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.

“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.

“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.

“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.

“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.

Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”

“Uh, no.”

Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”

“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.

“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.

“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.

George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.

Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.

GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.

His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.

You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.

Miguel felt faint.

His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.

You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?

All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.

After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.

You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.

Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.

This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵

As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm

#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x plussize!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x chubby!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara imagine

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anadiasmount · 13 days

Note

u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3

no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: request above!

wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.

you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.

everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.

“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.

“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.

“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.

“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.

you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.

jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”

“hate you? why would i hate you?”

“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.

hate you? that’s impossible.

“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.

“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”

“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.

“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.

“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”

you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.

he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.

jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.

“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.

the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.

your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.

you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.

you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.

you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.

a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?

the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.

“you’re lying to me…”

“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”

“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.

“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”

“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”

“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.

“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.

“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.

“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.

“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.

“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.

two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham smut

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roanniom · 9 months

Note

King Steve flirting with inexperienced never been flirted with reader

Smartest

King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader

Read Part 2

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV/unprotected sex, teasing, coercion but consensual, King!Steve is a manipulative douchebag and is his own warning

“You’re really good at this stuff,” Steve says, watching for your reaction as you scribble math equations across the notebook paper. He can see embarrassment bloom across your features and he has to suppress the zing of triumph he feels. It’s so easy.

It makes him want to push it.

“It’s kinda hot.”

The pencil stops in its path and your eyes shoot up to his, brow raised.

“I’m not…that’s…you’re messing with me, Harrington,” you finally settle on in what you hope is a dismissive tone. Steve notes the way your hand writing becomes more shaky. He sucks on his teeth for a second before chuckling.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to be modest. Hot girl like you must be raking in the compliments.”

You shake your head but don’t look up from your work. Well…his work. The homework that you’re doing for him even though you were supposed to be tutoring him so he doesn’t fail algebra and miss out on basketball.

But his hand is suddenly on your knee.

“Look at you ignoring me. What, you tutor a football player that’s stealing all your attention? Nothing left for me?”

“I…I don’t tutor the football team,” you answer, dumb in spite of your high IQ. You look up and Steve’s grin is big, glad he could finally distract you. He’d gotten bored with the repetition of watching you do his homework. He’s got nothing else lined up today, might as well have some fun. It’s not like his parents are home and it’s a shame to waste a big empty house.

“Thought I was your favorite pupil,” Steve says in a mock whine, giving you puppy dog eyes that seem to short circuit your brain.

Bingo.

You can do his homework later.

“Y-you are,” you admit shyly. It makes Steve smile at you again and your heart bursts, the shriveled up crush you’ve been nursing for years finally being watered and rehydrated. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

“Good. Because you’re my favorite hot tutor,” Steve says with a wink. You swallow visibly at that and Steve laughs. “You’re still acting like nobody’s ever called you hot before and I call bullshit.”

“No….nobody’s ever called me hot before,” you say in a small voice. Steve’s eyes widen for a second. He’d been pressing on that point, not really thinking too hard about whether or not it could be true. It was just mindless flirting. And pretty lazy flirting, to be honest.

He takes the space of a second to wonder if he feels bad about your clear inexperience and insecurity. Instead, he feels a dark, sour tinge of excitement. Your obvious interest is an opportunity. He doesn’t take any time to analyze whether he should be ashamed of that thought.

“Do you like it when I call you hot?” Steve asks. It’s not a question. Not really. Not when he knows the answer is yes. But he’s angling for something as his hand slides up from your knee to your thigh. You drop the pencil fully and give your attention completely to him.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Do you like it when I do…this?” Steve ask, lifting your arm and delivering a kiss to the inside crook of your elbow. You squirm but a smile starts forming on your face.

“Yeah.”

“And this?” Steve asks, moving up to kiss your bare shoulder, just beside the spaghetti strap of your sun dress.

“Uhuh.”

Steve moves to the edge of his seat so that his knee moves between your thighs under your skirt. You squeak a bit at the new proximity. One of Steve’s large hands grips your waist, pulling you to him so he can mouth at the side of your neck.

“What about this?”

The feeling of his lips on your skin lights you on fire and you find it hard to keep responding.

“Oh…” Your thighs try to close, a sudden twinge of need at their apex urging you to seek out friction. You end up squeezing your legs around his knee which has pushed between them. Steve pulls back and smirks.

"Oh," he teases. He slides his hand over the slope of your hip, to your stomach and down to your lower abdomen over the fabric of your skirt. Steve’s heavy lidded eyes find yours. “You seemed to really like that, huh?”

“I….I….” you stammer, unsure of what to do with your hands so you drop them to rest shakily on his forearms. Steve leans forward again, dropping his wet open mouth to the curve of your neck and sucking.

“Oh…fuck,” you whimper broke my. Steve chuckles against your spit-slicked skin.

“How am I supposed to learn from you if you’re going to set a bad example like that?” he asks wryly. You blink at him, watching as his hands move to the buttons at the neckline of your sun dress. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly as your breathing speeds up, both with arousal and anticipation.

Steve undoes the top button with deft fingers. Instead of shrinking away, you arch your back almost imperceptibly towards his hands. Steve definitely notices.

“Ohhhh,” he says teasingly. “Or does the tutor want to learn a thing or two from the student?” His voice is lilting and light, but his eyes are dark. You look away for a second before looking back at him. Eyes the tentative. Nod small. Steve nods back along with you. “Okay then. We’ll first of all, we have to have the right workspace, don’t we?”

When you nod, Steve surprises you by standing up and swiping all the books, papers, and writing utensils off the dining room table and onto the ground in one broad sweep of his arm.

“Steve!” you squeal out in surprise, slapping a hand over your mouth. You know his parents are out of town and the two of you are alone, but when he grabs you and manhandled you to sit on the table, you suppress the startled shriek that tries to come out. Steve pulls you to the edge of the table and bullies his way between your legs, your thighs bracketing his hips. Steve’s hands return to the buttons of your dress.

“Then we have to gather the right materials. See what we’re working with, right?” He pauses, looking at you for confirmation as if you have any idea what he’s saying. You nod mindlessly and Steve proceeds to rip open the last few buttons, exposing your bra clad breasts. He hums in satisfaction as you cringe in embarrassment over the exposure. But all embarrassment leaves you when his big hands close over your breasts, squeezing and groping appreciatively.

“Mmmm yeah. These’ll do,” Steve hums before leaning in and kissing over where they swell out of their cups from the squeeze of his strong hands. You gasp when he yanks the bra down to expose them fully. Steve’s brows life. “These tits’ll definitely do.”

Next thing you know, Steve is kissing and sucking his way from one breast to the other, leaving you a twitching mess in his arms. You feel a hardness press into your apex beneath the skirt of your dress and it occurs to you that he’s turned on just like you are. Which is a stupid thought since he’s literally sucking hickeys all over you right now, but your lust addled mind can still barely comprehend that this is happening right now.

When you begin rolling your hips into that hardness, Steve takes notice.

Pulling back, lips wet, he grins at you.

“Me playing with these tits not enough for you?” he asks, one hand still fondling your breast. Lucky for you, he doesn’t seem interested in a reply. Instead he flips your skirt up, showing the dark wet patch that’s bloomed in your panties and - more importantly - the erection clear in his tight jeans. “That’s alright. It’s not enough for me either.”

You blink slowly as you watch him grind his hard on against your clothed pussy. The friction catches on your clit and you gasp, unable to take your eyes off the outline of the shape pressing against you. Steve takes your hand and brings it down between your bodies, squeezing to make you grip his cock.

“Feel that? You did this to me,” he says, almost accusatory if not for the chuckle. A possessive thrill of pride runs down your spine and you squeeze at him, making him grunt in appreciation. Steve looks up at you from beneath his lashes in a faux display of boyishness. “Gonna help me out here?”

You nod feverishly.

“Yes…I…please–,” is all you manage to get out before Steve’s mouth is on you. The kiss is deep and possessive and aggressive and you feel absolutely devoured. His hands feel like they are everywhere at once, paradoxically, as he pulls at you and grips you and grabs you. So distracted see you by his mouth and tongue that you barely register a moment of cold air hitting between your legs before the warm slide of something hot and thick rubs against your opening.

“Now for the big lesson,” Steve says, the corner of his mouth curving lasciviously. The fat head of his cock teases at your clit, making you sink your nails into his arms. He’s big. Huge even. And that’s the last thought you have before he’s begin to slide himself inside you, splitting you open.

“Steve!” It comes out in a rush with all the air he punches out of you with the penetration. Steve kisses your neck and hums.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

He bottoms out and there’s nothing but your ragged breaths to fill the silence for a moment before he’s pulling out, causing you to reel again.

“I know it’s big, baby, I know,” he coos. The taunting cockiness should put you off, but for some reason it heats you up even more. One his hands finds your clit and you let out a moan at the expert circles he begins to rub in.

Your walls relax with the stimulation, and your increasing wetness makes it easy for Steve to begin fucking you in earnest.

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

His words ring in your ears and it feels like everything begins and ends with Steve in your line of sight.

“Oh…oh…” you moan with each inward stroke. You’re rocketing towards a climax better than your most lavish fantasies.

Steve Harrington is fucking you. On his dining room table.

Your arms are around his neck, but eventually he pushes you down so your back is flat against the wooden surface. With his hands on your hips, Steve holds you steady so he can piston his hips at a break neck speed. Your entire body rocks against the table, Steve’s eyes focused on the bounce of your breasts with the force of each thrust.

“This is so much better than homework, fuck!” he groans out. You let out a breathless laugh at that and Steve looks down at you. “This is what you wanted, right? For me to fuck you all this time?”

The embarrassment surges up again but he hits a spot deep down inside that makes you whine instead. Steve takes it as confirmation.

“Bet you’ve been wet every time you’ve come over here. Just hoping I’d fuck this - fuck. This tight little pussy.”

“Yes. Yes, Steve.”

“Yes, Steve,” Steve mimics your pathetic, breathy confession. He’s close himself now, and his fingers are sure to leave bruises from the force of him squeezing you. “Next time I should just bend you over while you’re doing my work and fuck you. How’s that sound?”

You don’t say anything, too far gone at this point, and Steve laughs.

“Probably wouldn’t be able to keep doing my work with my cock in you. Makes you too brainless apparently.”

You’re practically drooling as you gaze up at him with hazy eyes, seconds from your orgasm. You being so out of it is what’s doing it most for Steve.

“Christ, look at you. Smartest girl in school and here you are, fucked stupid. It’s so. Fucking. Hot.”

And you - someone who until today had never been called hot ever - find yourself breaking into a million pieces with his words. Your orgasm crashes over you and you spasm around him, back arching off the table as you let out a massive cry.

~*~

Over time you are able to build up to a point where you don’t go as brainless. Eventually you’re able to kind of still do his homework as Steve fucks you.

But inevitably during every tutoring session there comes a point where Steve hits that place inside you just right, and his filthy words filter into your ear - and you go dumb.

Just the way he likes it.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog and comment to let me know!

Read Part 2

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #king!steve harrington #king!steve harrington smut #king!steve harrington x reader

2K notes · View notes

andvys · 2 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! jealousy, angst, low self-esteem (kinda?), mentions of the upside down. weed and alcohol consumption. I will not spoiler anything here, so read with caution

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You blindly began to follow your feelings, hanging onto a hope that died just as quickly as it came.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with this whole idea and we kept talking about this moment for weeks and now its finally here, I hope you guys are gonna enjoy it as much as we did hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The spring wind blows through the open windows in your room, touching your skin and slightly lifting the ends of your new dress. The smell of vanilla and the floral scent of your perfume lingers in the air. You’re leaning closer to your mirror as you apply your favorite gloss to your lips.

A tingling, exciting feeling bubbles in your stomach, your heart jumping every few seconds or so at the thought of seeing him today.

Steve’s reactions were everything you were hoping for when you teased him at the diner and in his car, yesterday. His blushing cheeks and the wide, darkened eyes filled you with victory after you had placed a kiss upon his flushed skin. You are still not sure what had caused you the sudden rush of courage, but you’re glad that it hit you because the way he looked at you, the way he reacted, the way his breath hitched in his throat finally gave you the last push to do what you had always wanted to do. Today, you’re finally going to give in to your feelings.

The nervous, insecure part of you is telling you that there is still a big chance that he might reject you, that you will ruin this thing between you both by making the final move.

And usually that weak part of your mind would win, it would fill you with enough humiliating images to pull back, to make you rethink your decision, to keep you hiding in the shadows, the way you always did.

But you’re no longer letting it win.

You will do this, even if you might lose your dignity.

Placing the lip gloss back on your vanity, you reach for your favorite necklace, and put it on. You touch up your hair one last time, fixing your bangs before you take a step back, eying the red and white sundress, the little bows on the straps, the dainty flowers on the material, the shortness of it that exposes enough of your skin to drive him crazy… you hope.

‘Just make your move, babe. Do you really think King Steve would reject you?’

Your smile falls a little when Billy’s voice echoes in your mind.

Every memory of your best friend brings a hurtful pang to your heart.

He was the only one who knew about your feelings for Steve and surprisingly he kept encouraging you to ask him out, to make your move.

Would he be proud of you now?

Or would he still make fun of you for liking someone like Steve?

You step away from the mirror and walk over to the window, closing it before you leave your room and make your way downstairs. Eddie isn’t picking you up for once, even though he called you three times already, asking if he should come pick you up and if you’re truly feeling good enough to drive yourself again – you are. The headaches are gone, the dizziness is gone too. All that is left are the nightmares and the sudden rushes of anxiety but you are okay, you feel okay.

You walk over to the dresser in your hallway, reaching inside the key bowl to retrieve your car keys when something else catches your eye. The one single key, lying in there, you reach for it, furrowing your brows as you trace your finger along the metal, letting it fall in your palm.

You still remember the day when Max had showed up at your house, asking for you to take Billy’s car before Neil would destroy it in a moment of rage.

‘He’d want you to have it anyway.’ She said as she handed you the keys.

You remember how you broke down crying the moment you got into the driver's seat. You missed your best friend and it felt so wrong to sit in the place that once belonged to him.

You got the windshield fixed and anything else that needed to be repaired, before you parked it in your garage, planning to never open the gate again and just leave the car there until Max would ask for it back. And, you did leave it there, for a few weeks at least.

Your car broke down on a hot Friday afternoon and the mechanic at the local shop told you that it would take a few weeks to get it fixed. You walked and used the bus for a few days, and then the rain and the storms crashed upon Hawkins, giving you no choice but to take the blue Camaro.

Max even joked about it, she told you that it was Billy who caused your car to break down and who somehow let it rain and storm over the town so you would finally take his beloved car out for a ride because it’s just too pretty to be hidden and locked away in a dark, cold garage.

You’d sometimes drive around at night, when the streets were empty and no one was around.

When you visited your sister in Indianapolis, you took his car.

But now it’s been a while, the last time you sat behind that steering wheel was right before the apocalypse almost hit the town.

A sigh falls from your lips as you stare at the key.

“Not today,” you murmur as you place it back where it laid before and reach for your keys.

The drive to Eddie’s new place isn’t a long one, he only lives a few streets away from you now, it would only be a ten minute walk but you desperately waited for the moment when you could finally drive again, and you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity today.

You missed this, sitting behind the steering wheel, instead of the passenger seat, longing to be the one in control. You missed picking the music yourself – not that Eddie’s music taste is a bad one, you just need a mix of everything, not just rock and heavy metal, sometimes you just need a girly pop song – not that you would ever admit it to him.

When you arrive at your destination and you pull up to Eddie’s driveway, you notice that Steve’s car isn’t there yet. Only Jonathan’s car is parked next to Eddie’s Impala.

Steve is never late, yesterday being the first time that he was the last one to arrive, so he is either still waiting for Robin or… running late is his new thing.

“There she is!” Eddie chuckles as opens the front door at the same time as you get out of your car, “and she’s here in one piece!”

A laugh tumbles from your lips as you close the door and lock your car before you make your way over to him, eying the new shirt he’s wearing – which is just another band tee that you have never heard of before. His curly hair up in a bun and a can of beer in his hand.

“I’m a good driver, what are you talking about, Eds?”

He furrows his brows, lips curling into an amused smile, “are you?”

You walk up the steps to his porch, greeting him with an eye roll, “you know what, next time I’ll pick you up.”

He smirks, using his index finger to point at your car.

“What, with your baby Mustang over there?”

You squint your eyes at him, “nope, I’ll take the hidden gem in my garage.”

“Wait what… What hidden gem?”

“You’ll find out,” you wink at him, trying to brush past him when he stops you, placing his hand on your arm, he pulls you back softly.

“Wait.”

You raise your brows at him, “yes?”

He’s got the twinkle in his eyes, the one he always has when he’s happy about something. His lip twitches, pale cheeks slowly changing color, he’s barely able to contain his excitement as he bounces on his feet.

“Guess who scored a date?”

Your eyes widen, lips parting as you remember the pretty waitress from the diner.

Eddie is blushing, lips now curling into a full smile.

“Oh my god, really?” You ask as a grin appears on your face.

“Yeah! I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night, I can’t fucking wait, sweets.” He says with a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was so sweet a-and fuck… she’s gorgeous, don’t know how she said yes to me.”

You frown at him, reaching your hand out to pinch his cheek, “you’re a handsome, sweet boy, Edward, now shush. You’re gonna knock her off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

His eyes soften, he rubs the back of his neck before his fingers trace the scar on the side – you know that it’s now an insecurity of his, just like it is one of yours. Scars litter your skin from where a bat had left a gnarly wound on the back of your shoulder, from where Jason had hurt you, from where he had left reminders for you that he was the one who did this to you.

But your scars aren’t nearly half as bad as all the ones on his skin.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he murmurs, eyes flashing with doubt.

“So? It’s gonna be even more special then,” you shrug.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You won’t,” you smile at him, “you’ve got that special charm, one that makes others like you right away, you’re funny and you’re sweet, now stop doubting yourself or I’ll kick your ass and hunt down every asshole who ever made you feel otherwise.”

He chuckles at your words, though his eyes are still soft as he looks at you. He doesn’t doubt you, he knows that you would actually hunt down every name on the list of people who hurt him.

“Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good,” you say, sternly.

“Good,” he nods.

You stare at each other for a moment before you both burst into giggles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and he pulls you inside his house, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your dress.

“Who’d you dress up for, sweets?” He asks, “there’s no hot guys here.”

“Well, aren’t you humble?”

“No hot guys besides me, of course,” he corrects himself after clearing his throat, smirking at you.

You only shake your head in response.

You pass by the kitchen and the big shelf that was specifically customized for Wayne’s mug collection. Vinyls are on the walls in the long hallway that leads to the living room where you hear the chatter of your friends and the faint music that sounds through the house.

The smell of weed already lingering in the air.

The sound of Nancy’s giggle, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard in a while makes you furrow your brows.

“Argyle is back?”

Your surprised voice along with the wide eyes you look at him with make him chuckle. He knew you weren’t paying attention when he told you about it days back. You were too distracted by whatever daydream you were stuck in as he let both you and Steve know that Argyle was coming back to spend the summer in Hawkins before going off to college in September – something that Eddie definitely won’t be doing, he won’t be going to college, he won’t be going anywhere, at least not now, not yet, maybe not ever, even though it’s all he ever wanted.

He walked the stupid stage, he snatched his diploma and he finally flipped Higgins the bird, despite the glares, despite the whispers of the people who still blamed him for what had happened weeks back but it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter what they say or think because he got people who believed him, people who care about him, people who were willing to fight for him, people who are worth staying for.

“Yeah, he’s here the whole summer.”

“Ooh, means we’re gonna get high a lot, cool,” you giggle.

“Like we don’t do that all that time,” Eddie rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips as he pushes towards the living room, your feet carrying you closer and closer to your friends.

Despite Steve not being here yet, you already feel the rush of excitement mixed with the nervousness of what you plan on doing, flushing through your veins.

Your eyes first fall on Jonathan and Nancy who are standing by the door that leads out into Eddie’s backyard, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips when she sees you.

“Hi!” She waves at you, a friendly look on her face.

“Hey,” you smile at her before you look over at her boyfriend, greeting him as well. You then turn your head to your right, your smile widening when your eyes meet Argyle’s already very dazed ones.

He stands up from his seat on the couch, his hair falling in front of his face a little, he opens his arms, revealing his Bob Marley shirt to you.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he jokes as he steps towards you, “come here, chica.”

You chuckle, leaving Eddie’s side to greet Argyle, who instantly pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of weed enveloping you, right away.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!”

“So soon?” He slurs, patting your head when you pull back again, chuckling when you swat his hand away. “You didn’t miss me?” He jokes as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, just the way Eddie did before, he pulls something out of his pocket, handing it to you, “here, got you a little gift from California.”

Your eyes lighten up in amusement, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at the blunt he’s holding, you take it, holding it up as you look up at him with a grin, “why thanks.”

“You gotta share that one with me,” Jonathan grins at you, lazily.

“You’ve had enough already,” Nancy rolls her eyes, though not without a smile on her lips. She pats his chest, “come on, let’s go outside.”

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna grab some more drinks,” Eddie says before he leaves the living room.

You all step out into the backyard, walking over to the little fire pit where the flames are already glowing, surrounded by the comfortable seats. The sound of water flowing from the stream filling the air with a fresh scent, the smell of flowers and the trees giving you a sense of peace.

Eddie’s backyard is comforting and nice, despite being close to the forest, it’s making you feel safe. He wouldn’t have this now if he hadn’t been dragged into a world of darkness – unlike you, he didn’t grow up in wealth, he didn’t have a fancy house, a fancy backyard with a pool. No. Eddie grew up in a lonesome house, one that certainly wasn’t as luxurious as yours or the one he lives in now. The house he grew up in was haunted by painful memories of his mother that he lost at a way too young age and his father who came and went as he pleased, it was the only thing that he had, the only thing he called his own, but that was taken from him too and he had no choice but to move in with his Uncle Wayne, who had done everything to give him a home – and now, Eddie gave him that back, he gave Wayne a home, a nice house with a nice roof over his head, a garden that he always wanted to have. Eddie had tried to keep the upside down a secret, he didn’t want to talk about what was out there, he didn’t want to worry him, he didn’t want to tell him where all the money actually came from but Wayne isn’t stupid and Eddie isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets from the people he loves and cares about.

You wonder what you would have told your parents if they were still here – would you have told them the truth about what actually happened at the Creel house? Or would you have kept it all a secret? You are certainly much better at keeping secrets hidden. Eddie couldn’t even look Wayne in the eyes when he told him that the bite marks on his skin came from a rabid dog and not from interdimensional bats.

Something cold touches your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise. You tilt your head up, meeting the eyes of your best friend again, “where’s your head at, sweets?” He chuckles, holding the can of diet pepsi out to you.

With furrowed brows, you look down at the drink and reach for it, “thanks,” you murmur, “and uh, nowhere. I’m just fascinated by your backyard.”

His dimples show when a laugh escapes him, he takes a seat beside you, snatching away the blunt from your lap, he places it between his lips and uses his red lighter to light it up. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back, puffing out the smoke into the sky before he takes a look around, “it’s nice isn’t it?”

You nod, pulling the tab on your pepsi, it opens with a pop.

“It’s better than mine.”

He turns his head to look at you, a bewildered look on his face, “you’re crazy, sweets. You got a pool.”

“You got one too!” You chuckle, pointing to the pool that has yet to be used, it’s warm out, not hot yet.

“Yeah, well yours is fucking huge, and you got a hot tub too!”

“You got a hot tub, chica?” Argyle gasps from your right, “oh, you’re rich rich.”

“Correction, my parents were rich.”

“Correction, we’re all rich now,” Jonathan adds, pointing at you with a dazed smile.

“Rich isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Nancy mumbles as she takes a sip of her soda.

“Then what term would you use, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, shaking his head at her, “enlighten us.”

Nancy clears her throat, placing her elbow on the wooden armrest, “we’re taken care of.”

Jonathan snorts, putting his hand on her thigh as he gives her an amused smile, while she already rolls her eyes at whatever is about to leave his mouth – there’s no annoyance behind her eyes though, no tension in her body from where he touched her, unlike with Steve, who she always looked tense and irritated with. Back then you didn’t understand why, there were so many questions in your mind when you watched them and when she left him – how could anyone be irritated with Steve? How could anyone be tense with someone that provides so much love and warmth to the people he so deeply cares about? How could she leave him? How could she break his heart? Who could ever hurt Steve Harrington?

“Just admit it, we’re rich.”

A groan echoes through the backyard, one that doesn’t belong to Eddie, Nancy or anyone else sitting in the circle. You all turn your heads towards the house, finding a very annoyed Robin making her way over to you, a six pack of beers in her hand, sunglasses perched on her nose even though the sun is starting to go down already.

Eddie isn’t surprised at her barging into his home, she does it all the time, to him, to you, to Steve, he doesn’t mind it though.

You straighten your back, holding your drink tighter as you look away from her, waiting for Steve to walk through the door.

The feelings inside of you start to rise again, your heart picking up the pace as your skin starts burning from the excitement.

Robin plops down in the seat next to Eddie, placing the beers on the ground as she slumps back, sighing loudly.

Everyone’s watching her, expecting a rant already but you’re still fixated on the door, waiting for him.

“Buckley, why so angry?”

She pulls her sunglasses up into her hair, turning to face him, “I’m glad you asked,” she murmurs as she reaches for one of the beers, “Dingus ditched me, so I had to walk all the way here!” She throws her arms up dramatically.

You furrow your brows at her words, the burning on your skin beginning to die down just as fast as it came.

Argyle and Jonathan chuckle at her.

“You live 3 blocks away from here…” Nancy mumbles.

“Not the point, Nance,” she argues, glaring at her friend.

“Wait, so Steve isn’t coming?” Jonathan slurs.

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, your hand clutching the can tighter as you dig your feet into the grass beneath you, a weird feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Wetting his dick with Heidi seems more fucking important today,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she raises the beer to her lips.

Your heart drops.

The burning in your skin disappears completely as the fire is replaced by ice, the coldness of it freezing your whole body, stopping your heart and taking the false hope away as it kills every feeling that had taken home inside of you just seconds ago.

Your eyes are stuck on her like you’re waiting, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke, that he will be here soon, that he isn’t out with some other girl after what happened between you and him yesterday.

“Whoa, what?” Eddie mumbles, holding his hands up, “so… he’s on a date with the girl he didn’t want to keep seeing?”

“Yep.”

Every ounce of excitement is now replaced by the sickness in your stomach, the lump in your throat that makes you struggle to breathe.

What were you thinking?

That the game you played wasn't just a game to him? That it was something more than that? That he wanted you just the way you always wanted him? That he could ever feel something for you?

You don’t know whether you want to laugh at yourself or cry.

How saddening it is to long for someone who was forced to like you.

While you were getting ready, making yourself look pretty for him, thinking that he might like you in this dress – he was getting ready to take out another girl, a girl that he chose to like.

You slowly slump back in your seat when Eddie’s laughter pulls you back into reality. You blink, masking the shocked, pained look on your face with a relaxed one as you take a sip of your drink, hoping that it will get rid of the lump sitting in your throat – it doesn’t. Nothing does.

Your friends move on to another topic, while you stay there, where you will stay for a while now. The pain of the rejection that has never even taken place, slowly sinking in and everything around you begins to suffocate you – the dress you are wearing, the necklace around your neck, even the presence of your friends.

You don’t want to be here any longer, you need to be alone.

But you can’t go, not now, not yet.

It would be too soon, too obvious and they can’t know, no one can know about your feelings for Steve, about how much it hurts to feel that way for him.

So you hide the pain as best as you can, you nod along to your friends' conversation, you speak and you laugh when you have to, even when everything inside of you wants you to cry both out of sadness and anger.

You’re not even angry at him, you couldn’t be angry at him even if you tried to be. He doesn’t know about your feelings – if he did, he wouldn’t have filled you with false hope, you know he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t string you along, you know he’s not the type of person to do something like that, not even to you. But you really thought that you had something, that there was something between you, that’s why you let your walls crumble, that’s why you started acting upon your feelings, that’s why you were ready to do more than just the subtle touches and the flirtations.

You wait, you wait for the right moment to leave, when everyone is distracted enough, you get up, after whispering an apology, a lie into Eddie’s ear, knowing that he doesn’t believe you, that he will probably call you later or even show up to check on you. But he lets you go.

And as you leave your friends, making your way back into the house, their laughter echoes in your ears, their happy voices and the cheerfulness they’re all feeling, that you were supposed to feel too.

You blink back the tears, not wanting them to fall just yet.

You make your way back to your car, not wasting a second to start it and drive home, your vision blurred and your throat hurting from how much you want to cry.

How foolish it was of you to think that you could ever stand a chance – there was never one to begin with. You will always be the one in the shadows, the one to secretly watch him, the one to secretly want him, the one with the jealousy and the heartache, the one wishing to be anyone but herself because maybe then, he would want you too.

The smell of smoke from the campfire is now lingering on your clothes and in your hair, tears are now falling freely, ruining the makeup that you have spent hours on, the makeup that you can’t wait to wash off now.

You don’t even want to think about him.

You don’t want to ask yourself what he’s doing now.

He touched you so softly, so subtly, and yet it did everything to set your insides on fire, to make you feel special, even if only for a short moment.

Now he is touching someone else, in far more special ways.

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips when you step inside your home, it’s cold and empty, something that you have felt like for a very long time until he started the fire inside of you, only to make it die again… and all without his knowledge.

You walk up the stairs and past your room, going straight into the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the day, as though it could ease the aching in your chest. You start the shower before you turn to the sink, not even bothering to look at your reflection in the mirror, it would only make you feel more pathetic.

You can feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, the quivering in your bottom lip.

You hate this, you hate the sadness that you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

You got no reason to be sad, you should have put your feelings aside, knowing that nothing would ever come out of it.

It was all so obvious, it was just teasing, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing ever happened, so why would it happen now? He just found another way of messing with you, so that you two wouldn’t go at each other's throats like before.

You just have to go back. No more teasing like this. No more letting yourself get sucked into delusions. He is just having fun while you crave something more with him and get hopeful.

You aren’t having fun. You wanted more.

You have no choice but to go back to how you were before this… thing started.

Once your makeup is off and your dress is now laying on the bathroom floor, you step inside the shower, letting the warmth envelope you, hoping for a sense of comfort from it.

Standing there for a moment, you let the water rain upon your skin, matching the pace of your tears that you’re willing away.

You will hunt Billy in the afterlife for making you believe that King Steve could ever want you.

You use your scented shampoo, hoping that it will get rid of the smell of smoke in your hair. You love campfire’s but you can’t stand the stench it leaves on your clothes and your hair.

Your hands run over your smooth skin as you wash your body, reminding you of the fact that you even shaved this morning – you couldn’t feel more stupid than you do right now.

Despite the loudness of your own voice cursing at you inwardly and the water hitting the glass, you hear the sound of your doorbell going off – multiple times.

“What the fuck,” you murmur in confusion.

It keeps ringing again and again – once, twice and it stops after a third time before it turns into rapid knocking.

You know it isn’t Eddie, he wouldn’t even have the patience to ring your doorbell and wait for you to open, he’d just barge right in.

You’d choose to ignore it if the person outside wasn’t so goddamn persistent.

You turn off the shower, squeezing the water from your hair before you get out, and wrap a towel around your body. The mirror is fogged, as the rest of the room is, you open the door and step out into the hallway, that now feels colder than before.

The knocking continues, filling you with anger.

Who shows up at night, knocking like a mad man?

Maybe you shouldn’t make your way downstairs now, maybe you shouldn’t open the door to whoever it is on the other side. It could be anyone or anything but you doubt that Vecna came back from the dead to knock on doors now and hunt you of all people – he could have done that weeks back, you went through enough trauma, he could have easily chosen you but even he didn’t want you.

You rip open the door, ready to curse and yell at whoever is terrorizing you at this hour but every word gets caught in your throat and even your breathing halts for a second as your glassy eyes meet the hazel ones that you have been missing all day. Frustration and anger swirling inside them, blazing fire raging behind his eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his chest rising up and down heavily as he stands on your porch, looking better than ever.

“Steve?” His name tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it as you stare at him in confusion.

He eyes you up and down, taking in the sight of your exposed skin that is still dripping with water before he clenches his jaw, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it.

Steve Harrington is fucked. He is utterly fucked. You have cursed him in every way possible, he can’t get you out of his mind, he can’t get you out of his system and the thought that you were only playing with him drove him insane. His hunger for you made him desperate, desperate for release.

So in his state of frustration and desperation, he called up Heidi, thinking that a date and sex with a girl he had been with before would help him move on and stop thinking about you but who was he fooling. He couldn’t even kiss her when she leaned in to greet him with her lips, he dodged her. He couldn’t even listen to the things she was telling him after they ordered their drinks. He couldn’t care less about her. All he could think about was you. All he wanted was you. He wanted your lips to kiss him, he wanted your hands to touch him, he wanted your body under his and the more he thought about it, the more he stopped caring about a possible humiliation after he’d finally make a move on you, he needed you, and he needed to try – if you’d reject him, then so be it, at least he would know and not live with the what if’s in his head.

He canceled the date in the middle of it, not caring about how messed up that was. He drove her home and without a second thought, he drove here, he came to you.

And now, you’re standing in front of him, in nothing but a towel, water rolling down your soft skin, big eyes filled with confusion, lips parted, lips that he wants to kiss until he grows breathless.

The sight in front of him does little to make any of this easier for him. You look like you’ve just walked out of one the dreams he had about you.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs under his breath, surprising you when he invites himself into your home, brushing past you with an intensity that almost knocks you off your feet.

You blink, turning around abruptly, a bewildered look replacing your confused one.

As you take in the sight of him, your sadness begins to dissolve as the anger you started to miss floods through your veins the longer you look at him.

You slam the door shut when the wind causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, you hold the towel tighter against your body as you glare at him, “what the fuck?”

“I have to be the one to say that!” He argues.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your face now burning with rage. Every second that passes now makes you forget about the tears you just shed over him, irritation sparking inside of you so wildly that you want nothing more than to kick him out of your house for behaving that way towards you for no reason. “Weren’t you on a date with… Heidi?”

Steve clenches his jaw at the mocking voice, at the smirk now tugging on your lips. He chuckles, though not in amusement, he points a finger at you, “see, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

Your brows knit together at his outburst, the fire in his eyes growing stronger and bigger.

“Harrington, if you came to yell nonesense at me, just fucking leave!” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, making your way back towards the stairs.

But his scoff stops you.

“Oh, so you keep running away huh!? Didn’t you already get over that!?”

You turn around with nothing but anger boiling inside of you, “running away!? From what!?”

This should have been enough to make him turn around and leave, because clearly nothing changed, clearly this is still just a game to you – but he has hope, and he is desperate enough to throw every bit of his dignity away and risk something.

“Oh, don’t play fucking dumb right now. Acting like that for two weeks and pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you, Blondie.”

You take in a sharp breath, digging your fingers into your towel as you frown at him.

What does he want from you?

Why did he come here?

Was the date so bad, was the sex so awful that he had to come here to torture you?

Without another word, you turn around and you stomp up the stairs, not wanting to see him, not wanting to hear his voice anymore.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest again, and you can’t help but wonder – did he figure you out? Did he figure out your feelings? Is that why he is here? To confront you about them? To reject you?

You feel more and more stupid about what you had wanted to do when you woke up this morning.

Just when your feet carry you up to the second floor, and you rush across the hallway to walk into your room, his footsteps echo behind you, making you more irritated than before. You turn around to face him, but before you can even say anything, Steve is suddenly right in front of you, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, he pushes you against the wall behind you, gently, careful not to hurt you.

The gasp that falls from your lips startles you. His hands that touch the only thing that covers your body leaving your skin on fire. Your heart rate picks up so rapidly that it nearly steals your breath away. You look up into his golden brown orbs, the ones that are nearly black as he steps even closer, invading your space completely, making you breathe in the scent of his cologne, the one that has butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He catches you off guard completely.

You feel so vulnerable, so exposed as you stand there, caged in by his arms, his breath on your skin, his eyes that are filled with so much hunger.

The words die on your tongue, and yet, after you breathe in more of his scent, you open your mouth to speak.

“Shut up, Blondie… Just shut up for a second,” he murmurs, interrupting whatever words you had prepared to lie to him with.

His right hand leaves your waist, inching closer to your stomach as his fingers trace the hem of your towel, drool already forming in his mouth at the sight of you, he is ready to take you, ready to devour you and make you scream his name before he fucks you for only this time.

He notices the way your chest is moving, the way your breathing stutters.

“W-What are you doing, perv?” You stutter as you watch him play with the opening of your towel.

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your insult.

“Perv? Are you going to continue to play fucking dumb?”

“Dumb? You are the dumb one if you think that I’m going to be the one to break into your teasing.”

Steve’s eyes flash with satisfaction.

This is what he wanted – to hear you admit that you were playing that game with him after all and not because you were playing him and stringing him along just to turn him down to gain something from it, whatever it might be. No. You were doing just what he was hoping for, all along.

You want him just as much as he wants you and that’s all he needs to know.

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head as you try to push your way out of his grasp but before you can even step away from him, his hands stop you but not on your waist this time. His large hands cup your cheeks, making you freeze. You stare at him wide eyed when he brings you closer, and you can’t even react before his whole body is suddenly pressed against yours, your heartbeat lurches into your throat.

As though his touch wasn’t shocking enough, his next move almost causes you to collapse, because now it isn’t only his body against yours, his hands on your cheeks or his breath on your skin, now it’s his lips… his lips on yours, his lips moving against yours in desperation as he takes every last of your breath and makes it his own.

You can’t do anything, you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t even blink as you stare at him – how his eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, the furrowed brows as he kisses you with a kind of passion no one has ever kissed you with before.

Steve is kissing you.

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

His lips are moving roughly against yours, his hands holding your cheeks so softly, yet with an intensity.

This is all you ever wanted, to feel his touch and his lips on yours but you are too stunned to move, too surprised to kiss him back right now, too distracted wondering if this is real or not.

Along with the shock, you feel the slightest bit of insecurity flooding through you because even though he is kissing you, you can’t help but wonder why. Why isn’t he with Heidi? Why isn’t he kissing her right now? Did she turn him down? Did he come here because he just needed someone? Because he knew that you would fall for this? Or is this just another way for him to tease you?

Those questions prompt you to push him away, forcing him to break the kiss that he was so deeply lost in.

You notice the way he begrudgingly pulls away, the way he seems so drawn to your lips, the way his brows furrow in confusion now, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated as he looks at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes – he isn’t teasing, he wants you, he wants you right now and isn’t that all that matters? That he wants you?

His eyes stare into yours as he is breathing heavily. A flash of rejection takes over his features and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he is beginning to get lost in his anxious thoughts – thoughts that you quickly shut down by making the move that he just made. You cup his cheeks and you pull him down, closing your eyes as you slam your lips against his for the very first time.

Unlike you, he wastes no second to reciprocate the kiss, a sigh of content leaving him as he presses you back against the wall.

Warmth blooms in your stomach, one that doesn’t stay the same temperature for long because the moment he deepens the kiss, the moment his hands hold you tighter and his knee parts your legs, sliding his thigh in between yours as the kiss gets rougher and rougher, you feel the warmth evolving into a deeper, burning sensation – a fire inside of you that only he can mend.

You can’t believe that this is happening, that something that you had been craving for years is now here.

And Steve, he feels his heart pounding in his chest from the rush, from the adrenaline, from his desperation that grows bigger and stronger when he feels just how much you want him as your lips move roughly with his.

You're hesitant with your touch, but when he grabs your face and pulls you even tighter against his body, his thigh pressing stronger against your core, you can’t help but throw your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into the hair that you’ve always wanted to touch.

You can feel him smirking against your lips when you moan into the kiss, which prompts you to tug at his hair and press your tongue against his bottom lip.

He welcomes it into his mouth so eagerly, his tongue now clashing against yours as his palms slide down to your waist while your hands reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material tightly as you begin to drag him into your room.

You both know, you both feel where this is going, what this is leading to – what the past few weeks have been leading to.

You want this, you need this, you need him, even if just for tonight.

And you know, you already know that you will be done for, that he will ruin you for anyone else but you couldn’t care less, right now. Especially when he kisses you with so much roughness, everything about this setting all your insides on fire, leaving your skin burning and yet aching for more.

Steve is careful not to step on your bare feet as you lead him backwards into a different room. Excitement bubbles in his stomach and he grows even more breathless than before, he pulls away and breaks the kiss but doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your flesh, “I fucking hate you, Blondie. I hate that I want you so much.”

Your lashes flutter as you close your eyes, tilting your head to the side as you feel your stomach and your heart fluttering at his touch, at his lips on your skin but especially at his words.

Your knees grow weak and a needy whimper falls from your puffy lips.

All that echoes in your mind now is I want you. I want you. I want you.

You don’t even care about the other things he said to you, you only care about the three little words you have only ever dreamt of before.

You almost fall when you feel the back of your legs hitting your bed, but he keeps you upright, not pushing you down just yet. He keeps nibbling on your neck, kissing, biting, sucking as he breathes heavily against you, growing harder against your stomach.

“Couldn’t even finish the fucking date, couldn’t do anything cause I kept thinking about you, Blondie,” he speaks into your neck, fingers now dangerously close to your bare skin behind the towel.

Your heart nearly explodes at his words and you can’t help but sigh in relief, knowing that nothing happened between him and Heidi. And all because of you.

“You drive me fucking crazy, I want to rip the towel right off–”

“Then do!” You whine, not caring about how eager and desperate you sound, “show me how much you hate me, Stevie.”

He pulls away from your neck after placing another wet kiss to your skin, strands of your hair getting caught in his as he faces you again, with flushed cheeks and almost black eyes he looks at you and takes in the sight of you, the pout on your lips, the flustered look on your face, big eyes that you are begging him with.

He doesn’t even bother to look around the room, just caring about the bed behind you.

He rips the towel off your body, letting it fall to the ground, his hands find your bare waist that he grips tightly as he throws you on the bed, smirking at the gasp that leaves your lips again.

Without hesitating to, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and rips it off.

Just like back then on the boat, when he took his shirt off before he jumped into the water, you stare at his chest, almost drooling at the delicious sight in front of you. His broad shoulders, the scar around his neck that makes him look even hotter, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms that have visibly gotten bigger since high school. You bite your lip as your eyes move down, almost whining when you see the bulge in his tight jeans.

You wish you could run your finger down his chest and his stomach, tracing every little scar that the bats have left behind, but instead, you push yourself up, blushing at the fact that you are completely bare in front of him. You reach for his belt, fingers beginning to fumble with the metal when he stops you with a simple touch and a headshake.

“None of that,” he murmurs as he leans over, his hands digging between your ass and the mattress as he suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you, he throws your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you with hooded eyes, “I need to hear you first.”

You nearly combust when you feel his breath on your pussy and his lips on your inner thighs. A whimper falling from your mouth as you try to close your legs out of instinct, blushing even harder than before.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he smirks, holding your thighs open as he teasingly slips a finger through your folds, “all for me, huh?”

You don’t answer but you don’t need to, the loud moan that you let out when he dives right into you with his tongue, gives him everything he needs to know.

He moans in content as he grabs your ass roughly, eyes rolling back when he tastes you for the first time, he almost starts drooling over you, finding pleasure in this.

He teasingly licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around your already aching nub as he uses his fingers to part your lips.

You scrunch up your face as his tongue pleases you in ways your fingers never could, sighs and whimpers start escaping you as he now presses his thumb against your clit and he starts eating you out, his moans vibrating against you.

Your mouth falls open as your back arches in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as you fall apart completely.

No words are spoken as you both just enjoy this moment of bliss, him getting lost in you, you getting lost in the pleasure he blesses you with.

You focus on everything and also on nothing – his whimpers send shivers through you, his tongue that he fucks you with making you gasp and drool, and despite the heaviness in your eyes, you manage to open them, wanting, needing to see him.

He eats you out slowly, yet desperately, fingers and tongue now working together to unravel you. His eyes are closed and he keeps moaning and whimpering as saliva runs down his chin. He looks so content, so pleased from only this.

Steve curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it.

Tears of pleasure prickle in your eyes as needy sounds keep escaping you. You hold the sheets even tighter now, closing your legs around his head, caging him in between them.

Steve finally opens his eyes, they darken even more now when he sees how you are falling apart for him, it only prompts him to fuck you even harder with his tongue and his two fingers.

Your moans and whimpers are enough to drive him crazy, enough to make the erection in his pants feel painful but he wants more, he needs to hear his name falling from your lips and he gets what he wants only seconds later when your body grows tense and your back arches again as a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Steve!” You nearly scream as you come undone, writhing beneath his touch.

You tilt your head to the side, bringing your hand up to your face, you bite your teeth into your knuckles as hot tears run down your flushed cheeks.

Steve laps at your pussy, moans still falling from his mouth. Only as you whimper weakly does he pull away from you, but not without giving your clit another teasing lick, causing you to spasm which only makes him chuckle darkly.

He carefully removes your legs from his shoulders and lets go of you before he rises back to his full height.

You instantly press your legs together, breathing heavily as you try to calm down from the orgasm he just gave you.

What Steve didn’t do before was take in the sight of your bare body, and now as he does it, he has to swallow harshly, his dick twitching in his jeans, begging for release. He finds himself aching for you, even more than before, he not only wants you, he needs you in ways he can’t even describe.

He watches the way your chest glistens with sweat, your nipples hard from the pleasure that curses through your body, your eyes are shut, your brows pulled together. He licks his lips before he bites down as his eyes trace every inch of your skin, the scars that make you look even more attractive.

It takes everything in him not to drop to his knees and taste you once again.

He needs you, he needs to feel you wrapped around his dick, he needs to hear your moans as he fills you to the brim, he needs to fuck you.

Steve unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking against each other, causing you to open your eyes at the sound.

You look at him through your glassy eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him unbutton his pants but before he pushes them down, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and you watch him curiously.

He opens it to take out the condom he had prepared for a different… less exciting occasion. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his stomach and he fails to notice the way your eyes widen or the way your lips part in surprise at the sight, at the size of him. He steps out of his shoes, cursing under his breath as he pushes them aside before he uses both hands to part your legs, getting on the mattress.

Before he rips the foil apart, he looks into your eyes, wanting your consent first but no words have to leave his mouth because you are the first to make the move, you sit up slightly, taking the tiny foil pack from his fingers, surprising him by bringing it up to your lips and ripping it open with your teeth.

Despite the streaks of tears on your skin, the fucked out look in your eyes, the shakiness in your body, you look at him so dangerously.

And he can’t do anything but watch you in awe for a moment, how you wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, pressing your thumb against his slit to tease him.

“O-Oh fuck…” He shudders, eyes nearly closing at only that.

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to drool as you roll the condom over his length. You look up at him again to find him staring at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. It’s dark in the room, but you can see each other just well enough, the moon shines brightly into your room tonight.

You can’t even help yourself when you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, closing your eyes when your lips meet again.

He grabs your waist, making you crawl back until you’re far enough on the mattress for your head to hit the pillows when he pushes you down. He presses his hands on your knees and you part your legs eagerly for him.

His fingers trace your skin as he brings his hand up, passing your hip bone and your waist and grabbing your boob with roughness as he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. He pinches your nipple with his fingers, smirking against you when you whine and writhe underneath him.

You reach your hand down, not wanting to waste any more seconds, you wrap your hand around his dick again, jerking him off a few times before you line him up with your entrance, whining desperately again.

Steve breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re so desperate for my cock, huh?” He breathes, still playing with your nipple.

You raise yourself up a little, pecking his lips again as you nod your head.

He can’t believe that you are this needy for him, that you are giving him those eyes.

If only he knew how many times you have dreamt of this moment.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please what, Blondie?” He teases you as his hand now slides down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit, making you shiver.

You blink and you breathe heavily as you place your hand on his shoulder, “please fuck me, Steve… Please…”

A satisfied smirk appears on his face, your desperation making him feel smug – but the smugness quickly dissolves into something else when he pushes inside you and feels your tightness around him for the very first time.

You breathe in harshly and hold it, shutting your eyes when you feel him stretching you out. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, not his tongue, not his fingers, nothing. The stretch is both painful and delicious, it makes you gasp but it also makes you drool as he inches deeper and deeper.

Steve can only curse and whimper in pleasure as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you, he doesn’t push in fully though, too scared to hurt you.

He bites his bottom lip, bottoming out again before he pushes back in, listening to the wet sound and the neediness in your voice as you moan.

“M-More,” you whine, your eyes now watching him, “please…”

His dick twitches at the sound of that and at the look on your face.

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he pushes in deeper than before, until he’s buried inside of you completely. Usually, he would take a moment to catch his breathe, to adjust to the tightness but he is too eager, too desperate for this. So he grabs your hips and he starts thrusting, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you.

You gasp, hands finding the sheets beneath you again as your eyes follow the movement of his hips, watching the way his dick slides in and out of you. You throw your head back and look at his face next.

Strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes, his lips are puffy from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed. He is moaning, for you, because of you. You are in utter bliss, feeling pride swell in your chest when he moans even louder as you clench around him.

He watches the way he fucks you, eyes growing darker and darker and then, he looks at your chest, the way your tits bounce from the movements, something that prompts him to move his hips even faster, fucking into you harder now.

“F-Fuck,” you whine loudly.

His eyes meet your face and the pleasure on it is suddenly not enough for him, he wants to throw you over the edge, he needs to hear you scream for him.

He curses under his breath when you clench around him again.

Steve’s knees dig into the mattress, his fingers now holding you even stronger than before, he is sure to leave bruises but you don’t mind, you would never mind. He fastens his pace, railing into you and thrusting in and out of you, making you fall apart in the matter of a few seconds. You can’t speak, even if you tried. All that you can do is moan pathetically, letting him use you.

“You take me so well, holy shit, Blondie,” he whimpers, voicing out his thoughts, brows scrunching together as he watches you, your lips parted, moans that he only ever dreamt of leaving you. “L-Look at you, fuck. If I knew that my cock would shut you up, I would’ve done this a long time ago.”

“S-Steve!” You whine with a high pitched voice, something that only leads him to pound you even harder even if a tiny part of him wants to mock you.

Your eyes roll back, the tension in your stomach rolling back in, only stronger and hotter this time, and you already don’t know what to do with yourself, but when he suddenly reaches for your legs, hooking the back of your knees around his forearms, your eyes widen when they meet his again and a wicked smirk appears on his face as he starts fucking you from a different angle, snapping his hips into yours so wildly that you can’t help but cry out as your eyelids become droopy, tears now begging to be released, just like the drool that starts coming from the corner of your mouth.

The room now filled with nothing but the dirty sounds of your skin slapping together, the squelching noises from your pussy and his pleasing moans.

Steve watches you in awe, eyes growing wide when he sees just how cockdrunk you are for him.

He fucks you recklessly, eagerly and as though it is the last thing he will ever do.

Your tears fall freely, your whimpers turning into cries the moment his thumb finds your clit again.

He feels your walls clenching around him, gripping his twitching cock tightly – and he knows you’re close, he knows that he is close but he doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want this moment to be over.

Steve savors every second, pounding into you roughly and harshly, grabbing your face with his left hand when your head falls to the side, he needs to watch you, he needs to see you when you cum around him.

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks breathlessly.

You nod eagerly, without letting a word fall from your lips, you only nod and whine.

You feel the overstimulation rushing through you, the fire in your stomach that is about to burst into something bigger. You can feel him everywhere, he is so deep inside of you that it makes your body shake like crazy, but it feels good, so good that it almost wants to make you cry for different reasons when you think about how this could be a one time thing.

His hand leaves your face, he throws his palm into the pillow next to you, holding it tightly as his own eyes fall shut now, moaning your name as he picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit, his hips snapping faster into yours now.

“I-I’m–”

“I know, I know…” He coos, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck.

You feel the urge to feel him even closer, so despite the weakness in your body, you use every bit of your strength to lift your hand and press it against his warm back.

“Cum for me,” he whimpers into your neck before he bites into your flesh, marking you up for anyone to see.

A loud gasp tears out of you as his last thrusts grow rougher and his fingers move faster, you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, scratching him as stars blur your vision and the shockwaves grip your body so tightly as you cum around his cock, just as he spills into the condom, moaning into your neck.

You can’t even feel your tears nor the drool still coming out of your mouth, all that you can feel is him. Your arm now falls back onto the mattress and your eyes shutting as the darkness starts to envelope you.

“F-Fuck,” he whispers as he stops moving, pressing another kiss to your neck before he pulls out of you, hissing at the feeling.

He can feel your trembling body beneath his, the sighs that keep falling from your lips, he smugly pulls away to take a look at you, only to see your eyes dropping as you start to lose your consciousness.

“Shit,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, “you okay, Blondie?”

You nod as best as you can, slapping his hand away as you snuggle into the pillows, not even bothering with the blanket.

He scratches the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he watches you fall asleep so quickly. He can’t help but feel smug as he looks at the way your thighs are trembling still.

He stands up, leaving the room to walk into the bathroom, where the light is still turned on. He steps inside, noticing how the mirror is a little fogged, the smell of vanilla and strawberries lingering in the air, making his stomach flutter ever so slightly.

Discarded clothes lay on the ground, he picks them up and puts them on the counter before he rolls off the condom, tying it up before he throws it into the trash. He turns towards the sink and washes his hands before he walks back into your room, a smile tugging on his lips.

He plops down beside you, pulling the cover over you and himself, scooting closer to you.

He doesn’t know where this will go or what is going to happen tomorrow but as he looks at your stained face, and every single previous second replays in his head, he is sure of one thing.

There is not a single fucking chance that this is going to be a one time thing.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington enemies to lovers #stranger things angst

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fiendishfables · 2 months

Note

Hiii cookie bookie pookie bear, I was wondering if you could write for my short king again (lucifer)! Babyboy is short but how will he be with a gf/wife that is shorter than him! Rahh so cute ♡

Lucifer x Shorter S/O! Fem! Reader

Headcanons

warnings: fluff, short people jokes, Lucifer being an emotional dork and lover

words: 664

a/n: sorry for the lack of fics, I've been super busy and have had no motivation recently! Thanks for 300+ followers, I love y'all!

First of all, it's very rare that Lucifer finds anyone shorter than himself, so you'll have to excuse the literal squeal of excitement he emits the moment he sees you

When you first mention your romantic feelings for him, he had a field day

Someone like yourself, being so beautiful AND short, liking HIM?

He swore it was like being back up in Heaven again

Definitely never misses a chance to make a short joke, despite his own height misfortunes

The internet aided him in coming up with originals

"Hey, how's the weather down there?"

"My golly, it really is the little things in life that matter, isn't it darling?

You have attempted to bite his ankles a few times

Don't worry, if his jokes somehow ends up hurting your feelings, he will be quick to apologize and coddle you for the rest of the day

He is usually very ecstatic whenever you ask him to get anything for you off of a high perch; his chest literally swells with pride that he finally has someone who can come to him for that sort of stuff

"Oh, that old thing up there? No worries, my love. Step aside, step aside now."

Ends up having to get the kitchen stool

But by then, more often than not, it ends up with neither of you being able to reach it, not even with the help of his cane or the stool

Results in him having to get either his daughter, or the spider pornstar he usually tried to avoid if possible (mainly result of his intimidations due to his height, but he was a friend of Charlies)

He will physically deflate if he can't fulfill a need/request you have for him; it crushes his spirit

Likes to put his arm on your head whenever he stands next to you

Its a symbol of both his affection for you and his desire to playfully irritate you

Says you make a good armrest

He only got the satisfaction of saying it once though, because you kicked him harshly in the shin after

He thinks you are just the cutest thing when you're mad; he likes seeing you yell at other people, especially Alastor

But if you yell at him instead during these times, he will go wrap himself up in a blanket and have a breakdown on his own time

You wont see him for a good hour or two; he's off sobbing in some random corner

Eventually he will resurface and request your attention, which you gladly provide him with, apologizing and telling him your words were only humor based and not meant to be taken to heart

Lucifer is already such a sensitive soul, he claims you are turning him to mush by just being the cutest thing to ever behold him

He can't fathom the idea of ever making his precious lady mad at him

Loves getting you funny t-shirts and stuff that have short people jokes on them

Almost always insists on being the big spoon when the two of you cuddle

He's finally taller than someone for once in his life, okay?

He gets the chance to feel like he is effectively protecting someone, this time by covering them with his body like a shield; this has never happened before

Let him have this one victory; he feels accomplished, the poor baby

No one can deny that he has tons of fun with you, as he now gets to be the one who feels all high and mighty

Your height is an ongoing topic throughout the relationship

He often forgets that he himself still only stands just above five feet

He once even tried to fight Alastor because you genuinely make him feel like he's a 7ft giant

Safe to say he came back to you with his tail between his legs, feelings hurt, and still a whopping 5,2

But with you, he may as well have been standing on top of the world

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risuola · 9 months

Text

HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words

a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.

It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.

"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.

You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.

Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.

"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."

"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.

"You can't do what?"

"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.

"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."

"Of course you do..."

"What is the source of your pain?"

"My head hurts. So fucking bad."

"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.

"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."

"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."

"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."

"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"

"Kindness would be a good look on you."

"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.

"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."

"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"

"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."

"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."

"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."

It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.

"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."

"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."

"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"

"Being nice doesn't hold any power."

"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"

"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."

"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"

"Oh, you're pushing your luck."

"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.

"And now you plan to ignore me?"

With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.

Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.

"What now?"

"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"

"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."

"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."

Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.

"What on earth are you doin-"

"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."

And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.

"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.

"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.

"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."

"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.

"Remember my advice?"

"Yup."

You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.

His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.

"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Your head, does it hurt?"

"No... You asked him for it?"

"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."

"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.

"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."

Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.

So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.

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lxkeee · 3 months

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE

Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king

Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.

Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG

CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION

They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.

Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.

Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.

Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.

He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.

“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.

“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.

“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.

Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.

“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.

Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.

A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.

Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.

The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.

“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.

“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.

Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.

“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.

Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.

Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.

Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.

Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.

Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.

The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.

Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.

“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.

The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.

Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.

They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.

“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.

They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.

They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.

“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.

“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.

“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.

“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.

“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.

“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.

“Wait!”

Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.

Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.

“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.

Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.

“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.

“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.

Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.

Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.

“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.

“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.

M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.

X: I'm trying.

D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.

X: 🙄

X: What time will you come home?

D: Late as usual.

M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.

X: Alright, stay safe.

D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.

M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3

X: love you guys too.

Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.

Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.

To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.

Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.

End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.

TAGLIST:

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne

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trashogram · 3 months

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 3)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer decides that you are the perfect person to be his baby mama.

Rated E, but the smut has been delayed due to personal matters. I apologize! Still not for kiddos though.

“Hello there!”

Teeth.

This man in your apartment —

‘He was a duck. A fucking duck and now he’s a man. Oh my fucking god what the fucking fuck.’

— had shark teeth.

If you’d had better control of your faculties — if you were capable of doing anything more than staring airily with mouth agape — you would’ve screamed bloody murder.

Instead, you sat there, unable to move and quickly succumbing to a sensation you could only described as detachment.

His pointy smile gleamed despite the darkness. His whole person appeared to glow, in fact, giving you a clear view of his demonic approximation of a man in what could only be described as circus attire.

You stared.

There was silence. The expression on his face fell slowly, showman’s smile melting until it barely lingered on his pallid face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get loud, heh.” The man-creature adopted an inside voice. “Hello.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I mean we’ve met before, obviously, but it’s nice to be able to meet you as me a-and you as you!”

The blond cleared his throat. Enthusiasm in full force as he pulled a cane out of behind his back and spread his arms out wide.

“Allow me to introduce myself! I am Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell… and I am at your service, my lady.”

Lucifer bowed until his strangely nose-less face just about touched the floor.

“… King of Hell…?” Your voice came out steadier than you thought it would. “You’re… Satan?”

“Ah-ha, ha, that’s a common misconception. Satan is actually a friend of mine!” Lucifer sprung up, pleased as punch to hear you finally speak. “People have called me a ton of different names; that’s what happens when you’ve been around for like, ever. It all gets jumbled and lost in translation. Like that game! Telephone!”

“Wait, no.” He snapped his fingers together a few times. “Is that…? No that’s not it. It’s, it’s, ah shit.”

“No, you’re right.” You replied mildly. ”It’s Telephone.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up like firecrackers. He moved closer to you, step by step, while excitement squared his shoulders.

“So, are you taking me to hell now?” Your flippant question stopped him dead.

“Wait, what?” His shock snapped into nervous laughter.

Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling contemplatively. “I didn’t think I was special enough to be brought down by the Devil himself.”

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” Lucifer waved his arms frantically. “I’m not! You’re not! I would never!”

“I’m flattered. You didn’t have to come all this way, you know.”

“Hell is for sinners not — not for you!” The very real panic on his face was amusing to some part of your hindbrain as you stared back at him airily. “You’re - you don’t deserve to go to Hell. Ever!”

“… Why?”

Lucifer’s shoulders shook, eyes still bugging out of his skull before he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Well, because! Because you-uuu are a good person. Good people go to…” He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily. “H-heaven.”

You humored him with a smile, a kernel of pity lodged in your heart. It made sense that the Devil would hesitate before even naming Heaven.

“No,” You course-corrected gently. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! Okay, yeah that. Great question! Thank you for asking!” The man-thing cartoonishly wiped at his brow, a silent ‘phew’ following. “I just wanted to, um…”

Black gloves gesture wildly like Lucifer was fishing for words out of the air.

“Ahh, I guess? The short answer is that I just wanted to meet you.” He smiled sheepishly.

Your face felt numb, but you imagined that he could make out the want to raise your eyebrow questioningly from the blazé energy you were exuding.

“See, actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself for days. You were moving in and I saw you and I wanted to say hello because you looked… ”

Fang-like teeth bit into his lower lip as Lucifer eyes darted to your form. That sheepish look had morphed into a mortified one when he could no longer make eye contact with you.

“You looked like a ve-ery nice, helpful person and I thought to myself ‘gee, I don’t get to talk to a lot of nice, helpful people often — being as I am the ruler of Hell, and that’s not the nicest place around, right? Hah — so why not stop by and see if this person would be willing to talk to me?’”

The cane in his gloved hands tapped against one palm impatiently, a shiny red apple glinting at the top.

“Well, I, I mean that’s what I wanted to do when you first got here…” He trailed off with uncertainty.

“But I just… I just kept fucking it up!” Lucifer knocked a fist against his face as if to say ‘stupid! stupid!’. “Every time I come up to knock on your door, I start thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and then I’d start getting antsy and I didn’t wanna freak you out!”

The Devil raked a hand through his platinum-blond hair.

“I was just so afraid you’d run away screaming.” He sighed. “Which, while I thought that would be the worst case scenario, made a little more sense than right now with you taking this whole thing exceptionally well.”

“Hmm,” You hummed, turning his words over in your mind. “Well I can’t run away, but I’m definitely screaming internally, if that’s helpful?”

Lucifer had the nerve to pout at your deadpan statement.

“Maybe whatever you gave me at dinner caused a bad reaction?” You suggested.

“Oh no. Well, maybe. I mean — I didn’t give that stuff to you. This was their idea.”

A bit of feeling was returning to your nose, and you could feel it scrunch up in confusion. “Your friends wanted to drug me?”

“My frie — Hah! Oh no, sweetie those aren’t my friends! Well, I mean they’ve let me crash at their place when I’m up topside, but that’s all part of our little agreement.”

“Your agreement to-oo provide them with joy and laughter in their golden years as a pet duck?”

Lucifer guffawed loudly. “Oho! You are — that was funny! Hah, funny, kind, pretty, you’re the whole shebang aren’t ya?! — I knew picking you was the right move!”

‘Picking me?’ That got you to tilt your head with some effort, mouth opening to ask just that.

“Aha no, actually.” Lucifer cut you off. “That’s the other thing I was going to mention. I wasn’t gonna bring it up until a little while later, after we got to know each other.”

Before you knew it, Lucifer had scuttled to your side and was sitting on the edge of the couch beside you, propping up the side of his head on one arm against the back.

“Now’s as good a time as any.” You replied serenely. If you could shrug, you would’ve.

Lucifer frowned while patterns into the couch cushion. “I wish I knew why you’re so darn agreeable. I mean, I love it! Makes this so much easier. But it’s also a little… weird.”

You shifted to better face the Prince of Darkness, feeling a tingling sensation along one side. “I find it’s best to go with the flow during dreams. When I question things, they’re more likely to change into nightmares.”

“Wh… what?” Your companion flinched back like you’d smacked him in the face. “You think this is a dream?”

“What else could it be?” Came your nonchalant response. “It’s either that or a hallucination from the drugs. I wouldn’t know, I don’t usually partake. But I’m pretty sure I fell asleep after my neighbors brought me back to my room, so I’m leaning toward that.”

The devil remained silent, that earlier expression of mortification making a comeback, as well as a slow-growing horror that made the unusually red spots on his cheeks drain down to pink.

“No, no I’m not… I’m not a dream! This is real! I’m real!” Lucifer lurched forward suddenly, hands hovering centimeters from your lifeless arm.

He swallowed thickly, making a decision in real time to peel off his glove and reach out to you with alabaster fingers.

“See?” He asked softly, brushed against your shoulder down to your forearm with cautious claws.

The nerve endings in your body had been waking up throughout your conversation with Not-Satan, but felt unusually sharp as his nails grazed your flesh. Lucifer’s hand was smoother than smooth, and cold like a glass window in winter. It was as if he were made of porcelain, solid yet fragile.

And yet you felt a burgeoning warmth when he took hold of your hand. There was a faint heat coming from beneath his skin; a candle still burning somewhere beneath layers and layers of ice.

You shivered violently, body and mind syncing as you both rejected and sought that impossible sensation.

Lucifer, meanwhile, was staring at your hand in his, fingers entwined. He marveled at the image, hope blossoming from within, after an eternity of being grounded.

Just to touch you, to be near you and bask in your body heat and the presence of your soul did wonders.

“This is no dream. This is really happening.” He repeated softly.

———————— Tag List:

@crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader

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sports-on-sundays · 6 months

Text

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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