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#i wasn't even sure what this is about for a hot five minutes
sparrowrye · 1 day
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 5
Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?
Previous part
Part 5: trouble in paradise
WARNING! You should make sure you're in the right mental headspace to deal with a challenging chapter like this (several mentions of suicide). Also, it's very long.
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"I am not having this conversation with you." I whisked around and headed for the front door, making sure my tail whipped against his leg as I did. He caught the end and yanked me back. I spun on my heels, teeth bared in a snarl, and eyes dark with anger. "How dare--"
"We are having this conversation." He took a step to meet me halfway, causing me to nearly run into his chest. He slammed his cane on the wood floor and brought his face close to mine. "Your behavior has been abrasive, rude, and unacceptable."
"My behavior? My behavior?" I slammed a hand on my own chest. "How about yours? You've been short with me and the children, you and Reagan can't seem to be adults and be in the same room for more than five minutes without tearing each other's throats out, you snap at Husker left and right, and you keep trying to tell me what to do."
He straightened up so he was looking down his nose at me. His smile was quirked up in a black gummy snarl. "The children are misbehaved, I refrain from speaking to Reagan but she insists on eliciting an argument, I'm treating Husker as I always have, and I am in no way telling you to do anything." His staticky voice was sharper than usual and he attempted to break through my shield with his mind. It edged on my anger as I reinforced the shield.
"That's right, you're not telling what to do." I jerked back my tail from his grip. "You're telling me what not to do. I've been on my own for eight years. Even longer than that before you came into my life. I don't need your protection or your help."
His ears bent back as his smile strained to stay up. My snarl fell from guilt.
"We have magic. You have far more advanced magic. If I'm in danger you can easily come and be the great savior. For now, leave me alone to hunt this bastard's factory down. I need to clear my head. Reagan and Lucas will take care of Nym and Thatcher." I turned back to the door, being extra careful to keep my tail close to my heels, and closed it behind me.
I morphed into my Dragon form and took to the skies. The wind whipped past my face and the clouds were a soothing dousing to my hot anger. I flew from cloud to cloud, keeping well out of sight until my wings grew tired from the exertion.
Incorporating Alastor back into my life, into everyone else's lives, didn't go as smoothly as I had planned.
The first biggest issue was the children. He didn't care for Nym and Thatcher in the slightest. He was actively annoyed by their mere presence and they knew it, too. It made them more avoidant of the house itself and more clingy to me when they were inside. They were either at my side or in their room -- never did they spend time with each other in the common spaces of the household. I felt guilty for letting that happen.
Reagan wasn't helping either. She and Alastor were always arguing whenever they were left alone together. Sometimes they even argued about me when I was present in the room. Reagan was protective of me, a trait I found admirable, but it was causing more problems than solutions. Alastor being Alastor, he didn't let any snide remarks or comments slide. I felt guilty for letting Reagan know more about the complicated relationship. I should've kept her oblivious for as long as possible.
Husker was also being avoidant. He didn't frequent the old house like he used to and any time Alastor stepped in the room he fell silent and stood on the opposite side of the room as me. It didn't take long to realize Alastor was upset that Husker and I were close--closer than Alastor and I. Guilt gnawed at my chest for not defending my friend.
The others, from Charlie to Vivian, to Althea, to Vilcin, and to everyone in between, were constantly asking me how I was holding up with Alastor. Reagan's words echoed in my head about how she and Husker had to deal with my affects of Alastor's disappearance. So I put on a smile and told them we were working on it.
Althea had caught me on the streets and tried to dig deeper, claiming that the thread between me and Alastor was very transparent. I kept up the act and told her we were taking small steps to make it stronger. She didn't believe me--I could tell by the way she looked at me--but there was nothing she could do about it.
I touched down in a random forest and melted into the shadows. I skidded across the unoccupied plots of land until I came to a town. I picked a random shadow and stayed hidden in it, listening and watching all around me. How much more simpler were these people's lives? My own life felt so vastly unique that it actually felt tragic.
I jumped from shadow to shadow, from town to town, for hours on end. No amount of hunting could reveal any kind of information. Though I wasn't really searching for anything. I knew Vox's trackers would lead us right to the factory but I needed something to do. My responsibilities in the haven had vanished--likely from Charlie's input--on the account of giving me more time to spend with my family. If only they knew that it would better help me if I had something to occupy my hands and mind.
So I stayed off the haven's grounds from dawn to dusk, and further on. I was procrastinating my next interaction with Alastor. I knew he wouldn't severely hurt me but the memories from when we first met had begun to resurface. Alastor always had a screw loose so what would happen if he was pushed to the very edge? I was likely going to be the one on the receiving end of it.
I manifested in an alley of a small town and sat down. I was exhausted; physically and mentally. I leaned my head against the cold brick and listened with my Demon ears, no magic, to the sounds of the quiet little town.
I could hear mumbled conversations from family's and couples, could hear the static of radios and televisions, could hear the rustle of a cat looking for dinner in a nearby street, and could hear my own labored breathing.
I was feeling panic. Why was I panicking? Why was I sweating so much? I hadn't used a lot of magic today or even recently. Why was my chest so tight?
My fingers gripped the stone beneath me. I scraped my foot claws so they drew little white lines in the pavement. My heart was thundering in my ears and adrenaline was confusing through my body for no apparent reason.
I leaned to the side on my forearms as it became difficult to breathe. My throat was so tight and my hands felt cold. There was no magic around me. I couldn't feel anyone. I couldn't hear or see anyone either, meaning any of Blackwater's legacy weren't nearby.
So what was wrong?
My breathing came in wheezes. I gripped my maroon jacket as I my vision darkened. My claws were scrapping against the pavement. I needed to breathe. My magic wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? I couldn't sit still. I just needed to breathe.
"What's wrong with you?"
My head snapped up at Vox's familiar voice. My lips pulled back in a snarl as I scrambled to my feet and attempted to collect myself.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"You seemed like you were struggling so I came to check."
"How sweet," I mused sarcastically. I was so out of breath.
He gave me an unamused look. "Trouble in paradise?"
"That's none of your concern."
"Oh sure it is," he held his hands behind his back, "When my lovely guardian is shriveling on the cold ground in my territory, it becomes my concern."
Shit. I hadn't realized I was on Vee territory. I hadn't paid attention to any of the trademarks of their land.
"Don't you have a ring fight to broadcast?" I snapped. I was so hot. My magic was struggling to cool me down. Why couldn't I control my magic? Was Vox in on this? Was he causing this?
"My champion doesn't fight on weekdays." He casually pulled out his phone and started scrolling on something. Vox had concocted a strange mix of willing and unwilling fighters for a massive ring fight. He broadcasted these fights nearly every evening. They didn't always end in death but that didn't make it any less. It made me grateful that part of our deal included that I would not defend his stations if there was an active ring fight. It kept my name from being tarnished.
I hate politics.
I put my hands in my pockets and left the small alley. I tried to get Alcine to wrap around my legs to teleport me but she wasn't willing. Her large hat stayed within my peripheral as I tried several times over to melt into the shadows. Something was very wrong.
Vox's loud, metal boots tapped the ground as he came running up to me. I turned right as he reached for my face. Blue claws zapped with blue electricity. It ran through my body and left me frozen in place in the new location. My hair was sticking up and my tense body was ready to kill someone.
As soon as Vox's flat face came into view, I struck. My black claws wrapped around his throat and the other gripped the corner of his screen to keep his head from moving. I wrapped my tail around his torso and stepped my massive foot claws on top of his feet.
"I made it very clear that you were to never do that again," I hissed, spit falling on his screen in tiny drops. My voice had dropped and my eyes blackened. My own vision had a coat of dark purple across it.
"F-figured you could...use some personal space." Vox choked against my tight hand. I examined the room. It looked like a simple lounge room. The bright pink and various other colors told me we were in one of Valentino's studios. My magic reached out to feel we were down in Hell.
Vox stifled a cough. I shoved him away so his back hit the wall. "Why is everyone attempting to protect me? I'm the one who protected the Haven for eight years straight. I'm the one who killed Blackwater. I'm the one who you asked to protect your surface stations. I don't need help or protection!"
Vox rubbed a hand on his neck. "It's out of care," he shot back, "You've done a lot for everyone and we just want to return the favor."
"You can return the favor by staying out of my way and leaving everything to me. I can handle it." My tail whipped furiously behind me as I stepped in a circle. My foot claws tapped the tile loudly.
Vox fixed his suite. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're hella good protecting everyone but shit when it comes to yourself."
"What is that supposed to mean?" My eyes narrowed and I grew very still.
"This isn't the first time you're having mental problems. You almost didn't come back after killing Striker and Blackwater."
"How do you know that information?" I took several steps towards him.
"I have my sources." For the first time, he wasn't smug about it. Was he actually trying to be kind and helpful?
"You're an awfully nosy person." I was gradually reigning my magic in. I knew how to pick at the smallest bit of magic, thanks to Adam and Blackwater, but doing it while awake and conversing with another Demon was a different story.
"It helps me stay connected with everything that's happening. Hence why I gave you a phone but don't listen in. You need to stay just as connected as me." He reached his magic out to touch mine. I magically flinched away. There were few times in our interactions that we had had genuine conversations. This felt like one of them.
"You seem interested in helping me more now that Alastor is back." I put my hands in my pockets and pulled my shoulders back.
He gave me a funny look. "I've been trying to help for the past eight years. Are you telling me you haven't noticed? I'm the one who approached you about our deal."
"I know you've done nothing but flirt with me and try to convince me to leave Alastor."
"Now that he's back, I know you won't leave him. Well, I know he won't let you leave." He flicked his hand dismissively, eyes averted to the side.
Something about the way Vox said that itched the wrong part in my brain.
"You realize I have as much a say as he does."
Vox's sly look returned. That's the Vox I knew how to handle. "Do you? You're not even a hundred years old. He's got centuries on you."
"And centuries are supposed to mean he's in charge of my every step and word?"
"You're his soulmate. And he's--well--he's Alastor. He's not one to just let things happen."
"Are you trying to stroke my ego or degrade it? I've gotten both from you in the span of five minutes." I faked a look at a nonexistent watch on my wrist.
"I'm trying to talk you down from whatever panic attack you were having in the alley. And it looks like I did exactly that."
I took stock and realized he was right. My magic was back in my grip, my hands weren't as sweaty, my heart was at a normal rate, and my head felt clear. So that had been a panic attack? I didn't get panic attacks. I had meltdowns when things were too much but I never had a panic attack before. This wasn't good.
"I appreciate the help," I said, suddenly very sullen and not at all representing my Dragon Demon persona, "but I need to return home now."
"I'll be here if you ever need someone to grab a cup of coffee with." His tone was just as sullen as mine as he walked to the door. I melted with Alcine and found a small, empty alley in Pentagram City. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I teleported back up to the surface.
It was a new moon which made everything look pitch black. I could hear the splash of the waves at the base of the cliff and the whistling of the wind. I reached my magic out to feel Reagan, Lucas, Nym, Thatcher, and Alastor all safe in the house. I checked in on the young pair, the horrid nightmare of Adam standing over them resurfacing, before going to my bedroom.
Alastor was in his office so I quickly changed into soft night clothes and glanced at the old timey clock on the mantle. Why was he in his office at this hour? What was he doing? Was he avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him?
I casted the small fire out and climbed into bed. Alastor walked in a few minutes later. My ears strained to listen to his soft movements until he was lying in bed next to me. I ignoring the guilty pit forming in my stomach and put myself to sleep.
Had I known what would happen, I wouldn't have gone to sleep that night.
****
I let out a sigh and hung up the towel. I looked at my red eyes and saw another bright pair behind me. I screamed and spun a cast back at him, slipping on the tile as I did. The back of my knees hit the rim of the tub and I fell backwards in it. I scrmabled back with my hand outstretched. The faucet dug into my spine. He practically glided into the small room.
"Don't come closer!" I yelled. "My accuracy gets better every time."
"Your Slight magic stands no chance against me," he mused, "but I appreciate the confidence."
"The fuck do you want?" I demanded again.
"Should it surprise you that I want to meet my soulmate?" He tilted his head to the side.
"If you kill me you also die," I reminded him.
He chuckled. "I know how the magic of soulmates work, my dear." He stepped close and held out a hand to me. "If I wanted you dead, I would have done so already." The deepening of his tone didn't make me want to accept his gesture any more than already.
------
I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.
"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."
"Fuck you."
His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."
"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.
He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."
------
"I know what you're trying to do," I jutted a finger at him. I leaned against the wall to get off my injured foot. "You did this to me on purpose. You're trying to make me grateful for you."
"So what if I am?" He put his hands up like sharp ugly flowers. "After all, you should be grateful. You could carry on with a life in the rings or spend it in a distant safe house with nothing to worry about ever again."
"It's a cage."
"To you, my dear, everything is a cage." He walked over and put his hand out to me.
"What?" I looked between his red eyes and his dark claws.
"Are you ready to return home now?"
I almost wished he had just teleported me back without asking. I didn't want to touch him let alone take his hand. Who knew if he had conjured up some kind of magic deal that solidified when I grabbed his hand?
And yet, when I looked around at the quiet, dangerous town, I knew there wasn't another option. He would keep looking for me and a Full mage with his power could most certainly find me with ease. I didn't want to go back in that cellar. All because I had the worst luck in the world and had him as a soulmate.
I looked down at my feet and took his hand.
------
"What is it, doll? What's happening?"
"He's...the man...he's wearing a white suite...exactly the color of his hair...and he's yelling with her. They're fighting. There's yelling. He hits her. She's arguing back but not fighting. Why won't she fight?"
"Stay with me dear." She touched my lap. I tried to lower my tense shoulders but it was hard.
"He picked me up and...he closed the door on her. She's screaming. Why is she screaming? Why is he taking me away from her? I can't...I can't reach her. I don't...where is he taking me? I don't want to leave her."
"Enough sweetheart, come back. Come out of the memory." She touched my shoulder this time. "Come back to my store. Come back to this world. It's all just a memory."
"I can't stop crying. Why...is that my mother?"
"Sweetheart, you need to come back. You're going in too deep. Stop the emotions."
"But...I want to see her."
"We'll look next time. We can come back next time but you need to take a break. Come out of the memory. Come back to the store. Blink twice and look up."
I stared at the figure reaching out to me through the bars. I was so close. I just wanted to touch her hand one more time. But it was just a memory. She wasn't really there. She might not even be alive at all.
------
"You need to accept the fact that you will never leave this place for the rest of your life," he said with radio static behind his voice. He let me down so my feet were flat on the ground but so he could tower over me. I put one hand on his wrist and the other arm across his chest to keep him away.
"I'm growing tired of your antics. These little outbursts of yours will stop today." It was more terrifying that he was smiling through his anger. I leaned away despite the sheer drop beneath me and he followed, never more than an inch away. "If you don't want me to treat you like a caged pet, I suggest you apologize and quit it with this delusion of yours."
His smile was wide and his breath smelled like roadkill. He dug his claws further into the wound he created, making me wince. "I'm-I'm sorry." He held me over the edge for several heartbeats. Eventually he pulled me away but didn't let get off my neck.
"I never want to hear you mention anything about leaving here, again. To me or to Husker. Do you understand?"
I wanted to cough from the way he was holding me but I held it in. The tentacles were still pulling onto my wings and pulling them painfully down. My resignation made my shoulders fall. "Perfectly."
He let go. I turned to the side to cough, clutching at my bleeding neck. I felt the wounds closing but the blood was still plastered to my skin.
"Good talk." His cane appeared in one hand and he put the other behind his back. His voice sounded chipper again. "Come, dear, let's clean you up." He held his hand out towards the house, looking at me sideways. I took a deep breath and walked past. He walked close behind me.
------
"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.
I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.
I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.
"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.
I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.
Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn't know I even had that memory.
"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.
------
"Do you feel that?" Alastor stood, my hand still firmly trapped on his and pulling me to my feet. He smiled wide and tapped his fingers on his cane. It felt like a flow of magic was cycling between us. It was the same feeling as when a strong gust of wind blows in my face. It felt good.
"Did I do it? Did I unravel it?" I asked. Husker and Niffty were well awake and watching intently.
"Oh you most certainly did. The curse is gone and your true power shines through." His smile widened and looked janky, truly devilish. His eyes had a look of insanity to them. "It will only grow and grow with time. I will be there every step of the way to guide and harbor this power of yours."
I suddenly wanted to be twenty yards from him. I tried to let go but his grip only tightened. His shadow loomed behind him with a large smile and my own shadow turned into a dragon again.
"Our magic combined is like nothing I've seen before." He jerked my hand back so I stumbled into him. My head had to tilt way back just to keep eye contact. "Together, with our combined power, we will be untouchable." His hair had hardened into spikes and his antlers grew overhead. His eyes darkened and his smile reached well past them. Were those stitches on the corners of his mouth?
His claws weren't touching my skin but his grip was crushing my hand. I could feel pins and needles poking through my finger and it went straight up to my shoulder.
"You're...you're hurting me," I whimpered.
------
"Alastor...I..." It was getting harder to breathe. "I didn't...he took me. I...I didn't leave—" pain cut off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut as it rocked through my spine and into head.
"I'm aware." He pressed his claws around my temples and I felt the pain dull. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and legs, lifting me up effortlessly. "Take a look, my dear."
I opened my eyes to see the alley littered with dead and deformed bodies. There had to be at least thirty dead Demons.
"That was all you."
My shoulders fell with my spirit. I had killed all of them. I had even eaten some of them. Their sweet blood still lingered on my tongue and I found myself wishing for more. I could see their scared faces in my mind and feel my heart quicken at the mere thought of them being terrified. They had all been so scared when I had transformed.
Alastor turned the other way but I stared at the site over his shoulder. I actually wanted him to let me go so I could do it again. The energy from all of them still buzzed in my body despite the overwhelming exhaustion.
"I told you dear," my ear flicked at his voice, tears streaming down my cheeks and claws digging into his shoulders, "it's in your nature."
------
Striker grabbed Reagan by the throat and held her close to his face. I fought against the white rope trapping my limbs against my body, but it did nothing. My magic was gone from my grip and the rope kept me entirely immobile.
"You thought you could get rid of me that easily?" he taunted, eyes flickering over to me. "I'll haunt your dreams and your every waking hour. Just wait and see." He withdrew a white knife and plunged it into Reagan's heart.
I yelled and bolted upright from my bed. I fell off the side, covers trapping my legs, and tried to stand up. I choked on a sob and untangled myself.
------
"What does that mean?" she asked, voice quivering. He stopped his assault and took a step back to examine her fully.
"It means your family line has stayed pure since before the Great Collapse." When she showed no obvious sign of understanding, he let out a sigh and put his hands back in his coat pockets. "Magic was not a thing before the Great Collapse. Demons were leaked into our world and brought their wretched magic with them. They started having children with Humans and generations later, everyone had Demon's blood in them. You, my dear," he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are a rare, pure gem. You're not infected with their blood."
Reagan's eyes snapped over to mine. All I could think was - oh no.
He reached up to his face to remove his glasses and his horns. They were fake. "I, myself, am a pure Human." My eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He was a Human. He was a defenseless Human. No wonder he had made all those inventions. "And I'm so glad to have found another one to add to our family."
"Family?" she questioned with a tone of disgust.
"I've been all around the world and collected ten pure Humans. We're going to be the foundation of the new world. A world that isn't tainted by Demons." His eyes narrowed on me.
"We're not all bad," I tried, limply pulling against the chains. My energy was taking forever to return. "We've created a safe haven for everyone. A place where both sides can live peacefully together."
"That wont last long." He waved his hand dismissively. "Demons are ruthless killers and Humans can't fathom having anyone above them."
------
Blackwater's laughter reached past it all. "A true Demon thirsty for blood. I expect nothing less from Alastor's soulmate." He turned to look at Reagan. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head in response, eyes never leaving my writhing form.
"Not...not all...just me...just Alastor." I spoke through the spasms and clenched teeth. I don't know how any of them hadn't broken yet from the sheer force. My breathing was getting faster, my whines louder.
"This is the person you're entrusting everything to," he went on, ignoring my response. "Demons can't help but lie. Lie and manipulate. It's why they come from Hell."
------
"Hey hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. Please stay with me." Husker's pleas were faint. I was curled up in a ball in the corner of my room. My wings were wrapped tightly around my body and a shield of thorny vines kept Husker physically away from me. My claws were digging into the back of my neck, blood falling down my shoulders like a waterfall. My cries were loud and ear piercing.
The shadowed souls broke through my barrier and crawled over each other to reach me. They tackled me like ants on a sweet apple, hungry for my soul and the energy it could provide them. And I let them. My soul felt like it was being torn in eighteen different ways but I didn't fight back -- couldn't fight back.
Then they disappeared.
I looked around to see Lucifer sending them back and raising a bright white and gold shield in place of my shattered ones. My purple mind turned red. How dare Lucifer take away a much deserved death.
------
I pulled myself out of the dreams to see the same black souls pushing against my last shield. They were so close. They were crying out for my energy, crying out for passage, crying out of pain. They were stepping and climbing over each other. Some even tried to climb up my shield to claw through it from the top.
Voices. Voices everywhere. Voices I knew.
I will always be the master of the shadows. -- Alastor
You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough. -- Adam
This involves all of us, especially me and Husker, because we're the ones who had to deal with how it affected her. -- Reagan
Tell me, dear, how's it feel to know that all your hard work will be for nothing? No one will challenge your haven now that he's back and defending it. You won't need our deal anymore but you're still bound to it. You might even be forgotten as news picks up on his return. After all, who can trump the Radio Demon? -- Vox
She has no idea where to even begin to understand herself. And you know only one kind of magic. I am the closest thing to whatever she is. And if you'd like to keep your soulmate alive and sane, I will be working with her to keep her mind from breaking. -- Lucifer
A shadow scraped a claw on my arm. I curled up on the floor and covered my head. "Everyone shut up!" I yelled out. Alastor was pushing against my shields, too, but I wasn't letting anyone in. Not Lucifer, not Husker, not the souls, and not him.
More claws caught my back. My shield was shrinking and their arms were breaking through the shield like glass. I couldn't escape the voices. I couldn't escape my past. I couldn't escape myself. Vox had been right. Alastor had been right. Husker had been right. Everyone had been right about anything and everything. Why was I so useless? Why was I so helpless? Why did I always need saving? Wasn't I strong enough? Hadn't I come a long way?
I would never be on Alastor's level, let alone surpass him. I would always fall short. My past would always come back to haunt me. I couldn't escape. Wasn't I enough?
Something shattered.
Something sharp and aggressive burst through my shields.
Something suffocatingly hot surrounded my mind.
Alastor filled my mind. Red and green colored my vision as his magic spread through my body like wild fire. I couldn't push him away--couldn't get him out. He pulsed through me like my own blood.
Then he pulled.
But I resisted.
My claws dug into the ground as he wrapped his red arms around my torso and pulled me into the darkness; pulled me closer back to reality. I screamed and pushed against him. I didn't want to go back.
"Leave me to die!" I yelled. I tried clawing deep cuts in his arms but they bounced off like rubber. I twisted in all different directions, jumped and dropped my weight randomly, and threw my head back in an effort to hit his face.
Sharp anger poked my mind an instant before I was roughly shoved into the mattress. My eyes snapped open to his glowing, towering figure.
I brought my legs up and shoved him away, nearly sending him off the end of the bed. I untangle my legs from the sheets and tackled him, sending him the rest of the way. "How dare you!" My claws enclosed around his neck. And he let me.
I stopped.
My hands were still around his neck, as was his mind around mine, and his eyes stared blankly up at me. Why wasn't he fighting back? Why wasn't he getting angry in return?
I stood up and backed away. He stood up and fixed his coat and bow tie, eyes fixating on me a second after. Orange sun was poking through the curtains. Was it the evening?
His unemotional eyes never left me as he folded his hands behind his back. I could see the faint string connecting our hearts. It wasn't tight. It was hanging loosely between us.
I fell to my knees.
My hands covered my face.
I began to cry.
I curled inward until I was as small as I could make myself. It wasn't until Alastor laid a hand on my back that I noticed he had moved. I fell under a breath holding spell for what felt like forever.
"Breathe my dear." His voice was soft, gentle, and exactly like I remembered it. "Take it slow." He threaded a hand past my shoulder and into the curled mess. The smell of cedar wood and sweat pinched my nose and I sucked in a huge gasp of sweet air.
I made several more as my body tried to regulate its oxygen intake. Alastor spoke more comfort words until my breathing wasn't coming in wheezes anymore.
His hand was warm. So warm. So comforting.
If I let myself bask in his warmth, how much colder would it be when he disappears again?
But the warm circles he was drawing on my back were oh so relaxing. So comforting. I've been waiting eight years for this. Waiting eight years to know why he left. Waiting eight years to be moved on a deeper level once again.
"My dear, I'm here," his radioless voice cut through the silence. "I am here to stay."
Against my better judgment, I unstuck one of my hands and reached his leg that was touching my side. It felt like I was trying to soak up the sun. 
His smooth claws laid carefully, lightly, on top of my hand. It moved up to my forearm and captured my arm in his warm grip. He was real. He was here. I was touching him. He wasn't a ghost--wasn't a hallucination. 
"I am here, love." His hot breath brushed against my ear. His other arm stretched across my back and hooked on my shoulder. He gave a small tug and this time I didn't resist, allowing him to pull me out of my tight little ball. 
He shifted his position so his legs were on either side of me as I leaned against his chest. He was so warm. He began to hum, the vibrations in his chest nearly sending me back to sleep. I wrapped my arms around his narrow torso and wrapped my tail around one of his legs. 
"I hate you." I choked on a sob. "I hate you so much."
"Shh, darling. I know." One arm kept my firmly against him while the other threaded smoothly through my hair. It felt so comforting, so relaxing, and so right. Alastor the Radio Demon was being careful, gentle, and loving towards someone. And I was the lucky someone. 
"I hate you," I mumbled again. But I love you.
He placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. I love you too, he answered through our minds. The connection was back. We were back. How long would this good time last? 
He brought his hand around to my jaw and used his thumb to push my chin up. He locked eyes with me, his genuine smile stretching on his lips. He used another claw to push a small strand of hair out of my eyes. 
"There's my girl." 
And placed a soft kiss on my lips.
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Author's Note:
Big thanks to @wendigonamecaller for the help/ideas on this chapter.
We got over the big hump. Now is time for the sweet stuff :P
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Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall
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lacroixwh0r3 · 9 months
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Blow My Load
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DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.
Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak
Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator
A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333
"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."
Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.
As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.
You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.
Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.
"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.
"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.
You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.
You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.
You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.
You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."
"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.
You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.
"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked
"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.
"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."
"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.
"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.
"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:
"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.
"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.
"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.
Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.
"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."
"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.
"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.
Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.
"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.
You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.
"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.
You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.
You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.
"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.
"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.
"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.
Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.
"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.
"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."
"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.
You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.
With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.
Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.
When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.
He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."
You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.
"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.
You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."
"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.
"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.
"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.
After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.
"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.
"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.
"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.
You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.
"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.
"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.
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A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.
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taexoxosgf · 5 months
Text
DO IT AGAIN
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PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader
WORDS 3.7k
SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.
WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie
NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol
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“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”
You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”
He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.
“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.
“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.
You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.
“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.
You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.
“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.
“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”
“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.
“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.
“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.
​​"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.
“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.
You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”
“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.
“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”
Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”
“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.
“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.
“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”
He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”
“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.
“You know what, fuck it.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.
He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”
“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.
“I”m go-”
Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.
You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.
“Jisung, what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.
“Jisung.”
“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.
Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.
“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.
“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.
“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.
“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.
You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”
He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”
You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”
“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”
Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”
“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.
“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.
Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”
It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”
The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.
You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.
He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.
"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."
Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.
He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.
When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.
He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.
Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.
“Only if you like to dominate.”
The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.
“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.
“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”
“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.
“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.
Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.
He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.
“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”
Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.
The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.
“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.
“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.
You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.
The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.
“P-please,” you beg.
At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.
“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.
As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."
“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.
You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”
It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.
His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.
“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.
“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.
“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.
“Do you have a condom in your room?”
“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.
And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.
“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”
You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.
“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.
The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”
Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”
“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.
“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.
It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.
“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.
“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.
“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.
You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”
Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”
You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.
You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”
“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
2K notes · View notes
mickyschumacher · 4 months
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Can we have a part two of baby fever?
𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pregnant with charles' baby, in a surprise turn of events, he's been able to keep his hands off of you. but just how long does that restraint last when he's faced with a problem: the tenderness of pregnancy? or in which, charles is struck yet again with the case of baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want dem babies), breeding kink (although atp idk), lactation kink, mutual orgasms, pussy eating, again pussy rubbing(?), cumming inside, reader is sensitive as shit again, poor interpretation of pregnancy terminology, fluff at the start and towards the end, minimal use of french endearments, a criminal minds reference from yours truly <3
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: everyone wanted another one! sooooo here it is! i wasn't sure whether to do this during or after pregnancy but i ended up choosing the former. hope you like it ♡︎ see you lot next year :)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
You knew the exact day, hour, minute, and second the two lines on that test appeared and confirmed the wish you and Charles had been waiting for. But what got you there... now that was a mystery. It was like finding that one specific good needle in a stack of needles.
Ever since your boyfriend had mentioned children to you, you and Charles have spent more time acting like animals in heat. It was lewd, obscene, sometimes immoral given the places it happened, but God was it hot.
You were currently coming towards the end of your second trimester. Your baby bump wasn't visible to the naked eye when you wore clothes but no one would also deny that you were pregnant. Apparently, your baby girl (yes a girl, the already doting Charles couldn't be more thrilled) was the size of a banana.
Besides feeling sick, having odd cravings, and being unusually hormonal, you were heavily preparing for your due date. Honestly, you didn't need to prepare that much. Charles had been working on it himself with both of your families so you didn't feel stress. And as sweet as it was, you couldn't help it. You were having a baby for Christ's sake. This wasn't a paper you thought you could wing the night before.
Your eyes strained at the pile of pregnancy books Mama Leclerc had brought you, all new and updated with the times... her words not yours.
You liked to read. It was your favourite pastime. But this... this wasn't particularly enjoyable. Scary, if anything. How on earth did people get anything done with this much information? You have to have enough iron to prevent defects to the baby but not too much otherwise you could still harm the baby?
Huh?
You blinked and shook your head. Your eyes reverted to the also busy (reading) bee sat on the couch. You smiled softly at the sight of Charles. It was winter. The sun was still making it's visits but it was cold enough to put on the heater in the early evening. Charles wrapped up in that one cream knit sweater you brought him with his glasses and book five on parenting tips made you all warm on the inside.
You quietly walked over to him, pulling the book gently from his hands. "What are you thinking of, amour?" You queried, slowly removing his glasses from his face and resting them with the book on the coffee table.
Charles smiled at your presence, opening his arms so you could sit on his lap. His one hand automatically came to your stomach, rubbing your bump like he had been ever since he saw those two lines. The other held your waist, knowing very well your back had been getting sore without doing anything but walking.
He hummed in thought. "I was thinking about when exactly I got you pregnant. Was it the morning in the hotel room in the end of year party in Abu Dhabi? Or in the bathroom on the ride from Qatar to Texas? Italy, maybe? The wine was really good that night."
You gasped at his words, smacking him lightly on his arm. "You animal... and here I was thinking you were being all sweet, reading about parenting."
Charles grinned, blues eyes twinkling at you. "Hey, I have to tell our princess one day where she came from. And it won't be a stork. Maybe I'll say in my driving room in Japan."
Your mouth dropped in shock at the nonchalant shrug you received from Charles. You pushed yourself out of his arms. "Charles!" You practically screeched in horror, making a wave of laughter fall from his lips.
His arms quickly reached towards you, pulling you closer as your warmth was just beginning to disappear. "I'm kidding... mostly," Charles mumbled, smiling at your small glare.
You rolled your eyes, looking at Charles with sarcastic gaze before you narrowed it. "Also 'princess?' What about me?" You pouted.
Charles chuckled softly, holding you tighter. "You're still my princess, amour. But when our little girl comes, you'll be my queen."
You blinked, trying to suppress the cringe and embarrassment. "I'm going to go pretend to throw up because I'm pregnant and not because of you. But I'll find it endearing some other day... in the far, far future.
Charles sighed, shaking his head. "You're a menace."
You gaped at him. "I'm a menace. That's rich coming from you. Weren't you the one who was just thinking about which place we screwed each other to have this child?"
Charles winced, putting his forehead on your shoulder. "Well, when you say it like that..." He grimaced. Sucking in a sharp breath, he decided to change subjects. "How does brunch sound?"
Your ears perked up and your eyes squinted with a sudden happiness. "I'm cooking," Charles told you. You dropped your smile. "It sounds awful..."
━━━━━━━━━━━
After teasing Charles for his cooking, you did end up having lunch. Charles, who was initially terrible at making any morsel of food, had found his talent in making pregnancy food.
Even though Charles lacked knowledge about food, ever since you found out you were pregnant, he had made sure every single thing you ate was edible for you and your little girl.
It was amusing to be honest.
You had joined Lorenzo and the others for dinner at a restaurant and the moment a wine bottle landed on the table, Charles pushed the bottle away from you as far as he could, fearing even the mere particles of wine you could breathe in would affect you.
As entertaining as it was, it was sweet. You knew that Charles naturally had a fear of being a bad father. His own father was the kindest soul he had ever met, his role model. Living up to that was going to be difficult. Furthermore, he still wanted to maintain a high standard while racing. Similar to that of Sebastian. But even Seb had ended up taking some time off to spend with his kids.
"What's with the face?" Charles queried, eyeing from the kitchen as he finished drying the last plate.
You blinked out of your trance. A tired sigh fell from your lips. "My boobs."
The plate in Charles' hands almost fell. Charles' head snapped towards you. "I... your... what?" He spluttered, putting down the plate gently before walking over to you.
You smiled softly at his confusion. You were about to speak up but Charles suddenly jutted out his hands. "No, wait! Don't tell me. I've got this. I read now."
The comment elicited a small laugh from your chest. Nodding, you waited patiently as he pondered around you.
"Okay... boobs... uh, this is great. I actually can't stop picturing your boobs now." Charles gave you a pointed look. You raised your hands in your defence, signalling him that this wasn't your problem. Your boyfriend fell into thought again, trying to think back to all the books he had been reading. Was it chapter three or six? It wasn't exactly breastfeeding...
"Ah!" Charles clapped his hand, dragging a seat from the table to sit in front of you. "Lactation! Tender breasts. While the tenderness tends to be less during the second trimester... uh, what was it? The... the lactation, yes, the lactation may cause more discomfort instead."
You watched Charles delve into an explanation about the biology behind it as if he was Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Another side of him you were discovering through this pregnancy. Charles didn't retain much information unless it was about you or racing, but if it was related to pregnancy, little did you know, he would eventually become a wikipedia.
You blinked slowly. "So are you going to help?" You asked, cutting him off abruptly.
Charles paused at your words. He raised his brows. "Help you?" He enunciated each word clearly.
You nodded, leaning back into your chair. "I thought you were going clean me up," You whispered in a way that had Charles' cock jumping again. "Something about massaging my breasts."
Charles' mouth felt dry. "I did say that..." He trailed off before letting out a groan. "Ah, ma chérie, why would you say that? I–fuck. You know how I feel about this."
You leaned over, putting a hand over his knee. "Charles, the doctor said it's fine."
Charles felt strongly about your breasts during your pregnancy. They were bigger, heavier and fuller. It turned him on more than he imagined it to. But as much as he was waiting for you to lactate, Charles also felt strongly about not hurting you. 'Cleaning' you up would only make him want to have sex and he was terrified about hurting you or the baby.
"I know..." Charles murmured, sucking in a sharp breath. Your doctor who remained professional to the end when you asked whether you could have sex (much to Charles' embarrassment and joy) cleared you for it. Actually, they encouraged it, saying it was good and healthy for the both of you.
Yet, Charles couldn't help be worried. So much to the point where you hadn't had sex for well over fifteen weeks.
"I mean if you seriously don't want to," You told him, retracting your hand. "It's okay."
Charles quickly took your hand back with his own. "No, I want to. Seriously, you have no idea how much I want to," He said with his voice thick, sending a familiar tingle between your thighs. "I just..." He sighed, "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"
Your eyes softened. Squeezing his hand gently, you used the other to caress his face. You gave a firm nod. "In a heartbeat," You promised.
Charles smiled lightly. With your hand in his, he stood up. "Let's go to the bedroom, hmm?"
━━━━━━━━━━━
After taking off your underwear, Charles let out a low breath as he peeled off your shirt to see your bare breasts in front of him. He'd seen them when you got ready in the morning, it drove him crazy, but his fear always got to him first.
Looking at them like this, so close to him, it reminded him of the first time you had sex. Except, your breasts weren't showing such obvious signs of pregnancy: so full, almost two cup sizes bigger.
Charles pressed his lips together tightly, eyes glued to your breasts before flickering down to your stomach. He could see the bump a lot more clearly now that it was bare. The sight of it made him happy in far too many ways. It was like he was a teenager all over again. He wasn't sure what to do first.
Slowly, you encouraged him, silently bringing his hand over to your breasts.
A shaky breath fell from his mouth as a sudden surge of warmth came in contact with his hand. He moved his eyes to you, testing the waters by moving his thumb over your nipple. By your hitched breath and your suddenly dazed eyes, Charles could tell you were sensitive and completely fine. But he needed your words.
Bringing his other hand to your face, his thumb trailed of your lips. "Are you okay?" He softly asked, still grazing over your nipple.
"Charles," You let out a strained sigh, "If you don't move your fucking hand or do something, I will move it for you."
Yup, you were okay.
Charles chuckled quietly. His teeth sunk into his lips upon feeling a slight wetness at the pad of his thumb. He gulped at the white milk falling out of your nipple.
You eagerly watched Charles' head duck closer towards your breasts, mouth opening to wrap his lips around your milk covered nipple. A long whine fell from your mouth, head digging into your mattress. Your hand travelled up his neck and into his hair, eliciting a grunt from Charles as you pushed yourself further into his touch.
The taste on Charles' tongue was unlike anything he had ever tasted (well that he remembered of). It was sweet and creamy, coating his mouth ever so smoothly. It was a strange yet satisfying thought to think that while your body had made the milk, a part of him had participated in it. Technically, he had also made it. "Fuck," He hissed against your breast, realising your milk was far too addictive.
You let out another moan, tightening your grip on Charles' hair, feeling the grasp of his other hand on your other breast, twisting your pebbled nipple as he sucked on the other.
Your pussy was fully drenched, sensitive to any touch you received from Charles. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve the creeping arousal that was intoxicating you.
Charles grunted, short breaths falling from his lips as he parted from your nipples. You whimpered at the sight of him licking the white liquid from his lips. The look in his blue eyes was surreal; crazed like a monster that wouldn't be satiated until he had entirely devoured you.
He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a heated sloppy kiss. Your mouth moved against his, the taste of your own milk entering your tastebuds while your skin burned at his touch. Charles' breaths were heavy, chest rising up and down rapidly. "You taste that, princess?" He queried, lips lazily falling down your jaw. "You taste so fucking good," He rasped.
"Charles," You moaned out, hips jerking up at every tug on your nipple against a race of desperation.
"I know, baby, I know," Charles murmured with slight disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around how sensitive you were. You were squirming and aching for his touch just by the touch of your nipples. His cock throbbed as his mind wandered just how you'd react to his cock or his tongue against your drenched folds.
Reluctantly, Charles moved his mouth away from your breasts, still keeping his hands on them, groping and teasing you with no mercy. Arriving to your pussy, he bit down on his swollen lips, uttering out a string of curses under his breath. He knew you were wet but not this wet. You had made a mess... the bed sheets were sported damp spots while your inner thighs were glazed with your arousal, ready to be eaten.
An apology quickly flew from his lips, making you furrow your brows. "For leaving you untouched," He murmured, hot breath dancing across your thighs yet cool to your burning folds. "Amour, I'm going to make up for it. Every fucking day," He promised.
Your stomach churned at his words while you drew in a deep breath. Christ. "I'm holding you to that promise, Cha," You whispered lightly, growing antsy with every passing second.
Charles grinned shamelessly against your thigh. "I should start now then, hmm?" He baited you by leaving soft kisses against your ample flesh, nose just skimming your pussy. He couldn't help but smile at the sudden gasp fallen from your reddened lips and jerk of your hips. You were clenching around nothing.
Your head dug into the mattress of your bed as Charles placed his mouth against your pussy, flattening his tongue and taking a long stripe of your warm folds. He sucked on every part of your pussy, darting his tongue on every crevice so naturally as if he had committed it to memory.
Your mewls that had turned into pure blubbers. You were sure you weren't making any sense. All that you knew was that Charles was eating you like he was tasting you for the first time, barely coming out for a breath while his nose rubbed against your clit, lapping at you like some sort of animal and it felt fucking phenomenal.
Charles' cock was uncomfortably and impossibly tight against his pants. He was struggling between continuing to eat you out because you tasted so good and prepping you for his cock. He was desperate to feel your walls again.
Your blubbers were now high pitched gasps upon feeling Charles' tongue drag to your clit, nibbling and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he propped one finger into your walls. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Fuck, Charles," You moaned, hips jerking up to get even more stimulation while your eyes were clamped shut.
Charles grunted against your pussy, feeling your toes curl while he thrusted his finger out of you. God, you were even tight around his single finger. He couldn't help but wonder how you were going to give birth. His eyes darted up to your face, watching your back arch, exposing your leaking breasts to more air while your breath quivered. He could tell you were close.
Charles promised he'd be gentle. But he never promised he'd be kind.
Your eyes snapped open at the sudden loss of Charles' touch and the quickly distancing euphoria. You whined in annoyance. Even now, Charles was a menace.
"I know, princess. I'm sorry. Fuck, I just need to be in you, hmm?" Charles mumbled in a hurry, moving his body up and scrambling to remove his boxers. If he kept lapping at you like the animal he was, he was sure he was going to cum just like that.
If this was any other circumstance, you were sure you would be cursing at Charles in French. But taking a look at his throbbing cock, standing strong and hard in all it's glory... it took the words right of your mouth and had sent all the feelings straight to your pussy. In fact, you were even patient in the mere seconds it took Charles to adjust himself over you, revelling in his dazed hooded eyes, the blown pupils and his sweat-glittered skin.
Charles place the finger he had put inside you on your lips, gesturing for you to suck your arousal off. Without any objection, you parted your swollen lips and took a slow and long stripe of his finger, tasting yourself on your tongue. A guttural groan came from his mouth. Any second longer...
You sucked in a sharp breath when Charles let his bubbling saliva slowly fall from his mouth and onto the aching tip of his cock, rubbing the natural lube up and down his shaft. Shifting his hips a bit, the both of you let out a low blow upon the feeling of his flushed cock on your puffy folds.
Charles hovered over your body, placing his swollen lips on your leaking breast, savouring the sweet taste of your milk while letting his cock rub against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers, loud enough for the entire room to reverberate off its walls. A rippling tremble surged through his body as he rocked his cock against your folds, feeling your wetness soak mix with his saliva and coat him entirely.
"Charles," You mewled, "Keep teasing and you won't feel this pussy again I promise."
The threat you made was empty and weak. The both of you knew it. Yet, the mere possibility or even the thought made Charles quickly but carefully push his cock into your pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your walls around his cock slowly welcoming you. Shit... You were tighter around his cock than his finger, already clenching around him.
"Merde," Charles swore. "You feel so good, princess."
Your hands fell around his neck, loosely holding him to you as his cock stretch you out. You could tell he wasn't as deep as he usually was with the baby taking up more space but when combined with your pregnant sensitivity, it left you more flustered and blazing than ever.
"Are you okay?" Charles managed to grit out.
You gave him a rushed nod. "Move... please," You begged, struggling to keep your eyes open.
Charles' hips began to move faster at your command, rutting at such as speed that pushed his aching cock against your walls, lost in the pleasure your brought by gripping him like a vice. His eyes fell to your mouth. Your moans and whines looked as though they were going to burst out of you. Bringing his puffy lips to yours, he swallowed all your angelic and sinful sounds into his body like he was consuming your very essence.
His hand travelled to your hips before trailing to your bump. The things this baby had done to him before even confirming those two lines was beyond Charles. Pulling away from your lips, he almost faltered when he saw your face.
God, you were just so... beautiful. Your flushed face, lust-ridden eyes, sweat-ridden hair moving in all sorts of directions, skin even stained with his marks of love he had made unknowingly... all with that pregnancy glow... beautiful.
"I love you, ma chérie," He whispered out. "You're going to be the most wonderful and gorgeous mother in the entire universe. Our baby is going to be the luckiest child."
Tears pricked at your eyes as the pleasure still coursed through you. The coil in your stomach was coming to a breaking point while broken sobs came out of your mouth. Fuck, you couldn't even tell what you wanted anymore. Your hand reached out to Charles' face, feeling the small hairs on his face as you caressed him. "And you're the only person I would ever want with me... the only person who could be the father of my... our children."
Charles let out a faint high pitched moan. His hand moved to your abandoned clit, starting his abuse on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a silent gasp while he chased both of your climaxes, his twitching cock snapping into you. Everything around you began to blur while your orgasm hit you in big waves as his hips stuttered against you, spilling ropes and ropes of his warm, white cum into your walls.
Your body convulsed as Charles continued to rub your clit, taking advantage of your sensitive state almost selfishly just so he could see you completely space it out in the ecstasy of it all. You let out a soft cry, pussy clenching around him to take every last drop of his cum you could get as the last few waves of his orgasm shot through him.
Charles sighed, wincing softly while taking his cock out of you, making sure to fall down next to you instead of over you like he usually did. His sweaty arm brought you in closer to him, baby bump grazing his cock. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead he smiled down at your tired state. "I should clean you up more often, hmm, princess?"
You managed to roll your eyes, hitting him weakly in his arm. "You are awful."
Charles grinned, popping his dimples out at you. He nodded casually. "Yeah... but you love me," He teased.
You suppressed another eye roll and simply smiled, slowly succumbing to the heavy weight on your eyes. A yawn fell from your lips. "I do. I love you... a lot."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
2K notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
Note
Would you ever consider writing out the Alley Boyfriends?
Tim's favorite brand of coffee since childhood- for one could not follow Batman and Robin around without losing some sleep- had always been the Heart Attack Coffee. It was known for its high levels of sugar and caffeine, with the added bonus of being cheap.
Heart Attack Coffee grew from a small family-run booth in Gotham's street market to five stores in Gotham, three in Bludhaven, and even one in Metropolis.
Their menu comprises about sixty percent of various coffees, but there are teas, fruit waters, and even pastries.
They rolled out signature drinks per season, and Tim was always the first one in line when the new menu was revealed. He preferred the winter ones- mainly because they were hot and always had a special kick to his coffee compared to the spring and summer that tended to lean more towards ice dreams like teas or fruit waters.
Tim adored Heart Attack with all his might. He collected their special cups, a book on all the different flavors he tried, and even cried for three hours straight after learning the Heart Attack team had made drinks inspired by the Bats.
He doesn't think he drank anything but the Red Robbin Rush for the three months the promotion ran. Yes, his heart was beating like a hummingbird in his chest the whole time, and he was a bit jitty, but it was worth it.
Then came the terrible day Bruce found out just how much caffeine was inside Heart Attack's coffee. Not enough to shut them down with health violations but enough to worry him.
He forbids the family from Heart Attack, suggesting another cafe that were safer. The thing is, Tim does not drink any other coffee. He tried of course, but unless he was the one that made it, the other coffee never came close!
That was Tim's coffee. His special coffee. He had one every day (that he was in town and not away on a mission) so much so the employees knew him by name and what time he usually showed up.
Sean, the morning cashier at the closest branch to WE, would have an experimental drink prepared for him. Sean would let him test out possible new flavors!
That's how valued he was as a customer.
Don't get him wrong, Tim tried to follow Bruce's mandatory boycott. But by the third day, his headache was killing him, and his hands were starting to get itchy.
Not only that. His whole day just felt off when he skipped out on his morning coffee or his after-work coffee. Tam had caught him re-organizing his office at least five times because his office just didn't feel right anymore. It wasn't balanced.
On the fourth day, he walked into a Heart Attack, and Sean smiled at him. He had a blond expresso Rush halfway made when Tim reached the counter. "Welcome back, Tim."
He placed a fifty in the tip jar grinning at the employee. He took his first sip of the golden nectar and felt his very soul breathe as it settled in his stomach. "Good to be back"
Tim figured that Bruce wouldn't notice because, frankly his adoptive dad wasn't the most observant when it came to Tim's habits. He got away with it for about a month.
Then came the faithful day Bruce reminded him why he was Bartman.
"I'm sorry, Tim, you've been placed on the Do not Serve Coffee list." Sean winces, showing the binder to the stunned CEO.
"I've been banned!?" He chokes, running his eyes over his own face in picture form. "What did I do!?"
"Not banned. You can still order caffeine-free teas or fruit waters." Sean reassures, but it means nothing. His apologies and his explanations mean nothing.
Sean-who he was half sure had been flirting with Tim for months- suddenly meant nothing.
Bruce has bought out Heart Attack was nearest WE in an effort to get Tim to cut back on his coffee intake. The man knew he did not like drinking any other brand, didn't function right without it, and still chose to pull this stunt.
Well, if he thought Tim wouldn't drive ten minutes to the next nearest Heart Attack, he was sorely mistaken. He got up twenty minutes early- and Tim loves to sleep okay. Just because he can't have too much of it with his busy life didn't mean he didn't adore sleep- and drove himself there to make sure he was on time for WE.
The employee gave him the same spiel, holding that dreaded binder. Bruce had also gotten to this branch. But Tim knew that while the branches could be bought out, the name was trademarked, so Bruce couldn't own them all!
He tried the Heart Attack that was thirty minutes away, showing up late to work due to him not planning the traffic for the morning rush, and still did not succeed in getting coffee.
. Then he tried the one that forty minutes, on the complete opposite side of his work, and that one failed too. By this point, a whole week had gone by since he last had a Heart Attack.
Not even on missions did he go this long. He usually bought those take-home packages when he knew the missions were going to be longer than three days at the most. They wouldn't even sell him that anymore!
The packages were just packs of Heart Attack instant coffee. It wasn't even the real deal!
He was feeling withdrawal; his headaches were getting worse, while his body felt slow with fatigue, and he was snapping at everything and everyone.
Just the other day, he yelled at Tam for sneezing. Sneezing.
Thankfully, she can give out as good as she gets. She reminded Tim why she was the one who tended to call all the shots around the office despite what others believed.
His skin was starting to burn, which didn't make sense since caffeine withdrawal did not include itchiness, but he couldn't stop scratching. Tim also hasn't slept in a while because his daily evening routines were all off now that he couldn't have Coco Connect!
He thinks he made all of his executives uneasy with his fidgeting and nasty scowl at the last meeting because he couldn't sit still when all he could think of was Heart Attack.
The last Heart Attack, the one right at the edge of the city, the one that was only a street away from Crime Alley and happened to be a forty-five-minute commute for both Wayne Manor and WE, was his last hope.
Out of all of the branches, this one was the least impressive. It was cramped with only three tables, the walls were painted a dark brown, and the light setting was all low.
It was nothing like the bright and spacious atmosphere of the other branches. It was even squished between two large buildings, the narrow doorway making it hard to even see. Tim was sure Bruce had not found this one yet.
When he pushed the door open, he jumped slightly at the chime from the bells on the door. His anxiety had been climbing to ridiculous levels, he needed his coffee.
At the counter, a boy who looked his age glanced up from his red bulky phone. He quickly slipped it into his pocket, giving Tim a friendly, if slightly bored smile. "Can I help you?"
Tim raced towards him, nearly tripping over his own feet. There was a slight note of deranged desperation in his voice as he responded. "Please, I just want a cup of coffee."
The boy nods, pressing a few buttons on his little cheap register. "What kind would you like?"
Tim's heart swelled with hope. "I want a large Blond Expresso Rush and a-"
The boy stops. He looks up slowly at the time, squinting his eyes as if trying to see into Tim's mind. Then, with a slow movement, he reached under the counter to withdraw a very familiar binder.
Tim's eyes burn with unshed tears as the stranger flips through the binder before stopping on a particular page. "I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-"
"NO!" Tim yells, causing the employee to jerk back. He knows he must look like a mess, with tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. This was his last chance. He can't make it to the branches in Bludhaven or Metropolis, not daily and certainly not without Bruce noticing. " THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!"
He places his face into his hands and wails. His body is shaking with his sobs, leaning against the counter because he lost all strength to himself up.
The employee stares at him with a strangely understanding expression. "Does this coffee mean that much to you? Is it.... an Obsession for you?"
Tim can only nod because words are hard to push through his cries. The teenager sighs, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward and whispering. "Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes, and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash."
Tim snaps his head up at once.
"How much? Five hundred, six hundred, or hell, even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want." He sobbed, knowing he looked sort of pathetic but beyond the point of caring about his dignity.
" Chill, dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine." The other says with a sort of uneasy smile.
"It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand, and Bruce bought them out to ensure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!"
The guy holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?"
Tim stumbles his way outside, reaching for his wallet. He has no cash, but he says an ATM is not too far down the street. He all but runs there and sprints back with a crispy twenties.
He stopped at a local flower store to ask if they would break it for him and was told he needed to buy something first. Not wanting to meet the coffee angel, he picks out a lovely bouquet of lavender roses.
He gets four dollars as his change and races back to the Alley behind Heart Attack. Just in time, too, because the back door opens and out strolls the cashier with a large travel container.
Tim throws the cash and flowers into his hands to rip off the lid and check the inside. It's a Blond Expersso Rush. Even just a sniff has something in him settling. He takes a sip, and all is right with the world for the first time in a while.
"That good?" The boy asks with a slight grin. Tim hums, smiling back as he takes another sip. "I'm glad. Want your flowers back?"
Huh? Oh yeah, he bought those. He shakes his head. "Keep them. Think of it as a thanks for doing this."
"Cool. Never had flowers as a tip before." He jokes, taking a sniff of the roses with a broader grin. "Name's Danny, by the way."
"Tim. Nice to meet you."
"You too."
Tim tips his head back, letting the coffee burn down his throat. It's hot, but that hardly matters. Danny's mouth drops. "Dude, maybe wait for it to not be so hot?"
"I can't." He whines, downing the cup's contents, and only after it's all gone does he realize he forgot to savor it. He throws it over his shoulder in the direction of the trash can. "I don't know when I'll get a chance like this again."
"Don't worry about that. I'll make you more whenever you want. Here, have my number and text me when you're on your way so I can-"
Tim throws himself onto Danny. The other fumbles with the flowers, trying to hold them and Tim simultaneously, but Tim doesn't care. "You are the best person I have ever met! I think I love you!"
The other laughs, patting his hair. "I'm glad. You've been the first to give me flowers, so you're cool, too."
"When do you get off shift? I'll treat you to dinner."
"It's not a big deal, dude."
"I insist!"
"Well if you insist. I just finished, actually. Where do you have in mind?"
Tim leans back to smile at Danny, unaware of the two shadows that leap away from the still-embraced couple. They arrived sometime after Tim finished his cup, unaware he had drunk it since it was lying on the group near the other discarded cups in the trash.
They only saw Tim in the arms of a boy, holding flowers, which represented "Love at First Sight," and the way they heard Tim offer to buy him dinner.
"See B? Tim wasn't buying coffee. He was just meeting his crush!"
"Hmm. Based on what we saw, it's safe to say boyfriend. No one is comfortable with someone unless they have known them for a while."
"I think your right. I wonder when Tim will bring him over to meet the family?"
"Try not to push too much Nightwing. You know T values his privacy."
They both smile at each other knowingly, and even though Bruce suppresses it right away for his Batman persona they don't forget what they saw.
They pretend not to notice every time Tim disappears or that his GPS puts him back in that alley. They'll wait till he's ready to tell them. Besides, the barista seems good to him; Tim is far more energetic and bright these days.
A month goes by like this, where Tim is back to his normal self, no longer needing coffee to be happy. Bruce pats himself ion the back for his plan to help cut him off working so well.
Even though he seems to be texting constantly on his phone.
Neither Dick nor Bruce noticed the narrow eye stare of worry that Jason aimed at Tim whenever he slipped away to meet Danny. He has theories on what is inside those strange containers, but he hasn't gotten close enough to confirm his suspicions yet.
Jason prays he's wrong.
He waits until he knows Tim is gone (he is not. He likes to hide in the cave's shadows to overhear the latest family gossip) before turning to Bruce and Dick.
"Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention."
Predictably both men freak out.
"What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!" Dick wails, looking over all the pictures of Tim and Danny standing in an alley trading cash, flowers, and containers that Jason took.
"I also thought that was Tim's boyfriend, but if it's a drug dealer, we have to help him," Bruce grunts, eyes hard as he now sees Danny Fenton in a new, less favorable light.
And Tim, who is still hiding in the cave's shadows overhead, can only whisper a heartfelt "shit."
He rips out his phone to text Danny as the rest of the Bats below begin plotting. Thank goodness they don't know what Danny has been giving him exactly. Maybe they can steal Bruce's and Dick's ideas.
Meanwhile, Danny's tiny apartment across the city is starting to appear like a greenhouse with all the flowers Tim has been giving him. His small slip of loving flowers was all Tim needed to hear.
He's taken it as a personal challenge to always have some flowers for Danny as a thank-you for the coffee he made for him.
It was nice. It helped get rid of the boredom his life had developed. He looked forward to Tim's presence. He hadn't had this much fun or clicked as easily with someone since Sam or Tucker.
"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Danny grins as his phone dings and Tim's picture flashes on his screen.
If anyone asks you're my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies
Danny stares at the screen momentarily, before shrugging and texting back a confirmation. "Who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend."
He's never met any of Tim's family, but he doesn't think they will be too hard to fool.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 19 days
Text
pizza night
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words: 2.2k
warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce
“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.
“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.
“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.
“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.
he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.
“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.
“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”
“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.
you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.
“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”
“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.
--
“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.
“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.
“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.
you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.
“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.
“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.
callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.
“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.
“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”
“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.
“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”
“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”
“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”
“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 
“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”
“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.
--
you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.
“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.
“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.
you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.
“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 
“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.
“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”
“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 
“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.
“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”
you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.
--
“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.
“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 
“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 
you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.
you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.
hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.
you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.
“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.
“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 
“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.
“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 
“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.
“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”
“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”
topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.
you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.
“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”
you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.
“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.
--
you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.
“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.
it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.
“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.
“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.
“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.
--
“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.
“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.
“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”
“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 
you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.
--
the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.
“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 
you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”
“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”
“what?” you question. 
“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”
the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”
“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”
you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 
“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 
you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 
--
“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.
it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.
“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”
“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”
rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.
you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
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Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.
Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.
Word Count: 3,330
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.
She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.
This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.
Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.
"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."
Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.
Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.
Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.
It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.
Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.
It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.
Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.
"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."
Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.
To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.
Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.
What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.
That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.
Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.
"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.
"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.
It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.
"I would advise you not to lie to me."
He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.
"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."
He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.
"I'm here to help."
"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."
With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.
"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."
That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.
There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.
They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.
She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.
"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."
Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.
"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.
She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.
"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.
"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."
Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.
"What did they say? Who was it?"
The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.
"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"
Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.
"I told you, it's du-"
"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.
"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."
She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.
"Al... what are you..."
"Y/n, you are stunning."
There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.
Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.
"Alastor, I-"
"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."
There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.
"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."
"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.
"Far from it, my sweet."
His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.
"You drive me to distraction."
Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.
"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."
"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.
"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."
He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?
"I'll go."
Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.
Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.
"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."
Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.
"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.
"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."
"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"
Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.
"Pinky promise me."
She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.
"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."
"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.
It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.
"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."
She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.
Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.
"Can I kiss you?"
The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.
"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."
Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.
"No. You can."
Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."
She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.
"Do that again."
It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.
Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.
He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.
"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.
"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"
"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"
The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.
"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"
Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.
"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."
With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.
Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.
He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.
"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."
A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.
"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."
Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.
"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."
In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.
Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.
----
A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.
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madschiavelique · 10 months
Text
𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : after the mission, all you can think about is Miguel, up to the point where you can't sleep because of all your thoughts. so you go to the strength and conditioning centre to try and exhaust yourself. but miguel pays you a visit there, and the training takes another turn...
content warnings : mentions of blood, (if there are any others please do tell so i can add them !), reader is obsessed, no use of y/n word count : 3,9k
note : this is dedicated to the beautiful @gollygothgal , with tension and hot miguel hehe. here's the 2nd part of the miguel 3shot thingy ! i hope you'll enjoy it. i am currently thinking about opening up requests for miguel, so if anyone has got a juicy idea they'd like to see written, don't hesitate to send it !! <33
chapters' list : 1 - lovebite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)
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One punch.
He did it to help you, nothing more, there was nothing behind it, nothing unprofessional, nothing at all.
Two punches.
No, nothing, not even when you pulled on his hair and the moan in his throat vibrated into the bullet that was lodged in your flesh.
Three punches, the bag rocks.
Surely you're not the first person he's done this to, right? Dealing with this kind of wound in the middle of a mission must have been part of his daily routine after all.
Fourth punch, the impact spreads across the knuckles of your hand.
What if it wasn't? What if he'd deliberately decided to give you the special treatment of losing his time on the mission to take care of you?
Fifth blow, you were breathing hard. You stood back, your hands aching as they sponged your sweaty forehead with their backs.
It had only been a week since the last mission, and all you could think about was Miguel. Every five minutes the whole thing would start up in your head, sometimes so strongly that you felt it defined you. The spadassin of your logic kept chasing your imagination brazenly, it was trying to foam hollow ideas about him.
Was this scene really intimate? Or in your cruel lack of physical and sentimental affection had you simply imagined meanings for certain gestures that were pure delusion?
After the mission, while the anomalies were being properly stored, you went to the infirmary. There, you were asked questions that were still stuck in your head.
"What's that bite?" they asked about the two incisions Miguel had left in your skin, "and why is it all blue here? There's more ruptured blood than there should be..."
Apparently, the nurses had very rarely seen incisions of this kind on the bodies of other spider men or women, the only cases so far being on Miguel himself. The news had a strange effect on you. As for the clouds of bruises Miguel had left around the impact, the mere sight of them turned you into a red poppy.
So Miguel had never bitten anyone else on a mission to administer his painkiller... nope, let's not jump to conclusions!
Maybe gunshot wounds just weren't frequent on missions, haematomas or cuts were commonplace here.
After that, you were brought together with the others to report back. You hadn't been much help to the mission, apart from freeing Miguel from that foam. And after that? Too little contact and far too many thoughts.
The few times you saw Miguel, you only had time to say hello before he went about his business. The few words he'd say were "How's your wound?", and then he'd be off, busier than a minister.
And every day, as if you were watching the sky for a shooting star, you hoped. You hoped for a twinkle, a smile, just the possibility that your eyes might meet.
And every night, you would go over and over these tiny things that seemed gigantic in the eyes of your heart. And tonight, the same thing.
It was the hour when memories flood back, just when sleep goes on strike. You were trying to sleep, but you were tossing and turning, your mind replaying the whole scene like a power-point with multiple explanations attached to the images.
Just an focus, on the too pale clichés of a love story, on the state of mind of a woman without an alibi who dreams every night of a man whose existence you didn't even know existed until recently. Just a focus, for a little wink of survival, for all the fools, the love-sick, for all the victims of romanticism. Just a little wink, a focus.
You were tired of this perpetual propensity of your thoughts to redirect themselves to Miguel. There was nothing you could do, it was like trying to stop the sun from rising and setting. Because even with adamantine force, you can't stop the natural from happening.
You're more insignificant than the dust under his fingernails, you thought. Pull yourself together! Miguel has to look after a company of at least seven hundred people like you.
And it was true, Miguel had much better things to do than have anything other than a professional relationship with you.
You huffed and puffed in bed, sleep really not coming, so you put on your everyday clothes, prioritising comfort, and headed for the Strength and Conditioning centre.
If sleep didn't come, you'd wake it yourself. And so you found yourself boxing a sandbag. And honestly? It was harder than what you'd seen in the movies. Or at least, you felt some pain in your fingers as you punched, knowing full well that something was wrong, but not knowing what. The job of Spider Man wasn't new to you, but you had to admit that when it came to hand-to-hand combat, you missed some of the basics.
You glanced down at your hands, their knuckles reddened, and for a few seconds you remembered the ridiculously large size of Miguel's hand resting on your waist, then how it had felt when he had held your thigh in place, and you could have sworn that at that moment his claws had come out, sharper than a quarter of a strawberry.
If only it were possible for your mind to go on holiday, just to get away from the real Miguel City that had settled in your mind a little too quickly. You let out a grunt of frustration.
But your hair stood on end for a second - someone had just come into the room.
"What's wrong?"
You immediately turned your head towards the entrance, Miguel coming towards you. Your heart skipped a beat and you froze. For pity's sake, was this a dream?
The terrible thing about this mental affliction was that, although you visualised him more often than you should because you found that you spent less time with him, when the time came for you to interact as you would have dreamt of, the image of his red eyes went straight to the edge of your heart and you had the sudden feeling that you wanted to leave immediately.
If you come at any moment, I'll never know what time to dress my heart. Perhaps it was the extent of your desire that made you feel ashamed, and for fear that he would see it, hear it, feel it, you preferred to leave. But you stood your ground, giving yourself a mental slap in the face to pull yourself together as he came within a reasonable distance of you. There weren't enough moments with him, so you were going to make the most of them.
Your eyes widened slightly, because you'd never seen Miguel in normal clothes before. A hoodie with cut-off sleeves and loose jogging bottoms, simple and relaxed, but how could Miguel be relaxed? After all, he was Miguel.
He didn't look upset, which was a first. You were so used to seeing him frustrated, with that invariable weariness that accompanies him everywhere. On the other hand however, he was looking at you quizzically, and it was only then that you remembered that he had asked you a question.
"Oh, um," you said, resting the side of your fist on the bag, "I've never fought a war this tough, and to think that my enemy is just a sandbag," you smiled.
A sneer stretched his cheek, the thin crack between his lips letting a flash of light shine on his faintly glistening canines, and for a moment the image of them tracing your thigh came back to mind. It had left its mark on your mind, like a stain, and it won't wash off, no matter how hard you scrub your mind.
But a frown settled on his forehead, his eyes lowered to your fist.
"Hmm..." he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.
You had to stop yourself squinting at them and keeping your eyes on his.
"Show me how you hit," he said.
You bit the inside of your cheek. Training with other spider-men and women was something you were comfortable with, the pressure was off, everyone learned a little from each other without judgement. But training in front of Miguel? The bar had been raised, the pressure of the stare oozing seriousness and criticism weighed on your shoulders.
Timidly then, you stepped away from the bag, and struck a blow with little confidence.
He nodded, the same retentive tt-tt being heard.
"Your fingers are in the wrong place," he raised his to show you, and as you mimicked his pose, he moved closer to you and took your hand to place your fingers correctly.
It was the first time you'd felt his hands naked against yours. They were far from soft, but they were warm, callused by time and effort. It seemed to you that he could lock your fist in his hand with ease, and the vision of his hands rearranging yours gave you the impression that every bit of skin he touched lit up and sparkled with little stars.
It must be that you couldn't mithridate your desires for him, your body and your thoughts returning to the charge to drink it all in, to take any crumb of his presence and his touch that you could get.
His annoyance seemed to return for a moment, his knuckles running over your reddened and cracked joints. He blew out a breath, and the frown disappeared.
"There, try it again", he said, barely moving away.
You came down from your little cloud and struck again. You were almost tempted to disturb your fingers again if it meant he'd put them back into place.
"Keep going," he said, taking a step forward and starting to circle around you.
You swallowed, continuing the task, taking great care not to look too ridiculous. You punched a few more times, Miguel having made an arc and stopped on your other side.
"Your posture is not right," he remarked, and you shivered as his hand came to rest on your waist.
Sliding gently over your belly, applying a minimum of force to better guide you to perfect your posture. You felt his hand come up and pull slightly on your shoulder, putting your arm back in a more favourable position at the same time.
"You need to find a balance in your body when you strike; if you put everything you have into your fist, the rest can be used too easily against you" he said, his tone calm.
But it was a little too complicated to follow his instructions now, especially when you felt his breath landing on your ear and the back of your neck. Every brush of his fingers and skin against yours made your cheeks flush and gave you a real peony look.
His other hand came to rest on your hip, on that famous protruding angle of the pelvic bone, to reorientate your body. You inhaled sharply, but tried not to make it too noticeable. All that was missing was...
"Is everything all right? Your heart rate seems to have increased."
... the same question as last time. This time, there's no way to pretend you're worried about your team-mates who are on a mission. So what's the excuse this time?
"I ate a cereal bar before I came here, must be the sugar, no doubt."
Wow. Beautiful. Brilliant. Fantastic.
You crossed your fingers that Miguel didn't pay any more attention.
"Hm," he exhaled, "just spread your legs a little... there you go, like that," he said as his hand lingered lightly on your waist before moving away from you again. "Show me," he asked, confident that his modifications to your position would prove useful in your training.
Already more confident, you began to strike again. And after half a dozen blows, you turned to him, a satisfied smile adoring his face.
"Much better," he said. He raised his hand to the level of his head, index and middle fingers together, wiggling them, indicating for you to move forward as he stepped back slightly, "Now, show me how you'd do it in real life."
Wait, was he really offering you combat training? The great Miguel O'Hara, who had no time but for the great multi-dimensional organisation of spider-men and spider-women, had just offered you training?
Hesitantly, you moved forward.
"So you want me to fight? With... you?" you asked.
"Who else," he replied, opening his arms to encompass the room, completely empty apart from you two.
"I'm going to get crushed," you smiled as you reached him.
"I'll do my worst," he offered, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you trying to make a fool of me?"
"No, otherwise I'd let you destroy your hands on the bag a bit more," he said, pointing at them, "you'll have to remember to put some ice on it.
Touché.
You felt a little guilty for taking up his free time, he who must have had so little leisure, so few opportunities to settle down without having to worry about anything. But at the same time, what did you have to feel guilty about, when it was he himself who had offered to help you? After all, it was he who had come to you. Was it simple pity then? No, let's not think about personal sabotage, let's just enjoy it.
"Come on, show me how you do it, I'll do it with one hand behind my back if you prefer." He says, not even pretending to get into a fighting stance.
"What an egalitarian spirit," you say, your voice coming out with a half-sigh, half-laugh.
Coming from one of the most capable and experienced Spider-Men in the society, how could you not shudder at the thought of fighting him?
So you positioned yourself, trying as best you could to put in place the investments he had just taught you. The thought of disappointing him was gnawing at the back of your mind.
Once you found your position sufficiently adequate, you dived towards him. With a move that seemed as simple as that, he dodged by leaning to the side while placing his foot against your ankle, so you fell pitifully to the ground.
Well, it wasn't going to be any fun after all.
"Remember what I told you," he said, coming towards you, holding out his hand, "if you put everything you have in your fist, the rest can be used against you too easily.
You looked at him for a moment, his brown eyes slightly crinkled by his little smile. Your cheeks warmed as you took his hand to stand up.
"Do it again," he said.
You breathed in, trying to concentrate and not think about the fact that you'd had more physical and vocal interaction with the object of all your thoughts in the last few minutes than you'd had in a week.
So you tried to balance your strength in your body, and came back to the charge, but you tried a surprise. You knew he'd probably see it coming a mile away, but why not try? So you gave him the impression that you were attacking him from your left, when at the last moment you deflected to the right.
And then you punched him in the cheek. The impact surprised you both, and Miguel took a meagre step backwards, bringing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide with surprise.
"Shit shit shit! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" you moved towards him in a panic, as if to check him out.
You'd just punched Miguel O'Hara in the cheek. But then, just as you were expecting to be shouted at and slammed into a wall in the next few seconds, he smiled, and the smile became a soft laugh.
You looked at him, completely stunned by his reaction. No anger, no exasperation, no threats or insults in Spanish, just a little laugh.
"That's much better," he said. "Don't worry, I can handle punches, but I recognize this is a correct hit."
You fluttered your eyelashes a few times in surprise before just puffing out your nose, a little laugh taking hold of you as well.
"Come on, let's get on with it" he said, this time getting into a fighting stance. He sweated authority, while you sweated... period.
You nodded in agreement, and the two of you began a battle of successive dodges and punches that went wide. He was holding back, you could feel it. He didn't strike a single blow, just tiny smacks with the back of his hand. So you thought for a moment, you were going to surprise him like he had surprised you with his kick. Could you take down a man the size and width of a fridge? Doubtful, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
It's as if, in the middle of the nettles, you'd found a patch of grass where you could put your foot down without stinging yourself. So you placed your leg correctly behind his knee, which surprisingly succeeded in throwing him off balance, and just as he was about to fall with a small stranglehold of his voice, his hand grabbed your wrist and dragged you down.
The shock was less, because you had fallen onto Miguel himself and his body had been used as a landing mattress. Out of breath, and not exactly aware of the situation you were in, you placed your hands on the ground on either side of his body to at least straighten yours and not crush him, your back bent like a wilting flower.
"Hey, is everything all right?"
Miguel grunted slightly, his eyelids reopening. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised the position you were in, and especially how close you were. Your faces only a few centimetres apart, your breaths colliding.
"Mhm," he said simply, "you did well, I must admit."
And as the simple feeling of victory took your heart by storm, Miguel grabbed you by the waist with both hands and rolled you onto your side, reversing your positions with lightning speed.
"But you're going to have to keep practising," he smirked, one of his hands separating from your waist to rest on the ground next to your head.
And your strength turned to water. Your gaze scanned his, and you wished you could see your own eyes just to know how much they betrayed you, especially when they inevitably drifted to his lips. You didn't need to lie to yourself, you wanted to, they looked so soft... It was the sensation of his thumb making a single, simple circular movement on your stomach that brought you out of your reverie on his lips, regaining his eyes.
"Distracted?" he asked, his eyes a little darker than before.
Sure enough, you had metamorphosed into a big red tomato. So your reflex was to bring both hands up to your face to hide it.
"Uh huh," Miguel prevented, removing his hand from your waist to move your hands away from your face, getting even closer. "What's there to hide, hum?"
His eyes seemed very observant of what was being said in yours, and you wondered if he could see all the emotions rumbling in your heart. You could feel the strands of his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks. The tension was so heavy and pervasive that you could have cut it with a knife.
"My desires," you whispered as an answer, clearing your throat and moistening your lips, your eyes moving tirelessly from his to his lips.
You gasp, the closeness between the two of you acting as a veritable truth serum.
"Tell me about them," he murmured.
You bit the inside of your lip, breathing softly. The inner battle was powerful. To remain silent and regret, or to say something and hope? What if it all stopped? What if it bothered him so much that he couldn't look at you any other way than uncomfortable? And what if... what if... And if I don't try anything, I'll never know.
"A... A kiss," you managed to say.
"A kiss?" he repeated, as if testing the taste of that word in his mouth. "Tell me, where."
You squirmed slightly, perhaps you'd be more successful in speaking your thoughts with your eyes closed? But when you shut them for a moment, you felt his nose brush against yours, his thumb on your hip again making circular movements.
"Where?" he asked again, both of you reduced to whispers. Still hearing no answer, he moved to kiss your forehead, "there?", but you shook your head. Then he kissed the top of your eyelid, "there?", and went on to kiss your cheek, "there?", his voice barely a whisper.
He brushed against your nose again, his lips barely grazing the corner of yours.
His eyes had a tender sparkle as he kissed them tenderly. His lips tasted of wood and rain, pulling back : "There?”
"Yes," you sighed, your eyelids half-closed, "there". You moistened your lips.
"I think I heard you wrong," he murmured. "Say it again."
You swallowed, trying to raise your head to kiss him again, but understanding your tactics, he buried his face closer to your neck, his lips brushing your ear.
"Say it again."
A shiver ran through you as his breath spread a wave of heat down your neck, straightening slightly to face you again.
"Kiss me, again."
And he came to kiss you once more, softly, dark and silent as the night. His hand ran down your body, up your side and over your back to push a little more of your body against his. Your hands came to rest on his cheek and back, your fingers snaking through his hair, nails lightly grazing his skull.
A moan bubbling up his throat reverberated on your lips, just like on the mission.
" If only you wouldn't make me want you..." he whispered between kisses, his mouth growing a little hungrier as his fangs nibbled lightly at the skin of your lip.
He came to kiss your jaw, your neck, drinking in your skin, breaths of ease escaping from your lips.
But suddenly, a small cluster of orange pixels appeared not far from your heads.
"Miguel we got a- oh hi there!" said Layla in a tone that was a mixture of playfulness and surprise.
You immediately turned your head to the side to avoid her, your cheeks flushing red. Your heart was pounding in your chest like a bird trying to get out of its cage.
"Go away Layla," he said though, his hand coming to take your chin, his eyes half closed, kissing you again.
"But Miguel it's-"
"It's very important for your future that you don't finish your sentence," Miguel growled as he moved from your mouth to your throat again, letting his canines lightly trace along your pulse line.
"And the situation is just as important for all our futures," Layla insisted.
Miguel grunted, sighing, and murmured softly:
"I'm sorry."
You kissed his cheek and he raised his eyebrows.
"It's okay."
He kissed your lips quickly.
"This is not over," he warned, sitting up and helping you to your feet. "Go and sleep now." Looking at your hand in his, he added: "And take care of this," pointing to your knuckles.
You nodded as he began to walk away.
"Oh yeah, Miguel has been keeping an eye on you!" said Layla, a small smile wrinkling her nose.
"What?" you asked, confused.
"Layla ?" Miguel called dangerously.
"Okay okay gotta go, goodnight!" she said, vanishing into thin air to come and stand next to Miguel.
The two of them left the room, and you looked at the exit.
What had just happened?
next part >> unexpected mission (nsfw)
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pixiesfz · 4 months
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bestfriends sister j.f x r
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plot: After one huge Chelsea win Sam's sister doesn't wake up in her room, months later she does the same thing, but she doesn't know if she want's that to be a daily occurrence.
warning: mentions of smut, alcohol, drinking, reader is Sam Kerr's younger sister. Time line doesn't add up but live the fantasy this is LONG
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You jumped up and down next to Kristie when the last seconds played out "Holy fuck!" you screamed, your Aussie accent clear to anybody near you.
"Go Sam!" Kristie called out for her girlfriend as you both clapped, the Australian looked your way, she had happy tears in her eyes and her smile was as big as you've ever seen.
You were quickly allowed to go down to the ground and both of you ran up the tunnel. You were running so quickly that you ran into someone.
"oh my god I am so sorry," A Canadian voice told you as you nodded "No you're fine I wasn't looking" you laughed with blushed cheeks.
You knew Jessie, she was on your sisters team but you weren't sure if she knew you, your socials were private and Sam only posted the family every now and then.
This is the first time you would be physically meeting the team.
"y/n you coming!" Kristie yelled out and you and Jessie looked at her "Go see her!" you yelled out and turned to Jessie "They'll probably be on top of each other and I'll be ignored if we go out there together" you laughed and Jessie looked you up and down "You know Sam?" she asked.
"Yeah she's my sister" you smiled and Jessie looked down embarrassed "I should've known that" she said "now I seem like a bad friend" you laughed.
How could I forget a face like hers, Jessie thought.
"Don't worry I'm on a spontaneous trip and decided to come to London" you shrugged and she smiled. You both turned your heads to more Chelsea players running behind you or calling out to Jessie.
"I should go"
"I should go"
You both spoke at the same time before laughing.
Jessie was very pretty you thought even when all hot and sweaty.
You were about to offer to walk together but your name was screamed so loudly.
It was Sam who saw you at the start of the tunnel. Your sister whom you hadn't seen in about a year "Sam!" you yelled back before running to her and giving her a big hug "Congratulations!" you yelled before she dropped you "We won the super league!" she yelled as if she finally had realized what happened "yes you did" you told her.
She looked like a child who had just gotten a puppy "Are you going to celebrate with us?" she asked and you nodded "fuck it, sure" you told her and she cheered again.
You were interrupted by an excited Millie Bright "Y/N KERR NO WAY!"
You left Sam's house in a rush she had offered for you to stay in her guest room, but you had taken a nap and completely forgot what time you had to be at the event to celebrate Chelsea's win so now here you were quickly gathering your purse and downing a shot of vodka for confidence.
You grabbed an Uber and were dropped off at the bar. All you saw was blue before you saw your sister and Kristie talking at the bar "You really took painting the town blue too seriously didn't you?" you joked before your sister laughed very drunkenly.
You and Kristie looked at each other with your brows shot up "Here maybe give y/n your next shot?" Kristie asked "Give her two she's not a lightweight" Sam said as she gave you two shots which you downed "You Australians" Kristie muttered under her breath before you went off to Millie who you did know.
"Millzy" you sang out as the girl gave you a hug "y/n/n" she laughed "how many shots have you had?" she asked "Three" you counted "how long have you been here?" she asked again, teasing you "like five minutes" you said and you both laughed "Everyones drinking until their livers die" Millie said before you both went off to see others.
Millie wasn't kidding almost every team mate you met were certainly not going to remember you the next day.
"Y/n I didn't know if you would be coming," Jessie said when we reached her "I suppose it could be fun," you said as Millie left to go save a tipsy Lauren James from posting a drunk video on Instagram.
"You wanna go get a drink?" you asked and she nodded and followed you along "how long are you in London for?" she asked "not that long I'm leaving in three days to go back home for my job" you explained as you reached the bar and asked for two drinks
"What's your job?" Jessie asked "I'm a writer but for sports, Sam may have got the muscles for sport but I got the brains" you joked and you both laughed.
When you grabbed the drinks from the bartender you tried to ignore the stare that Jessie had on your body. You wore a black dress that shaped your body.
When you turned to her with a smirk she knew she had been caught "Do you like what you see Jessie?" you said as she blushed "Sorry you just look hot- beautiful!" she cut herself off "I meant to say beautiful" she clarified as you nodded your head and took a sip out of your drink.
"You look pretty hot too" you flirted and Jessie blushed trying not to make eye contact with you.
It was clear from then on that you both found each other attractive and your sister Sam was too drunk to even notice whenever she saw the two of you being touchy.
Kristie did though.
"Are you coming home with us tonight?" she asked you as you went to the toilet, you looked back at Jessie who was buying you two more drinks, and shrugged "I'm not sure" you slurred, your alcohol now taking control over you.
You in fact did not go home with them.
Instead, you were in an apartment with Jessie's fingers entangled in your hair as you made out next to her apartment door, it didn't take long until your mouths were on each other.
Your glances to each other throughout the whole night had you craving for her and apparently you had the same effect on her
You had Jessie pinned to the wall as you both fought for domination of the kiss, Jessie tugged on your hair and you moaned letting her have access to explore your mouth.
She took her hands out of your hair and grabbed your waist and pushed you off of her and grabbed your hand as she lead you somewhere "bedroom" was all she said before you felt her mouth on you again.
When you woke up the next morning your head hurt like crazy but when you went to move you found yourself trapped under a beautiful half naked woman.
Jessie.
Your sisters teammate you realized
She was already awake and looking up at you. "Does your head hurt just as much as mine?" she asked groggily and you smirked "I don't know I don't remember you complaining" you said and Jessie rolled her eyes playfully "So you don't regret last night?" she asked "no" you replied "do you?"
"no" she smiled "but I am scared of your sister," she said before moving up closer to you "She doesn't have to know," you told her as you looked down at her lips "So you're only here for three more days?" she asked also looking at your lips "three more days that I can spend with you" you declared before she put her lips on yours again.
That was one year ago and now you were watching your sister play in the World cup since it was hosted in Australia. You had watched her play Ireland and now Canada. When the teams lined up you smiled at your sister who had the captains arm band strapped around her arm.
You let your eyes scan over to Canada's team which you promised yourself you wouldn't but the curiosity of seeing Jessie again took over you.
You remember those three days in London very well, whether you spent them at Sams or with Jessie. You didn't just sleep with Jessie for 70 hours straight though you wished you could. She took you out to see more of London, though your sister didn't know anything about this.
Then you got the job offer to write about women's football in England which you almost agreed to on the spot, you fell in love with London when you went and when you told your sister she couldn't have been more happier to have family with her in London.
You saw Jessie running drills with her team before the game started and you looked at her with a smile, she was searching the crowd, was she looking for you? You didn't know.
You jumped up and down with your family as Australia scored another goal unfortunately kicking Canada out of the race. Your cheers quickly stopped as you saw Jessie on the field she played amazing, it just wasn't in her teams favor.
You excused yourself and made your way into the tunnels, showing security your ID and pass to go see the players, you usually would only use it to see Sam but you wanted to see if Jessie was okay, you wanted her to know that someone wasn't disappointed at her.
You caught her after an interview, she had tears in her eyes and she was wiping her face. You stepped towards her "Hey" you softly muttered and she turned to you "oh" she said in shock "hey I should've expected to see you here" she said with a small smile "well it was nice to see my country win but you were definitely putting on the pressure" you told her with a smile
"Yeah but the score-" "Score doesn't mean anything" you finished her sentence for her "You played amazing honestly, I've been researching more on soccer and watching some games and you're really good Jess"
The nickname rolled off your tongue "Well it was nice to see you again" Jessie smiled, still wiping off tears from her face but now they were from your compliment "You should probably go celebrate with Sam" she said
"I have all the time in the world to celebrate with Sam, do you want me to wait out the back?" you asked "You need someone to help you know how good you were out there," you told her with a soft smirk which she blushed at "okay" she said and you nodded "see you out there".
When she walked out she still looked defeated but you heald out a pack of Tim Tams that you had bought for the game but didn't eat.
"A piece offering?" she laughed to herself as she grabbed it off you "I know technically being Australian makes me the enemy but I am also the best at making people feel better about themselves.
When she drove you back to her hotel room you both sat at her mini bar kitchen and ate tim tams. "Did you ever tell Sam?" you asked and she crossed her head "I haven't been able to look her straight in the eye without looking like I'm hiding something" she smiled "have you?" she asked "Well you're alive and standing so no"
You didn't need any drinks this time for you two to end up in Jessie's bed, you two were just lying in it with your hands playing with Jessie's strands of hair.
Jessie looked up to you "thankyou" she told you and you smiled at her "Well I'll be seeing you more often so I thought I should be more nice to you" you smiled and she turned her body to yours "what do you mean?" she asked "I'm moving to London for work, writing for the wsl" you smiled "really?"
"yeah do you want me to write well about you even if you play shit" you joked and she moved closer to you "what would I need to do for you to write well about me?" she asked as she stroked your cheek.
"I can be persuaded"
Her lips were on yours shortly after that but it was softer Jessie had your hands in hers as you straddled her lap.
Jessie pulled away "wait" "yeah" you breathed out as your faces were still so close "does this mean I can take you out on a date in London?"
You sat up "You want to take me on a date?" you asked and she nodded "What about Sam?" you asked and Jessie smirked
"Like you said she doesn't have to know"
You reattached your lips to hers and once again in the morning, you woke up in a bed that wasn't yours.
Now a couple months later you and Jessie have kept in contact, you gave her your number after the World Cup. You started living at Sam's until you found a place of your own.
You were grabbing the keys to your work car when Sam came out of her room "where are you going?" she asked
a date with your teammate
no, well specifically your tenth date with her teammate.
"out with a friend I met last time I was here," you said "Well you look like you dressed for a date" she pointed out "Can't a girl have some attention" you joked and Sam rolled her eyes "Not if I don't have approval first" Sam defended and you rolled your eyes
"Last three girlfriends I've had you scared them off"
"That was the test and they didn't pass it"
It grew harder and harder for you and Jessie to tell Sam you were 'dating' because every time you were close to telling her she would grow overprotective and you could imagine Jessie's head on a chopping board with your sister holding a knife ready to chop down.
"Well it's not a date" you told your sister who nodded "Well I'm going out for a team bonding tonight so please don't bring anyone home, you are not allowed to have sex in this house"
"I am four years younger than you I am twenty six" you said and she grabbed her keys "don't care" she sang out as she left the house.
Jessie told you about how she had to lie about getting sick with a 'stomach bug' this morning so she could miss out on team bonding.
So instead you picked her up at her house and drove to a nice restaurant "I love that dress on you" Jessie complimented as she held out a seat for you "and I love when you compliment me" you smiled as she sat down "such a fancy place" you said as you looked around "yeah I uhm thought we could do something a bit formal" she said with a blush "I love it".
It wasn't until the date was over and you and Jessie were walking along the block near the restaurant that you could feel Jessie slow down. You laughed thinking she had tripped but when you turned around she was still "Jess-" "be my girlfriend?"
"what?" you asked at her suddenness "be my girlfriend you practically already are," she said and you smiled and kissed her "of course I'll be your girlfriend," you told her and you kissed her again.
On the way to drop Jessie off you had both decided mentally that you were going to be staying over by the way Jessi gripped your thigh whilst you drove.
You had never kissed Jessie so hard "I do love this dress but I would love it better off" Jessie teased and you rolled your eyes "so cheesy" but you did as she said loving the way Jessie immediately attacked your boobs with her mouth.
You both were cuddling on the bed "That was the best sex I've ever had" you said and Jessie smiled with her head in the crook of your neck "Imagine if we ever get engaged" she laughed "I won't be able to walk for a week" you said "I was that good huh?" Jessie asked with a smirk "Don't flatter yourself" and the doorbell went
"must be food I'll get it"
"I love post sex food" your now girlfriend said as she walked into the bathroom. You picked up one of Jessie's oversized training tops and you put your underwear back on.
You did have a 'I just had sex' look on but it was just the post guy so you didn't really care.
When the knocking continued a voice called out
"Jessie you couldn't eat this food so I'm bringing the food to you-"
When you opened the door you did not expect to see your sister on the other side, both your eyes widened and you saw Sam's eyes travel to your shirt, lack of pants and your hair which looked like a birds nest.
"Sam-"
"YOU'RE A DEAD WOMAN FLEMING!"
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sl-ut · 1 month
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sweet dreams
ended up having a baby dream during my nap and thought it would be a v cute burb concept for my sweet cliches series
set in this universe!
abby noticed that something was wrong with her girlfriend almost immediately after she returned from her morning run. she had, of course, left quite early and had been very careful not to wake her cranky pants gf up, but started questioning what she might have done to piss her off already when they hadn't even truly spoken a word.
y/n was in the kitchen when she got back, mixing herself an iced coffee and barely even responding to abby as she came over to kiss her good morning. abby shrugged it off, thinking she was still too tired, but when she rejected her invite to join her in the shower????? that's when she knew something was up.
she spent fifteen minutes in the shower, taking the extra time under the piping hot water to think it over. she knew it wasn't about her leaving a mess before she left; abby was the neat freak in the relationship, so it was usually her getting annoyed by clutter, not the other way around. they'd been on good terms last night, they had even found time in both of their busy schedules that allowed them some spare time to get it on...was it not good? abby thought she'd seen the telltale signs- the whimpers, the heaving chest, the swelling nail marks on her back... she'd never seen y/n fake it before, so she wasn't sure what she wasn't picking up on. unless... what if she had only ever seen her fake it???
then abby goes into panic mode. she finishes her routine as quick as she can (under ten minutes, our low maintenance queen!) and rushes out to find her girl curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, not even glancing her at abby as she took up the space next to her.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours? and don't say nothing."
the girl frowned before she stubbornly responded, "nothing."
"did i do something wrong?"
"no."
"then what's the matter? i don't like to see you so down."
"it's stupid."
abby scooted closer, pulling her girl onto her lap, "i could never think that anything to do with you is stupid. please tell me."
"fine, but you have to promise you won't laugh."
abby rolled her pretty blue eyes, "on my own life, i promise i won't laugh."
the girl let out a deep sigh before she mumbled something under her breath.
"gonna need you to speak up for me there, baby."
"i had a dream that i was pregnant and then i had our baby, and we lived in a cute little house with a dog and we were so happy..." she sniffled, "and then i woke up and none of it was real."
abby was silent for a moment before a small smile and chuckle began to crack through her forced serious expression.
"abby!" y/n slapped her arm when she finally broke out in full laughter, "you promised!"
"i'm sorry baby," she held her tighter to her chest to keep her from moving away and began to rock her, "i'm sorry. that was just so cute, if i didn't laugh i was gonna cry."
"i miss our baby."
abby was in her last year of med school, and thanks to her big beautiful brain (and her trust fund), she was remotely debt free. the two had already discussed their plans to start looking for a house in a nice neighbourhood as soon as abby graduated and got a permanent placement somewhere, but the discussion of kids had sort of been sidelined up until now.
the blonde shook her head, "i can't wait to meet our baby. just give me a year, and then we'll start making that dream come true."
y/n beamed with happiness, curling into her girlfriend's beefy arms, "i can't wait to carry your baby."
"trust me," abby chuckled, "i can't wait to put a baby in you. i bet i'll get it to stick first try, but i'm all about consistency. i'm thinking five nights a week minimum."
both girls giggled at abby's joke, snuggling closer together in a peaceful silence before y/n finally spoke up once more.
"abs... you know you can't actually get me pregnant, right? i mean, you're in medical school for god's sake."
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watermelonlovershigh · 6 months
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can you plz write something where reader squirts alot during sex with harry. maybe its their first time having sex together and it surprises him and maybe she tries to apologize but he isn't having that and tells her to not apologize about something like that. thank you.
-🍇
A Really Wet Mess (SMUT) /blurb/
AN: so i've never personally squirted so i have no clue how accurate this may be but i hope you enjoy it. please make sure to leave your feedback. thank you!!!
This story contains: sex, female receiving oral, squirting during sex
{ boyfriendrry - softrry - any harry era of your choice }
word count: 665
As you're having sex, you realize you should have warned Harry you're a squirter because you get him and everything around you soaked.
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Right about now is when you're starting to regret not mentioning to Harry that well, you're a squirter. See, you're having sex for the first time in your relationship. You've been dating for about three months and tonight just kind of felt like the perfect moment to finally have sex.
It starts off with with some light making out which then turned to heavy making out. Then that turned into Harry dragging you up to his bedroom where he yanked your pants off, consensually of course, and had begun to eat you out for the first time. And damn was he good at it.
Harry knew exactly what to do with his tongue. Flicking your swollen clit back and forth, up and down. To creating a suction over your clit with his mouth. After about five minutes, you moan out, "Finger, please Harry, add some fingers." You weren't one who craved having your g-spot stimulated to come because you mostly came clitorally anyways but it did add to the sensations.
Without removing his mouth from your pussy, he carefully begins to insert not one but two fingers. You gasp at how thick they are. Then Harry starts to curl them upwards which in turn massages your g-spot perfectly. After this, it only takes a minute more for you to orgasm. But you don't just orgasm, you fucking squirt everywhere.
Clear fluids gush around Harry's fingers as well as fill his mouth. Not to mention soaking his bedding. At first you thought he might get upset because you didn't have time to warn him you were gonna squirt, it just kind of happened. But after coaxing you through your orgasm, he pulls away and mutters, "Fuckin' hell y/n, that was the hottest thing I've ever experienced."
Now Harry has been with one or two other women who were squirters but typically they could only squirt one time during one session of foreplay or sex. So when he finally inserts his cock into your soaked cunt, he's in disbelief when not even five thrusts in you start to squirt again. You're not coming per say and the squirting isn't as much as the first time, but little by little small gushes of liquid gush around his cock.
All you could think about was how sorry you were that you've ruined Harry's duvet and sheets. Well and also the great amount of pleasure you're in. When you come close to actually coming again, this time you warn out, "Har... Harry, think I'm gonna come. And squirt, I'm sorry."
If Harry wasn't on the cusp of his own orgasm, he would have stopped you as soon as you said sorry. But he lets it slide for now and begins to thrust harder while bringing his fingers down to rub over your clit. As soon as he starts stimulating your clitors, you come again. You were just that sensitive at the moment. And as you come you can't stop the amount of liquid gushing from your pussy. It just keeps coming and coming.
Once you've both came and are laying there side by side, out of breath and in a post orgasm haze, Harry heaves out, "Y/n, hey, don't ever, and I mean ever apologize for getting me so, wet. I'd rather have super wet and messy sex than dry sex. Plus it was hot. And I feel honored to make you get that soaked."
You tiredly giggle and reply, "Guess you're right. But I feel like I should have warned you that I'm a squirter. So you could have laid some towels down or something."
"Nope," Harry retorts, "I wouldn't have it any other way. You were perfect tonight." He then leans forward, wrapping your naked body around his equally naked body and kisses you gently on the lips. You nearly melt into his bed. God how did you score the most sexiest, funny, bright, caring, thoughtful, boyfriend? You don't know but you'd rather not ask questions.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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My Masterlist Masterpost
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idesofrevolution · 21 days
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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega
There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.
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Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.
So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.
The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.
"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.
I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.
I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.
---
The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.
"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.
"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.
"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.
"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.
"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."
"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.
"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?
"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.
"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.
"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.
"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.
"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."
"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.
"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.
"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.
"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.
"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."
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The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.
"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"
He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.
We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.
"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.
"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.
"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.
"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.
"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.
"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.
"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.
"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.
"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.
"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.
---
The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.
At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.
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It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.
"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.
"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.
"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?
"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.
"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.
"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.
"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.
"How old are you, Santana?"
"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.
"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.
"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.
"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."
His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.
"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.
"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.
---
"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.
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"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.
"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.
"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.
"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."
"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.
"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.
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yourmomazfav · 10 months
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Devil Horns?
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Wednesday Addams x Fem reader
Summary- After an over-emotional event during a therapy session, Wednesday discovers her girlfriend has much more to her than meets the eye.
Word count- 1152
Warnings- Angst to fluff, mentions of absent parents, doubtful reader, soft Wednesday
You never liked having to got your therapy sessions. They never helped, it was like discussing all of your 'issues' in order to find the 'root' but to just never find it.
You had talked about your family, the progress of your demonic abilities. Neither of which were positive, so when your therapist asked you about anything that made you happy your mind had instantly gone to your girlfriend...
Wednesday Addams.
For such a gloomy girl, Wednesday sure brought you a lot of happiness. And you certainly weren't complaining.
''Wednesday is another one of my clients you know.'' Dr. Kinbott says, her hands folding over her clipboard.
''I'm aware, but bringing her sessions up isn't exactly following client confidentiality.'' You say, leaning back in the armchair.
Kinbott tuts and nods ''Of course, I wasn't planning on bringing up her sessions.'' She scans you over for a moment ''She means a lot to you doesn't she?''
''Of course she does, she's my girlfriend.'' You sigh looking around the room, just five more minutes until you could leave.
''Wednesday sure has interesting ways of showing she cares, I'm only guessing of course, she is quite a mundane girl isn't she?'' She asks going back to writing.
''I understand her well enough to appreciate her much more than I appreciate myself.'' You nod.
''And do you think you are more accustomed to Wednesday's sparse human emotion due to the absence of your parents?'' She looks back at you with raised eyebrows.
''What have my parents got to do with this?'' You huff.
''Well it has quite a lot to do with this. You see, if you spent most of your childhood trying to please your parents just to get a shred of attention. Attention that you aren't used to. Then even the slightest level of interest given to you is something to thrive upon, so in short Wednesday doesn't in fact have to do much to keep you happy.'' She analyses her papers again as she speaks.
''Are you trying to make me doubt my relationship?'' You ask through gritted teeth. What she said, a low fucking blow.
''No not at all.'' Kinbott waves her hands about frantically.
''Well you did.'' You get up grabbing your bag and storm out of the office and out of the building.
Usually Wednesday waited outside for you when you had therapy sessions, but she had a hummers meeting with Eugene. So instead of her presence calming you, you anger continued to grow as you made your way back to your dorm.
Initially you were supposed to go to Wednesday's dorm, but you couldn't right now, so as soon as you stepped in the your dorm you threw your bag on the floor.
You thought for a second, it really didn't take much for Wednesday to keep you happy, so maybe she didn't care as much as you thought she did.
The thought of her not feeling as passionate about you as you do for her, sent a sharp pain through your chest, and then your hands, leading up to your head.
At first it confused you, they weren't normal pains, they were the kinds of pains you got on blood moons when you would turn into your demon form. So you rushed to your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes glowed a crimson red and through your forehead began to protrude horns. You had never had horns come through before, not even in demon form. Your hands moved up to tug at the new issue, they were warm, maybe even hot if you kept your hands on them.
After staring at yourself for a few moments a short knock came at the door, no doubt being Wednesday.
You moved to the door and opened it wide enough to peak through but not wide enough for Wednesday to see your new appearance.
Looking at your girlfriend a brief look of relief passed over her daunting features before leaving.
''Why am I seeing you here instead of at my dorm?'' She questioned, crossing her arms.
''Therapy wasn't good today, that's all. Nothing to worry about.'' You attempted to give her a sweet smile.
She didn't fall for it. Within a second she moved forward and pushed your door open, taking advantage of the fact you would never slam the door in her face. Now with your entire body in her line of view her eyes immediately darted up to your horns.
''Well that's new.'' She mumbled ''When did that happen?''
''Just now, a few minutes before you knocked.'' You answer tugging on them slightly.
''Do you know why they are there?'' Wednesday asks, stepping further into your dorm.
''I have an idea, but it's not important.'' You waved off, you really didn't want to tell her what happened at therapy.
''It must be if you are trying to hide it.'' She is too observant for her good.
''I think it has something to do with therapy, well what was discussed in therapy.'' You sigh.
''Did Kinbott make you talk about something you didn't want to?'' She asks again.
''Just talked about my parents.'' You mumble, still fiddling with your horns ''And you.''
''Me?, what about me?'' Wednesday's face contorts into something you can't quite decipher, maybe she was worried.
''She was saying that because my parents never paid much attention to me, I thrive of off any attention I'm given, and then she said that it wouldn't take much for you to keep me happy so in short you may not care as much as I thought you did.'' You avoided eye contact at all costs moving to sit on your bed.
Wednesday takes a moment to think before stepping in front of you and holding your head up with her hands on your cheeks so you would look at her. It was quite pathetic how tingly it made you feel.
''You shouldn't listen to her, whether you are advised to or not.'' She starts ''I know I do not show it much but I do care.''
''I know you do.'' You nod.
''You clearly don't know if you are doubting it, Y/N I care for you an inordinate amount, so much so that it makes me sick knowing how weak I am for you, I swore to myself I would never become like my parents, yet here I am. Do you understand now?'' She asks, it is rhetorical but you still answer with a nod.
''Say it.'' She demands, her voice still softer than usual.
''I understand.'' You say and she nods.
Still standing in front of your sitting form, she pulls you forward into her chest by the back of your head, your arms instantly wrapping around Wednesday's waist, one of her hands moving up to touch your horns while the other stays on the back of your head.
''I must say the horns make you look more dangerous. It's a good look on you.'' She hums in approval, her nimble fingers gently moving over the curves of the horns.
You knew as she held you, that everything was going to be okay.
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sxtellary · 28 days
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❟❟mikey character analysis❜❜
!! here's my take on a relationship with mikey, what I think his type is, what he wants in a relationship/what he needs imo and overall how he'd be in one. take it as you please, either a small analysis of his character or headcanons (。-ω-)
triggers ;; js a lot of fluff with toman!mikey, gosh I love him so much he's such a cutie, fem!reader – not physically described
word count ;; 1.5k
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I feel like mikey can catch strong feelings towards someone only after a certain period of time. platonic feelings and romantic feelings are two separate things, and I think he'd have a hard time distinguishing which ones which and what he feels. he'd confuse the platonic ones and romantic ones and just think you're a very good friend to him. I dont feel like he'd ever think about his romantic feelings that much, and even if he did he'd try to hide them (let's face it he's a teenage boy I'm sure he knows what falling in love feels like, he just doesn't know how to differentiate the feeling from a platonic one), only really acknowledging them if someone else pointed them out for him (for exemple things he does or say for/to his crush). that's why I think the "childhood friends to lovers" trope is the best one for him, or at least a friend he's been knowing for a very long time, so he can actually understand his feelings.
"sharing his popsicle with his friend after a long hot day at school wasn't something out of ordinary. summer was approaching rapidly and the weather was showing it, growing hotter and hotter as the day went by, making cold sweat beads on your forehead as you tried to make some air with a book you had in your school bag. you had some time in your hands after school ended and before your english private lessons started, so you choose to hang out with mikey and draken, to mikey's displeasure. he always loved draken and [name]'s company, that's why he pleaded for the blonde to accompany him when visiting the girl, but something in him screamed to make draken leave. he didn't know why. maybe the way the taller one was digging holes in his back everytime he talked with her, or the way draken made his presence known at the worst possible times ever coughing like a grandpa or starting weird conversations about the ice cream he was eating. either way he wanted him gone now. he can go to emma, or something.. right?
"ehh, mikey, you're eating all the ice cream! leave some for me too..," [name] said as she took the sweet treat they were sharing from the blonde's hands. "but you ate your part like five minutes ago.., ugh, you know what? fine. eat it all. ken-chin can go buy me another one, right?", hearing his nickname, draken sighed as he shook his head. something's happening..
as time went on with bickering, laughs and jokes emanating mainly from mikey and [name] (seriously, draken didn't even want to be there), the sun was starting to set, which meant their fun time had to come to an end and her lessons to a start.
after hugging you tight, he looked at you waving in the distance as you tried catching the next bus. he felt a strong gaze on the side of his face, and as he turned his head he met his friend already staring at him with furrowed brows.
"do you like her?", draken asked with a sigh.
"who?"
"don't play dumb with me now."
"no I don't? what's with the question all of a sudden?"
"what do you mean 'no, you don't'?", he spat, mimicking the quotation marks in the air as he walked alongside mikey to his house. "you made me go with you to her school on a friday afternoon, ignored me half of that time and even hugged her when you met and before she left."
"pshh, that doesn't mean anything, ken-chin! she's just a really good friend," mikey shook his head, still chewing at the wooden stick his popsicle came with.
"mikey, you shared your ice cream with her. I think this is more than a friendship if you ask me."
mikey didn't respond, opting to sulk over his friend's words all night and the next day. maybe he's right? nah, can't be.."
his type can vary, all I know is for sure he just wants someone who can handle him. face and body don't really matter to him, as long as they have a cute face for him that's enough. I think for him it matters more how they act, if they can help him get better from his dark impulses and overall be there for him. this is more a headcanon than analysis but I like to think he'd date to marry, or at least he'd want that if he wasn't so busy with gang stuff.
I also think he'd want someone who can relate to him, but to an extent. he will feel uncomfortable if his lover would have the exact same problems because he's not good at comforting (that doesnt mean he wouldn't try to cheer you up tho), but someone who can relate to him can make mikey feel a bit relieved and not so alone. he'd have a hard time opening up too, so having an old friend as a lover will make him feel more comfortable. his lover will automatically be his bsf too!
he's a clingy boyfriend. let's be serious, we all have seen how he is with draken, now imagine that a 100% worse. he'd demand to be everywhere with you, at your house, at his house, park, school, class, you name it, he's with you. nothing new if you skip classes just to hang out with him, and if you don't, he'd whine about it like a child. sleepovers are a must in your relationship, but they mostly happen at his house; I like to think he can't have a good night's sleep anywhere else except his own bed, and you in his arms too? best sleep he's had in YEARS!
""mikey, move! I have to go home, it's late," you whined as you tried to move the blonde's arms away from your body. you've been trying for about an hour and got no progress. it was as if he was glued to your side. it was kind of cute, if you thought about it; he looked like a koala, holding on for dear life on a tree. but you liked koalas when you weren't the tree itself..
you went to sleep late because he wanted to finish the last season of 'the simpsons', and you couldn't go to sleep first because he liked to keep his TV on high volume. goddammit, mikey..
from what you can see from the clock on his wall it was around eleven am. you didn't have a curfew per say, you just didn't want to bother the sano's anymore with your presence; the way you screamed last night to old cringey songs with your boyfriend was probably enough for his grandpa. and besides, you wanted to study for the upcoming exams, it was a sunday after all and you dont get the heart to slack off.
"come on, mikey. wake up!" you tried to shake him off once again, but he didn't even budge.
you knew he was awake already, though. the way his eyes fluttered as he moved his irises and the corners of his mouth trembled to contain the smile that was creeping up on them gave it away. "mikey!", that's the only thing you got to say before he poked your sides, making you giggle in the progress.
"you sure are very talkative in the morning now, aren't you. yapping my ear off and I didn't even get to wake up properly," the blonde yawned, making himself comfortable on your form.
"kiss me good morning so I won't be upset all day that you're leaving so early!" he demanded, making you chuckle.
"no. your breath stinks! go brush your teeth, mikey!""
even if he acts like a kid, deep down he knows it's not safe for you to take part in his gang life, he thinks it's dangerous. he'll try and teach you some moves, just so you can defend yourself when he's not around (which is like never cause he's literally glued to your side but wtvr manjiro ( ´-`)). if you know how to fight tho, I think that's a whole new story, more or less. he'd still worry about your safety, but wouldnt mind you getting involved.
mikey would also have a hard time opening up. don't expect him to be comfortable to show any emotions to you when you first meet him or when you guys start dating. sure he'll be always happy around you, sometimes grumpy, angry, but I feel like he'll show his "weakness" much more later, when he feels more comfortable around you and when he makes sure you won't leave him after that.
I also like to think he has the same weakness as his brother to the ladies. like let's face it, getting rejected 10 times and still going for 20.. this is what I call weakness, and since shinichiro practically raised manjiro I think he rubbed off on his little brother. the thing is, since shin is mikey's one and only exemple, I don't think he'll actually act up on it and get rejected like his big bro (I feel like he's scared of rejection and seeing his brother get it every single time it made him precautions on things like these (/。\)).
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pray4saint · 10 months
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how it was on your honeymoon with chuckle sammy
masterlist & descrip. rated r. 16+. smut. afab!reader & gn!reader. 2.2k words total. sfw version.
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ted - afab!reader, shorter blurb, ted being a tease, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, sheet humping, implied oral sex (reader receiving)
ted teased you all throughout the day, mercilessly. he wanted to work you up for that night. after all, you were married now, it wasn't the same as dating sex.
”ted c'mon hands off.” you pulled his hand from your thigh and dropped it back in his lap. ”you can wait until we get to the hotel, can't you my love?” ted faked a moment of thought. ”yeah, course i can.” you nodded to him and quickly kissed his cheek. not even five minutes later, his hand was back on your thigh, inching closer to your sex.
by the time you'd gotten to the hotel, you were all hot and bothered and frustrated. ”what is wrong with you?” you roll your suitcase out of the way and turn around to face your husband. he reached for your arm, pulling you closer until he can get his hands perched your waist, flushing your chests together. ”what do you mean sweetheart? what did i do?” in all reality he knew what he was doing and he was enjoying every second of your irritation. you scowl at him and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, it's not far, just far enough to whisper against your mouth, ”is there anything i can do to make it better my dear?” his hands travel south, to the sides of your thighs. ”i think there might be.” despite the small smile on your lips, your tone is still firm and frustrated. ”oh yeah?”
there was a flurry of sloppy, open-mouthed, loud making out and clothes flying everywhere as ted guided you back to the bed.
- ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ -
”sweetheart look at how wet y'are for me.” your husband pulled his hand away from your slit and you whined at the loss of contact. you watched him turn his middle and index fingers in the light to show off the slick you'd covered them with. ”ted, c'mon. stop teasing me.” he chuckled and kissed the inside of your thigh before he slid his fingers along your slit and when you went to protest again, cut you off by plunging his fingers into your cunt.
the sleep depravity, the hours of buildup, him, his fingers, the warmth of the room, how the sheets felt, it all added to how good his fingers felt pumping in and out of you, his other hand plants firmly on the plush of your thigh, keeping you close to him. on occasion he'd kiss at your clit, trailing down to where his fingers worked you open. ”god you're gorgeous hon'.” you almost didn't pick up on his words because all you could really hear was your mewls and the sound of his fingers moving with your fluids.
when you pulled your head up from the pillow and down at the man between your legs, you could see his hips moving. he was bucking into the sheets trying to release some of the friction in his pants and it only turned you on more. ”baby, fuck– come up here and–” you whined at how he slowed his fingers and tilted his head at you in interest, although he knew how you hated it when he slowed down. ”teddy come up here and fuck me.” you reached your hand down from where it had fisted at the sheets to the side of his face, caressing his cheek. ”not until you've come undone like this f'me. you understand right my dear? just wanna make you feel good.” before you can challenge his words, he picks up the pace and puts his tongue to work at your clit. your hand moves rather frantically up to his hair and you grab tight, throwing your head back once again. it was gonna be a long night for you.
charlie - afab!reader & one use of 'girl', nervous!charlie, praise, kind of service dom!charlie
since you and charlie got on that first plane, he'd been worried about what your expectations would be for your first night as a married couple. sure, you'd had sex plenty of times before but this was different. you were married now and in his mind there were certain expectations that came with that. of course you were so preoccupied with the flights and getting to the hotel that night that you didn't seem to notice his nervous demeanour.
”you ready to go?” you squeezed your new husband's hand to get his attention away from the ceiling. ”hm, yeah, m'ready.” you gave him an unsure look but nonetheless kept walking through and up to the ticket check for the next plane.
with how unsure he seemed in the airport about whatever was on his mind, it made you worry, and that entire next flight you held your hand in his or on his thigh, even while you were asleep. and as much as he enjoyed the physical display of your care, it didn't ease his mind much. also, with your hand moved on his thigh in your sleep, there were a few times it seemed like your hand wandered dangerously close to his crotch, leaving him both nervous and a little horny.
”char come here would you?” your husband perked up from the bedroom, getting up to find you in the bathroom. ”what's up?” you stood in front of the mirror, towel up high around your chest and it really was not helping how his mind still continued to wander to what could happen tonight. ”does this spot look like a pimple?” you turn to him with a pout on your lips. ”no baby, y'look beautiful.”
”you know you don't have to say that just because we're married right?” you look at him through the mirror with a smile. he puts his hands up in self defence, ”i'm not lying, you look gorgeous.” you tap at your lips and your husband rushes over, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then to your lips. ”m'serious, you look so good, always do.” you smile against his lips and in no time you find yourself straddling charlie in the bedroom, towel discarded on the floor.
”charlie, honey, it's okay.” you hold your lips close to his ear, your hands running under his shirt.
”no baby, i want this to be special for you.” you smile at him but you don't move. ”please.” after a moment of thinking you give in and roll over.
- ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ -
once your husband had gotten his cock nestled inside you, snug against the walls of your cunt, there was this renewed sense of confidence in him, and it was evident in how he pressed his hips against yours, hands moving along your sides while his mouth pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your chest, making you moan with your hands rested on his shoulders.
”charlie f– charlie fuck, feels so good.” you held him close as you could, the combined feeling of his cock dragging inside your pussy and his mouth sucking hickeys into your navel and the surrounding skin. he mumbled something against your skin but you couldn't hear, too enamoured by everything else.
he's like a dog waiting for and wanting your approval. ”really? feels good?” you can only nod in response, whining as he rolls his hips into you over and over again. even without your verbal praise, the nod you gave him made him more confident and he moved with a faster pace. ”ohgodohgodohgod,” the little swears you let out under your breath and praises you managed to mutter between moans encouraged charlie, and bit by bit the original nervousness he had was removed entirely, replaced with this need, the need to make you cum.
”please don't stop, i'm so,” another moan was torn from your body, making your face scrunch up and charlie absolutely loved how you looked, wrecked for him, whining and clenching down on his cock. ”so close handsome.” he almost purred at the nickname, pulling one of his hands low to your pelvis where he pressed his thumb down against your clit. the action solicited a louder moan from you, your cunt begging his cock to keep fucking into you.
as he got closer, he kept pushing it away, focused entirely on making you cum on his dick. ”charlie, m'gonna cum.” he breathed against your chest, pressing a soft kiss between your breasts. ”yeah? y'gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” again you can only nod. ”god y'so beautiful.” all you can do is moan under his touch, letting the feeling in your stomach grow even further.
”fuck, charlie, fuck!” you screamed as you let your orgasm wash over you, your husband fucking his cock into you through your orgasm, praising you through it, kissing along the the expanse of your chest. ”so good baby, that's my sweet girl.”
once you'd gotten through your high and he'd pulled out, you were quick to sit up and slide off the bed to your knees. ”what are you doing love, come get some sleep.” despite his words, you're not gonna leave him unfinished, his cock still hard.
with a heavy breath you reach up, settling yourself between his legs and reach for his dick, him gasping at even the light touches ”m'gonna make you cum now honey, okay?” now it's his turn to only nod in response.
schlatt - gn!reader although many uses of word 'wife', desperate!schlatt, dom!schlatt, size kink, praise, dirty talk, superiority kink, calling schlatt 'sir', mention of cumming inside/creampie
your husband of barely a day had kind of been fixated on having his way with you since the moment you sliced the cake at the reception. because of the constant moving around airports and getting on and off planes you didn't notice the darker glint in his eye when you looked up at him. plus, as horny as he was, he knew he shouldn't distract you while you were in the zone, getting from one place to the next.
the scheduled pick up time for the car rental was tomorrow morning, but for the evening you and schlatt clambered into an uber.
”thank you.” you waved with a small smile at the uber driver, but then schlatt was dragging you by the wrist into the hotel, the bell boy moving your bags. he was quick with reception, getting the keycard to go upstairs.
you tried to talk to him but nothing changed, he didn't say a word. once you'd reached the room he waited for the bell boy to put your bags inside and nodded to him as he left.
”j, baby what the f–” his lips were on yours in an instant, pushing you against the door while he turned the lock. the action took you back, but still you gave him, kissing him back with your hands against his chest. when he pulled away from you there was a string of saliva connecting your lips and he smiled at how flushed your face was. ”i've needed you s'bad. so bad.” pressed against you, you could feel his hard-on and it made you gasp. ”go get on the bed for me sweetheart.” his tone was sweet but you still heard something bitter in the words.
- ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ -
once he'd got you on your stomach with your ass up and his cock inside you, his pace was brutal, as was the grip schlatt had on your hips. you were sure by the time morning rolled around there'd be marks left behind by his hands.
”y'so small under me, hm? my perfect little wife?” it was a rhetorical question that was met with only the sounds of you moaning his name. it wasn't a sense of ownership – maybe it was – but he loved how tiny you looked beside him, and under him, and on top of him. he loved knowing he could cover your entirety like a blanket, and something about it made him so needy to have you even in the most tame situations.
”god, bet'ya didn't know how close i was to havin' you meet in the plane bathrooms, huh?” again the only response he got was your sounds of pleasure. he allowed his hands to move from your hips to your back, feeling along the arch and you screamed for him, he could feel how it reverberated close to your heart and it made him chuckle.
every word he said to you made it harder to hold out, but you kept trying. you wanted so badly to be good for him. to be his sweet little wife who took everything he gave you. ”m'gettin' so close pretty..” his voice trailed off, low grunts making you squeeze against his cock. ”cum, cum inside, please..” your words were barely audible, a long low mutter, and schlatt leaned over, his hips still pressed against your ass. ”what was that sweetheart?” now you could feel his breath against the back of your neck and it made you shiver. it also made you clench down on his cock yet again. you whined at him when he kissed just behind your ear. ”c'mon pretty, what was it?”
”want you–” you interrupted yourself with a moan. ”want you to cum inside, please sir.” the words only seemed to encourage your husband to rut into with a faster fervour than before, his breathing and low noises of pleasure like music to your ears.
”i know you'been holdin' back baby but you can go ahead, you can go on and cum. cum f'me like the perfect little thing you are f'me.” there was no other warning and your moans became pornographic when you came. ”good job baby, did so good” he kissed the back of your neck as his hips continued to rock against you. ”just hold on a minute for me, okay?”
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pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.
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misskingshit · 18 days
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𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo
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The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.
I get so weak on my knees
Lose all control
Damn, her silhouette
So hot
Fuck bein’ a gentleman
I'm going to fuck her instead
The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.
Best Rap Album.
To say you were excited is an understatement.
You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.
The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.
"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.
"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.
"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.
"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"
"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."
Here we go.
"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.
"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.
"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."
You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.
On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.
"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.
"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"
"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.
In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.
You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.
Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.
By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.
"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.
The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.
"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.
You didn't expect him to give you a hug.
"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.
A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.
This was definitely going to stir the waters.
You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).
"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"
Obviously, you blushed.
The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.
Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.
´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.
"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.
It just slips away from him.
Just with you.
A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."
"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.
You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.
The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.
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