Tumgik
#i'm too little too late. i have no substance
espy-heart · 2 years
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been trying to get in the habit of drawing before i go to bed.
i'd put this on my other blog, but i kinda just thought this'll explain why i don't post much anymore.
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madschiavelique · 9 months
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission
tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
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Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
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fauustic · 11 months
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hi hi! i'm not very active on tumblr anymore but i came back for miguel o'hara and your snippets are what are keeping me alive at the very moment, is it alright if i request for some miguel fluff?
the prompt is that he tries really hard to keep his "touch-starvedness" unnoticeable but reader makes that very hard for him because even brushing shoulders and hands is enough to send him into cardiac arrest. it all goes to hell when reader gets genuinely concerned for him and twists into reader giving miguel the gentle touch he deserves :3
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(( I loved this ask so much... I will definitely do a different concept with this idea to bring it more justice! thank you for your request, so wonderful nonetheless! ))
my requests are still open!! i didn't proofread this one so if there are any mistakes sorry!!
gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara
fluff. miguel, so desperately touch-starved, yearns for any touch he can’t get. you unknowingly give it to him.
warnings: jealous and slightly violent miguel, perhaps slightly suggestive? MAINLY FLUFF THOUGH!! HE LOVES YOU SM!! anyhow he’s just a little silly and painfully in love with his co-worker ..
word count: 2852
A soft bump met your shoulders, tilting the vial you held ever so delicately with much more force than anticipated from the unexpected collision. The goggles resting upon your nose slanted from the impact as the burst of color within the flask splashed onto your lab coat. A frustrated groan erupted from your lips as a light chuckle sounded from right beside you. 
“Jeez– this isn’t funny Miguel!” You couldn’t help but whine while hurriedly cleaning up your lab station before anyone from a different department of Alchemax could see your slip-up. The vial that held a mysterious substance wasn’t anything to worry about, it was a prototype for a more ecologically efficient paint alternative to further the health of citizens amongst Nueva York– but the progress being wiped away over something as small as a little bump on the shoulder almost made you fall to your knees. 
Being hired as a rookie chemist to the most successful chemical corporation in existence had you sweating bullets over your every move– not even allowing yourself to step foot in the break room in fear that you’d have to reiterate what you have done during your time here. Which was much less accomplished than your assigned veteran lab partner, who always offered to help bring your concepts to fruition– but you declined with ease because you wanted to feel worthy to the department you were assigned.
This didn’t stop Miguel from coincidentally being a step behind your movements always, despite your insistence that you had everything under control.
It was nerve-wracking, feeling his gaze study you a bit too hard as you measured how clean a sample of underground Nueva York was in the dim light of a late night shift. He’d make quips, soft against your exhausted temple while Miguel would finish the rest of your unfinished goals. Drifting off into the embrace of sleep, your eyes would crack open ever so slightly as he examined your work with a level of admiration in his gaze you've never noticed fully awake– tinkering and fiddling with whatever environmentally-productive project you had going on that shift. The last recollection of the night would be the touch of Miguel’s knuckles grazing your shoulders, a jacket wrapping around your back like a blanket. The smell of praline alongside bergamot orange stuck to your body like a shadow as you slumped awake the following morning, rushing home to shower and get ready for the shift you had the upcoming afternoon.
Following the next day, Miguel had a subtle smile upon his features as you returned his jacket with a flustered expression he’s never seen from you. Excitement bubbled against his chest like a shaken-up soda as he observed the slight bow of your head in appreciation, hands atop his scarred grasp that held onto the jacket you returned. You never caught the deep breaths flooding his lungs as the two of you separated, his jacket held tightly against his hammering heart. “I, I need to go grab a coffee–” Miguel muttered underneath his breath, leaving before you could even acknowledge his dismissal. Confusion dazed your focus, remembering the last time you asked if he had wanted any coffee he mentioned he didn’t even like the caffeinated drink in the first place. Told you it made his insomnia worse.
The both of you had grown closer ever since that experience as surprising as it was, due to his cocky yet cold attitude usually clashing against your focus. If it wasn’t for his seriousness, the two of you would be bickering like partners forced to work on a group project in grade school. Which brought you back to the present, cleaning up the mess he had technically created due to bumping into you. A frown etched upon his face, stress lines from his hundreds of late shifts growing prominent at the tip of his lips. “I was doing something important– and you waltz in and just knock it all over?”
“‘Didn’t mean to, conejito.” Miguel replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, waving off his actions like every other time he's accidentally skewed your focus. "But I'm more than willing to fix what I did if you just stop acting like a spooked animal." It rolled off his tongue like an insult, but you knew that's just how he spoke. Short and blunt, with little quips towards anyone who annoys him just briefly. Just like every other co-worker, despite the amount of time the two of you have spent together, you always would get a taste of his attitude before you snapped right back at him.
But today, you were tired and running off of pure coffee as the sun began to set. Bickering with Miguel was something you wanted to stray away from at the time being. So you caved, giving him a gesture to come closer to you. "You can't help if you are standing seven feet away from me, O'Hara." You told him the obvious, readjusting the goggles that sat atop your nose while you went over the variables involved with your test. 
For the first time in response to your sarcasm, Miguel was silent. Seconds ticked by as you grew more invested in resuming from where you left off, the little quarrel leaving your mind as soon as it came. You thought he'd ignore you and end up doing his own thing in your shared lab, but the distinct footfalls from his leather shoes moving closer after the rare quietness proved you wrong.
Miguel slid up right beside your hunched stance, close enough that the warmth from his arms met your wrists but not close enough where his rolled-up sleeves would collide against the fabric fitted against your arms.
You stood there, measuring the exact precise measurements from before with the several natural ingredients surrounding the both of you. And Miguel just watched, at least that's what you assumed, because that burning gaze of his seeped into the back of your head and sizzled against your fingertips working painstakingly slow mixing and working against the organic compounds. Nervousness prickled your skin, goosebumps following in its wake.
Due to your posture, when you snapped your attention to him you couldn't help but look up. Miguel's features were soft, an expression that you've never seen on him meeting your eyes. He was looking down at you, breathing in sleepily while subsciously leaning his body into your space. The unusual mannerism caught your attention with haste, and you were about to question if he was feeling okay before he perked up like he got shocked.
His gaze was distant until he realized you were looking straight at him– immediately looking off towards the vials you had splayed in front of you like he was caught doing something wrong. You couldn't help but frown while you watched Miguel exhale deeply, his index and thumb meeting the bridge of his nose in a habit you've noticed throughout your time here. Miguel was stressed. 
"Hey, it's okay that you messed up." The forgiveness falling from your lips only made him curl into himself more. Worry clouded your mind at seeing him so worked up, something you were so unfamiliar with. Usually, Miguel expressed himself in abrupt irritation that you always tried to help him through– the silent loathing almost made you ask him to go home out of concern. "Mistakes happen in the lab, Miguel. Please don't beat yourself up.
Soft graze meeting his shoulder, his body tensed up at the unexpected attempt of your's that was made to comfort him. The both of you danced around each other at best, the most contact from one another would be leading his movements with your own hold onto his hands while instructing assistance. Miguel's mouth fell agape, his unusually sharp canines he kept away was brought to your attention from the dim light highlighting his features. A gasp followed as your hand met his cheek while aiming for his forehead, which he tried to cover up with a cough. 
"What are you doing–" He hissed out in a mess as the heat blooming from his cheeks set your own touch aflame. You hushed him, which he obliged without a word. Strange, you thought to yourself again. He never acts like this towards anyone, let alone get this close to another chemist within the building of Alchemax.
Palm brushing against the strands of hair blessing his forehead, you checked his temperature while his eyes fluttered close. "I'm checking your temperature, Miguel." You murmured against his jaw, boosting your height on your tiptoes in order to reach his forehead. "You've been off today, it's concerning." 
"I'm fine," He muttered into the space between you, beginning to distance himself from your touch until your free hand met his other shoulder. It was as if a weight held him into place, grounding him within your touch as he shakily dug his fingers into his black dress-pants. You hadn't noticed the subtle slices into his thighs from his claws. Miguel's resolve was failing terribly.
His breath, quick and shallow, met the skin of your ear. It tickled. Hot air crashed into your contrasting cold flesh, digging into your nerves like boiling water.
Once your skin met his temple, he pushed against your touch like you were the only thing keeping himself afloat. His grasp met your elbow while the other relied on the counter for support. "Just feeling a bit under the weather." Miguel managed to mumble, brow furrowing as if he was in pain– never once did you catch the reddened hue painting his face and flustered glint in his eye.
"I've been telling you to stop overworking yourself," you scold him softly, shaking his grasp on your elbow just to take his hands into yours. "How much sleep have you gotten recently?" The question makes him cringe, the dark circles around his eyes as prominent as ever.
"Not enough." He admitted.
"You know that's not good for you." You reminded him with a frown. Warmth blossomed in your chest as his skin, warm and marred from his work with all sorts of scientific junk, caressed your knuckles with his thumb. He had calmed down as time ticked by, a sleepiness that clung onto him as darkness painted the canvas beyond the window of your floor. A huff of air escaped his lips as he rested his cheek against the cool of the lab table, safely distanced from what you were working on. Miguel’s hand didn’t dare move from your grasp, and you didn’t think about moving either. Miguel was slowly becoming a good friend of your’s, if something so small as a little comfort was needed you were more than willing to help.
“Yeah, yeah.” Was all he said. Silence dawned over the both of you as you resumed back to fixing up his mistakes. The dim light filled words left unsaid with a soft ambience, vials clinging against each other gently while liquids poured into one another. The night ended with you successfully conjuring up an ecological alternative to whatever paint Nueva had used before, which will certainly be good on your reports– and Miguel ended up getting the rest he needed.
You had pulled up a chair for him long ago, and he took it without a word. Slumped against your lab station, each time you’d try to pull away from him he’d mumble out a little, “no, please– stay here.” with his eyes still fluttered shut. He didn’t drool or snore, in fact it was a bit concerning how quiet he was as slumber took him. Almost like a vampire in his coffin, the idea of Miguel dressing up as Dracula made you stifle a laugh against the back of your free hand. Maybe you’d have to convince him to dress up for the next corporate Halloween event, as silly as it would be.
Miguel’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, mumbling out incoherency as your hand anchored him to this world. The light reminder of success infiltrated your senses as the smell of beeswax and linseed oil– honey and lemon. You’d already be on your way back home if Miguel didn't have his fingers intertwined with yours, murmuring things you’d never imagine him to say. It made your stomach churn, a wobbly smile meeting your lips as you laughed off his sleepy nonsense.
The fun ended too quickly it felt, as he suddenly stretched and groaned– his hand pulling you a little with him. The weight on him snapped him awake, senses kicking into overdrive to clear his confusion. Once he realized he was in the safety of the lab he shared with you, Miguel visibly relaxed. When his gaze met your interlocked fingers, he almost fell out of his chair.
Miguel whispers out your name in an embarrassed mess, wrapping his free hand around his mouth in an attempt to calm himself down. But you merely hummed an automatic response, and he couldn’t help but shake the thoughts clouding his consciousness. You were affecting him in a way that almost left him frozen, emotions that felt close to a high rushed into his brain and messed with any rationality he was able to clutch. Miguel’s claws he kept at bay threatened to unsheathe into your knuckles as warmth painted his features into an unbearable heat.
By the time he had fully woken up, you were dozing off yourself. 
Elbow propped against the counter while your head rested on your hand, drool etched the side of your lips as the world of dreams scooped you up and cradled you lovingly. You were blissfully aware of the carnal gaze of your lab partner, soaking in your soft, resting expression like a full-course meal. His heart ached painfully at a small snore that escaped his lips.
When it came to you, it’s almost as if he had a bad case of cute aggression on top of the painful crush that held him in a chokehold.
Every brush of your shoulder meeting his own short circuited his every thought, shocking his cold attitude into a soft spot for you. Every graze upon his hands, with that mouth of yours snapping at him with a certain playfulness, had him melting against you like putty. And here you were, spending the night with him in the stiff chairs of the lab simply because he had told you to in his exhausted stupor. 
Miguel almost hyperventilated at how nice you were to him, grasp tightening on your hand every so slightly. He wanted all of you, he realized, as his lips came into contact with your knuckles. 
Were you as sweet as always with the others in your shared department? Did you give them a piece of your mind, but then turned around with open arms and a hug when something went right? Did you share your secrets in the comfort of being busy, finding companionship with the one helping you who wasn’t him?
Miguel kissed your finger-tips as a soft gasp escaped your drooling lips, breathing in your scent like it was keeping him from unravelling altogether. The thoughts of someone else so close to you made his skin crawl and the urge to dig his claws within flesh. An insistent voice growled in the back of his head, “protect, closer, closer, need.”
It was his voice, snarling like a devil on his shoulder whenever he was clouded with your embrace. He craved your touch like it was a necessity to live, as important to breathe. His fangs trailed your wrist and your hold tightened onto his own hard instinctively. A pleased hum rolled off his tongue, you were just like a bunny caught into a trap. Prey at his mercy.
But he pulled away before he was too into his own head and did something he shouldn’t. Miguel wanted to see your nervous, wide-eyes gaze for himself when he offered to kiss you– or practically begged you to when the time came. In no way would he allow himself to take away a moment so special between the two of you.
So Miguel swiped away the drool dripping down your chin, bringing his thumb that delicately grazed your face onto his tongue and tasted your spit for himself. It was sweet, like you had just finished chewing down a piece of pink bubblegum hours ago– and that knowledge alone almost sent him off the edge of any human thought he had left.
So he collected himself, soothing out his lab coat before bringing a palm against his hair to smooth it back out. With a light smile and a deep breath, he invaded your space with a gentleness that rivalled a melodious tune.
Shaking you awake, Miguel brought his claws to your hair and raked through the curls. The action took you both by surprise, by you couldn’t help but purr a sleepy “hello, silly,” at the sight of waking up to his sleep-ridden self. He only chuckled, a red painting his ears that you couldn’t see.
“Hello to you too, mi corazón. I’ll help you get home.”
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Guts Makes a Mess Out of You
Pairing: Guts x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, size kink, banter, growling, size difference, aftercare
A/N: Berserk has always been a bit too dark for my tastes but I can't deny my love for this man. Or Casca. I would do literally anything for her.
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Guts's hands left their imprint on your small hips as the sounds of your naked bodies smacking against each other continued to fill the small room at the inn you were staying at for the night. The bed was perfect for you, you who were small compared to him, but neither of you actually planned on sleeping tonight. You'd gotten used to sleeping on the road, the bed now a luxury reserved solely for love making.
"Need more, want to feel more of you, inside." You could barely talk, your throat was so dry, sore from moaning for hours but you wanted to give him more, to get more of him. While you could barely move your legs you still hooked them onto his hips, soft skin, meeting rough, scarred skin.
"More? You've become very greedy for my cum lately. Do you want it only here?" His hand patted down your stomach and pressed against your clit, his legs digging into the bed, making it screak and scrape against the wooden floor. There would be a lot to explain in the morning and you might have to pay the innkeeper extra for keeping some of his other guests up for so long but that wasn't your problem right now.
Right now your problem was the fact that Guts had no where else to put his cum, your pussy and ass were already dripping full of the sticky white substance.
"You keep taking more from me, and what will you give me in return my love? For all this cum that you got, I'd say one thing is proper." Guts kept hammering his hard cock into you, the tip ramming hard against your womb, against your gspot, fucking the cum back in, "I want you pregnant by the end of this. You better god damn be with all this cum in you."
"I will!" It was something you only talked of in passing but it was always a nice dream to have. "Please Guts, put a baby in me. Please, give me more of your cum!" Your back arched for him, toes curling, lungs burning as you screamed his name in bliss, your pussy milking him one final time.
"And here too." He pulled out abruptly, frantically climbing to straddle your face and fuck your throat, "Take it in here too. Keep my cum in all three of your holes. I'll keep feeling them all up for you."
You smiled the best you could when he pulled out, your lips and jaw painted white from his thick seed. "I thought... I was gonna choke." His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears that stuck to the corners of your eyes. "You got really into that one didn't you?"
"It's been a while since we did it on a bed. Even though this one is..." He pushed his hand into the matrass, cringing at the noise, "Not the best quality. Was I too rough on you? You were pretty loud."
"I think we're lucky no one walked in here with weapons to make us shut up." Guts laughed as he moved to sit at the edge of he bed, stretching his arms high above his head. "Did I give you a nice work out?" You ran your hand down his spine, feeling him shiver under your touch like a leaf.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that? I did work up a bit of an apatite. I'll go see what we can eat here and bring it up. I'll bring you something to clean up with too. I know clothes usually does the trick but I really want to get it washed up while we can." And he couldn't exactly go walking down the stairs with his clothes being covered in stains.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" You made a little kissy face at him. Guts rolled his eyes but was more then happy to kiss you, a gentle contrast to what happened earlier to be sure. "Good. Now you can go. Get us food. Go."
"Is that all I'm good for? Fucking and bringing you food?" He started pulling his clothes on, the only downside of staying at an inn, you couldn't enjoy looking at him naked for as long as you wanted to.
You snuggled in the bed, smirking at your boyfriend, "No. You're also an amazing cuddler. A duty you will fulfill when you get the food." He made a mildly offended face which then broke into a smile, followed by another kiss before he was out to the door and off to find something to eat for tonight.
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lysenfeu · 6 months
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Helluva Drug
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Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Civilian!FReader Word Count: 3.7k Prompt: Sex pollen
Summary: A civilian gets caught in the crossfire as Vigilante busts a drug operation outside Evergreen and they both get exposed to a strange new substance. Content: Violence, Kidnapping, Dubcon (sex pollen), Accidental Drugging, Smut (F/M), Sex with strangers, Rough sex, Unprotected Sex (no condom)
A/N: It’s a Vigilante-mission-themed fic so please heed the warnings, Vig is a little unhinged and there’s some canon-typical violence and mature themes. Also, Reader is pretty nonchalant about the dubcon and both of them have a good time. Enjoy!
[Read on AO3] [Kinktober 2023 Masterlist]
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"Peacemaker, it's Vigilante. I just got the scoop on a big heroin shipment coming in tonight! Let's go down there…" -Adrian Chase, Peacemaker S01E01
Your night wasn’t supposed to go like, it really wasn’t. It had started off as a completely normal shift. You were going about your regular deliveries on your assigned postal route, a quiet little stretch that dipped in and out along the small town Washington state roads. The last stop before you could go home was a drop-off in a warehouse district office address on the outskirts of Evergreen.
Your job was routine, boring and you’d gotten complacent. You hadn’t been paying attention, simply dropping off the parcel and walking back to your truck with the music blaring in your headphones. With your head in the clouds, you completely failed to realize something terrible was happening before it was too late. 
You heard the shouting next to your ear a mere second before your earbud was yanked out and you were grabbed from behind. You didn't even get a chance to scream before a hand was covering your mouth and two men were shoving you through a side door into one of the warehouses you thought was empty. After a very brief interrogation, in which you determine these are not very good men and this is definitely not an empty warehouse, they disagree on what to do next. 
So now. you were sitting on the cold hard floor of the warehouse, hands zip-tied behind you, wondering what the fuck is going to happen. At least they haven’t hurt you…yet. 
The sun was starting to set when you arrived here, you’re not sure how long you’ve been stuck here but you’re certain it’s fully dark outside now. You sighed, flexing your wrists to try and get the ache out of them, the damned zip ties are very uncomfortable. Your head snapped up when you heard yelling coming from outside. Bracing yourself for another unexpected development you were caught off guard when a masked man in black and teal barreled into the room and pointed a pistol at you. 
"Oh god, please don't hurt me!" You immediately squeezed your eyes shut in fear, deeply worried about what might happen to you next.
You waited for the sound of the gun firing but nothing happened. You cracked an eye open and he was just standing there instead.  Instead of shooting you as you thought, although the gun was still pointed at you, he cocked his head to the side, studying you carefully.
"You  don't look like a drug dealer."
"I'm not. I work for the post office." You nodded at your uniform, clearly displaying your profession. “Can you tell me who the fuck you are?”
“I’m Vigilante. Who the fuck are you ?”
You shook your head in dismay. “Someone who really doesn’t want to be here.”
“You gonna tell me what the hell is a postal worker doing in a cartel hideout?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.” You grumbled, still deeply regretting your life choices as you explained what had happened to you earlier.
“Well lucky for you, I’m here.” 
He crouched down beside you and pulled out a knife. You flinched, still on edge from the kidnapping, but he simply grabbed your hands and cut you free. You stood up trying to ignore the pins and needles pricking at your wrists as you took a better look at the masked stranger who rescued you. You had no idea who he was but he did look rather impressive. Tall, broad shoulders, slutty waist and a lot of weapons. He didn't look half bad, even if you couldn’t see his face and he was wearing teal.  Very lucky for you.
You followed him out the door and when you looked down the hall, your eyes widened in shock. “Did…did you kill them?’
“Hm?” Vig took a quick look in the direction your gaze was fixed and saw the mess. “Oh yeah, definitely. All dead, don’t worry about it.”
You were a bit shaken up by the bodies on the floor outside the room, leaking blood and brains all over the floor. You held your breath and tried not to look too long as you gingerly stepped over the corpses. Vigilante kept his hand on your arm, leading you down the hallway while looking for the exit. You were startled by a noise coming from behind you and you looked over your shoulder, quickly screaming as you saw the barrel of a handgun pointed at you. Vig spun around, pulling out his own weapon and firing a few shots toward the very pissed-off gang member. He yanked at your arm and shoved you through the first open door on the left.
You were absolutely livid. “You said you killed them all!”
“I thought I did! I got all four of them!”
He pushed you across the room, a shabby office full of shelves and some scattered furniture. You crouched down on the floor behind a rickety metal table with something wrapped in brown paper strewn on it. You hissed at him with barely suppressed anger. 
“There were FIVE.”
He huffed in annoyance. “Obviously I know that now .”
You covered your ears and ducked down as gunshots rang out, echoing through the warehouse. Your ears were ringing as the two men exchanged fire, when a stray bullet flew over the table and the paper package exploded. A cloud of white powder spread out and dusted around the room. You coughed as it got into your nose and mouth. You noted that it smelled like lavender and tasted like pine trees, a very strange combination. You wiped it off your face with your sleeves and risked a glance over the edge of the table. The shots had stopped and the man in teal looked over at you.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
You panicked a little at the thought of being left alone again after all the unexpected violence. “Where are you going?!”
He hesitated for a second before answering you. “I’m just gonna go and count again. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?”
You nodded, not having much choice otherwise. “Okay.”
You pulled yourself up from behind the table and tried to steady your nerves. You started to feel tingling in your fingertips and wondered if you were having a panic attack. But instead of the usual tunnel vision, you just felt…warm. Really, really warm. Uncomfortably warm, like someone poured hot water directly into your veins. Sweat gathered on your forehead and your thoughts started to get jumbled, you were having a hard time focusing on anything.
“Are you okay?”
You spun around to see that Vigilante had finally come back. You took a long hard look at him, really taking your time studying the strange man in front of you. Had teal always looked this attractive? He was dangerous, certainly, but you found you didn’t mind that too much right now. Maybe he miscounted but he had still saved you, he was clearly a good guy, a hero. Your hero.
Vig was watching you with deep concern.
“Hey, come here.”
He reached out and you let him pull you forward with no protest. Your pupils were blown out so wide your eyes were practically black, your cheeks were bright red and you were glistening with sweat. Vig frowned under the cover of his mask, something wasn’t right. You weren’t like this a moment ago. He tugged off one of his gloves and pressed his bare hand to your forehead discovering your skin was blazing hot. The moment he touched you, you felt tingles spread through every cell of your body. You felt like you’d been electrocuted and suddenly you knew there was only one thing you could possibly do next. You don't bother to fight the impulses screaming at you to get close to him, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. Your addled brain clearly didn’t think things through as you got a mouthful of nylon instead of soft skin, which was doing nothing to sate the overwhelming urgency racing through you.
He stumbled backwards as your fingers fumbled around the back of his neck, haphazardly trying to tug the fabric off. He grabbed your hands, yanking them away from his head and flinging you back.
“What the hell?! Don’t touch the fucking mask!”
“I’m sorry! I just-” You tried to calm down and remember how to breathe. “-want to kiss you so bad.” The only intelligible thought your mind was able to conjure was how badly you needed him to touch you, kiss you, anything .  Your body was on fire and the only thing that would help was him. Your entire being was vibrating, desperately craving a taste of the teal and black-clad stranger in front of you. 
Vigilante moved away from you as fast as he could, putting some space between your bodies as he started to feel way too hot. He tried taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Something weird was going on, you were staring at him like you wanted to eat him. He started to pant, suddenly feeling very lightheaded as he smelled a hint of flowery something and what tasted kind of like Christmas filtered through the fibres in his mask. An unexpected warmth flooded his system, rapidly coursing through every inch of his body.
“Shit, why is it so hot in here? What the fuck.” 
Beads of sweat started dripping down the back of his neck and the dark fabric stretched over his face started feeling deeply uncomfortable as his temperature kept rising. In less than a minute he felt like he was sitting on the surface of the sun, his body overwhelmed by waves of heat. He needed to keep the mask on, needed to protect his identity from you, there was too much danger. He didn’t even know you but when he looked over at you, his brain short-circuited. Everything that wasn't you was thrown out of his mind, right now you were all he could think about. His body burned at the thought of getting his hands on you. He needed to touch you, sink his teeth into you, just fucking feel you any way he could.
He wasn’t sure how long he managed to stay on the other side of the room. It felt like hours but was actually less than a minute until he just couldn’t take it anymore. He slipped his hands under the edge at the back and yanked his mask off, dropping it carelessly to the floor. He felt a degree or two cooler and took a few deep breaths, feeling the air on his bare face. He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed pink and still breathing heavily. 
You managed to get a decent look at his adorable dimples, messy dark curls and bright green eyes, darkened just like yours, before you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You practically pounced on him, your hands reaching out to grab the back of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. The second you touched him, the tingles came back in full force. It felt like you’d be shocked and any remaining shred of coherent thought either of you had flew out the window. This is all you wanted, what you needed. Vigilante had completely stopped fighting, his hands flying out to grab your hips and pull you closer as he hungrily kissed you back. Thanking any and every higher power that he took the mask off, you sank your teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned and you took the opportunity to shove your tongue in his mouth as his hands began to slide along your lower body, skating over your hips and waist, grabbing at your clothes and touching anywhere he could reach.
You finally broke the kiss to catch your breath and started clawing at his shoulders, you needed the barriers between you gone immediately. You were trying your best to tug off the layers of armour that were so irritatingly in your way, the tactical equipment the only thing keeping you from your ultimate desire. He regrettably removed his hands from your ass to do it himself, quickly moving to a series of hidden straps and buckles to release the complex gear. You started stripping off your own clothes, fumbling with the buttons in your haste before shucking off the rest of your uniform in record time. 
You barely had time to spin around before it was his turn to pounce. You gasped as he suddenly gripped the backs of your thighs and lifted you, pressing you against the nearest wall. Fuck, he was strong, holding you up like it was nothing. You whimpered, feeling yourself flood with wetness as his hands on your bare skin fed the desire racing through you.
“Need you. Now.” was the only thing you were able to mumble before you buried your face in his neck, not being able to resist scraping your teeth along the toned muscle.
Any other words you may have thought of were immediately shoved out of your mind as he reached down and positioned his cock at your entrance. He slowly slid inside you, letting you feel every inch dragging along your inner walls. Your head tipped back as he bottomed out and you were overwhelmed with how impossibly full you felt. His cock was absolutely incredible, the perfect fit to hit every sweet spot deep inside you. He wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and placed his free hand behind your head to stop you from smacking into the wall as he began to thrust. You dug your nails into his shoulders and moaned shamelessly as he set a brutal pace, not being able to hold back from pounding into you with his full strength. You barely resisted the urge to sink your teeth into the bicep flexed beside your head, instead leaning forward to capture his lips again. The light taste of juniper lingered mixed with the raw taste of him. Vigilante tasted faintly of mint with a hint of gunpowder and copper, the last flavour possibly being from your earlier bite.
You were completely lost in him, gazes locked on each other. Your breasts were pressed firmly against his chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his skin offering delicious friction as you bounced on his cock. You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs as you gushed around him, an endless stream of pleasure he was wringing from your body. You were practically drowning in the sea of his green eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as the pressure built more and more, coiling in your lower abdomen. 
It was almost embarrassing how quickly he was going to finish you off, he just felt so goddamn good . He swore and bit down on your shoulder when you finally screamed and clenched tightly around him. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably as spots danced across your vision, blurring everything out as you rode out the high. You were almost boneless in his arms as he continued to fuck you through your release.
You expected him to climax soon after you but he surprised you when he stopped, pulled out and set you back down on the floor. You whined at the loss of his cock inside you, feeling desperately empty without the warmth filling you up. Your legs were a little wobbly, still off balance from the intense orgasm just moments before but he steadied you, ensuring you didn’t tumble to the ground. You didn’t have to wonder long about what was happening as he quickly maneuvered you over to the table and placed a hand on your lower back, pushing down until you were bent over and exposed. 
“Stay like that for me, fuck, just like that.”
You weren’t sure how he was managing to string words together when you had been reduced to nothing but moans and whimpers for a while. You also weren't sure how much more of this exquisite torture you could take but your hazy mind and body were still screaming for his touch and you mindlessly spread your feet further apart, making room for him. You rested your elbows and chest on the table and held still as he pushed his still-hard cock back inside you. 
He leaned over and pressed you harder against the table with his full weight, his incredibly toned chest keeping you still as his fingers dug into your hips. Oh, fuck . You gasped as the new position let him hit even deeper inside you. You could barely breathe as his hips snapped into you over and over, the sound filling the small room. All you could do was hold on and try to stay conscious as you were mercilessly railed by Vigilante.
Your second climax hit you like a freight train, letting out a scream as your back arched and your body convulsed underneath him. He had the presence of mind to pull out at the last second, thick ropes of cum splattering onto the grey concrete instead of deep inside you. You had a fleeting thought about what a waste that was before your legs finally gave out and you sank down to the floor.
You lay flat on the cold warehouse floor for a moment, simply trying to catch your breath and ride out the aftershocks still rocketing through you. When you finally floated back down to Earth, you pulled yourself up and set about getting dressed. You were still a bit sweaty and your thighs were sticky as you picked up your scattered clothing. You slowly tugged your uniform back on, casually noting some of the small bruises and marks Vig had pressed into your skin with his hands and teeth.
After you were dressed you stood around awkwardly for a moment, avoiding looking at the redressed Vigilante as he pulled his mask back on. You wondered what you should say or do next. What was the social protocol here? What should you say? You were grateful when he spoke up first.
“Sex Panther.”
That…was not what you were expecting. 
“What?”
He turned towards you and held up the ruined paper package from the table. “It says ‘Sex Panther’. I think these guys were importing more than just heroin.”
You started to put two and two together with the drug cartel, the powder in the air and the Sex Panther label.
“So that stuff is what made all of…” You gestured awkwardly between the two of you, “This… happen?”
Vigilante nodded at you. "Looks like it. I think you got a way bigger dose, my mask filtered some of it."
You exhaled slowly, trying to process the information. Sex drugs explained a lot, you weren't normally the type to uncontrollably jump strangers' bones 5 minutes after meeting them (especially after watching them kill someone in front of you…). You shook your head to clear the last of your lingering mental haze and exhaustion started to set in. You were tired and your muscles were starting to ache from this whole ordeal, between the kidnapping and frenzied sex.
“So… what now?”
"How do you feel?"
You suppressed a tiny smile,  that was really nice of him to ask.
"Fine, a little worn out but fine." You looked around the ruined office and felt how damp and sticky you felt. "Um…can I go home now?"
He checked your eyes, they were back to normal. Your skin was still a little flushed but you were breathing normally and seemed okay.
“Yeah, sure. Come on.”
Vigilante cautiously led you out of the warehouse and walked you back to your truck, saying it was the least he could do after everything that happened. You climbed into the vehicle and fumbled around for your keys. 
“You sure you're gonna be okay to drive?”
“Yeah, uh. I feel fine, mostly. Just a little sore.” You coughed awkwardly, blushing a little as you looked away from him. “I really should go. My boss is gonna be pissed.”
He nodded. “Hey, just before you leave… “
You held your breath, wondering what he might want to ask next.
“You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”
You schooled your face into a deadpan expression, hiding your brief moment of disappointment that it wasn’t him asking for your number. “What, I shouldn't mention I was kidnapped by a drug gang, held hostage, watched a masked stranger kill some guys then got accidentally drugged with said stranger and had some of the best sex of my life in a random warehouse?”
Your eyes widened and you looked everywhere but at him as you chewed your lip nervously. That wasn’t exactly what you planned on admitting, it just flew out, you were tired .  You watched the corners of his eyes crinkle up through the red visor as he smiled under the mask.
“Well hey, that last part is fine but definitely not the other stuff.” His eyes narrowed and his tone got a little more serious. “This warehouse isn’t the only one that gang is operating, if you tell anyone about this, you'll have a target on your back. And you saw my face. So if you tell anyone about me, I'll have to kill you and that would suck because you’re really pretty.”
You sucked in an uneasy breath at the explicit threat to your life mixed with the strangely sweet compliment. “O-okay, sure. I won't tell anyone. Promise.”
His shoulders relaxed and his tone picked up again. “Okay, awesome. Sorry about all the shooting and you know, the accidental drugging. But I’m definitely not sorry the sex was so great. See ya!”
He stepped back and gave a little wave as you pulled out of the lot, quickly heading back towards home. You shook your head in disbelief at the events of your evening. Even if you did try and tell someone, who the fuck would believe you? Kidnapping, masked strangers and sex drugs? It was too weird to be real… unless you’re in Evergreen, apparently. Oh well. You didn’t die and it could’ve been worse, at least he was cute. 
Really, really cute.
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A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write so I really hope you guys enjoy it! Feel free to leave a comment, reblog or like <3
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holy-puckslibrary · 2 months
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━ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.
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──────────── 𝐰𝐜 — 1.9k 𝐜𝐰 — everyone is aged up / non-canon compliant ages bc i said so; rafe being an emotionally constipated, toxic douche-canoe 3000; an unhealthy dynamic; suggestive moments but not explicit; w*rd + substance mention, wheeze bein' a savage; and a potential cliffhanger? 𝐚/𝐧 — this is a lil nugget from a mini-series i have in the works :) lmk if you’d like to see more in the future! 💌 ────────────
main masterlist | MDNI
IF EVER THERE were a time when a human being might actually be capable of blowing steam from their ears, it would be this one.
Rafe Cameron has been pacing the length of the chapel's private lot since he dragged you out here who knows how long ago. Mumbling crudely configured sentences and half-baked schemes under his breath, he looks every bit the loose canon he's been branded as.
While not ideal, things could be worse—a lot worse. At the very least, he hasn't punched anything yet; concrete wall, tree trunk, or otherwise.
The "otherwise" in this situation (and most, to be frank) is JJ Maybank's pretty face.
Apparently, Rafe doesn't appreciate the way he's been touching you all afternoon.
"If that fuckin' pogue knows what's good for him, he—he'll keep his filthy hands off what's mine."
Strong words for someone who refuses to even attempt exclusivity, or make any sort of commitment whatsoever.
You gnaw on your cheek until copper stings your tongue.
JJ has to touch you, it's unavoidable.
Sarah, his younger sister and your lifelong best friend, has asked you to be her Maid of Honor and, to absolutely no one's surprise, John B, her fiancé, asked JJ Maybank to serve as his Best Man.
Sarah's older brother doesn't see it that way.
And why would he? That would involve rational thinking and a modicum of maturity—two things Rafe is allergic to.
In his perfect world, you would walk in the procession having left a him-sized gap, and, even then, he'd probably decide that wasn't enough. Knowing him, there would need to be an ocean between you two before Rafe was finally satisfied. And still, you know for certain he'd find something else to bitch about.
It's almost like he enjoys getting himself all worked up.
"Rafe, I'm not a pet or a toy to play tug-of-war with on the playground."
At your sudden burst of exasperation, the pacing comes to a screeching halt. And thank god for that; the repetition was starting to make you nauseous.
Just as firmly as his jaw, Rafe's fists clench at his sides.
"When did I say that you were?" he spews his venom at you, but his fervid attention remains fixed on the cracked pavement baking in the late afternoon rays. Rafe kicks a pebble into the side of a parked car, then continues, "—because I don't recall saying that. And you know how I feel about words being put into my mouth."
"No," you all but growl. "—but that's what you meant."
Your teeth ache from grinding them together. A migraine is forming at either temple, but you're already too exhausted by this conversation to massage it away before it takes root. You have your hands full with one headache right now, there's no room for another on your plate. But, like the eldest Cameron's emotional maelstrom, landfall is inevitable.
Rafe glares at you, but doesn't say anything to the contrary.
This begrudged acquiescence is the closest you ever come to Rafe admitting that you were right about something.
Or apologizing.
"Well, whatever you are, you're still mine. Something he doesn't respect and you seem to have forgotten—and I think we're overdue for a little reminder, sweetness."
He reaches for you, and you halfheartedly bat his hands away.
"Rafe, can we just... can we please do this some other time? I have to get back to—"
"—to your side piece from The Cut?"
"—to Sarah. Your sister. Y'know, the one who's getting married this weekend?" You cross your arms over your chest. Rafe rolls his eyes, clearly irritated you decided to cock-block his ogling. "—in case that bit of information got lost in your ego."
"Wow, you're really antsy to get back in there." His eyebrows jump, somehow unfettered by his audacity. The supplemental away from me is omitted, but deafening. "There's no need to be so defensive—if you have nothing to feel guilty for, that is."
You don't dignify his badgering with a response.
His tongue punches his cheek, and he looks away, as if depriving you of eye contact is a punishment in and of itself.
Rafe is trying to bait you into an actual fight so that he can exercise his big, bottled-up emotions without having to acknowledge their existence or their cause. There's too much left to do before the ceremony; you don't have time to spare for something as juvenile and pointless as feeding into his emotional scapegoat.
"If you're spreading 'em for Maybank, at least give me a head's up so I can get tested. It's common courtesy, sweetness."
Cold and debilitating, like a scorpion's venom, his accusation is devoid of the familiarity you've grown fond of. Under Rafe's prickly carapace of indifference, he is spiteful and chronically insecure.
This is what happens when you don't purge yourself of whatever is bothering you. Pent up, the negativity builds and builds day in and day out. The knot gets bigger, stronger, and harder to ignore the longer it's left undealt with. The conflict between inner turmoil and externalized chaos, often projected onto an underserving substitute, is harsh and bitter, persisting until there's nothing left to leverage. Denial is a dreadful opponent and an impenetrable armor.
You are the frog today, and you are more often than not. Perhaps there was a time when turns were frequently taken, but you can't remember.
In shooting to sting, he'll kill himself just the same. Yet, despite the assured detriment to your livelihood, you put your faith in rational deterrence and permit the arachnid to crawl onto your back.
A sense of duty is easily preyed upon, and a desire for benevolence can leave you blind to the true nature of things. Instinct, natural or nurtured, doesn't have to be a death sentence. Nor is it a prescription for life. Villainy, like goodness, is a choice.
The frog may not be able to sting or fight, but it can leap.
"Would you just shut up?"
You bring his mouth to yours before any more garbage can spill out.
He's keyed up on jealousy and, most likely, something else. Rafe's intent on pushing you away with tired cheap shots in a fit of anger. You've known him long enough to know that, in the absence of control, he does and says the exact opposite of what he feels.
He refuses to be vulnerable in any healthy way, instead preferring to throw double-edged rocks at your window from behind a wilting bush.
Words are incompatible with Rafe's trauma-soaked mind. He'll hear whatever it is you have to say—Hell, he might even believe it for a few minutes—but a life of too many broken promises and poorly disguised lies depreciated their value.
Action—that's what Rafe can grasp. For something to click and stick, it must be tangible. You kissed him to express your loyalty in the only way he understands.
And to make him shut up. Definitely that, too.
"I should've ignored Sarah when she said a spray bottle was a bad idea."
Your eyes are slow to open, but you jump away from Rafe anyway. As if you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, or like you betrayed some great conspiracy. Like he burned you.
It may not have a label, but your charged relationship with the Cameron heir is an open secret on Kiladare. Still, you're not too keen on public displays of affection—if anything you subject each other to could even be considered gentle or loving.
Intimate, sure. An attachment, definitely. The jury's still out on the health of such a volatile symbiosis, but such an entanglement is a bitch to bury.
You've tried.
Rafe's jaw clenches, annoyed by the irksome interruption now more than any slight you've perpetrated. "Wheezie, can't you see we're in the middle of something?"
"Something I saw a little too much of," she retorts with an exaggerated gag.
You bite down on your cheeks to keep your laughter at bay. You're in no mood to poke the bear further than he's already stabbed himself.
"Run along, the adults are talking."
Again, Rafe reaches for you. This time, you step out of bounds.
She means well, but the youngest Cameron has a big mouth and a propensity for gossip. She's also a compulsive eavesdropper. Wheezie might butt in and stir the pot far less now than she did a few years ago, but when it comes to Rafe, all bets are off. They may be each other's preferred sibling, bonded by their inability to best Sarah in the rat race for their father's attention and approval, but in their household, it's everyone for themselves.
And she's had her eye on the special edition Animal Crossing Switch console for weeks; she'll throw you both under the bus without a thought. Especially, if it means not waiting 'till Christmas to have it in her tween-age hands.
You throw her a bone, and yourself a lifeline. "What's up, Wheeze?"
She gives her brother a final glare, then turns to face you fully. Her features are twisted with exasperation, an understandable feeling considering who her siblings are and the family she's had the misfortune of being born into.
"Sarah wants to practice the rings. Again. So, hurry up and finish sucking face, adults. We have more important things to do."
Wheezie stomps off before either you or Rafe can get a word in. For her, the conversation ran its course. No need to stick around.
"Can I ask something stupid?" Rafe asks once his sister is out of earshot.
His voice is a bit wobbly, and while you know he'll make you regret it later, but you just can't help yourself: "Don't you always?"
Rafe clears his throat, then rubs his jaw like it might grant him the right words.
"We only... y'know with each other, right? I-I mean, I just figured since you're stuck to me like fucking velcro you're in the same boat. I mean—talk about stage five clinger. And, don't get me wrong, I would've unstuck you, but this," Rafe gestures to what little space remains between you. "—is way more convenient than all the hoops and shit of getting with someone else."
You know what he's actually asking—you've been fluent in "Rafe" since the fourth grade. Just one of the many, many joys of your fathers' life-long bromance.
He wants you to spill your guts before he does. He wants certainty; a safety net of prior knowledge.
—Rafe wants power.
"Totally," you drawl, humoring him with half the effort you normally would. Rafe squirms under your knowing gaze. "All for convenience, babe."
"Are you mocking me?" 
"Don't I always?" you counter through a smirk that makes Rafe feel as though he's staring into a splintered funhouse mirror.
Rafe watches you slip back into the chapel, wishing that he said more... wishing he'd said less. He follows your figure down the hallway until the metal door shuts with a rancorous thud.
When he shuts his eyes—a lukewarm attempt to calm his racing heart in the relentless summer sun—all Rafe can think about is your parting wink.
And the God-awful churn of emotion it triggered.
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songsofadelaide · 7 days
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You and your husband were hardly sleeping together lately. You couldn't blame him. He was busy beyond words and he had a duty to the realm. He was king, after all.
When Marcille heard you were having trouble sleeping, she personally made you some dream balm, which was really just a concoction of beeswax, fragrant lavender, chamomile, bergamot, and some crimson herb you couldn't identify because the heavens forbid the queen not get enough rest— and more stuff you didn't hear because of how off you've been feeling from the lack of sleep.
So when the evening rolled by with her dusk-coloured skirts across the sky, you decided to turn in for the night and made use of the aromatic balm Marcille concocted especially for you. You rubbed the sweet yet waxy substance on your temples, behind your ears, and a little bit on your wrists and other pulse points and called it a day.
But your sleepiness was chased out of your body because you were hearing things.
Your shared bedchamber with the king was dimly lit and there was no one else there but you.
You could hear the thoughts and desires from your bed frame. Your... your pillow? And not just your thoughts, but Laios', too.
"Kiss me, please—"
"—Let me hold you..."
"You're so beautiful..."
You could hear his thoughts in his voice in your head— his voice so calm and patient and perhaps a bit tired-sounding— as though he was simply whispering them to you. His thoughts were so embarrassingly loud that it did not help your case of sleeplessness at all.
"Don't look away from me... I want to see your face."
The balm was warm behind your ears and on your pulse and it made you cry a little bit because by the gods, you missed your husband and his voice in your head and your half-empty bed were nothing but torment for you. You held his pillow in your arms and ducked under the covers to hide from... from your own embarrassment. If you weren't going to get any sleep, you may as well tire yourself out instead.
Laios was always incredibly honest with himself. He was never one to shy away from things. He would tell you he wants you— he desires you— without missing a beat. And so his voice in your head with his somewhat disrespectful tone, telling you to take all of him, made your imagination work overtime.
"Are you asleep already? I apologise for not being able to spend that much time with you lately..."
Oh, his voice was apologetic this time. Nothing like the seductive phrases you've been hearing for the last half hour or so.
"Ah, Laios..."
It was only when you felt the bed shift and the covers lifted up that you realised it was him for real this time.
"I—" You stammered at him, your face warm and hands even warmer underneath your night garments.
"W—" Laios was about to ask you something, but he hardly got a word in when you grabbed your shared blanket and cocooned yourself in complete shock. "Hey, there's no need to hide from me..."
He coaxed you out of the covers and into his arms and tenderly kissed away the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.
"My lord husband, I—"
He chuckled at how cold his title sounded as it escaped your lips. "Didn't I hear you call me by my name just moments ago?"
"I-It's embarrassing enough that you caught me in such a state!"
"Well, you don't have to be in that kind of state if you would just call for me," he said as he rubbed circles on the back of your dominant hand. "I have my duties to this kingdom, but I also have my duties to you, my queen, my wife... Just tell Marcille and Kabru that you need me. I'll come running no matter where I am or what I'm doing."
"Oh, right. Marcille gave me this weird balm. She said it was supposed to be a sleep remedy but it got me all hot and bothered instead because I was hearing you all over the place..."
You handed the canister of balm to your husband, who twisted it open and gave it a little whiff. "Lavender, chamomile, bergamot... and some saffron, if I'm right. No wonder you're burning up."
"Why?"
"Saffron is a, uh..." It was his turn to be embarrassed this time. "Well, Senshi and Chilchuck once told me to steer clear of certain plants because of their... certain strange properties. Saffron is one of them. They're kind of like an aphrodisiac, after all."
"A... what?"
"Let's just say it's a spice," he said in conclusion, slowly drawing you into a kiss. "Now, do you want to pick up where you left off? Only I'm here now, so..."
On the other side of the castle was the advisor to the king and the kingdom's head mage in complete panic at how she accidentally switched turmeric for saffron for the queen's dream balm.
Kabru simply laughed off her rookie mistake. "You did them a favour, Marcille. Trust me when I say the king's going to thank you first thing in the morning."
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✦ A little something again for us Laios lovers. Can be considered a spiritual sequel to Means Something.
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d-dixonimagines · 19 days
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PROMPT REQUEST from this list from @daryls-wife
A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to get this posted! I honestly have no idea what my plan was for this one, the direction changed every time I started over! But nevertheless, I hope you still like it! Warnings: mild language, a lot of typos probably
PROMP 17: "You're bleeding--how long have you been hiding this?"
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A lot had happened the past few days while you and Daryl were out doing an exchange with The Kingdom; giving weapons in exchange for some crates of fruits and vegetables. It was a never ending run-in with walkers, a couple encounters with lone individuals who were desperate enough to try and steal some of the food you were bringing back.
For as short of a trip this was supposed to be you were completely exhausted. Eventually you convinced Daryl to stop for the night, though he didn't fully understand why you felt you needed to when you were so close to home. It was only a few more hours, but you were desperate as well.
Finding a run down convenience store, you cleared the area for walkers and tried to make yourselves comfortable. Daryl found a spot on the floor by the window, adjusting his position against the hard tile. "I don't think we'll be gettin' much sleep, my ass is already goin' numb," he grumbled as he moved once more before finally settling.
"I'm sorry," you smiled a little in response. "I just needed a break. We can keep going and make it back before it gets too late, but I really just need to rest for a while." You settled next to him, moving slowly and wincing slightly when your side brushed against one of the crates.
"Nah, we'll be ok. Looks like we might get some rain anyway." You nodded in agreement. Daryl watched you for a moment. "You doin' ok, though?" he asked gently, noticing how you sat down. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just sore, and my feet are killing me. It's probably time to be on the lookout for different shoes."
He gave a nod, not really responding. The rest of the evening went on pretty much like that. Small talk here and there. Daryl took watch first and let you sleep before switching a few hours later. You got going again just before the sun came up, arriving back at Alexandria as people were starting their day.
After getting the crates dropped off where they needed to be, you and Daryl headed back to your shared abode and planned on relaxing a bit before tending to whatever else needed to be done. "I'm gonna take a long shower, if anyone needs to find me." Daryl nodded, his eyes catching glimpse of your side and a wet sticky substance that was seeping through the fabric of your shirt.
He caught your arm to stop you. "You're bleedin'... how long have you been hidin' this?" You turned your body slightly so his hand would drop. "It's nothing, just a scrape from a scuffle we had with a walker." "On which day?" His gaze was direct, probably already guessing when it had happened. You hesitated a second before answering.
"When we were at the tracks.." "That was three days ago." "Yeah, so? I told you, it's nothing." There was another silence. You knew it was more serious than you were trying to let on, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You just needed to clean it and bandage it up and you'd be good as new.
"Can I see it, then?" You gave a defeated sigh and peeled the shirt back so he could take a look. "I was going to go to the infirmary after my shower," you defended. "Why didn't'cha just say somethin'?" "I didn't want to turn it into a bigger deal than it was. We were close enough to here that I knew you would have probably made me turn back, and I didn't want to leave."
"Comin' back wouldn't've been a big deal. Waitin' three days and practically bein' forced to acknowledge is what's doin' that, let alone the risk you put yerself in for infection. So now it is a big fuckin' deal." You dropped your hands and took a step back, wanting to just walk away from the conversation. You knew he was coming from a place of protection and concern, but you didn't have the patience or the energy to be scolded at.
"I have it under control, Daryl. I can take care of myself." You turned and headed for the bathroom, Daryl following close behind. "I know ya can, just wish you'd be more open about stuff like this. If you're hurt, you should be able to tell me.." "Oh, because you're so open with me? Mr. guy who leaves for weeks at a time without saying a single word about it? Open like that?" "That's different and you know that."
You shook your head. "It's really not. Your reasons might be different, but the concept is still the same." You walked over to the tub and sat down on the edge, feeling sick and drained, and you didn't know if it was because you were tired and hungry or if it was because of the aching, oozing wound on your side. All bets were probably on the latter.
"...I don't feel so hot.." you placed your hand on your forehead. "I mean, I do feel hot, but still..." "A fever's probably settin' in. We should get to the infirmary." Daryl helped you up, with zero protests from you, and let you to the doctor. At some point you must have passed out because the next thing you remember was waking up in a bright room and Daryl right next to you.
"Mornin', sunshine," he smirked slightly. "What happened?" "Ya passed out on the way here from dehydration and an infection startin' to set in. The doc got ya fixed up, though, so you'll be okay."
You nodded, processing the information. You hadn't realized how bad it had gotten. There was a silence that fell between you, and you could tell that he wanted to say more.
"If you want to say 'I told you so', go ahead and do it," you chuckled slightly. "I can see that you want to." He shook his head. "That's not what I wanna say, I'm not gonna rub anythin' in, I just.. I hated seein' you like that. Ya can't mess with infections." His tone was soft. "I know... I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm also really sorry about picking that fight with you earlier. I didn't intend for anything to go that far."
"That was just the fever talkin', yer good. I'll make a deal with ya, though.." "Oh, yeah? What deal is that?" "I'll open up more about stuff if you will. Doesn't hav'ta be everythin', just if you're hurt or going somewhere. We just check in with each other. That sound fair?"
You let out a quiet sigh and paused a moment before agreeing, hoping he wasn't making that deal because he felt like he had to. Him leaving didn't have to be anybody else's business, it was just disappointing when you couldn't find him and found out from someone else that he left.
You weren't complaining about the deal itself, though. You were relieved that he was going to start saying something, but you hoped he was doing that because he wanted to and not just because he thought that was the only way to get you to open up. "That sounds like a fair deal." You gave a smile regardless, accepting it all for what it was.
"Alright then.." he gave a satisfied nod. "I got us some food. I figured you'd probably be hungry when you woke up." "Yes, please, I'm starving!" Your eyes brightened as he handed you a plate of food, some eggs and fruit from the crates you brought back. As bad as things got, you were relieved that it wasn't any worse, and you felt pretty lucky to have Daryl by your side through all of it.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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hi angel!! since you said you wanted top gun requests, i thought i would request snuggling at a bonfire with hangman ? maybe like the rest of their friends are there and hangman and reader are just being sweet? lmk if that's too specific or not specific enough!
"There's sand on your dress, darlin'." Jake uses the rare moment of silence that you're granted when he ducks his head down, using it as a shield from the rest of the conversation around the bonfire as he murmurs against your ear.
"There's sand everywhere," You shrug, brushing the grains off of your sundress. Your legs have started sprouting goosebumps in the night air, and while you wouldn't call it cold, that's what it is for California. The ocean only a few feet away doesn't help, and you admit to yourself that there might be a slight chill in the air that you're unprepared for. Jake offers you a bite of the s'more that he's made, but you try to decline as politely as possible.
"No thanks, babe. I don't like mine with hotdogs in them."
Jake had gone a little overzealous in the creation of his s'more. Fanboy had challenged him to a s'more stacking contest, and though Jake's had one by size alone, you're not sure what came out of it could legally be called a s'more.
There's not one, not two, but three sizeable chunks of hotdog sandwiched between the layers, and Jake genuinely doesn't seem to mind at all that the salty flavors mix with the overly sweet. He has an iron stomach, but you're a little more fragile, so you decline his kind offer.
"Want me to make you one? A normal one," Jake clarifies, reaching over your thighs to grab the skewer you've stuck in the sand. His hand rains grainy filth down onto your skirt but you brush it away just like you had earlier, and you shake your head before he can sprinkle sand into the marshmallow bag.
"I'm okay, babe. I'm sleepy," You admit, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Can we go home soon?"
"Yeah." He grunts, already trying to maneuver in the sand, his free hand pressing into the stuff and sinking, "We can-"
"Not now," You corral him once more, setting a hand on his arm and coaxing him to drop back down onto the sand, "I wanna hear Rooster finish his story. Payback interrupted him, he'll be done soon."
You're fairly certain you hear Jake mumble something about how any story Rooster's telling is chicken shit, but you don't bother asking. Instead you stroke your hand down his arm, reaffixing your head to his shoulder.
"Love you," You hum softly, barely heard over the crackling fire and the whoosh of the night wind by the ocean. Jake hears you loud and clear, though, he feels the words in his soul as he leans down to kiss at your temple.
"Love you too, darlin'."
You can't resist the urge' you lean up to kiss him. It's a risky move, because one of his hands is coated in sand, and the other one has both hotdogs and chocolate in it, but it's a risk you're willing to take.
It doesn't play out how you want it to. Jake seems to forget about the hand that he'd plunged into the sand, lifting it to hold your waist, and scooping a portion of the grainy substance over your lap.
He realizes what he's done nanoseconds too late, breaking the kiss you'd only just begun to share and groaning as he buries his face into the crown of your head.
"Jake-" You admonish, but there's no way malice could ever seep into your tone; not with him.
"There's sand on your dress, darlin'." He echoes his previous statement, far more sheepishly this time, "I don't suppose a bite of the hotdog s'more would make up for it?"
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Text
"Get my cake, and eat it, too."
✨️It's a requested Dazai smut✨️
✧—Incl. Dazai smut, Dazai × reader, kitchen sex, dirty talk, fingering, not established relationship, ADA Dazai,uses of the word "mama", "Mommy", and "Daddy".
ღ—Note from the author. Yeah, I'm ᴬⁿⁿⁱᵉ the anime smut writer. First time writing for Dazai, so I hope u like this, ya little weirdos and weebs.
You and Dazai have known each other for a long time. Before the Port Mafia, worked with each other in the middle of it, and now are partners in the Armed Detective Agency.
It sounds like you'd be best friends, right? Well, yeah, pretty much. But it's hard to be friends with Dazai. He's always clinging to your waist, hugging you always flirting, staying at your house, sitting on your lap at work. He's a man-child, really.
Today is no different.
"Why don't we sneak away to your apartment, mamas?" He whispers into your ear, hugging you from behind. The other detectives don't even bat an eye anymore from how commonly this happens.
"Y'know, why the fuck not. I have nothing to do today anyway." You say with a shrug.
And that's where you two are, upstairs and in the kitchen of your apartment. You facing the refrigerator and him leaning against the counter behind you.
"You hungry—"
"Yes."
He immediately cuts you off when you ask, staring at the small gap between your thighs with eyes half-lidded. You look over your shoulder to see him now sitting on the counter, still staring.
"Jeez, okay... You wanna eat som—"
"Yes."
He fully cuts you off this time, hopping off the counter and softly touching your hips, touch feather light as he glides his fingers down your waist and to your thighs, gently squeezing the inner part of them.
"You think I could eat some of you? I'm really hungry for some reason..." He whispers into your ear, leaving gentle bites and licks along your neck.
"You promised this wouldn't happen, Osamu..." You say with a sigh but lean into his touch nonetheless. He smirks into your skin when you call him his first name, hands gently pulling your shorts and panties down at the same time.
"Come on, mama... You look too pretty not to eat... Just, let me have a snack?" He giggles, finger softly tracing your clit while the other one moves up and back to your waist.
"O-Osamu... You—" A soft moan cuts you off when he slides one finger into your tight little hole, digits pressing against the perfect spots to make you whimper.
"O-Osamu~ Fuck... Faster, p-please..." You whine, and you have him pressing his hard-on against your ass. "Yes, ma'am. "
He starts to go a bit faster, adding another finger while he lets go of your hip and starts to take off his pants, kissing your neck while you shiver and moan.
"D-d— FUCK— D-Dazai~♡…! Please..."
"Please what?" He asks, finally getting his pants and boxers off. He softly takes out his finger which you complain about, but you quickly stop when he replaces it with his cock.
"GAH- D-D-DADDY, FUCK~!!!" You scream out a moan, eyes rolling back into your head as you grab the kitchen island for support.
"Hmm~ Mommy, you're taking m-me so well..." He grunts into the back of your neck, sliding his hands up your shirt and holding your waist tightly.
You arch your back even more and he swears under his breath, sweat forming and sticking his hair to his forehead. He roughly slaps your ass to see the flesh move beneath him, and you scream out another breathy moan of pleasure.
"D-daddy... T-too GOOD— Please~♡ More..." Tears start to roll down your cheek from sheer pleasure, legs shaking as a bit of drool slips from your mouth.
"More, huh, pretty mama..." He grunts, rolling his hips faster and faster with each passing second. He lets out a small moan before he gives up on fighting it back and screams out just as loud as you.
"Dazai~…! I-I'm c-c—" You stutter out, but it was too late. A load of his and your cum shoots out, his long and hot ropes filling you to the brim while yours coats his dick in a shiny, milky substance.
"Awe... You could've had that in your mouth, mommy..." He whines, pouting like the man-child he is.
"Yeah? Well, you didn't fucking eat me. Just shoved your dick inside me."
"You're complaining?"
"Yes."
"Then I guess I'll just have to honor my word and eat out out."
"Wai—" "Too late."
(... Rampo heard everything from downstairs, rip.)
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neoplatinum · 1 month
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keep it up - chase atlantic | ning 'ningning' yizhou
summary: i care for you, like you care for me
pairing: gf!ningning x reader
themes: fluff, angst, implied substance abuse, professional help, rest of aespa!
wc: 1.0k
pt2 of: VTMNTSCOAT - destroy lonely
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you can hear the sound of yizhou learning how to play different riffs on her guitar. it's endearing and warm how hard she's trying to nail this one piece to play it for you.
you think that yizhou would make such a hot rockstar girlfriend, not that you would say it to her face. it would probably inflate her ego too much.
"baby! come eat lunch." yizhou's too into her playing, barely processing that you've said something to her. so you tap her shoulder and her head whips up to look at you. she smiles and takes the guitar off of herself, setting it on the stand.
you both walk to the kitchen, you grab both bowls and place them on the table, as yizhou grabs utensils. and when she sits downs she smiles at you.
"i think i'm going to be able to finish that song by tomorrow." she speaks with pride. you're proud of her, for trying so hard to play the guitar. you grab her hand, squeezing it for encouragement.
yizhou smiles and digs into her bowl of noodles, happily slurping it. you watch and adore how cute she looks, eyes intently watching her noodles, a frustrated expression when the noodles slip through her chopsticks.
--
you think about that night all those months ago, at aeri's party. how heartbroken you both were, feeling a tear in your relationship, wanting so badly to mend it with your own hands. so you tried, getting yizhou professional help. yizhou's been seeing a specialist, getting help with her dependency on drugs. understanding why her mood swings are so dire.
you try and sit in with her most sessions, sometimes yizhou would rather you just sit outside in the waiting room. when you sit outside of the room, you wonder if she'll ever confide in you with what she isn't willing to share. most of all you are just proud she takes each session in stride even if she doesn't want to attend.
it's been a lot of up and downs with her mood swings, but at the end of the day she always tells you how much she loves you. she thanks you for sticking by her. some days she throws things around when she's unstable, when her mood is so off that she can't contain the emotions she's feeling.
other days she completely shuts you out, staying in her room for hours on end with no sound. you get worried at times that she'll completely shut you out but it never lasts for longer than a day.
usually she'll crawl into your room when its so late you're already asleep and cuddle into your side. there have been a few times you wake up when she does it, other times you sleep through the night and wake up with yizhou next to you, probably playing with your hair.
it doesn't matter if she shuts you out or is attached to your hip the whole day, you will always be there as a space for her when she needs it.
you like to take long walks on days where yizhou is out. long walks to really think about your own wellbeing, how being with yizhou impacts you. how her actions can fill you up or let you down.
you talk to yizhou about it sometimes and she listens to you. letting you have the space to speak about your own struggles. you talk about how hurt you were that night when you caught her dancing up on some guy, but thinking it was you the whole time.
you cry into her shoulder as she cries into you. she still loves you, the same way she was when you two started dating. she tries to be more present with you, asking how you are doing as well. taking the time to care for you and pamper you as well.
--
aeri, minjeong, and jimin also visit often, getting little gifts for yizhou that always makes her smile. minjeong sometimes comes over with her guitar and everyone sits to watch them play songs together. you feel a deep warmth in your chest when they smile at each other while they're playing. you're eternally grateful for these girls, that they take the time to care for yizhou just as much as you do.
you talk about it with aeri, minjeong and jimin one day, how much you appreciate them. they all cry at the sight of you breaking down, comforting you when you explain how hard all this has been on you.
--
you've decided to take yizhou to a festival, letting her enjoy her favorite artists. the whole time you've spent enjoying the vibe of the festival and swaying with yizhou while you hug her.
she's lovely at singing, you discover through the festival. that night when you drive home you request that she sings more often. she gets bashful at the comments, but sings to you nonetheless. you think you can hear the sound of love through her voice, it brings you to tears.
some nights when you two are too tired to go out for dates, you enjoy drawing with yizhou, letting her creativity run free. she draws these beautifully intricate pieces depicting her thoughts and feelings about herself, or how frustrated she is with the world. you always take the time to listen to her explain each piece, so she awards you with a kiss after each one.
you can feel yizhou getting better over time, how she's more confident in expressing how she feels to you. there's less of a hesitation to explain to you how she's struggling or even to the other three girls.
yizhou's even convinced you to pick up the drums to accompany her playing, she claims you look extra hot with sweaty hair on your face and especially when you look so into it. you laugh at that because it honestly feels like you look like you're drenched in the rain.
she kisses you senseless when you say that, and she comments. "i can't wait to marry you one day. i hope our kids have your perseverance."
you blush at the compliment, thinking about marrying yizhou one day, and honestly yeah, you think you'll have to do it soon.
--
a/n: this was requested by the lovely @torri77, hope it's enjoyable! friendly reminder that addiction is a very real situation, and this is fiction. as always, stay safe and stay healthy, everyone!
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daddy-dotcom · 10 months
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Twice Baked
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Summary: Two batches of brownies were made: one with laced with "maryjane," and one without. Unfortunately, the wrong ones end up in the hands (and mouths) of the BAU. Requested by my lovely mutual @swaggysagiewagie <3
Words: 1,050
Rating/Warnings: M- Drugs (marijuana), canon typical mentions of violence, fluff :)
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I don’t normally make it a habit of putting illegal substances in my baked goods. I actually don’t make it a habit of using illegal substances at all, given the FBI’s random drug screenings. But when my college roommate called me in a panic at 11 pm because she had already burnt 3 batches of her attempted “special” brownies, I knew I had no choice but to help her. It was her boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow and he specifically requested the dessert, so we spent the entire night baking our asses off. While I was busy baking the weed brownies, I thought it might be nice to bake some regular ones to take to work. I was extremely careful not to mix them up. I even marked the pan without the weed brownies with a red sharpie so that I wouldn’t mix them up in the morning. But after such a late night, I was in such a hurry the next morning that I hadn’t even noticed that the only pan left in the kitchen was a batch of pot brownies. And of course, I grabbed the pan without a second thought, and dropped them off in the break room, unaware of what was to come of my little mix up.
As the team trickled in and out of the break room to get their morning coffees, they each helped themselves to a brownie under the impression that it was just another one of my delicious baked treats. It wasn’t until Penelope called us all in to the meeting room for a debrief that I noticed something was off.
“LETS GET STARTED BECAUSE WE HAVE A LOT TO COVER PEOPLE” Penelope said in a much louder voice and with a much quicker pace than usual.
“Ourfirstvictimisa32yearoldpoliceofficerandwasfoundstrangledinhercar,aaaaaandoursecondvictimwas40yearsoldandalsoapoliceofficerandOH MY GOD WE’RE NEXT” she said.
That was odd, even for Penelope.
Just then, I could hear Spencer in the seat next to me trying to stifle his giggles.
“we’re gonna die,” he said, as if that was the funniest thing in the world. “I’ve died before it is not fun,” he said between laughs.
Oh no....
It hit me just then that Penelope and Spencer's behavior was no accident, this was a result of my delicious handiwork. I can't believe I actually mixed them up.
Of course I mixed them up.
I was up so late and as luck would have it, I brought the goddamn weed brownies into Quantico.
"Calm down mama, nobody's dying alright," Morgan said. I could tell he had some brownies too because he was talking incredibly slow and he was leaned all the way back in his chair.
"Morgan's right everybody just be cooooool." I'm guessing Prentiss also had some, but she was so relaxed that it seemed like this wasn't the first time she and Morgan have been high.
"JJ you alright?" Morgan asked. She had her head down on the desk and seemed like she was sound asleep.
"OHMYGOD SHE'S DEAD TOO" Garcia yelled.
"Shhhhh it's okay babygirl," Morgan cooed as he wrapped Garcia in an embrace.
"Oh god," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose in both embarrassment and defeat.
"What's going on?" Hotch asked, standing in the doorway and staring in confusion.
"Nothing boss man just hanging around" said Emily.
I knew I had to come clean to Hotch about the brownies. "Sir, I can explain" I said, feeling more embarrassed than ever. "I helped a friend make some brownies that were laced with...a certain substance, and I decided to make a regular batch for the team, but in my haste this morning I must've mixed them up."
“Yes! The brownies! You made them (Y/N)!?” Spencer asked bewildered, “that must be why they were soooo gooood.”
I could feel his hand moving to touch the exposed skin under my skirt, and while I should have immediately swatted his hand away, I let him linger for just a moment.
“Spencer, you’re high, you all need to chill out before we can get back to work” I said as I gently brushed his hand away.
“Can I give you a kiss?” he asked with a pout, completely ignoring what I had just said
“No!I mean….yes. Maybe? But not right now!”
"No one is going to do any work until they are no longer high. I can brief them on the plane once they sober up. As for you, (Y/N), I'd like to speak with you in my office."
Oh no, this was it, I was most likely going to get fired.
"(Y/N), I'll make this brief. I realize this was most likely a mistake on your part. That said, you still drugged our team members with a substance that is illegal in several states. However, given that it's technically legal in ours, I am only going temporarily suspend you from work for the duration of the case."
"I wanted to apologize again sir, I never wanted to cause anyone harm or distract them from work."
"I know (Y/N), just be grateful I'm not reporting any of you or requiring you all to get drug tested."
I nodded profusely and walked out of Hotch's office before he could change his mind. As I rounded the corner, I bumped right into Spencer's chest. He couldn't help but giggle some more as we collided.
"Sorry Spence, not just about bumping into you but also the whole weed brownie thing."
"It's okay (Y/N)," he said as his giggles subsided,"I reeaaaalllyyyy liked those brownies."
Seeing Spencer in this state, I couldn't help but laugh too. "I'll make you some normal ones sometime, Spencie," I said, playfully punching him in the arm.
".....soooo can I still give you that kiss?" he said, gently brushing my arm. He slowly leaned in with his eyes closed, but I couldn't help but smile as I put my index finger to his lips.
"Hotch kinda 'grounded' me at the moment, but I'll let you give me as many kisses as you want when you get back," I said with a wink.
I may have risked losing my job in the process, but I'd bake weed brownies all over again if I knew that it would cause my work crush to finally make a move.
______________________________________
AN: Thank you for all the love on Bang My Line. It really motivated me to write more so here’s my second criminal minds 1shot. Get added to the tag list for my next fic The Visit. Hope y’all enjoy <3
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zh-lele · 1 year
Text
Playing Games
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You didn't yet see my worth, so you try to play me. But I was so in love that I just got a little bit too complicated.
▪︎ Summary: A chaotic New Year's party makes you rethink the kind of relationship you've been having with Donghyuck for the past few months. He is a player, but you love the game.
▪︎ Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x female reader
▪︎ Genres: friends with benefits, smut, angst
▪︎ Word count: 7.4k (I'm so sorry.)
▪︎ Warnings: explicit sexual content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; profanity; substance consumption; toxic behavior. (Please let me know if I missed something.)
Listen to the playlist here. | Click to see Hyuck's moodboard.
Author's note: This is my secret santa gift for @neochan as part of the event hosted by @neowritingsnet . Hey Sam, I was your secret santa! Happy holidays and I hope you can enjoy the fic :) Didn't have the time to get it proof read so I'm really sorry about that.
Lolo.
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1. Forget about it, forget about him
"How are you surviving the New Year's party?"
Your question takes Rina by surprise, since you see her get a little scared when she hears your voice from behind. But, seeing that it's only you, it doesn't take long for that beautiful smile that characterizes her to reappear.
"It's going really well, I think." She answers by returning her gaze to the front, where your group of friends is preparing for the main event of the night.
It's exactly two minutes to midnight. You know this not only because of the gigantic TV screen in the living room of the mansion—that has been broadcasting the countdown to the new year in different parts of the world since you arrived at the boys' house— but because you can also feel it in the air.
Aeri is helping Mia bring the glasses into the living room and set them ready for the cocktail party. Donghyuck is arguing with Jaemin because he's not helping Jisung with the Champagne bottles he's too scared to open. Chenle's laughter can be heard from the kitchen followed by some groans, and Mark telling him "it's not funny at all". You only find out what the mess is about when Jeno comes and lights up the room with his eye smile, telling the guys that Mark splashed his own eyes cutting the lime for the margaritas, and now he can't see anything.
You and Renjun share a cigarette on the balcony, now with Rina on your side.
"You know things are about to get weird, right?" Renjun asks the girl.
"Yeah, the other girls warned me you have this tradition going on," she starts. "No one leaves without a kiss from your New Year's parties." And her face flushes red as he finishes the sentence with his eyes locked on Donghyuck, who is finally pouring the champagne into the glasses with a smirk, looking as handsome as ever.
The action doesn't go unnoticed by you or Renjun, so you decide to push the new girl a little more. "You've got someone in mind?"
"Well…" She laughs, and without taking her eyes off him, she drops it: "I might go for Donghyuck."
The clock strikes midnight and the cheers are heard, both inside the mansion and outside in the street. As you approach inside to celebrate and drink the champagne together with your friends, you are surprised and intercepted by your friend Aeri, who plants a quick New Year's kiss on your lips before throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms and doing the same with him. You just laugh it off and empty the drink in your glass to set your eyes on a different pair meters away from you.
Rina had been the newest addition to the group, and obviously, before inviting her to the mansion and one of the chaotic New Year's Eve parties, someone had to warn her how things were. It was only fair that Rina was aware of an agreement made years ago between you and your friends: everyone gets at least one midnight kiss during the new year celebration. She was told just enough to try to survive the night.
The mansion is the boys' rented house and private studio. All of them have been making good amounts of money in the music industry lately, gaining popularity really fast, and it's a privilege that she isn't paying anymore to enter a party in the mansion.
It wasn't her fault that no one told her that something has been going on between you and Donghyuck for months, and that you were hoping that he wouldn't kiss anyone but you that night. When you didn't tell Rina anything as soon as she said she wanted to go for him, you were only waiting to test Donghyuck.
Because if you think about the situation, it was all his fault, honestly.
Everyone in your friend group knows Donghyuck and you have been exclusively seeing each other for months now. Your girl friends know very well he isn't afraid to fill your ears with sweet things and words of affection when you are alone. Yet, he won't show you around and would act like you're no more than friends when there's someone else.
You still don't know what his problem is, but you are growing sick and tired of crying for nights because he won't talk to you. Instead, he would have you thinking you did something wrong to upset him or that he doesn't care about you anymore, to then come and act like he didn't just ignore you for days. But you aren't going to take your anger on Rina.
You are going to do it on Donghyuck later, definitely.
Lee Donghyuck, or one of the most recognized and well paid r&b artists from this new movement of kids coming up in the industry, making some of the best music of the continent independently. But for the ones who know him privately, he’s just a kid wasting a lot of talent and potential, who's only got a big ton of pressure on his shoulders and stacks of money he doesn't know how to spend more than on parties, alcohol, and drugs.
He’s also the boy you've been chasing and trying to get with for years. And now that you have him, you can't lose him just like that.
If he kisses Rina right in front of you and everyone else when he refuses to do that with you, that's going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.
The white lights go down until it is only the colored lights hanging from the tall ceiling, and the Christmas lights taped on the wall that illuminate the room very dimly. You can appreciate some of your best friends still exchanging their midnight kisses. You can also spot Jaemin in one corner pouring out one margarita after another, and Donghyuck with Rina huddled against the wall in the other corner of the room. The millisecond he makes eye contact with you and smiles all the way from there, then returning his attention to Rina is actually what sets you on fire. Not in the way you would want to, though.
You don't need to stay there to know Donghyuck's gonna try and play you dirty. And you won't give him the satisfaction of standing there alone, watching him kiss with someone else.
You should have listened to your friends when they told you over and over again that Donghyuck is and always will be a player, not worth all your tears. You should have also heard your other side of consciousness telling you "don't do it, don't go there." But it's too late to regret it when you take the cup from Jaemin's hands and drink all of its contents, then grab the bottle of tequila and Jaemin's hand and drag him with you to the kitchen.
You know Donghyuck like the palm of your hand. You could try and play his games too.
When you set the tequila bottle on the kitchen counter and sit yourself on it to grab Jaemin by the collar and put him between your parted legs, the mischief reaches his eyes and reflects on the smirk of his mouth.
"I feel like we're not here for more margaritas," he says looking into your eyes and placing his hands on your thighs.
You give the bottle one last swallow before confirming his suspicions.
"You're right. Happy New Year."
Kissing Jaemin has always been a pleasure, in every sense of the word. His kisses are as lazy as he is, and feel as full of affection as if you were in love with each other, which makes you think about how there is no doubt why everyone falls in love with him so easily.
His lips taste like salt and lime, and explore yours sweetly until he opens his way to the inside of your mouth. There, the salty taste is replaced by a sweetness that contrasts with the rest of his movements. His hands caress your legs, look to get you closer to his body, squeezing your thighs and butt and making you approach the edge of the counter, but never completely losing that calm that characterizes him. Jaemin is the perfect definition of a tease.
"Thought we wouldn't be doing this anymore." You feel the vibrations of his vocal chords under your lips that leave his neck wet with kisses. When you don't answer him, he cups your face separating you from his skin, and makes you look him in the eyes. "Aren't you and Hyuck together?"
Well, that's a hard question. Because it seems like it depends on the situation and the mood. When Donghyuck feels like treating you like his girlfriend, you really feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He's sweet, caring, and funny. He comes to your home to share dinner with your family and spend the night, and you do the same at his. He even let you spend the entire Christmas day at the mansion—and you know that's something reserved for the couples only. You had morning sex, breakfast together, opened presents, and even cuddled while watching movies until it was dark outside.
You could say you are together only when he's feeling like giving you his attention. The rest of the time, you only try to figure out his feelings: when he will disappear for an entire day, won't talk to you for a week or will get mad if you go partying without him, but then flirt with other girls right in front of you.
Following that line of thought:
"No, we are not together." You finally tell Jaemin.
He only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before moving closer to your ear to whisper. "That's a shame, because I think this would be much hotter if you were."
It sends a shiver down your spine and settles a strange feeling in your stomach at the same time. It's kind of frustrating, the way no matter how much you want to get Donghyuck out of your head and just have a good time with other boys, you can't get yourself to do it.
Donghyuck doesn't need to know, but it's not the first time you try forgetting you're mad at him with a little help from others. And that's the thing about it: that you only ever get to try, because the guilt takes over you despite how he has neglected and hurt you, and you end up going back to him over and over.
That unsettling feeling washes over you like a bucket of cold water, so you have to separate Jaemin from your lips before apologizing and rushing out of the kitchen to find your friends.
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2. I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody
"You know what's your problem? You're always being too nice." Mia leans on the balcony railing with a joint between his lips, and stretches an open hand to you. The lighter lands on her palm and she's quickly lighting up the rolled paper, passing it to you after a couple of deep puffs.
"Well," you start exhaling the smoke. "That depends on who's saying it."
"You just need to fuck someone else, not letting remorse or sad feelings get in between. Just to know if you really wanna stop seeing Hyuck after it or not."
"But you don't understand," the lump in your throat can be noticed through your shaky voice, and the tears begin to threaten to fall from your eyes so Aeri—who has positioned herself in front of you and is covering you from the rest of the people inside the party—takes your hand and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "I've liked him for so long. I really, really only want to be with him."
"You really want to be with someone who's been making you cry for months now? I remember you having more sad than happy nights," Mia points out once again. You quickly dry your tears with your hands before they keep falling. "Even on fucking New Year's. New Year's party and you're crying over this dickhead." She says in disbelief.
"Must be some reaaally good dick if it got you this down bad."
The three of you manage to laugh at Aeri's comment, thankfully. You maintain the order of the round and pass the joint back to Aeri.
"It is," you confess, blowing out the smoke. "He really is that good."
"Does he at least make you cum?"
"Not all the time—"
"Then you have to leave him, sister." Mia interrupts. There's a smile on her face now that indicates she's just half-joking.
"But he's seriously so good!" You shake your head in frustration followed by an exasperated sigh. It's embarrassing to say it out loud, but your friends had known you for years, and they know that this talk and all the shed tears won't change a thing. "You know I'm not leaving him."
"Yeah, I know this conversation is fucking pointless." Mia's face is illuminated by the light from her cell phone when she takes it out ready to play one of her latest obsessions. Cats Café, a new game that locks her up in your bathroom for hours, playing seated on your toilet and leaving you and Aeri hanging out in the living room of your house, just the two of you during girls' nights. "Just please, try to keep in mind how bad you've had it the last few days the next time he tries to sugarcoat you with his words."
"You wouldn't be having such a bad time if you were going out with me, instead of him."
"Aeri, you literally have a boyfriend." You tell her with a roll of your eyes. 
"And you literally took my midnight kiss in front of him, with no complains," she replies to you. "And Mark told me he wouldn't care if I ever wanna try something with a girl!"
"Wait," you observe Mia pause his game and look up at your other friend with furrowed eyebrows. "You mean as in a threesome?"
"Who's having a threesome?" Donghyuck asks throwing his arm around Aeri's shoulders, and taking the drink out of her hands to empty it down his throat.
"The three of us," she answers looking at Donghyuck with a smile, and doing a circular motion with her hand pointing at you, Mia, and herself.
His eyes open up in astonishment when you laugh hearing Aeri's words, but an amused smile takes over his face at the same time. "That's extremely unfair, don't you think?"
"Want me to film it for you? So you don’t miss out." You ask him in return.
"I'd rather film you and me, alone." He says in a teasing tone.
"Okaaaaaay," Mia gets up from her place to shove her phone down her jean pockets and starts walking back inside. "Can't a girl play Cats Café in peace without having to listen to you being some horny motherfuckers all the time?!"
"Go get fucked, Mia." Donghyuck tells your friend and you get to punch him in the arm when he comes to stand to your left, which gets him laughing and complaining.
Mia only points her middle finger at him and yells something like “I'll ask your brother.” Next thing you know, Mark has joined Aeri on the balcony after communicating that Mia and Jeno have, in fact, taken over his room to do God knows what, and you are lighting up the second joint of the night with Donghyuck standing very close to your side. 
The four of you smoke in silence until there are only a few puffs left before it goes out. When the stub comes back to you, you light it again sure you'll be the one to finish it off.
Donghyuck watches you exhale the smoke from your lungs and then looks down at the joint between your fingers. He's not going to ask for it, so you raise your hand to the level of his mouth and position the end of it between his lips—which feel as soft as ever, and he leaves a little tempting kiss on your fingertips.
A few meters away from you the party is still going on. Sweaty bodies, blinding colored lights, and wet tongues that move to the rhythm of an ear-piercing song played by Renjun. He is a genius, the best of them all when it comes to producing music, and it shows in the way he makes you feel like your heart is gonna come out of your chest when he plays with the console.
It could be the music, the weed, the alcohol, the boy in front of you—who is looking into your eyes like you're the only one at the party, as if you were his favorite and he hadn't had multiple girls hitting on him all night—or a mix of all that, but you start to believe he got you hypnotized. You know you could have anyone else too, but it's never enough if they aren't Donghyuck.
He takes a hit making it burn until he hurts your fingers, so you have to move them away from his lips. However, the pain isn't enough to bring you back to reality, and a little touch on his lips doesn't calm the incessant desire you have to kiss him—it shows in the dilated pupils of your eyes that look for his gaze, in your agitated breathing, and in his sly smile as if he was reading all your thoughts.
What does it take to break Lee Donghyuck?
The tension can be felt in the air, so your friends are quick to leave the two of you alone in the balcony, maybe hoping you would sort your feelings out.
"Kiss me? Please, kiss me."
After throwing the end of the joint to the floor, he gently caresses your face with his nose and hugs your waist to get you closer, forcing you to cross your arms behind his neck.
You continue begging in his ear. "No more hiding, Hyuck."
His nose reaches your neck where you feel him plant a subtle wet kiss and then leave an intense bite. His teeth scraping your skin while his two hands squeeze your butt, drawing you firmly into his body. One last suck to your neck that you're sure will be leaving a mark, and then he's getting off you, staring down as if nothing just happened.
"Just came here to tell you we'll be leaving to Yangyang's."
Donghyuck lights up a cigarette and goes back inside without another word, probably hoping you'll go after him since that's what you've gotten him used to; you can't deny it.
You often feel like his babysitter and his mother at the same time: making sure that he won't make stupid decisions when he's out and intoxicated, that he won't miss any important schedules, that he can communicate himself better with his friends and family. You've been Donghyuck's unconditional support from the day you met, but since he's shown nothing in return it has started to feel like a burden. Like trying to make an already grown man grow. You know that it isn't your responsibility, though, and that he isn't likely to change for good.
You can't break Lee Donghyuck, but you still like to try.
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3. Tell her sweet lies
A quick stop before heading to the after-party at Yangyang's has Donghyuck's car sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, while he and Rina order takeout after you said you were feeling extremely hungry. It's you and Mia waiting inside, sitting on the heated seats with music blasting from the stereo.
You've made sure to make the ride awkward enough for Rina after you saw her with Donghyuck, caressing the nape of his neck and hair and squeezing his thigh as he drove in front of her. You know it's not an idea that Donghyuck likes too much, but the anger caused by his rejection combined with the desinhibition caused by the weed has you making bad decisions.
Donghyuck has left his phone unlocked for you to be able to change the music while he's gone. So you take the opportunity to enter his text messages and look for you and Mia's names through the chats.
Multiple results from the times you have been mentioned appear instantly. Some are funny ones, some are the result of important conversations in your group chat, and others are part of the private chats between Donghyuck and some of the boys.
"Did you know Yangyang talks about you to Donghyuck?" You ask Mia with a smirk.
"Oh my god!" She rips the phone out of your hands before you can get to read what it's about. "You're not reading that out loud."
Her pupils narrow when she brings the light of the screen closer to his eyes, to read the conversations between her "best friend" and Donghyuck. You immediately think that there can't be anything wrong with it because of the smile that Mia can't contain while she scrolls down the screen.
Mia throws the phone back at you and hides her blushed face on her hands before you can make fun at her.
"What is it?" You ask laughing. “Are you ever gonna stop messing around with other boys and confess to him?”
"I think he likes me," she says now looking at you, her cheeks still red from the temperature.
"Yeah, I think so too. I think he fucks you for a reason."
"Shut up! What does it say about you?"
You laugh once more and grab the phone, making sure to touch the screen before it locks up. The first mention of your name is from a chat from tonight, in which Donghyuck asked you if you wanted him to pick you up to go to the mansion. A few more meaningless mentions in your private conversation with him here and there. Some pictures and messages that you exchange that there's no chance to reveal. Lastly, you find several mentions of you in a private chat with Jaemin, which makes you curious so you open it to read the full conversations.
"There's something off here," you tell Mia with a furrow of your brows.
A little bit of concern is shown in her voice after watching your expression. "Huh? What is it?"
"He's been talking to Jaemin… And Jaemin asked if we've fucked." You tell your friend without stopping from scrolling through Donghyuck's phone, a deeper frown taking over your face the more you read his conversations with Jaemin that involve you.
"What did Hyuck say?"
"'I fucked her so good she won't go looking for you or any other guy ever again.'" You read Donghyuck's reply to Jaemin out loud. So that means he knew about you and Jaemin all this time. "'She gets so desperate for me it makes me sick, you can't imagine how much she cums when she's riding me–"
"I think that's enough." Mia scratches the phone from your hands and blocks it to prevent you from reading any more texts. A short silence falls between the two of you before she's speaking again. "I saw them kiss at midnight."
"Who?"
"Donghyuck and Rina."
Disgust quickly takes over your face and you feel like throwing up, the hunger you felt earlier leaving your body in an instant. It's been too much in such a short period of time.
The atmosphere in the car becomes awkward once more, a heavy trap base being the only sound filling the space. You don't really want to turn to look at the backseat where Mia sits because your teary eyes would give you away. You have known her long enough to be sure she won't hesitate destroying Donghyuck's car with a bat this time if she ever sees you crying because of him, again. And once you finally have such a good and stable group of friends, you don't want to ruin it just because you wanted to get involved with one of them and it turned out wrong.
You also knew who you were messing with since the start, but you still decided to ignore everything that Hyuck is and fall into lust and believe in his promises.
"He also said he doesn't really like me."
"Now that's ridiculous." Mia lets out a scoff.
You shrug, "It's what it said. That I’m only a good fuck."
"Hyuck has been seeing you for months, and you are going to believe what a silly text message says?" You feel Mia place her torso between the two front seats to try to meet your gaze while questioning you. "You know Hyuck becomes an asshole when he's with Jaemin," she continues. "He would say whatever bullshit to try to look cool–"
"But we haven't been doing so well lately."
"He likes you," she still tries to reassure you.
"Mia, it's fine. I don't care." You cut her off, crossing your arms and sulking in the passenger's seat. That tense silence keeps falling between both of you until she decides to speak.
"You can be sad about it, you know, he was being an asshole." She tells you in a much calmer tone, placing a hand on your left shoulder.
"I said it's fine." You turn to look at her the moment Donghyuck makes it back to the car with Rina, and takes his seat behind the steering wheel, passing the bags of takeout to Mia and placing yours in the middle of the car. Your eyes never meet Mia or Rina though, falling on Donghyuck's subtle smile, and getting lost in his glazed up eyes until you decide to lie to yourself for the millionth time that night. "I don't like him anyway."
Donghyuck looks a little lost as his eyes start wondering from you to Mia after hearing that last sentence. "Who's this guy we don't like?" You only smile in return, and ask him to take you home because you are too tired and intoxicated. He's quick to comply with your request, answering in a sweet and even more intoxicating tone than every other substance you had that night. "Of course, baby."
The car ride is awfully quiet when Donghyuck drops Mia and Rina at Yangyang's and, after a weird exchange of looks between Hyuck and the boys, the two of you continue your way to your house.
The night has gone from bad to terribly bad, and you're not sure how much longer you can take. After reflecting on every conversation you had with your friends tonight, you finally decide to speak.
"I think we should quit it."
He stops the car at the door of your house and looks at you with a crooked eyebrow. "What?" The disgust is evident in the tone of his voice.
"I just–" you struggle to take the words out. You aren't sure if you should tell him how hurt it made you that he talks like that about you with his friends, without shame or respect for your privacy. You aren't sure if you can reproach him for having been with other girls when you have also done it, when he has made clear you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, and when you agreed on it. "I know we'll never be in a real relationship, but I don't think you're treating me right, okay?"
Donghyuck lets out a scoff and his hands fall off the steering wheel like dead-weight. An expression on his face that tells you he's already done with this conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"That it feels like I'm a game to you? That you only want me around when your dick is in need or whatever?"
"I just spent like a hundred on food for you and your friends. Again, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"And I don't want your fucking food, okay? I don't care how much money you spend on me," you say looking at him with teary eyes at this point. "What if I just want a hug, a kiss, a little affection, huh? Just that you care for me all the time, you know?"
"Baby," Donghyuck looks for your hands and you let him intertwine your fingers over the middle of the car. "But I show you my affection all the time," he says with a sweeter tone now.
"But not in front of others," you shake your head. He squeezes your hands and his thumbs caress the back of your hands, making it even harder to contain all your emotions. "It's like you're scared of others finding out, like you're ashamed. When literally everyone knows we're seeing each other."
"We've kissed in front of others multiple times."
"Yeah, but all those times you've been drunk off your ass and high as a kite. Like I'm just a random girl for you to hook-up at parties."
Donghyuck bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and gets closer to you to speak in your ear. "What if I told you you make me nervous when I'm sober?"
"Get off, you're ridiculous."
"But you know you are the only one I really like."
That's what makes you stop fighting him to search for his eyes. You know it isn't the best option, that he always tricks you into thinking whatever he wants when he looks at you oh so sweetly, even if he makes no sense, but you are hoping to finally find the truth somehow.
"Some things tell me otherwise. Mia told me–"
"Your friends are lying to you, might be trying to fuck up what we have."
“She told me you kissed Rina.”
“I didn’t,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. Nothing happened between me and her.”
His gaze is cold and his lips a straight line devoid of emotion, while he still holds you by the arms preventing you from getting out of the car. And that sentence feels like it's enough to ruin all the good things you've been through together. He keeps lying, talking about your intimacies with his friends, ignoring your feelings, and pretending that he really cares about you.
You open the car door and get out to slam it again, pretty sure it might leave the lock damaged. Outside the temperature is very low despite the fact that it is about to dawn, the sky turning purple and slowly turning off the stars. So you rush to open the door of your house before freezing outside, but especially because you hear Donghyuck get out of the car too and call your name closer and closer, indicating that he has no intention of ending the talk yet.
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4. She knows what I am, and she loves and evades what I am
"I'm staying over." He says making his way through your door, shutting it and blocking it once the two of you are inside.
"No you're not." The walk down to your room gets constantly interrupted by him trying to reach for you and stopping you from moving any more. He grabs your arms to get you to look at him, so when he finally makes you turn around and you see his face, you break down. "Fuck you, Donghyuck! I told you you're not staying."
"Yeah, I am. And I'mma fuck you silly."
"No you're fucking not."
"Gonna take all that anger out of you."
"Fuck you, asshole." You almost spit in his face trying to talk to him at his same height.
"Is that what you want?" He asks, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to keep the eye contact, the other hand placing you flush from his body. "Fuck you so good you don't even understand why you got so mad in the first place?"
Your eyes fall to his gripped teeth and to his lips, wet with spit from all the previous arguing looking more tempting than usual.
You have to admit that, if you really think about it, it didn't make much sense why you got so mad at him. He already made it clear to you that absolutely nothing happened between him and Rina or anyone else all night while you, instead, jumped to conclusions and went looking for unwarranted revenge.
Maybe you and Mia thought he was being an asshole and was making fun of you when, in reality, that isn't much like Hyuck. What if it really was just a stupid conversation between boys? What if it was his way of showing off, of presuming to Jaemin about your relationship because he felt proud of you?
Because if he supposedly gets as sick of you as he said in the text messages, then why would he decide to be with you again?
A gasp comes out from your open mouth when you feel his hand squeezing on your ass and pushing you even closer to him.
"I just want you to be honest with me." You reply in a whisper. The smile that gets over his features is wicked, and his left hand tightens his grip around your face one last time before he shoves you to the bed.
An airy laugh comes out of him. "Silly girl gets angry and if I fuck her she calms down."
He gets over you placing both hands on the sides of your head and looks into your eyes once more. But there's something different this time. His look is so soft and tender it makes you want to tear up a little. It might show, because Donghyuck pouts lightly before opening his mouth to swear to you: "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."
It's hard to trust him. But it's also hard to believe he would dare lie to you while looking at you in the eyes that way. So you only grab his locks and pull to give him a kiss full of emotion. There's passion, there's anger, there's pain and there's so much obsession it could be mistaken for love.
His palm travels up and down from your sides, caressing and squeezing firmly, to your back under your top until he unties the straps and gets it out of the way. His fingers explore and touch all the newly exposed skin sending shivers down your spine. He kisses you back aggressively, making you pull on his hair like you know he likes and feeling him grow hard above you.
His hands start to undo the buttons of your jeans and he slides his fingers under it and over your skin, massaging your ass, grinding on you even more.
Small whimpers leave from you and mix with the sighs coming out from his mouth. You take a moment to remove your pants completely, tossing them to the side and quickly starting to get Donghyuck out of his.
When his hands move up again, he gets them under the straps of your panties and moves them down, freeing you from the fabric, parting your legs and giving your clit direct contact with his boxers.
It's always too easy when he's alone with you. He knows perfectly when to kiss you and where to touch you to make you want more of him—an expert of your body, always looking for you to have the best time.
Guilt takes over you for the second time tonight, remembering how selfish you were earlier when you went looking out for his friend, and then getting mad at him when Donghyuck has really been nothing but the sweetest when it's just the two of you.
What was the problem with keeping things private? What was your obsession with him showing you off? You never considered he’s a public figure and he might like his privacy, to keep things on the low because of his fans, the paparazzi and the media who’s never got anything nice to say about him and your friends.
When you get away from him all of a sudden, there's a remaining blush on his cheeks as his lustful but confused eyes follow you, until you get on the floor and land on your knees in between his legs. His pupils expand as you tug on his boxer, grab his semi-hard cock and lick the tip of it. As soon as you repeatedly run your tongue around it, you hear him groan deeply. Not much time passes until he is fully hard while you keep moving your hand along his dick, squeezing and passing your thumb over the tip making Donghyuck hiss, and he pushes your head down to make you wrap your mouth around him one more time.
"Fuuuck baby," he groans one more time before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away.
You look at him with shiny eyes, your lips red and moisturized with his pre-cum. And because of the way his chest moves up and down from the heavy breathing and the look he's giving you, you think Donghyuck might come just at the sight of you.
He doesn't waste another second to attach your mouths in a desperate kiss, leading you to lay on top of the bed once again. His weight on your body maintains your back pressed against the mattress, and he makes room between your legs. You're sure he's more than ready for you, but you know he always wants to make sure you are fully ready for him. His digits tease your entry and you whine in desperation to just have him. 
"Hyuck," you can't help but cry his name.
"What?" He asks as his fingers keep going in and out of you. The feeling of his lips on yours help you momentarily stop from moaning and complaining.
When he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, you manage to speak. "Quit teasing and fuck me."
He only grins at you and you can finally feel the head of his cock replacing his fingers in your pussy. But he doesn't push in yet. Instead, his fingers coated in your juices come in contact with your lips and somehow you know what he wants.
"Did you have fun playing the angry girlfriend with me?" He comes closer and whispers in your ear as you open your mouth and suck them for him. "Silly girl. Look at you, you are so beautiful." Donghyuck talks in between wet kisses that move from your cheeks to your neck. "How could you believe what your friends say?"
A moan escapes you—whether because of his actions or his words, it doesn't matter too much, because he slams his dick into you, taking away all the air from your lungs.
The oxygen only reaches your blood again once he slightly pulls off to bottom out immediately after, setting a steady pace. You are restricted from making any sounds, as his fingers are still on your mouth while he keeps pleasuring you, obliging you to suck and bite at them because he just feels too good.
Once again, you think every doubt you ever had about him before was dumb, as there isn't a possibility he would want to make you feel this good if he didn't like you at all.
His girth is perfectly adjustable to you and quick to form a knot on the low of your stomach. It would suddenly disappear when he completely pulls out of you and grabs your hips to turn you around, making you stand on your elbows and knees. With your head down on the mattress and ass up in the air, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second and gets inside you.
His thrusts are slow and deep, way too deep. This position allows him perfectly to play with your clit and to squeeze your breasts at the same time, quickly sending you over the edge in a minute, then stopping completely, then stimulating you to the limit over again.
When he finally gets his hands off your body completely, you start to accelerate the pace on your own, fucking yourself on his dick before Donghyuck interrupts suggesting you move to straddle him.
He's quick to get himself sitting with his back against the bed frame, then dragging you to sit comfortably on top of him. Hyuck rubs the head of his dick back and forth between your folds, reaching your clit repeatedly and spreading your wetness all over him, making you whine in the process.
"Hyuck, please." You are a panting mess on top of him, moving yourself to keep the friction stimulating you and sighing dreamily. 
He lets you grind and stimulate your clit through his length for a bit, taking his shirt off in the process and going back to massaging your boobs. You whimper when he manages to sink you down on him without a warning, which makes you fall forward and rest the side of your head on his chest, your ear right above where his heart should be.
His arms embrace your body and press you against his chest that is warm, allowing you to hear the rhythm of his heart, slow and controlled, like you could find all the right answers by just listening to it.
"I would make love to you," he whispers, "but you made me mad with your little scene."
"Hyuck, don't be like that." Your eyes fall shut trying to hold back the tears, when at the same time you desperately want to see his satisfied smile hearing you cry and moan his name as he rolls his hips, stretching your walls again and again without having started to move back and forth again. "Hyuck, fucking move!" You ask desperately, sitting and trying to bounce on him but his hands on your waist keep you in place, glued to his torturing hips.
A strong smack on your right ass cheek makes another filthy sound escape from your lips right before you hear his voice. "Talk to me nicely," he warned.
"Do that again." 
Your plea makes him smile and move your ass up a bit to give you the first thrust after a while. His palm violently comes in contact with your cheek one more time and you fall even forward, hiding your face on his neck and whispering all the praises you could think of in his ear.
"That's it," he says as he continues hitting all the right spots inside you.
When his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit you can't contain yourself anymore and fully sit on top of him to take a little bit of control, riding him while you chase your orgasm.
Even when you start begging for it over and over, he doesn't say a thing at your tireless plea. He knows you are once again at the verge of it by the way your inner walls clench around him. Instead, he keeps stimulating your clit while squeezing and sucking your boobs. Sitting in the middle of his bed with his dick buried inside you, he makes you work for it until you are coming all over him.
You keep moving, supporting yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and riding out your orgasm until you feel the cold air hit your nipples, wet with the warmth of Hyuck's mouth before he was moaning out his own orgasm.
"Love you," he places a kiss at the top of your head, and caresses you gently along your back down to your thighs. "You're so, so beautiful."
You open your eyes and take a look at your surroundings while still hiding your face on Donghyuck's neck. Things look blurry and you feel a little dizzy. You're breathing heavily, but not only because of the amazing angry-make up sex you two just had. You're coming back to your senses, and your chest hurts and your eyes sting from holding on the tears; it's everything that happened this night taking over you all at once.
A sip from your nose is what gives you away and makes Donghyuck laugh.
"Aw, baby," he says with a squeeze on your asscheek. "Fucked you so good I got you crying?" Donghyuck takes your face in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. His thumbs wipe away the thick tears that fall down your cheeks with care, and he kisses the pout on your lips over and over again, until they form a straight line. "Shh, it's okay baby. I know you didn't mean to get mad at me."
You shake your head and open your mouth, determined to speak, to tell him that things can no longer work like this, but you are interrupted by his lips and his hands making you start to move again on his dick, still buried deep inside you.
"I love you," he repeats in between kisses, and you moan. "I love you. Happy New Year."
And this time you shake your head in agreement, up and down in the same way that Donghyuck starts to move your body on him, hoping he would just shut up and stop lying for once. But you try to convince yourself that if you do it all again, that if you choose to keep seeing him, there will be just lust. No playing games, no believing in promises, no loving him, but lust. Because you can't let him go just like that.
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Happy holidays everyone! If you liked this fic, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.
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cowboydisaster · 8 months
Note
reader dying in Simon's arms... med evac being too late... Simon in denial?
i like to cause pain 🫡
nonny... you are a little torturer, but I'm here for it. I actually wrote this a bit ago, but tweaked it b/c it was very similar to this prompt. Anyhow, enjoy you little angst-lover!
Fine Line
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 1.7k a/n: reader goes by callsign: Red. Also, this is like-- super angsty. I'm SORRY. I'll make it up to you later I promise. xx warnings: death, reader death, blood, gore? i think thats the word im looking for, denial, trauma, hurt/no comfort. masterlist
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It doesn’t look good.
You hold your palm over your torso, pulling it away to look down at the ruby colored liquid that is coating your hands. It’s sort of beautiful, you think, oddly. Like rose petal after rose petal spilling out from your wounds, coating your being in its own life sustaining substance. It hurts, an unrelenting burn radiating throughout your body, causing you to tremor uncontrollably. You’ve seen death plenty. You’ve been the hand of it, and now you’re the victim. Funny how things come full circle like that. 
Bodies lie around the room you occupy, already having suffered the same fate that you’re about to. You’d succeeded in clearing the room. Ah, but the closet. You’d missed it. A simple mistake, and it would cost you your life. You managed to take out the enemy, but not before he pressed his damning shotgun against your stomach, not before he’d pulled the trigger. 
Your breathing is shallow, the puffs of air are visible in the cool air, and they shrink smaller as an overwhelming cold begins to creep around your lungs. Ice wraps around your frame like an old friend, like a lover. 
“Red, how copy?” 
You glance down at your radio, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips at the familiar voice. Simon. Oh, how you love him. 
“Fuck, sergeant. How copy? I heard shots.” Simon says again, this time harsher. You’ll miss his voice, his touch, his eyes. You hope that in some way, after you’re gone, he’ll be with you.
His voice soothes you, your heart skipping a beat even as it slowly gives up, unable to carry the burden of keeping you alive for much longer. Blood trickles down your body like vines, wrapping around your arms and holding you heavy to the ground. You hope they’ll plant roses on your grave. 
 Slippery fingers press down on the comms button, trembling and soaked with crimson. 
“I’m here, Ghost… I’m here.” You say into your comms. Your voice is barely a whisper, nothing more than a wisp. You used to be so bubbly, the loudest in the room. Your voice is foreign in your ears as the soft, comforting hands of death steal your air away from you, unwilling to compromise. Not this time. 
“I'm coming, Red. Fuck, I’m on my way, love. I’ll be right there. Just hang on.” Simon pleads. You can hear his heavy breathing through the comms, swallowed by the panic in his voice. He sounds scared, terrified. It contrasts how you feel. Death has never been peaceful. Not when you watched teammates die on the field, not even when you killed. But this, being on the fine line of life and death? It’s peaceful. Death is quiet, it’s numb. Living. That’s the hard part. Fighting. Surviving. 
Your eyes flicker to the door as Simon kicks it clean in. Your love enters the room quickly. You hate seeing him so worried, you’d take it away if you could. You’d carry the burden to ease the weight on his shoulders. 
“Red!” Simon yells, running towards you and sliding to his knees on the ground beside you. His eyes scan over your wound, refusing to acknowledge the warm, red liquid that pools around you. He’s had a lot of blood on his hands, but never yours. Never. 
Big hands push against your torso, attempting to stop the inevitable seeping of blood from your broken and battered body. It’s no use. Your time is up. The blood that Simon so desperately tries to stop from flowing has already been used to sign your life away. 
“Price. I need a medevac, now!” Simon screams into his radio, the desperation is thick in his voice. His hands on your body hurt you, pushing against wounds that you know will never be sealed again. You groan uncomfortably as he attempts to force the life back into you. 
“You’ll be just fine, baby. Just fine. Hang on for me, yeah? I’ll get you out of here.” Simon rambles. 
“Simon, stop.” You whisper, hand weakly covering his. He shakes his head, unbelieving that this is happening. It can’t be. He’s lost everything. He can’t lose you too. Anything, anyone but you. He’s not strong enough. His skeleton gloves are painted red, like the rose petals, the blood, seeping from your mouth and your body. He pushes harder, noises of anguish escaping from his throat. A tear slips down your cheek, the liquid mixing in with the blood. 
“Simon, stop.” You plead. He shakes his head. 
“I won’t let you die out here.” He says, frantic, hands putting pressure on your wounds. 
“It’s too late and you know it. Please. It hurts, Simon.” You whisper, head lolling back against the wall, “Just hold me… please.”
Simon hesitates. Everything in his being is screaming at him to fix you, to make a futile attempt to heal your wounds. But how can he deny you? He doesn’t move, but your hand squeezes his and he gives in to the weak gesture. His back slumps against the wall beside you, and he scoops you into his warm arms.
You were wrong. Death isn’t peace, his arms are. You smile weakly, curling into his chest as the life seeps out from your very pores. 
“I can’t lose you, Red. Not you. Medevac’s almost here. You’ve got to hang on for just a bit, yeah?” Simon says, eyes darting around the room before they land on you again. There’s so much blood, too much blood. It covers you and him. He knows that no matter how hard he scrubs, it won’t ever come out. It’s etched into his very being, stained forever.
He’ll have to burn his clothes.
For his sake, you nod, though you know it’s a lie. 
“They’ll get here in time. They will.” Simon nods to himself, attempting to convince himself that you’ll be okay. 
He rocks you lightly, tears slipping down his cheeks and wetting his balaclava. His brown eyes are stained red from tears. The pain in your torso begins to dissipate, a searing burn turning to a dull ache. An overwhelming numbness begins to spread from the tips of your fingertips, spreading through you like clover. It covers you, a peaceful escape from the constant pain. You realize that time is slipping through your fingers, and no matter how much you try, it will continue to fall. 
“I love you, Simon.” You whisper, voice barely a puff of air. You need him to hear it, just one last time. You don’t ever want him to forget. Simon shakes his head. 
“You’re gonna be okay. Don’t– don’t say that. You’ll be just fine, love. You can tell me how much you love me when you’re safe at the base.” He stumbles over his words, begging to wake up from this nightmare and be in bed next to you. 
“Say it back or you’ll regret it.” You whisper, knowing he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his life if he doesn’t repeat those familiar words to you just one last time.
“I’ll tell you when we get home. You’re not going to die out here.” His resolve is strong. Denial. A cold, bloody hand comes up to rest on his cheek, leaving a bloody handprint as you cup his masked face. 
“I want to–” You gasp for breath, a wheeze that Simon won’t ever unhear for the rest of his life– “I want to hear it one last time.” You smile weakly, eyes locked onto his large brown irises. They are brimming with tears that you’ve never seen fall from his eyes. 
“I love you.” He whispers, shakily. “Love you so much, my Red.”
“Thank you, Simon.” You whisper, “For everything.” 
Your eyes are tired, and they slip shut to unburden themselves from staying open. Simon rocks you as his warm tears drip down onto your hair. A kiss is pressed to your hair, your forehead, your cheek. A sound of anguish, of raw pain shreds through the room. You can’t bring yourself to react.
It’s like falling asleep, lulled into a blissful slumber by the man you love. It’s peaceful. Simon’s warmth fades away from you, replaced by a cold that wraps around your heart and your lungs. The icy compression squeezes the last ounce of life from your being, and the rose petals stop falling. 
Captain Price rushes into the room, Gaz and Soap on his six. His feet stop once he lays eyes on the scene in front of him. Ghost rocks you gently, eyes frantic, full of a pain and fear that Price has never seen in the stone-cold man’s eyes. 
“Where’s the heli? You’ve got to help her!” Simon yells angrily at the three men. Soap backs up slightly, a few tears brimming in his eyes. 
“Price!” Simon screams, his voice raw. He doesn't understand why no one is reacting, why no one is helping. He stands up from the floor, cradling you in his arms tightly. Your head is lulled back unnaturally, your hair cascading towards the floor.
"Simon…" Price whispers, taking a few steps towards you both. 
"You've got to help her! Fucking hell, Price! Please!" Simon roars. His arms are trembling. His eyes are stained red with tears. 
"Simon… she isn't breathing." Price whispers, his own tears coming to the surface as he looks over your lifeless body. You're unmoving, forever still and cold in Simon's arms. 
“She’s alive–” Simon shakes his head, refusing to face the truth, “She’s alive, we just have to get her into the heli!”
“Simon…” Price whispers again, “She’s already gone.”
“You have to help her, Price. Fucking hell, please– Soap, Gaz, anybody please. Fuck!”
Death had already passed through, carried you away as red dripped down from the very being of your soul. 
You're grateful to not be able to hear Simon's screams.
356 notes · View notes
universalthaumaturge · 3 months
Text
Nobilis Dash Simulator
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❤️‍🔥 theworkofhellisholy Follow
i love you shipping discourse i love you having to make accounts for everything i love you small talk i love you esophageal cancer i love you deforestation i love you scabs you can't help but pick even though you're not supposed to i love you scabs as in strikebreakers i love you unbearably hot weather in winter i love you people who film strangers in public without their consent i love you prion disease i love you car-based infrastructure i love you gallstones i love you stock market i love you enshittification i lov
36 notes
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🌳 sneacensnoveonthesnorldsnash Follow
just ate an elfsciene panini for the first time and cried i love u world
🌺 flore7 Follow
i'm dying of cake so i can't really eat it without being crushed to death by a giant cake mountain but aelfscienne's is so good i don't even care anymore LOL
🌳 sneacensnoveonthesnorldsnash Follow
i want you carnally
🪲 lord-entropy-official Follow
Why do I even bother anymore.
607,789 notes
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🐶 surolam Follow
Remember to use miracles responsibly! There has been a surprising increase in dementia animus cases lately.
lakedrinker10000-deactivated60231212
and what if we don't?
👨‍⚖️ locourtbailiff Follow
oh thats simple! TEN THOUSAND LOCUST ATTACK 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗
12,144 notes
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🕵️ illegalregal Follow
ok i know we're meant to "enact vengeance no more than sevenfold unto their crime" or whatever but what the fuck does that MEAN????
🕵️ illegalregal Follow
like, if an excrucian eats the leftovers i had on my fridge, do i eat their food? do i punch them (but softly enough that it's not over 7x as worse as having your leftovers stolen!)?? is there a conversion guide somewhere. how the hell do you MEASURE that?????
7 notes
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🦑 yog-sazasthur Follow
Kids these days TOO FOCUS on their damned CELL-PHONES..... They should be Eating... Having Sex... And Wriggling !
30,054 notes
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👽 prescottsdaddy Follow
do you think cneph and harumaph ever explored eachother's bodies
cneph Follow
we did
👽 prescottsdaddy Follow
dude's literally roleplaying as the great maker and the angels in the notes are calling ME blasphemous???
90,732 notes
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☠️ chattering-monkeys-and-parrots Follow
kys. just in general
🧍‍♂️ the-light-is-perfection Follow
excuse you???
☠️ chattering-monkeys-and-parrots Follow
kys in particular
281,667 notes
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👼 graceful-invader Follow
guys the voice of the creator is telling me we should kiss eachother with tounge. this is what heaven needs
733,712 notes
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🔨 warry-in-main Follow
just did my first tempering and it turns out the dude was lactose intolerant
🐻 peregrine-twink Follow
aw man that sucks. is there anything we can do to help?
🔨 warry-in-main Follow
take my test boy
1,907 notes
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🧸 dailydahlia Follow
Why do people still think i'm a mimic?!
#seriously guys! #longfurby is RIGHT THERE.
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💠 itfuckenwildy Follow
god i fucking hate it here
🎩 qistjannuja Follow
Hate? No no no my enemy, you don't "hate" creation. Not really.
Let me tell you about actual hate. Pure, undiluted, wyrdbound Hate.
I was ROYALTY. I ruled over my lands with a kind hand and an iron fist and we THRIVED. But then, the little prick you call a maker fucking drowned it all in… in THIS. This grimy, glitched, causational mess you dare to call home.
If that was it, I'd be pissed. I'd be furious, even. But that's not all.
It had the AUDACITY to poison me with its substance. I physically can't stay in the void because it leaks out and poisons it too. And when I come back, guess what? It kills me. Over and over and over and over. I've died five times this month. Died of HORSES. Imagine getting stampeded on just for daring to exist, **WHICH I DON'T BY THE WAY**.
And you know what? if that was it, I could take it. If that was it, I would just take the L and try to adapt. I would try to find beauty in the world, you know? stop and smell the flowers? But GUESS WHAT. Your "great maker" DIDN'T EVEN MAKE THE WORLD RIGHT. It's all... eugh.
I can't stand the creation simps who try to defend it but HARUMAPH-MY-WITNESS I FUCKING DESPISE the ones who think they hate it more than me. YOU DON'T. Fuck you. I'll world-breaker's hand you. Bitch.
💠 itfuckenwildy Follow
nvm i love it here. where else would you get shit like this
🎭 gaathika-aupa-yochelm Follow
"i'll world-breaker's hand you. bitch." LMAOOO i bet this dumbass doesn't even have the drunkard's gift
🎩 qistjannuja Follow
It's none of your fucking business, ""Aupa"", and besides, it seems you don't understand what an ANALOGY is.
"World-Breaker's Handing" someone is simply meant to imply utterly and retroactively erasing them, something your deceiveroid intellect probably wouldn't comprehend anyways.
I am a Votary in my Dream-of-Self and a Dustcloak of my Sphere, I don't need some paltry Wyrd-trick to kill either of you.
🎭 gaathika-aupa-yochelm Follow
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🌌 not-heritage-posts Follow
Not-Heritage Post
124,801 notes
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🌸 botanyhellyeah Follow
my gf mde fun of me bc i cant open the jar of pickle but shes a supernal martialart master and im jsut a little motal i'm not even miraculous in natures
🧘‍♂️ zulander Follow
Rosie, sweetheart, do you remember the miraculous bracers you made? the ones with the oak leaves, that make you as strong as a noble when you say the command word? the ones you're wearing right now?
🌸 botanyhellyeah Follow
FUFK
25,678 notes
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👥 weamlegion0015 Follow
normalize consuming peolpe and incorporating them into the unliving matrix of your pseudoself! ^u^
🪀 jojotun Follow
Are you an actual
👥 weamlegion0015 Follow.
no what makes u say that? :P
🪀 weamlegion0016 FOLLOW.
aah it was nohting! my bad XD
20 notes
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🤫 iolithae Follow
this joke format is still funny and relevant
5 notes
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👚 dionylsus Follow
look it's not a sex thing when i pretend to be a set of human clothes and my partner wears me to the movies, ok? we do it so we don't have to pay two tickets. putting me in the washing machine IS a sex thing though
120 notes
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cneph Follow
can someone please get me out of this fiddle. the wi-fi is great but i can't stretch without getting splinters
0 notes
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🌟 ananda Follow
I might have accidentally let a few urbana escape into the prosaic. Stay safe out there.
141,235,813 notes
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👨 im-an-anchor-you-wankor Follow
WHY THE FUCK IS MY TRASH CAN BITING ME
195 notes · View notes
riality-check · 11 months
Text
part 3 of... whatever this au is. here's part 1 and part 2 if you missed them. tw substance abuse. part 4 here. part 5 here. part 6 here. part 7 here.
ao3
"You ever taken a hit?"
"Excuse me?"
First, Harrington calls his songs "boring" and "repetitive." "Talking about all the same thing." And, yeah, maybe he does have a point. Maybe Eddie can't write about much else, but that's a casualty of not being able to think about much else.
Everyone says addiction is selfish, and they're right. No one talks about how recovery is, too.
So, sorry that he's consumed by notoriously all-consuming things.
But then, Harrington shows up late to the studio. Granted, Eddie was, too, but Harrington stumbled into the little room fifteen minutes after the time Chrissy set up for them, ever-present coffee in hand.
And now he asks that.
"Like a punch," he explains. "Have you ever been hit?"
Eddie lets out a breath. "Yeah, I've been hit."
He thinks back to being a freshman in high school, what feels like forever ago, and getting shoved and tripped and swirlied by senior jock assholes.
There were never any closed-fist punches, but Eddie thinks he gets the idea.
"So you know that it feels good."
Eddie stares at him. "Good is not the word-"
"There's a moment," Harrington interrupts, and Eddie wants to kill him, "between the impact and the pain. You feel everything: how their hand feels, whether they're wearing rings, if they're holding something. And that might not feel good, but right after they hit you, everything is warm. And it feels really good, right until the pain sets in."
Eddie doesn't know what to say, not really, so he mouths off. "Got a lot of experience?"
"Four diagnosed concussions," Harrington replies.
Well. Eddie wasn't expecting that.
Just like he wasn't expecting Harrington's music to actually be good. He stayed up with the band last night, listening. And, yeah, he didn't like the goddamn synth chords, but reading along with the lyrics...
It was impressive. Eddie was impressed, okay?
Harrington's lyrics are far-ranging and emotionally impactful. He writes about family and love and survival in these really compelling, sometimes upbeat, sometimes not, ways. He writes about getting better and getting back up and fighting and Eddie gets it. He gets why Chrissy got his help.
Because not only is Harrington a rising star with a voice that Eddie thinks could be a little grittier if he put in the effort, but he also knows how to write about a lot of stuff.
And Eddie, since - since all of it, has clearly forgotten how to do so.
So, maybe, just maybe, he should start throwing his expectations about Harrington out the window.
"You know what it feels like," Harrington says. "So write about it."
Eddie sighs and lets his head flop onto the back of the couch. He hears Steve shift in his chair, hears him yawn.
In the silence, he wonders if he's sipping his coffee or covering his mouth like he did last week.
Eddie thinks that if he finds out the answer, he'll need a cigarette to kill the itch that'll inevitably spring up.
"Or not," Harrington mumbles.
Eddie drops his head forward. "Give a guy a second, will you? I don't know how-"
"Well, I'm here to help, not spoon-feed you lyrics."
"I didn't ask-"
"Oh, believe me, I know."
"Then why the hell-"
"Write about losing," Harrington snaps.
Eddie tilts his head to the side. "What?"
"You write about-"
"I know what I write about."
"Then you should know," Harrington says, raising his voice, "that there was a point where you wanted to give in."
Eddie shuts his mouth, and, despite his better instincts, leans forward, toward Harrington, far enough that his knees hit the coffee table between the couch and the chair.
"Because when you're fighting monsters, a little part of you thinks, it would be so much easier if I just lost. If I threw up my hands and let them get me."
Eddie thinks back to waking up after blackouts. To being carried places and dunked under cold water to sober the fuck up before we go out there. To figuring out ways to stay higher longer, refusing to be beholden to the inevitable crash.
And he hates that Steve Harrington has somehow found that out about him, however vaguely.
"Lot of experience with monsters?" Eddie says because damn if Harrington gets to cut him without getting cut back.
Harrington leans forward in turn. "You have no idea."
He picks up the black ballpoint pen on the coffee table and shoves it toward Eddie, toward his blank notepad.
Eddie bites his tongue, takes it, and writes lyrics and a lead guitar part in the fastest time he's ever managed, with Harrington as a sounding board, offering his suggestions.
They're good suggestions.
It's going to be a good song.
It's too bad that Eddie can't stand Harrington's smug smirks and his terrifying assumptions and his little bit of spaciness. It's too bad that after he sees Harrington swipe at his nose - even though it's probably not like that - when they're done that Eddie has to go outside and smoke two cigarettes to stop thinking about it.
Otherwise, they might actually make a good team.
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