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#so i've been running around ragged.
quick-drawn · 1 year
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— howdy,
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mossmx · 6 months
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cleaning glass gives a completely new look on everything, the bookcase, the glasses, the windows... it's just better :)
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bby-deerling · 1 month
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Please a Hc with Zoro, Kid and Law: how do they react when having a premature ejaculation? 💧💧💧💧🌊
i swear you are a mind reader sometimes because i've been thinking about this with law so you gave me the perfect excuse to write it
when they cum too soon (nsfw)
ft. zoro, kid, law
masterlist || commissions
cw: creampie (w/law and zoro), implied virgin law, established relationship, degradation (w/kid only), brat taming (w/kid only)
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @eelnoise @wrennyx @atanukileaf @zorolux
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zoro
"dammit—" zoro hisses, inhaling sharply as he feels himself spill into you. he hadn't meant to cum so soon and was used to lasting a lot longer, but he was so pent up after weeks of not seeing you while you were off saving the stupid cook that he finds himself cumming nearly as soon as he sheathes himself inside of you.
"'s alright—" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice laced with annoyance and irritation.
"it's not alright. i should have more self control than that." he sighs, jaw clenched as he stares down at you; he had wanted to make this special for you, especially after you and brook had walked in on hiyori sleeping on top of him. this was the time for zoro to prove his devotion to you, and in his eyes he had failed by losing his head so quickly instead of focusing on making you feel good.
"just keep going, zoro." you urge him with pleading eyes. he's so weak for that look in your eyes—the one that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. and so he does, dragging his second orgasm out for as long as he possibly can, making sure you're completely spent and drooling from both your mouth and your pussy before he allows himself to cum again.
kid
"god, what the fuck is wrong with you, making me cum so damn fast?" kid snarls, words broken up by gasps as he catches his breath. your skin is already covered in a rainbow of colors—red from his lipstick, purple and yellow from hickeys both new and old, and white from the ropes of cum he just painted your stomach with—but he can't help but wish he could've held out a bit longer, especially given how much he had talked himself up earlier.
undeterred by his frustration, you let out an amused huff. "you can always just fuck me again, y'know." you say, lips curled into a smug smirk as you watch him run his hands through his now drooping scarlet hair.
"of course i'm gonna fuck you again. maybe it'll finally shut up that bratty mouth of yours." he snaps, face turning as red as his hair; already half-hard, slamming his cock into your drooling pussy with no warning is all he needs to get himself back to full mast. the gasps and whimpers you let out make him regain all of his confidence and then some, and he has no problems telling you what a bratty little slut you are for giving into him so easily.
law
"fuck—i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cum inside you." law whispers in your ear, breath ragged after he inadvertently came deep inside of your pussy; he had told himself beforehand that he would pull out, but he wasn't prepared for how good you'd feel gripping his cock and before he knew it, he was choking back groans and burying his head in your shoulder as his twitching cock spilled into you.
you let out a dreamy sigh as you press a lazy kiss into his hair. "'s okay, it felt so good." you reassure him, tightening your hold around him and pulling him close. the two of you lay like that for a few moments until your breathing regulates, though you're a haywire mess as soon as he pushes himself up with one hand to hover over you, eyes full of an intense hunger that you were eager to satiate.
"i haven't had enough of you yet." he says lowly, softly dragging his thumb across your lower lip. you can't help the way his words make your face burn and the corners of your lips quirk upwards.
"me neither." you reply, and his mouth is back on yours in a second, hot needy, and wanting as his tongue slips into your mouth; hips gently rocking into yours as his cock stiffens inside of you once more, you hope he fills you up again—on purpose this time.
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phoward89 · 4 months
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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika
Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.
Story Masterlist
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Chapter 1:
When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.
When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.
“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 
Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”
His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 
Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”
“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 
Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.
“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.
Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”
“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 
Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”
His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.
“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”
“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”
What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.
You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 
Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”
“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 
Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 
“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”
You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?
Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.
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Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 
So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.
No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.
It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.
He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.
That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.
Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 
Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 
“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.
“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.
“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 
“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.
“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 
All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 
She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).
Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 
“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”
“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.
Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.
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You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 
You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.
But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.
It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.
Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.
Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.
Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.
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Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.
“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.
“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.
“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.
It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.
Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.
He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.
Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”
Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”
“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 
“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”
If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.
Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”
You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”
“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 
“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 
“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”
“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”
Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.
“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 
You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.
“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.
“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.
“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”
You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 
Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”
“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.
If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops,
@bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,
@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur
@squidscottjeans
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Bad News First, Eddie
Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part
"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."
It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.
Or so Steve had thought.
Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.
Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.
Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.
Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."
Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?
Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.
The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.
"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.
"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.
Months pass and Steve goes every week.
"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."
"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."
"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."
So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.
Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.
"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."
So it goes.
"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"
"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."
"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.
Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.
Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.
As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.
"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."
Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.
"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."
And then, a miracle happens.
"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."
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mechaknight-98 · 3 months
Text
Festivities (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki
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Authors note: Sakura has been too hot this comeback, and it's her birthday today…so yeah enjoy
Part II
Sakura sighed as she sat alone on her birthday. She had expected this as her favorite boy toy had told her he would be busy but would make it up to her. Her other members all had schedules throughout the day which made it harder for her. Sakura didn't hate being alone. she liked being by herself and relaxing and reenergizing like a true introvert but hated the feeling of being isolated and today she felt it. So after she did her birthday live she was colored surprised when she got a knock on the Door. She squints as she opens it and shock paints her face Daigo smiles and enters her Dorm.
“Long time no see Kura.” the young man says to her. Sakura smiles
“Yeah oh my gosh, it has been so long. 3 years right?” Sakura asked. Daigo nodded.
“So how have you been?” Daigo asked
“Busy” Sakura replied
Daigo smiled, “Honestly same work has me drowning most days, but that's trivial. It's your birthday today! You know I had to come and celebrate with you. So what do you want to do today Kura?”
“Hmm? Let's go to the PC bang!” the Japanese woman said excitedly.
Daigo nodded but dreaded internally he knew what she was going to ask him to play with her and he was not happy about it. “What do you want to play Kura?”
“Destiny 2.” Daigo reels for a moment then acquiesces.
“Okay,” he relents as the two of them go to the PC bang. Sakura is elated. She hated being isolated as recently as it made her feel empty almost. After having spent so many years around sisters having space all to herself felt wrong. She was surprised to see her gaming pen pal of many years but appreciated the company, especially since her usual boy toy was with Chaewon and her schedule. She supposed this is the reason you don't fuck your managers but Sakura needed it with all the anxiety and doom-scrolling she would often fall victim to she needed someone to vent her fury on to.
“So Diago when did you fly in?” Sakura asked as they walked together. She grabbed him tightly clinging to his warmth in the cool early spring air
Daigo counted in his hands “Um two days ago.” Daigo answered
“Was it just for me?” Sakura asked hopeful
“Of course, my little Cherry Blossom,” Daigo responded Sakura smiled and grasped him close tighter,
“Your Korean has gotten much better,” Sakura noted.
“Well, I have an excellent teacher.” Daigo praised Sakura she smiled. She loved how sweet and kind he was to her.
“How is everyone? This comeback has been…extensive from what I've seen.” Daigo asked choosing his words carefully as he saw a myriad of emotions in Sakura’s eyes. The main one is Fatigue.
Feeling comfortable Sakura slipped out of Sakura Miyawaki the it girl, idol, host, and fell into Kura.
“Oh god, it's overwhelming. Our company has been running us ragged. Can you believe they have us going to California right before the world tour?” Daigo raised an eyebrow. A world tour hadn't been announced previously, but he let it rest.
“Well for that Cali trip, I may be able to potentially confirm that you may or may not see a friend there.” Daigo obfuscated.
Kura looked at him confused, then asked,
“What state are you from Daigo? When you speak English your accent doesn't sound like this from anywhere.” Daigo smiled
“I'm from Cali Kura.” Daigo chuckled and watched as Kura put the pieces together.
“You're coming to visit?” Daigo nodded to which Kura smiled brightly and hugged him, but then a sad feeling washed over her
“I wish you could stay in Korea,” Sakura said wistfully.
“But then I wouldn't be your cool American friend I'd just be your loser gamer friend in Korea.” Daigo half-joked. He looked at Kura before adding. “Your hair is pretty this way I like it.” Sakura smiled as she twirled around accidentally whipping his face with her ponytail. Daigo reeled from her unintended attack. As Sakura turned around ( and realized what happened ) she profusely apologized for her actions, but Daigo took it in stride.
After the PC Bang and dinner, Daigo led Kura up to her dorm.
“So Kura need anything else?” Daigo asked politely as he stood in the open doorway. Sakura’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah your cock.” she says huskily as she slams the door shut with surprising force. She quickly pulls down Daigo’s sweatpants and gets on her knees. She begins to mercilessly suck his cock
“Shit Kura.” Daigo hisses at her aggressive behavior. While it's a bit of a turn-on, it's still shocking she began to fondle his balls hoping to coax a large load from him
“Can you give me two loads for my birthday one large one down my throat and the other in my pussy, I need it,” she said as she came up for air. Before going back down on him. Daigo groans as he hardens in her mouth. After he's reached full mast Sakura smiles
“There we go.” she cooed as she led Daigo to her bedroom. Where she quickly resumed her vacuum-tight seal. As she sucks Daigo off she also lathers his cock with her spit before using her tongue to stimulate the tip before poking his slit with her tongue causing Daigo to jerk his hips. Sakura smiles around his cock. Seeing the usually calm and collected Daigo so flustered encouraged her to suck harder and harder until
“Fuck Kura I'm cumming.” Daigo said in English but Sakura based on his body still got the message as he exploded into her mouth. She kept sucking to extend his orgasm for as long as possible. Daigo eventually had to pry her off of him. Sakura opened her mouth to reveal his load and she swallowed.
“Thank you for the meal,” she said luridly before wiping the drool off her cheek.
The action itself was enough to get Daigo hard again. He dropped his pants fully and ripped Sakura’s off before lining up his cock with her pussy. Sakura gave a sexy lip bite to Daigo driving him wild and he plunged into her. Her sodden pussy greedily accepted the intrusion. Daigo grunted as he bottomed out.
“You're such a slut you know that?” Daigo said with a virile vigor as he whispered huskily into Sakura’s ear. Slowly he pulled out of her. As he did he said, “We go on one date and you're on your knees demanding two loads.” sakura’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. Daigo slammed back into her sex hard sending a ripple through Sakura’s body. Daigo watched with Devilish glee as Sakura’s ass rippled.
“Oh fuck.” Sakura moaned
“Is that it? are you just a breeding bitch in heat needing your stud to fuck and breed you,” Daigo said.
Sakura moaned. Her body tensed around Daigo’s cock at the mention of being bred. She loved it. The thought of being claimed by and filled to the brim made her wetter and tighter.
Daigo thrust into her deeper “Do you like that? Does the thought of being my exclusive breeding bitch make you wet?” Daigo asked.
“Oh God yes. Please make me yours. Ruin all other cocks for me.” Sakura moaned
Watching Sakura’s body and her responses made something click for Daigo “Has my little Breeding bitch been with other cocks. Bad girl.” Daigo said as he smacked her jiggly ass. Sakura’s tone took on an even higher pitch.
“Ah fuck, Ah fuck.” she moaned as Daigo thrusts into her relentlessly he never increases his pace. He keeps the same constant slow in and out but the intensity of the thrust is what wrecks Kura as she nears her climax.
“Are you close?” Daigo asks. Sakura looks over her shoulder and nods.
“Ready to become my breeding bitch forever?” Daigo asks and Sakura nods again giving in to her body’s demands
“Yes ruin and stain my slutty pussy with your cum. All I'll be good for is breeding. Fill me. Make me yours.” Sakura screams before Daigo explodes in her pussy triggering Sakura’s orgasm. Daigo continues to fuck her through it. As Daigo drops more and more cum into Sakura’s cunt her orgasm high raises higher and higher. As their bodies continue a feral heat claims both of them as they continue fucking. Kura’s pussy begins to drip beneath them as Daigo continues to pound her sopping sex.
“Does my breeding bitch like her birthday gift,” Daigo asks with a noticeable lusted husk in his voice.
“Yes.” sakura moans unsatisfied. “I need more. Breed me again.”
“Such a greedy bitch. Do your other cocks make you feel this way?” Daigo questions.
Sakura’s body and mind were now Daigo’s, “no cock has ever claimed me like yours.” sakura said as Daigo kept ravaging her. Sakura’s words and body beginning to affect him as well. He was never this aggressive to a woman but something breeding and Kura activated something within him he didn't know he had, and it bonded him to her as much as she bonded to him.
“Fuck Kura your pussy is so tight.” Daigo praised, and Sakura was elated proud her stud liked her pussy so much.
“Don't you love the way my greedy pussy sucks in your cock.” Sakura said in a lusted daze
“Yeah, my breeding bitch has the best pussy.” Daigo’s unexpected words of praise and his ferocity sent Kura over the edge again and she came again. Gone was the talented, accomplished, confident, and dominant megastar. In her place a dumb submissive and breedable bitch who was a cum dump for her stud. It was liberating to her. Her anxiety washed away with each drop of cum as her thoughts only centered around being bred. She groaned as Daigo kept thrusting into her and he continued to claim her slutty pussy.
Her surprise orgasm however took her partner by surprise and led to him cumming in her again. Sakura’s greedy cunt readily accepted the baby batter, but the fatigue of their activities prior caught up to them and they collapsed onto Kura’s bed together side by side. As they basked in the post-orgasm glow and enjoyed the company of each other a sad realization hit Sakura causing her to pout. As Sakura pouted, Daigo took Notice
“What's wrong Kura?” Daigo asked concern filling his voice.
“Now I'm going to miss you and that dick of yours.” she lamented. Daigo chuckled.
“Well I don't know about that second part but we can still play together.” Sakura’s pout slightly faded before saying
“Okay, but the next time I see you I want the same treatment.”
“What am I your boyfriend now or something?” Daigo teased
“Yes. Yes, you are. As of now, you are my stud and I am your breeding bitch got it?” Sakura asserted
Unsure of how to respond Daigo said “Um okay” Sakura smiled happy to get good games, good food, and good dick for her birthday. With all her needs met she fell asleep in Daigo’s big arms
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crosshairlovebot · 3 months
Text
welcome home / hunter x f!reader
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pairing: hunter x f!reader
description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.
word count: 4,036
warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.
the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!
although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)
also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.
You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.
Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.
Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.
Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.
Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.
There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.
You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.
You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”
The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”
You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”
“I am.”
You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”
He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.
“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.
You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.
At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”
Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.
You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.
Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.
His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”
Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”
The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.
You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.
“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.
“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”
“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.
“Good.”
Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.
He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.
You had missed him too, after all.
Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.
“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.
“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.
You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”
He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”
You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.
You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.
“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.
Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.
Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.
You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.
His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.
You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.
Exhausted, but never for you.
He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.
He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.
He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.
Hunter was nothing if not thorough.
“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.
“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.
“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.
You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.
“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.
Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.
“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”
“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.
Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.
Was this man really yours?
He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.
You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.
“Been too long,” he whispered.
“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.
“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.
Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.
You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.
“Hunter—”
Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”
Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.
Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.
Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.
“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."
It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.
When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.
Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.
He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.
“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.
He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.
You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.
“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.
“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.
“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.
You chuckled. “You smell like me.”
“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”
You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”
“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”
You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.
“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”
“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.
“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.
“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.
You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”
Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.
You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”
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banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!
🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook
TAGLIST FORM
if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.
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thekissofaphrodite · 27 days
Note
Can you maybe do Clarisse x fem! Child of Hypnos?? I don’t think I’ve seen anything of that dynamic and I’d like to see how you would write it!
OKAY. IM ACTUALLY RLLY EXCITED ABT THIS SINCE JUST LIKE ANON SAID, I'VE NEVER SEEN A DYNAMIC LIKE IT BEFOREE.
Sweet Dreams
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Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Hypnos!Reader
Summary: A shared moment with clarrise with a flick of your finger.
Warnings: Hypnokinesis, people passing out and language
Author's note: Okay, I'm actually tired of some writers portraying a child of hypnos who likes to sleep... yeah, sure, their dad is the God of sleep, but that doesn't mean they just slump on their bed and snore away! They're also powerful! If you read the books !SPOILER ALERT! Hypnos literally knocked an entire city to sleep before the battle of Manhattan for Kronos. Why can't we portray his children like that? 🤨 No hate! Just speaking facts <33
CHILDREN OF HYPNOS DESERVES SOME RECOGNITION!! (coming from cabin 7)
——
You missed your girlfriend so much.
She was in archery and capture the flag today, but you two barely got enough time to run to each other before she was bombarded by tasks from Chiron.
You saw the way her eyes would soften from afar, giving you a discreet sympathetic look while she went on a rampage on her siblings ready to stab them into kebabs using her spear. But she knew you'd find a way to get to her, she always knew.
and you always do.
It wasn't long before every camper eventually dozed off after a fun sing-a-long around the campfire, singing their hearts out about their godly parent, minus a Demeter Girl complaining about getting a fern for her birthday instead of a car like all her friends.
So here you are, pulling your night robe closer as you impatiently wait for your father to caress Clarisse's siblings to sleep so you can have a moment with her.
But your father was taking way too long.
you have been hiding behind the cabin for hours, Listening to the unpleasant way the swords and spears of the Ares cabin got sharpened and big boisterous faces laughing at eachother. Clarisse was in her bunk, her arms crossed with a seemingly frowning expression. Every laughter made by her siblings made her more and more annoyed.
Every minute that passed made you more agitated until you finally snapped.
You stood behind the cabin and held your hands, focusing on the heartbeats and every breath that they exhaled, The sound around you became indistinct and fuzzy, the time seemed to slow down. A translucent light smoke seemed to snake inside the Cabin before it swirled around Clarisse' siblings, it took a few moments before their eyelids got heavy, their breathing ragged. And sure enough, there was a soft thud where their body fell.
It took you by surprise. It also snapped Clarisse out of her thoughts. Seeing her siblings who were talking lively minutes ago dozing off turned her off, She stood up alarmingly, ready to fend herself to any attacks of intruder.
When she saw you, her tense body softened, the beam on your face was a little unreadable, but she couldn't help but smile.
You ran and threw yourself into her arms, she caught you easily, carrying your weight like nothing.
"I did it, Clar!" You squealed, Clalrisse looked at you, confused.
"Did what, Baby?"
"My father finally blessed me! I get to use my powers, i can't believe this, did you see?!" You were babbling like a baby, words being thrown at her in hyperplaps, but she listened, never letting you go in her arms. She listened and remembered everything.
Like the time you were sobbing in her arms, after multiple failed attempts on praying to your father, it hurt her. She remembered when she used to devote herself to Ares, offering him big chunk of brisket and the freshest strawberries on her plate, just for him to answer her prayer, but it never worked, until finally he had enough of her, and gifted Clarisse a spear to shut her up.
But seeing you happy for finally being able to have powers, she felt something inside her change.
Clarisse tightened her arms around you, placing her nose to your hair, inhailing your scent.
"I'm proud of you" she pulled away and placed her hand against your cheek. She was slowly analyzing the color of your eyes, carefully studying each and every details your face had, then she slowly reached to your lips, the color was a mix of peach and pink, assuming it was from the lipgloss, but it looks so deliciously kissable right now.
Her hands reached the back of your head and before you know it, her lips were against yours, an arm wrapped around your waist while pulling you close.
"I love you, did you know that?" Clarisse whispered on your lips, "i doubt it" You laughed, falling over Clarisse' soft bunk bed as she kissed you once more.
An extra for you guys since i disappeared too long :>
——
There were soft groans and mumbles coming from Clarisse' siblings, it was already 3:46 am.
"What happened?" Asked Sherman while rubbing his temple.
Clarisse rolled her eyes at her brother, Sherman, glancing at their weapons leaned against their bunk.
"Nothing, i guess you two spent way too long gossiping that your eyes eventually took it themselves and took a rest" she said, Clarisse was trying not to grin at her siblings, knowing well that it was all her girlfriend's doing.
"Huh... what did you do when we're out then?" One of her brothers, Ellis asked.
"The usual, inspection and lights out"
"Really?" Both brothers said in unison.
"Yes, don't look at me like I'm lying, unless you want a spear up your ass" Clarisse snapped, rolling over and hugging her pillow to sleep.
Both brother looked at eachother and quietly snickered, i guess they'll keep hush about that peach and pink lipgloss smudge near clarisse' neck.
And they'll definitely tell the others tomorrow.
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silent-stories · 1 year
Text
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟐
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Eddie finally works up the courage to talk to you again and he's not disappointed.
Part 1
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"I'm sorry, I won't." You repeated for about the hundredth time as you placed some brushes in a jar and then on a shelf.
The lesson had been over for a few minutes and your classmates were getting ready to finally leave.
Aaron rolled his eyes as he washed his hands at the sink located in the corner of the art classroom, watching the water wash the red paint off his hands, coloring the liquid as it descended.
It almost looked like blood.
"Your parents won't be home for two days. Two fucking days, Y/N. And you don't want to have a party?" He turned to you with his usual smile he used when trying to get someone to do what he wanted.
It was not going to work with you.
"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not really one for parties." You shrugged.
Aaron had spent all of class trying to get you to throw a party on Saturday night since your parents were away for the weekend, your house was big, and you had a pool.
Aaron insisted. "But it will be fun. We can invite your friends, Jason and his team and-"
"Aaron, c'mon. Even if I had this stupid party, I wouldn't invite those people."
They were the last people you wanted to see at school, let alone invite them to a party.
"What's wrong with Jason? He's been one of the first people I've talked to since I moved here, besides you, and he's a really cool guy."
You liked Aaron, you had met him a week ago when he asked if you knew where the art class was and you had accompanied him, saying you were going there too, but sometimes he would say things that would skyrocket your want to slap him.
Over the next few days you'd gotten closer and closer and you'd noticed how most of the girls – and even some of the boys – watched Aaron at school.
He was new and that equaled interesting, he was blond and green-eyed, which for many cheerleaders equaled cute.
You also suspected that many of them were jealous that he was spending so much time with you instead of them.
Anyway, you didn't like him that way, of course you had to admit that he respected the canons of beauty to which people paid attention, but there were things more important than how symmetrical someone's face was.
"Cool? Do you want me to make you a list of all the reasons why I don't like that asshoke? He's selfish, obnoxious, vain, a bully....should I go on?" You crossed your arms over your chest.
"Nah, I'd like to listen to all your reasons but I have to go, honey. I'm going out with Jason and his friends later." He said running his fingers through his blond curls.
You raised your eyebrows, still hoping you misunderstood what he said.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I told you, they're cool guys."
"Like a stick up your ass."
Aaron burst out laughing. "Y/N, c'mon!"
"What? It's true!"
Aaron shook his head before grabbing his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, okay?"
He smiled at you as he usually did, showing his perfect white teeth and rested a hand on your arm for a few seconds.
His smile was sometimes frighteningly reminiscent of Billy Hargrove's.
One thing you couldn't stand was the way he was always touching you. One arm around your shoulders, one hand on yours or your arm.
It always seemed like something too intimate, like the way he called you "honey" all the time, but you thought maybe it was your problem.
"Yeah, bye." You placed the last rags covered in color stains in their appropriate drawer.
"And think about the party!" He yelled before walking out the door, leaving you alone in the classroom.
"I won't!"
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Eddie lingered in front of art class, watching some students leave after the last bell of the day rang and wondering why he suddenly had no idea how to start a conversation.
The last one to leave the class was the boy he had seen you with the day before, the one Dustin said was Aaron and that he wasn't your boyfriend.
As he walked out of the classroom, his gaze briefly met Eddie's, who was leaning back against the wall thinking about what he could do or what he could talk about with you.
And that look, it was definitely not the look of the nice guy next door who brings you cake as soon as he moves next to your house and offers to mow your lawn.
It was Jason's same look, it was the look of everyone who looked at Eddie as if he were trash.
It was the look of everyone who was sure Eddie was the leader of a satanic cult that no one would want anything to do with.
It was the same look as everyone who referred to him as a "freak."
Just the thought of you spending your time with that guy made Eddie think he had no chance with you and that he'd better go home and try to get over you. As if it was possible.
Suddenly, Eddie found himself alone in the hallway and for a moment he thought that you too had left the classroom and that he, too immersed in his thoughts, hadn't even noticed.
But no, it wasn't possible, he always noticed you.
He reached the threshold of the door and finally saw you, intent on moving a canvas in the corner of the room, on your hands there were still some traces of color that not even the water had managed to sweep away.
"Need a hand?" Eddie asked, surprising even himself.
You whirled on him, probably startled by the sudden voice but when you saw him, you smiled and Eddie almost forgot how to breathe.
"No, it's okay. I'm done. What are you doing here?" You asked as you grabbed a book off a table and stuffed it into your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards him.
What was he doing there?
He wanted to see you, he wanted to hear the sound of your laugh and talk to you about any topic that crossed your mind because he was undoubtedly in love with you but too cowardly to tell you.
"Henderson told me you were here and I thought I'd come by and say hi."
He hoped it didn't sound stupid.
"Well, hi." You laughed as you walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind you.
Eddie watched you take a few steps ahead of you in the hallway before you turned to him.
"Are you coming or not?"
"Yeah, sure." He hastened to catch up with you.
"Today I'm walking home. This morning I woke up earlier than usual and it was sunny so I didn't use my car. Would you like to... walk me home?"
Eddie glanced at you to meet your sincere, hopeful expression.
"I don't live very far from here, don't worry." You added.
"Yeah, yes. Of course." He answered quickly, already kicking himself for letting you think that he didn’t want to go with you. He would have wanted even if you lived on the other side of the world.
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You felt good spending time with Eddie.
You didn't quite know what it was but you felt the same sensation you felt when you sat in front of a fireplace in winter with a blanket on your legs and a book in your hands.
It was a feeling of calm and tranquility. You felt like you were really being listened to when you talked about the things you liked, that you weren't judged and you simply felt safe when you were with him.
It wasn't the same feeling you had when you were with Aaron. It was not even close.
Before you rounded the corner in the hallway, Eddie heard voices talking to each other.
"Wait, um-" Eddie didn't know how to say it. "There's  someone. It's okay if you don't want to be seen with me."
It was like a reflex, a habit. No one wanted to be seen with him other than the Hellfire kids and his friends in his band.
His words hit you like a knife and your heart started bleeding for that sweet boy you barely knew.
All those years he'd spent being treated like he didn't deserve to, like no one would ever deserve, like a freak, had made him think that no one would want to be seen even to talk to him.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair for all of Hawkings to judge a person they didn't even know for who he really were.
"It's okay, Eddie." You you reassured him as you rounded the corner, finding two cheerleaders talking to each other.
And Eddie, hearing your simple words, for a moment really thought that everything was okay. That there was no social barrier to divide you, that you were really friends and that he had the possibility to become something more for you one day.
He also liked the way his name sounded when you said it.
As you walked down the hallway, Eddie suddenly felt your fingers brush his and when he realized it wasn't by mistake, your hand had already met his and you intertwined your fingers with his.
Strangely, Eddie didn't catch his breath or start sweating like he did whenever you were even near him.
He wasn't even nervous anymore. But he smiled.
He felt as if someone had lifted a weight off his chest and now he could breathe easier, as if with your hand in his everything could really be fine.
When you passed the cheerleaders your hand was still holding his, stready, secure, not letting go.
When you got out of school you kept talking all the way home and every time Eddie heard the sound of your laugh he wished he could record it so he could listen to it whenever he wanted as if it was his favorite song.
You only let go of his hand when you arrived in front of your house.
"And then I told my uncle that I'd found a job, but I actually sat on the sidewalk every day downtown and played my guitar with a hat on the ground hoping someone would leave me a dollar." Eddie finished, noting that he was talking to you about personal facts that few other people knew about.
"If I had known, I would have come and left you a few bucks, you know." You commented.
"I was twelve, Y/N. So you were ten. I don't think you had much money to waste at that time." He laughed.
"When I was a kid I had ice cream almost every day. I could have given you my ice cream money."
Eddie smiled. "Would you have given up your daily ice cream for me?"
"For you, that and more" You chuckled as you opened the gate to your house. "Thanks for walking me home." You added.
"Anytime, I like hanging out with you." Eddie still didn't understand where he had found all that courage.
One corner of your mouth curled up. "I like it too."
"See you at school, then?" He asked.
"See you at school, Eddie." You repead before disappearing behind the door of your house.
He stood there for a few more moments, even getting a glare from your neighbor watering the flowers in her garden.
When he said 1986 was going to be his year, maybe he'd been right.
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Part 3
I thought I'd write a part 2 and stop but... I kinda like this. Maybe a little series will come out of this?
Who asked to be tagged in the second part will also be tagged in all the other parts so if you want to be removed, let me know <3
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat
Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee
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k3n-dyll · 1 month
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On A High [Sevika Drabble]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
Masterlist | Divider Creds | Palestine Links!!
CW: 18+, wlw, not proofread, dom!Sevika x fem!reader, oral (S!recieving), drug usage (Shimmer), squirting
A/N: "You've written a drabble and a fic about Sevika fucking readers face and squirting all over it already!" Hey, maybe it's time to consider I'm projecting my desires onto you! Hope this helps! <3
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Sevika, high on a more experimental dose of Shimmer, pushing you down to the floor of her office because she can't force herself to wait any longer. Her flesh hand is wrapped in a tight fist around your hair as she shoves your face into her pussy without much regard for your airway. Ever since she injected it, she's been heated, and taking down the dumbasses that had tried to smuggle a supply of the glowing purple liquid drug out of the factory to sell for themselves wasn't enough to calm her down.
She was just meant to be testing it out. It was a much smaller dose than she normally takes - barely half a vial, and yet she can still practically feel her own blood coursing at rapid speed through her veins. Each muscle in her body feels tense, the tips of her fingers are buzzing and it's all she can do to not start clawing at your scalp just to push your face harder against her dripping cunt, guttural grunts and moans escaping her throat through bared teeth
"C'mon baby, there you go....fuckin' take it, jus' like that" "Look so good strugglin' to breathe - fuck"
You try your absolute best to keep up with her, but her thrusts lack a true rhythm, her hips bucking back and forth against your tongue, which you eventually just leave flat and tense on the surface of your bottom lip. Deep down she knows she's probably hurting you a little, and she can hear how much of a struggle you're having in your attempts to take a full breath but she can't stop herself if she tried, and she knows how much you like being used.
"My little fuckin' toy, aren't you?" She taunts from above, her brows knit together in almost anger the longer it takes her to just fucking cum already. Though it hasn't been much longer than it normally takes, it feels like it's been an eternity to the point where she's on the brink of tears. The irritation only makes her go harder, sliding her cunt against you, forcing your nose to bump up so nicely against her puffy, impatient clit over and over again.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon, fuck, please"
Of course, the first time you hear the woman break down and beg for something is when she isn't even begging you. Instead, she's just begging her own body to let her get there. There's no sense of broken pride within her, no feeling of lost dignity, just the insatiable need to let go.
And when she does, it's fucking explosive.
Her thighs shake, then tense up hard on either side of your head, abs flexing, toes curling against the floor. She can barely keep herself upright, her wobbling forcing you to bring your hands up to her ass to help her stay in place. Sevika isn't normally a loud one but at the moment she can't help it, damn near whimpering in pure ecstasy as her juices squirt out all over your face in light bursts.
Sevika looks down at you, breathing still ragged and heavy and she just laughs watching the makeup run down your wet face. Her grip loosens around your hair and her irises transition back to their normal silver tint as she calms down, breathing out a sigh of utter relief as she feels her once tense and overwhelmed muscles relax.
Her body officially gives out, flopping down on her desk chair, taking a moment to gather herself before lazily patting her still twitching thigh.
"C'mere, let's get you cleaned up, hm?"
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Wanted to put out more Arcane stuff since I feel like I've been more focused on my TLOU girlies lately
Reblogs are appreciated | Taglist: @archangeldyke-all, @delinthecut @sevsbaby, @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery
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heeliopheelia · 8 months
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"everything reminds me of you and it's driving me insane" (jay x fem! reader)
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genre: smut word count: 0.7k requested by @forjongseong ♡
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
a/n: the last fic for the event!! i had so much fun guys, will definitely do it again once we hit another milestone!! nana babe i'm sorry it took me so long 🤍
masterlist
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The floor is already drenched when Jay pulls out his thick fingers out of you. Letting go of his firm grip on your hips, he pulls away slightly to smirk at your trembling thighs as you struggle to keep yourself up on your feet.
"Fuck!" You gasp breathlessly, fingers clutching on the edge of the marble kitchen counter for your dear life.
If somebody told you that this is how the party would end – with your ex boyfriend fingering you stupid in the apartment that the two of you used to share together, you doubt you'd ever believe them... Or maybe you would?
With the way your heart increased three times on its pace when you first saw Jay after almost half a year of being deprived from his ridiculously handsome face – it's actually quite obvious you'd bend to every will of the man you're still shamefully in love with.
Even though you were the one who initiated the break up in the first place.
"Couldn't wait to get my hands on you, sweetheart," Jay mutters, closing the distance between the two of you again and grabbing you by your waist to pull you flush to his clothed bulge.
"Oh, really?" You scoff quietly, fingers brushing the sweaty hair away from your forehead as you turn your head to him over your shoulder. "Could've fooled me with this bitch hanging on your neck the entire night."
"No need to be so jealous. She could never be you," he chuckles underneath his breath and before you know his pants and underwear are dropped to the floor and he rubs his hard cock over your swollen folds. You moan simultaneously when he finally slides it inside of you, bottoming out slowly. Jay's knees feel as if made of cotton when he feels you clenching around him and now he's damn sure that you were literally molded just for him. "Missed this pussy so much," he breathes out, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
He's got you caged in between his arms and the counter as his deep thrusts rock your body into the cold surface. You're already dizzy from the two previous orgasms you've had couple minutes before, and now as you listen to his ragged breaths into your neck, all of your senses are completely blocked out in the favor of him.
The way he fucks you is so messy, so needy and it's thrilling and it's so Jay that you can't help but let your tongue run loose and spill your guts to him right then and there.
"There hasn't been a day that I didn't think about you. Everything reminds me of you and it's driving me insane. Even that stupid orchid I've seen on my way back home in a flower shop today," you confess breathlessly, voice stuttering with every thrust of his. Jay immediately catches the reference to your second date when he bought you the pink flower you desired so much. "We were so good together, weren't we, Jay?"
He groans, grabbing your hips a little firmer. "Shit, that we were, sweetheart."
Your abused hole squelches and drips after each time he bottoms out and you let out a whimper, body draping over the counter as you grip the wooden cupboard with your shaky hand. The sound only spurs him on to fuck you even harder, better, his eyes clenching tightly as he relishes in your small whines of his name. His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as he draws his body into you from behind, panting loudly and pushing you even further into the counter.
When your walls tighten nearly painfully around him, that's when he knows your third orgasm begins to build up. He snaps his hips faster and with you calling his name over and over again, you eventually let go and feel the hot pleasure swallow your tired body again.
It's impossible for him to last any longer with you falling apart before him, your doughy cunt throbbing around him mercilessly, and Jay cums hard, body slouching on top of yours as he holds you tightly with face pressed to your neck.
And maybe, just maybe you're not the only one who's been having a hard time moving on from your irrational decision all these months ago.
And you're sure of that when you feel his arms turning your body around, eyes looking softly into yours before he pulls on your chin and plants a hungry kiss on your wet lips.
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permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth
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punishereditz · 1 year
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Falling Apart
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Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader
Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Shower sex. Rough sex. Dirty talk. Teasing. Edging. Overstimulation. Oral. Hand-job. Fingering. Choking kink. Spanking kink. Begging kink. Praise kink. Unprotected sex. P in V. (Wrap it before you tap it.)
AN: Giggling and kicking my feet.
Summary: You've been teasing Jake in the shower, until he decided he has had enough and gives you a taste of your own medicine.
~
Jake had been slowly trying to work his way into the shower with you. He started by coming and just sitting in the room with you, which only lasted about two minutes before he had his shirt off and was jumping in with you and you don't mind. Your honestly shocked that he took that much time.
But once he was in the shower with you, he wasted absolutely no more time. His hands went to your waist. Running his hands along your wet hot skin. With your back to him, he looked down at your ass and the tan line you had from being out in the sun all day.
He grabbed the rag, soaping it up, he started from the top of your shoulders and worked his way down, washing all the sand away. Once he was done with the back. He turned you around so that you are facing him. He started from the bottom, making sure to not miss one inch of skin, when he looked up at you, he saw you already looking down at him, smiling. A look on your face that he knows all too well and loves.
Instead of looking away, he kept that eye contact with you. Running the rag over your thighs. He got to your waist, rubbing your skin, when he got to your breast and started massaging them, he kept his eyes on yours. A grin growing on his lips.
A gasp escaped your lips. Your eyes closing. He moved you under the water, putting the rug away, He moved his hands along your skin. Washing all the soap away. He stepped forward. Backing you up against the shower wall. His hands going to your breast, but you moved his hands away from you. Kissing him. You start running your hands down his body. Over his chest, his abs, lightly squeezing his ass. Touching every part of his body that you could get your hands on. You took his cock in your hand. Beginning to slowly pump it. He pulls away from your kiss, groaning, his eyes closing. One hand going to the shower wall and the other gripping your hip.
Your smile grows. Your hand starting to move a little faster. He cusses under his breath. Thrusting his hips up in your hand. Trying to get you to move even faster, but you keep that steady pace.
"Look at you..." You speak. Your voice lustful. "I've hardly touched you and you're falling apart." You tease him. Tilting your head to try and look at him, but he keeps his eyes closed. His head down.
"Oh, fuck." He groans. Looking up at you. You know exactly what you're doing. You know that your words get to him. Drive him crazy. You know that Jake enjoys getting his way, but he loses all his control when he is with you. That only you will not let him get his way and make him beg for it.
Only you being able to get him so flustered. Continuing that slow pace. Rubbing your thumb over the tip of his cock. Going just slow enough that you keep him on the edge. Speeding up your hand, then when you know he is getting close, you slow down. Making him groan in frustration, squirming under you. Desperate for his climax that you keep building and building over and over again.
"Please," He moans. You bite your lip. Looking at what a panting mess he is. You wonder how far you want to take it. How much you want to push at his buttons.
"Hm? What was that?" You hum.
"Please." He repeats himself.
"Is this what you want?" You pump his cock faster. Lightly squeezing it. Your thumb rubbing the head. He tries to respond but can't find his words. His grip on your side tightening to the point your sure it will bruise later.
"Tell me what you want. Do you want to come in my mouth? My pussy?" He only groans. Thrusting up in your hand. You slow down again.
"I would decide quickly." You know he is seconds away from coming. That he isn't going to last much longer.
"Don't stop. Keep going, uh, just like that sweetheart." He grunts. Looking down at his cock that is leaking with pre-cum. Your strokes making his cock twitch and throb.
He hides his face in your neck. Grunting and moaning into your skin. Pulling you closer to him. Holding onto you tightly. Your name falling from his lips repeatedly as his climax hits him. Shooting his hot cum all over your stomach. Painting your body with his release. He leans up, tilting his head down to capture your mouth in his as he comes down from his high. His tongue playing with yours.
His grip on your side loosens. His unsteady breathing starting to come back to normal. You let go of his cock, cupping his face and leaning into him to deepen the kiss.
His hand sneaks up your back and into your hair. Lightly pulling at it. He pulls away. His hands wondering over your silk body. He places open mouth kisses over your shoulders and your breast. Biting at your hardened nipples as he works his way down. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he licks his mess up.
You looked down at him memorized. His eyes glisten with sin. He leans back up. Looking down at you. His smirk growing as his hands move over the outsides of your thighs. He keeps moving them until his hand is resting on your heat that is soaked. Your clit throbbing. Becoming desperate for his touch.
He dips his fingers in your folds. His finger adding light pressure to your clit. Your back arches, your hips jolting in response to his touch. He steady's you with his free hand. His fingers moving away from your clit and sliding down to your entrance. Pushing his fingers in and curling them up. Making you moan. Your hands going to his broad shoulders.
He continues to curl his fingers up, his thumb finding its way up to your clit. Rubbing circles on it, moving in sync with his fingers. He watches as you lose it. Your walls clenching around him and your moans getting louder as you become more needy. He knows you're getting close. He can tell by the way you're trying to buck your hips and how your grip is getting tighter on his shoulders. So, he slows his fingers down to a torturing pace. Moving his thumb away from your clit completely.
"Did you really think I was going to let you off easy sweetheart?" His voice is teasing. Chuckling at you as you groan in frustration. Moving your hips down on his fingers, but the more you do, the more he pulls his fingers away from you. Now he was the one seeing how far he wanted to press your buttons.
"What was it you said... 'I've hardly touched you and you're falling apart'?" He uses your own words against you.
"You're an asshole." You moan. Looking up into those mischievous green eyes.
"You love me." His smile is wide. His fingers starting to work faster. His thumb going back to your clit. He keeps working your climax back up. Waiting until you're a moaning mess, waiting until the last second before he pulls his hand away from you. Making you whine.
He grabs you by the hips. Pulling you against his body. His cock pressing against your thigh. Already hard and throbbing again. He turns you around. Your back to him, he grabs your hands, placing them up on the shower wall. He then, places his hands back on your hips, pulling your ass back against his hips, then he spreads your legs. Positioning you just how he wants.
He hums. His hands rubbing up and down your back. He slaps your ass. The sound of the clap echoing in the room. He leans forward, "I'm not done with you yet. It's about time I taught you a lesson." He whispers in your ear.
He leans back up. His hands massaging your ass. Occasionally spanking you before he took his cock in his hand. Guiding it between your folds. Wetting his cock with your juices. The head teasing your clit, making you gasp. Without warning, he shoves his cock in you. Your head falling forward, your walls clenching around him, moaning his name.
He gives you no time to adjust to his size. Immediately pounding into you. His hips thrusting up into yours. The sound of skin to skin filling the quit room. He holds your hips steady. Cussing under his breath as he looks down. Watching his cock slip in and out of you. Your walls clenching around him, and he groans with each harsh thrust back into you.
"That's it, that's it sweetheart. Are you going to be my good girl? Hm?" He speaks through grunts. His thrust getting faster and harder. Making it impossible for you to pull your thoughts together to answer.
His hand moves up your body and to your shoulder. Pulling your body up and pressing your back to his front. His hand going up to your neck. The new angle overwhelming.
"I want to hear you say it. Let me hear that pretty little mouth." He grunts into your ear.
"I'm your good girl." You say through moans. Your hand going to the back of his neck. Tugging at his hair. Your eyes closing shut, your moans getting louder. His grunts in your ear, his hand lightly squeezing your throat, his cock pounding into you, it's all overwhelming. Your climax building back up again and ten times stronger than before.
"I'm so close." He keeps the unholy pace. Kissing your neck before whispering in your ear. "Come for me sweet girl."
You do just that. Milking his cock with your climax, moaning his name as you come. His thrusts starting to get sloppy as he reaches his own climax again. Filling your cunt up with his come. He starts to slow down. His hand moving away from your throat. He slowly pulls out. Both of you moaning. He watches as a mix of his and yours cum run down your legs. Mixing with the water.
You turn around. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. You both quickly finish washing off. The water getting cold.
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itsmealaiah · 2 months
Text
"Not your fault"
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TW: angry bill, yelling, rough sex, p in v, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, cock-stroking, slight profanity, doggystyle fucking, ass slapping, bill being mean, bill switching up within seconds
Rating: mature themes, 18+, mdni
Request: 2010 or 2011 Dom!Bill where he comes home Really mad and we/im His Girlfriend and he lets All his anger out on Us With dirty talk and stuff Yk and hes REALLY Really Rough..🥰 (Do it if Youre comfortable Honey💋❤)
WC: 0.8k
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The air crackles with tension as you hear the key in the door, the familiar jingle of his belt as he throws his jacket carelessly across the room. You hold your breath, anticipating the explosion of anger that is sure to follow. It must've been one of those days for Bill, the kind where even the smallest things can set him off. You curl up on the couch, nervously wringing your hands, waiting for him to storm in.
When he finally does, it's like a whirlwind of fury and frustration. His eyes are blazing, his jaw clenched tight. He paces back and forth across the room, muttering incoherently under his breath. You can't help but feel a shiver of fear run down your spine as you watch him pace, his muscles tense and ready to spring into action.
You swallow hard, trying to steady your nerves. "hi," you manage to croak out. "What's wrong baby?"
Bill's eyes snap to you, and he storms over, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. "Don't you 'baby' me!" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "I've had the worst day ever, and I'm not in the mood for your shit!" He shakes you hard, making you gasp for breath.
Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the pain in your shoulders. "I'm sorry," you whisper. "I didn't mean to make it worse."
Bill's grip softens slightly, but he doesn't let go. "Well, you did," he snaps. "And I need someone to take it out on!" He yells, throwing his fists up into the air. "You know what? Forget it. Just go to the bedroom. Get on the bed. Face down."
Shaking, you hurry to obey. As you enter the bedroom, you hear him slamming things around in the living room, his anger seemingly unabated. You climb onto the bed, feeling the soft sheets beneath your trembling body. A moment later, he storms in, his face still twisted in anger. Without a word, he yanks your pants down, baring your ass to him.
He growls in approval, his hands running over your flesh. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you still as he roughly spanks you. The sting is sharp, but it's nothing compared to the thrill of knowing that he's angry with you. You let out a moan, partly from the pain and partly from the desire to make it better.
He continues to spank you, his rhythm growing faster and harder. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your need for release becoming more urgent. "That's it," he snarls, his voice rough. "Let me hear you."
You moan louder, arching your back as he hits you harder. "Please, Bill," you whimper. "Please make it better." His fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as he continues to spank you, the sting growing more intense with each slap. You can feel the heat spreading across your ass, making you even more aware of your body and your desire for him.
Finally, he stops, his breath ragged and hot against your ear. "Get on your knees," he growls. You do as he says, crawling forward until you're kneeling between his legs. He's already hard, his cock straining against his pants. You reach out, wrapping your hands around him, feeling the heat and strength of him in your palms. He groans, arching his back as you begin to stroke him. "That's it," he murmurs, his eyes closing briefly. "c'mon baby."
You obey, moving your hands up and down his length, feeling the velvety smoothness of his skin beneath your fingers. His hips begin to buck, urging you on, and you match his rhythm, stroking him faster and harder. The muscles in his abdomen tense and relax, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"That's it," he groans. "That's my good girl." His voice is thick with desire as he watches you stroke him. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He reaches down, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you up onto the bed. Your back arches as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself inside you.
The feeling of being filled is overwhelming, and you cry out, arching your back to meet his thrusts. He growls in approval, his hands roaming over your body, cupping your breasts and digging into your hips. His movements grow more urgent, more desperate, as he takes what he wants from you.
You can feel the tension building inside, the need for release growing more and more intense. "Bill!," you gasp, "I'm close."
He picks up the pace, his movements becoming more frenzied. "Cum for me," he growls. "Cum on my cock." The words send a shiver down your spine, and with a cry of ecstasy, you come, your body shuddering around him. He follows close behind, his thrusts becoming jerky and harsh as he releases himself into you.
He collapses on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed. His breath comes out ragged and hot against your neck. "God, I needed that," he murmurs, already beginning to relax. "Sorry for losing my temper."
You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling the soft strands tickle your fingertips. "It's okay," you whisper.
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Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers
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strlingsav · 1 year
Note
hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*
Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀
Always
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.
Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
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It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.
It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.
You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".
It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.
Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.
Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.
"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.
"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"
"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.
"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."
"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."
"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.
You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.
"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."
His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.
"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.
You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.
"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."
"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."
You grinned.
Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."
You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.
Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.
"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."
You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.
"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."
You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.
"Here," He handed you the second.
You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.
He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.
It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.
Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.
You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.
You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.
You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.
It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.
It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.
"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.
You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.
"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.
"Fuck off, Johnny."
"You're a mean drunk, kid."
"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."
Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.
"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.
"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.
You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.
You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.
"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."
"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.
"Bullshit," You grinned.
He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.
"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.
"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.
"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.
"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."
You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.
"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."
"Not when you're pissed," He commented.
You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.
"You're pissed," He nodded.
"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."
"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.
"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."
He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"
"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.
He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.
"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.
"It's nothin'." He looked amused.
"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.
"Far from it."
You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.
"I've never seen that side of you."
"No reason to."
"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."
Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.
"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.
He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.
He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.
"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.
He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.
"Think you've had enough for the night."
He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.
"Maybe," You nodded.
Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.
"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."
You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.
You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.
Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.
You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.
You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.
"I'm over there," You pointed.
"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."
You frowned, "Fair point."
As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.
Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.
You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.
"Here," He said, holding them out to you.
"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.
He nodded.
You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.
"Thank you."
"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.
You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.
His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.
"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.
You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.
"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."
He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.
"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.
He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."
"Why not?" You asked.
"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."
"Stop thinking for once," You teased.
He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.
"If only," He replied.
"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.
You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.
"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.
You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.
"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."
"You're my responsibility."
Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?
"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."
"For you, yeah."
Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.
You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.
"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."
"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.
"Why?"
He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.
"Think you know."
He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.
"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.
His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."
You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.
You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.
"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.
He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.
His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.
You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.
"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.
You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.
He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.
He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.
He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.
In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.
He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.
"Y'look good in my shirt."
A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.
You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.
You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.
You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.
"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.
Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.
"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.
He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.
He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.
His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.
"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.
"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."
You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.
It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.
"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."
"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.
His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.
"God, Simon."
"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.
You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.
You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.
He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.
You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.
"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."
Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.
He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.
"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."
"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.
His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.
"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."
"Simon," You whispered.
His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.
"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.
"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."
"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.
"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."
You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.
He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.
He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.
"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."
Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.
He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.
"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.
He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."
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hwasoup · 3 months
Text
Tale As Old As Time
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art credit: marbipa
hii guuyys its soup !! what a crazy week it has been. I have a class where my group is shit except for 3 ppl and i've been really excited for spring break. Talking about spring break, after this update I wont be updating until after my spring break, However that doesn't mean i might release little mini stories that take place during this chapter !! I will still be active, juuust not writing as much. spring break for me ends on March 17th so be on the lookout for an update during that week !!
for this chapter I took some actual lines and dialouge from a book and sonnet !!
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warnings: pure fluff if you're allergic to it and maybe a little smexy thoughts, and some evil planning
words: 3.3k
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Chapter 5: A Second Chance
After arriving back at the castle…
Miguel is taken all the way to his room where he could rest and heal from his wounds. Y/N peeked inside his room worried but was shut out by Lyla who softly told her that Miguel is currently having his room cleaned up. Y/N nodded as she waited outside. 
After what seemed to be an hour, Y/N peeked back inside with a cloth and some hot water in a bucket. She noticed how his room is tidier and much cleaner from the original state from what it was. She thought that maybe, the Beast was too embarrassed for her to enter his room in such a grave state. Lyla hopped in the room besides Y/N and led him to the bed where Miguel was laying. Everyone was huddled by the bed with worried faces as they hoped for Miguel to feel better. Miguel on the other hand was still a bit grumpy and in pain as he was licking his own wounds. Y/N with a small sigh picked up a stool and sat right beside the bed and placed the rag into the hot water. She then picked it up and squeezed it to remove any excess water. “Here, and stop licking that you’ll only infect it further...” she says softly as she approaches him. Miguel looked at her and snarled a bit, Y/N sighed, and she grabbed his arm and placed the wet rag on the wound. Miguel roared loudly in pain and yelled at her “COÑO THAT HURTS” 
“Well if you didn’t move so much then It wouldn’t have hurt!” 
“WELL IF YOU DIDN’T RUN AWAY, THIS WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED”
“WELL IF YOU DIDN’T FRIGHTEN ME, I WOULDN’T HAVE RAN AWAY” 
Miguel opened his mouth but then stopped as she did have a point. “W-WELL, YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE TO THE WEST WING” he smirks to himself as he thinks that he got the final word. “WELL YOU SHOULD LEARN TO HOLD YOUR TEMPER!” Miguel’s smirk dropped from that statement; she also had a point too.
Miguel eventually gave up as he dropped his arm for her to treat him. He did have to admit, it felt nice being cared for by someone. He growled again as he felt the heat and sting from the wet rag go back on his arm. Y/N looked at him and softly said “sorry if it stings a bit…” Miguel simply had to hold in his growls as he felt the hot water from the rag permeate his wounds. Y/N eventually looked at him and whispered “by the way… gracias ..por salvar mi vida…” Miguel was surprised and even felt touched for her appreciation. He didn’t know what to call the emotion, but he liked it. He turned to look at her with kind eyes “you’re welcome...” 
After a while, Miguel fell asleep and Y/N slowly walked out of his room along with the others who were watching their interactions. Y/N turns around and crouches a little as she hears Miles say “Thank you…we’re grateful for you helping him..” 
Y/N sighs and asks “why do you all care for him so much ? He’s so…well you know
Peter was polishing Mayday a little and looked up at Y/N “well…it's because we all grew up with him, we basically looked after each other for his entire life” Y/N’s heart crumbled a little for them “But…he’s the reason why he basically cursed all of you, why stay with him?”
Jess waddled up to her and sighed “well…it's because we didn’t do anything when his mother died and when his own brother left him. It was just Me and Peter, the others eventually came in as their own parents couldn’t work in this castle anymore. You see when we knew him…he was this bright boy that thought he could do anything, but…in the end we’re still servants, we couldn’t even do anything when the King took him under his wing and molded him to be the person he is today…” 
In that moment Y/N understood everything now, she understood why these people were so loyal to him. She felt pretty bad and well ultimately decided that maybe she should give Miguel a second chance..
As the days went by, Y/N constantly went to see Miguel with medicine and more hot water to clean his wounds. Everyday she would hear stories from the staff of how Miguel was and their experiences with him, Heck even Hobie gave her a funny story. She felt motivated for a strange reason to help him and maybe even get to properly know him a bit better. Y/N eventually found out what the spell was about and she remembered asking Gwen what it meant if the last petal fell. In Gwen’s words she basically said “we become dead antique looking objects” Y/N also asked Peter when she found him on what it would take to break the spell, Miles was eager to tell her but Peter stopped him by simply saying “it's not something you should really worry about” Y/N thankfully took a hint and moved along with her day.
More days passed and Y/N started simply reading aloud to kill time 
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,” 
Miguel slowly stirred to Y/N’s voice and his eyes fluttered to hear her reciting a sonnet. His heart strangely softened at her voice, but he assumed it was because he appreciated her care for him during the past few days.He then heard the lines she spoke and immediately recognized it and finished the last few lines
 “And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines”
Y/N stopped to look at him in awe “conoces a Shakespeare ??” she said in a slightly excited tone. Miguel moved from the left to right side of the bed to look at her, his heart slightly pounding at the sight of her “well..I had quite the expensive education” Y/N smiled at him “My favorite play is Romeo and Juliet” Miguel rolled his eyes and groaned “why am I not surprised” he said shaking his head in utter disappointment. “Como ?” Miguel chuckled and responded “All of that heartache pining, and romance, it's just-” Miguel makes a gagging noise to express how cringe he finds it. 
Y/N chuckled a little and smiled. “Well, Mr. Cringe, from this assessment I can concur that you’re feeling a bit better, If you’ll excuse me, I promised Mayday that we would build a snowman” Miguel nodded as he understood and watched her walk out of his room. He lay there in confusion and wondered if he was going mad…"diablo, que hermosa” he muttered as he covered his face with his arm.
__________________________________________
An hour later
Y/N was walking outside with the adorable teacup to build a snowman. She smiled each time that Mayday pointed out little items that could be used to build. The two happily built a snowman and stole a carrot from Felipe’s stables to place as the snowman’s nose. Too bad Felipe saw them and started playing with them as well and squished the snowman. However, at a balcony high up in the castle, Miguel was watching Y/N from a distance. He softly watched her and smiled each time she laughed or smiled. He looked down at his bandaged wound and sighed as he wondered what to do. He looked beside him as Peter was paying attention to his darling daughter, hoping she wouldn't get trampled by Felipe. “Hey Peter…uhh…what do you call it when you-” Miguel gulped a little “when you feel kind of fluttery when staring at someone” Peter turned to him and smirked “is this someone, a certain woman who’s frolicking in the snow” Miguel groaned at his teasing and sighed “coño vale ok, jeez…but uhh…what do I do for her…I mean..she’s done so much for me” Peter then thinks for a bit and then smiled when thinking of something “why don’t you show her the library, trust me she’ll like it.” Miguel nodded as he took his advice and decided to show Y/N the library. A bit later during the day Miguel found Y/N inside the castle playing chess with Miles and asked her to join him for a special occasion. Y/N agreed and followed him, but immediately was tied a ribbon on her eyes “It’s a surprise and I don’t want you peeking.” 
Y/N smiled and simply allowed Miguel to guide her into the greatest surprise of her life. She heard a door open and felt his large furry hands take her inside. She kept on walking until he brought her to a stop. "Can I take this ribbon off now?” Y/N asked. “Ya en un ratito” Miguel excitedly went to the windows and opened the curtains for light to come inside.  Y/N could see the light seep in through the ribbon, but she still couldn’t make out what she’s looking at. “Can I take the ribbon off now ??” Miguel smiled with his toothy grin and told her “Yes, you may take off the ribbon” Y/N untied the ribbon from the back of her head and then finally looked into the room she was actually in and her jaw dropped. There were books everywhere in this giant room. “Oh my..this library…it's so...Dios Mio, it's so grand, it's wonderful !!”
Miguel smiled at her reaction, it was definitely priceless and worth it to see her cheeks rise and to see her eyes ever so slightly crinkle at the ends of her face. “I suppose it is” he responded “well…then since you like it so much then it's yours to keep” Y/N excitedly looked at him and asked “ Have you read all of these books ?” Miguel chuckles and scoffs “Not all of them, some of them are in Latin”  Y/N laughs and smiles “was that a joke ? you like telling jokes now ?” Miguel turned around to a table, but then looked back at her and smiled “maybe”
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
It has now been around 3 months since Y/N has stayed in the castle and ever since the two of them have slowly developed a bond. They became friends, but at the same time they really weren’t. The staff noticed it and were just simply happy to be working again. There were certain instances where Miguel was a bit gruff, awkward, or just had odd behaviors, but Y/N found solutions to each one. When eating soup at the dinner table, instead of using spoons they would sip the contents of the dish from the bowl itself. When eating meat, they would use their hands, and when reading books the two must sit together and share the book.
“Who knew that this would work ?” Jess whispered. Peter nodded and smiled “I'm surprised myself, it's quite encouraging to be honest”  Little Mayday who was with them looked up at her father “daddy ? what IS werking ?” Peter chuckled and looked at the little teacup “nothing to twist your little head around May, come on now we have things to do in the kitchen” Mayday nodded and hopped along with her father to the kitchen. Jess peering at the newly formed friendship smiled “don’t screw up Miguel”. She left the room to another part of the castle to attend her duties at. 
During this period of friendship, Miguel had started to wear clothes instead of the rags he wore, he wanted to look more presentable to Y/N. Luckily the seamstress was willing to sew new clothes for him in his furry stature. Y/N had invited him to walk outside to finish the book they were currently reading: The Count of Monte Cristo. He eventually met up with y/n as they took a stroll outside in the wintery snow. Y/N every once in a while, would peer up at him to spot any grimaces in his face, but was met instead with a calm look. As she read, she couldn’t help but peer at him one more time, her thoughts straying away to some impurities, her thoughts slipping as she imagined Miguel’s furry chest against her own body. She blushed at her own actions and disregarded it. She didn’t want to believe she just thought of something like that. The two finally walked by a bridge as she finally read the last sentences of the book “Gone,” murmured Valentine; “adieu, my sweet Haidee—adieu, my sister!”
“Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?” said Morrel with tearful eyes.
“Darling,” replied Valentine, “has not the count just told us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words?—’Wait and hope.’” 
Miguel smiled at her last words and looked at her “well that was quite the story” Y/N looked up and smiled at him. “I agree” Y/N put away the book in a bag and then smiled as she walked quickly towards Felipe, gently petting the horse and feeding him some apples that she had stored in her bag. She gestured for Miguel to come. He gulped as he looked at the horse, he didn’t want to frighten him with his beastly appearance, but the reassurance that y/n gave him was enough. He slowly approached Felipe and tried to put his hand on the horse, but Felipe nickered. The noise startled Miguel as he slightly flinched. Y/N chuckled a little and helped Miguel approach Felipe again, she wondered how he was just so sweet and kind despite his angry facade. When Miguel finally placed his hand against the horse his ears perked up and he looked up at Y/N with a toothy grin. She chuckled as she looked at him dearly, she enjoyed that his curiosity was emerging and his uncertainties as well. She handed him some bird feed and showed him how to feed birds in a quiet manner as well. Miguel looked at her as he was able to pet Felipe and successfully feed some birds. He thought how her glances were just so adorable, how she would always place a hand on him without any fear. He wanted to ignore all of these little things she did, but he simply couldn’t get over her. Her body was so petite against his, it just made his mind wander to farther places. However, his thoughts were interrupted when he realized he had birds perched all over his upper body and feeding the seeds from his hands. Y/N on the other hand was watching silently from behind a tree as she had to make terms with herself that she was finding Miguel’s true personality quite attractive. She always knew as a child that the man that she falls for would be for who he is, but she never expected this to be in THIS way. Y/N looked back quickly at Miguel and chuckled at all the birds on him, but her playfulness got to her as she started a snowball fight with him. The two in the snow played around, throwing snowballs at each other relentlessly, some bigger some smaller, and Miguel using his size as an advantage to make a giant snowball to throw at Y/N. 
After a long day of just playing in the snow, the two came inside to sit by the fire to start reading yet another book. Peeking outside the room where the fireplace was located. Miles, Gwen, Lyla, Peter, Mayday, and Jess were looking at the two of them. 
“Y’know…I think they like each other” “Y’know what miles, I think you’re right.”
“Shush you two do you want us to get caught.” Peter chuckled “alright Jess, just let them have their moment.” 
Mayday looked up confused and babbled “whaddaya mean they like each other” Peter laughs alongside with Lyla who tells her “We’ll tell you when you’re older.”
__________________________________________
However, in the village…
Ben was having a meeting with a man in the middle of the night in his cabin. Eddie was there as well but simply sighed as he knew that this plan was horrid
“Yo usualmente no salgo del Psiquiátrico en la madrugada, but I was told this is worth my time..”
Ben smiled wickedly and placed on the table a large bag of gold coins. The man looked at the money and smiled as he picked up a coin “i’m listening”
Ben smiled “so the plan is that I am dead set on marrying Y/N, but I’m starting to believe that she needs a bit of persuasion per say..” Eddie rolls his eyes and mutters “more like being flat out rejected”  Ben sneered at Eddie, and quickly used his look to silence him.
“Everyone knows that her father is a loon, he was in the tavern I believe 3-4 months ago raving over some beast in a castle?!” The man sighed “Mauricio is harmless though, he hasn’t done anything to harm the villagers to put him IN the asylum.”
Ben smacked the table “Listen, the point is that Y/N would do ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING to keep Mauricio out of the asylum” Eddie mumbled again “might marry him too” The man thinks “So you want me to throw her father into el psiquiátrico, a menos que ella se ponga de acuerdo de casarse contigo. Oh that is just despicable…” The man chuckled as he looked at the bag of money and he starts laughing menacingly “I LOVE IT”
__________________________________________
Back in the castle as the days slowly got warmer
Miguel was sitting down in his budding rose garden, the sights of spring finally peeking through the icy cold. He sat down and hummed as he enjoyed the book he was reading, flipping through the pages, enjoying each time the story escalated. Y/N sees him from a distance and approaches him at the rose garden. “What are you reading?” Miguel surprised closed his book as he cheekily responded “oh, nothing” Y/N smiled and chuckled as she sat beside him “Guinevere and Lancelot” Miguel corrected her “Actually, King Arthur and the Round Table, lots of blood, men, sword fighting and stuff.” Y/N hummed “It's still a romance” Miguel groans “Esta bien, you win” Y/n smiled and laughed a bit. Miguel smiled and looked at her with adoration in his eyes “I never thanked you, for not leaving me to be eaten by the wolves” Y/N laughed again. In the distance laughter was heard from the staff as they all chatted and teased little mayday. 
“Well, it seems that they know how to have a good time” Miguel rolls his eyes “and yet every time I walk in the room laughter just dies.” Y/N smiles at the similarity that they share and lays her head on Miguel’s shoulder, shocking the man to his core as his ears flattened in embarrassment. “I get it, the villagers would say I'm a funny girl” she moves her head away to look at him “I don’t think they meant it in a nice way” Miguel’s face drooped at her words “I'm sorry you had to experience that…Your village sounds horrid, terrible people there” Y/N chuckled as she agreed with him. Miguel looked into her eyes as he could see the sun glinting against the lovely shade that adorned her face. Without hesitating he didn’t realize what he said
“Estás haciendo que todo parezca tan bonito en mis ojos... crees que algún día podria bailar contigo?”
Y/N softly smiled as she took his hand and held his, feeling the warmth radiate from his palms.
“Of course, Miguel...”
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moondrop-writes · 1 year
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Hiiiii! I hope you’re doing well! If possible could I get an Apollo x wife!reader scenario where like he always promised he’d never cheat and stuff cause he only ever had eyes for her but then she finds out about Will and is really upset until she meets him and thinks he’s super cute (in like a motherly way off. Bonus points if she used to be with Ares before he started dating Aphrodite and so that’s why she was so upset cause she felt like it was Ares all over again even if they’re still good friends)
Sorry if this is too specific or confusing or something 😅
i love TOA Apollo, and while i've never been really sure how to write the POV of a god, i think this is pretty fair considering his in-universe persona written by Rick. thank you for the request and no worries about specifics! also, my apologies if this is super long lmao
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You wiped your wet hands onto the rag by the kitchen sink as the dishes you had just washed dripped. Normally, you'd dry them as well, but you were running low on time, and you didn't want to miss a crucial part of the night in order to fix little details like that. Smiling to yourself, you folded the rag and hung it up by the sink again.
The oven timer beeped just in time for you to get your apron on, and you grabbed your mits in order to safely pull the tray out of the oven. You placed it on top of the stove, the scent of the warm turkey filling your nose. Usually, you'd preserve such a thing for a holiday, but today might as well be one.
Tonight, was the night Apollo visited you once more, after several months in his human form trailing after some young girl, he seemed to take a liking to. Now he was immortal again and could see you after all that time apart.
You'd seen him within the first month at some point. You couldn't do anything though, because that wasn't him. It could very well be, but it wasn't. Lester was average, but it wasn't Apollo. You didn't want to sound shallow thinking that, but there was nothing connecting the god of the Sun to some fake New York teen.
And it'd been too long since then. He said it was for your safety, but you knew it was just because he couldn't stand for you to see him like this. You could tell by the way he walked that he was just as uncomfortable with his new body as you were. He looked like a baby deer, stumbling on tiny legs as it struggled to learn how to walk.
That was not your Apollo, your Apollo was graceful with a flashing smile that sent gusts of warmth up your arms. But his looks weren't all that appealed to you so many years ago. He might've been vain, but he was lovely too. He cared for mortals as the great Titan Prometheus had, and everywhere he walked seemed to cheer someone up.
He was rather dependent on his looks, but around you all that seemed to shy away. It was just you, mortal flesh and human blood, and him, golden blonde hair and a blinding smile.
In your head, you tended to akin Apollo to a star. Despite being one of the oldest Olympians, he seemed so much younger. His sister, Artemis seemed so much more serious and mature, and Dionysus had also seemed to understand his duty more seriously. Being the god of the Sun was more habit than it was a job to Apollo.
While the gods floated and stayed still in their palaces, Apollo roamed around. Each day when he rose and ran the sun, he saw places he might've otherwise missed. Everything wondered him, whether it be a small cave in Taiwan or a forgotten shore in Australia.
Stars were small, surrounded by dozens of other stars and radiating their heat and charm. You thought that summarized Apollo pretty well.
The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts.
Startling, you jumped up, rushing to untie your apron and hang it up in the hallway. In nothing but a pair of over washed jeans and a loose beige t-shirt, you pulled the door open, and finally felt like you could breathe again for the first time in months.
There Apollo stood, bronze skin and gleaming hair, a suspiciously bright red Camaro sitting in your driveway.
"Y/N," he breathed, voice as soft as a deer's mewl.
"Apollo," you answered, and leaped forward. He caught you easily, as he had always done, and pulled you close. Your fingers clasped behind his neck, grasping onto blonde curls.
His own hands found your hips, fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you forward. His nose was buried in your hair, and he pressed repeated kisses to the crown of your head.
He was dressed in his godly attire, bands of gold, an airy white tunic, and gold sandals. He looked like a supermodel next to you, but he held you as if you were true treasure.
You pulled back for a moment, only to pull his head down so his lips could meet yours, pressed together in a locking kiss.
It could've gone on forever, but mortals needed air, and you pulled away to breathe. With your chest heaving, he smiled at you as if you'd hung the stars. One hand lifted to cup your cheek and cradled your face.
"I love you," he said, voice soft and almost weak sounding.
"I love you too," you said, pressing your cheek to his chest. You felt something break in you when you heard the slow beat of his immortal heart. It was like a dam that finally crashed.
Your eyes filled with months' worth of tears and you hiccupped wetly against his skin. "I-I missed you so-so much..." you sniffed, trying to calm down your rapid breathing, "don't ever do that again!"
He gave a small rueful laugh and wiped at your tears. "I'll try," he said, and that was enough.
The two of you went inside, and he familiarized himself with everything again. You ate dinner, with soft talk of what'd you'd been up to the past few months. He was unusually quiet and kept glancing out the window to the sky as if it were going to disappear.
He followed you back to your bedroom and changed into some clothes that had been sitting in your dresser for months, awaiting him. You were in the bathroom attached to your room, combing your hair as he sits on the bed watching you.
You placed down the comb with a small clattering sound and turned to him. Your palms were flat on the countertop.
"What's up with you? You're...quiet," you ask, biting your lip. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair before standing and striding over to you.
He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in your neck. "Sorry, I... I've got a lot on my mind..." It was weird seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. Even before, when he would melt in your hands like putty and show his true self as a soft sweet husband, he was never uncertain. Not around you, at least.
You take his hands in yours and press a kiss to the inside of his palm. "Then confide in me. I'm here, and I don't plan on leaving."
He looks away and you recognize the expression easily.
Shame.
"Apollo," you say, a bit uneasily.
"Yes?"
"Tell me," You urge. He hides his face in the flesh of your neck again and presses a kiss to your nape.
"I made a promise, a while ago, and I broke it," he admitted, and you scoured your mind for a time where he'd done such a thing.
You held his hand, the new ring gleaming on your finger. Under Apollo's sunlight, it shone like a star in the night sky, but not even it could compare to the light of his smile.
He kissed your forehead, and said, "No demigod kids, I promise. Not even yours."
You laughed and swatted at his arms. "Be serious," you huffed, "and thank you."
"Mhm," he hummed, smiling against your temple.
Instinctively, you pushed him back, second-guessing your strength and gasping when he banged into the doorframe. He winced and held a hand to his shoulder blade.
He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. "How old? No--how many? How--how could I have been so stupid?"
"Y/N..." he tried, voice breaking halfway through your name. It didn't matter, you were louder.
"No, answer the question!"
He closed his eyes, face twisted with distain as he cowered. The god, Apollo, cowering to the wrath of mere mortal.
He breathed in to steady himself.
"Five."
Your face contorted into one of anguish, then horror, then anger.
You cared not for the pained expression on his face when you pulled off your wedding band and flung it at him. He caught it and held it to his chest. "For fifteen years I thought you were loyal! But no. Did those years mean nothing to you? Could you have not waited another century for me to pass? God!"
You ran a shaking hand through your hair, and felt disgust rise within you.
"Please," he begged, but you were having none of it.
"Out!" you shrieked, "get out!"
He obliged, leaving you to fall to the floor, sobs falling from your lips.
It went like that for a while. A few weeks, you think. He tried, multiple times, but you didn't want to listen. How could you have thought he loved you? All those years of lies.
You didn't want to think about him. So, you didn't. You blocked all thoughts of Apollo out. That was until you were sorting through your mail and found one from a sender you weren't familiar with.
From, Will Solace, sent by Hermes Shipping & CO. to Y/N L/N
Curiosity taking over, you opened the letter, and began to read.
Dear, Y/N!
Hello, I'm sure my father has given you quite the issue, and I must say your anger is justified. I have not come to defend Apollo's actions but assist yours. I'm Will Solace, a half-blood son of your husband, my dad. He's been whining a lot at camp, but It's easy to tell how much he misses you. The whole time he was mortal he wouldn't stop talking about you. He claims that he's tried to talk to you, but you keep shutting him out, so I decided to take things into my own hands. You have all the right to ignore this, but I have a feeling you won't. As you're well aware, my father has had multiple demigod children since his marriage with you, which is wrong no doubt, all of my siblings agree. But I don't think he's talked to my mother once since my birth, and Austin said he hadn't seen him before camp since he was four, so, I think it's safe to assume he hadn't cared much for our mothers. But he did care for you. I know my dad, and I know how he used to be all those years ago, which kind of concerns me for you, but I'll stay quiet about that. If he stayed with you this long, then he plans to stick it out. I truly believe he cares for you, and if so, I'd like to meet you. If possible, please come to XXX cafe at 1:30 next Friday.
With care, Will Solace.
You didn't realize you were crying till teardrops were dripping off your cheeks.
With a racing heart, you walked over to the calendar. The letter had been later than probably intended, which meant next Friday, was actually tomorrow.
So, it came to the question of whether or not you would go.
You missed Apollo so much. He was right there, and you could hold him and have him as much as you wanted, but you pushed him away. You let your anger blind you, however justified it may be, and ran from the man that loved you most.
Then it was decided. You'd go. You'd meet Will, and you'd force Apollo to apologize.
Now that you were there, waiting outside the cafe anxiously, the plan didn't seem so fool proof. You flattened down the fabric of your summer dress and ran your hands along the strap of your purse, eyes searching for anybody that may resemble Apollo.
Will isn't hard to find, and like his father, the world seems to center itself around him when he's near.
His hair is blonde and curly, just like Apollo's, and falls over his ears and hangs just above his eyes. Piercing blue find yours, and sun-kissed skin shifts to show a blinding smile. You'd expected them to look similar, but not near identical.
He runs over, wearing a pair of shorts and a nice t-shirt, hand raised in a wave. He stops a few feet from you and holds out a hand.
"Will Solace, it's so nice to meet you. Apollo talks a lot about you," he says, eyes bright and cheery. You were sure you would've thought he was annoying if he was anybody else but knowing that this was Apollo's kid (your stepson? No, that was a weird thought) made it sort of endearing.
You found yourself smiling back as you took his hand.
"You mentioned," you say, clasping hands, "I'm Y/N."
"Let's go inside, shall we?"
Turns out, Will is very likeable. Every word is filled with genuine joy, and he listens intently. You can see the resemblance in looks, but he must get this side of himself from his mother. His nose twitches when confused, and his ears go pink when he's embarrassed.
You think it's cute, the way he opens himself up so easily to you. He finds hidden motherly qualities in yourself, that you weren't even sure you had.
That's how you find yourself inviting him to your house, where you fixed him some lemonade and grabbed some cookies from the pantry for the two of you to snack on as you sat on the porch.
Will finished his previous sentence, placing down a half-empty glass of lemonade. His brows are furrowed, and his usual smile is set in a deep frown. You wanted to rid him of it, and ease away any worries, as a mother should.
"Y'know, growing up without Apollo was hard, but I managed. It was my mother that was difficult. She was distant, hardly there. To be fair, she's famous, but it was still hard. She never made cookies--or made me lemonade. I... you're everything I wished for her to be."
When you stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, he stuttered to correct himself. "I'm sorry if that's weird---I, well, --" you tugged him close, cautious of the food.
He was pressed up against your side, and as soon as his skin met yours he melted, and let you hug him close and warm.
"It's not weird."
"Are you sure?" he said, voice quiet, unsure. It was the same tone Apollo had used.
"Certain."
He pressed a bit closer. "I feel like a baby," he laughed, "fifteen-years-old and I'm being held like a toddler."
"It's always good to be held sometimes," you say, rubbing your hand up his arm. He sniffed, and you didn't have to look down to know that he was holding back tears. How had the tone shifted so quickly?
"I'm sorry," he says, voice thick with emotion. He moves to get up, ears tinged pink, "I shouldn't be doing this. You're not even my mother--"
"Stop it. Calm down and relax."
He does, only after you have to forcibly tug him back down. He settles down next to you, and takes deep breaths to push away the tears in his eyes.
You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but your legs are beginning to cramp from being in the same position and Will is letting out soft snores against your collarbone. The sun is sinking into the horizon, and you try not to jump when he speaks.
"You're good with him," Apollo says, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
You frown, "you say that like he's a dog."
He looks away and shrugs, "I'm not good with kids, you know that."
"Neither am I," you huff, and your arms tighten around Will.
"I think Will has a different opinion."
"We all do," you say, and look down as Apollo gets closer. He settles beside you and whispers his next words.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to please you anymore."
You close your eyes and sigh. "Just--stay, okay?"
He nods, "okay."
And he does. Apollo sits there until the sun is gone, his chin on your head, and arms holding both you and Will firmly. You're asleep before you know it, and he's hoisting you both up to bring you inside.
He places Will on the couch with a light blanket, before bringing you to your bedroom. He lays you down, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips.
"I love you," he whispers, hand holding yours.
Unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his, and he beams.
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