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#Finally he sits in the chair next to her bed and asks if she's alright
warty-hog-legacy · 1 year
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SKETCHES 
of Clara’s clothing. Will do school uniforms eventually
headcanon under the cut
Also, after the whole fighting-Ranrok thing (gotta happen in March, right? still snowy out), Clara is wounded via knife slash to her ankle, also twisted same ankle, got walloped by a troll, scratched up her legs something awful sliding on rocks, and then watched her favorite professor die. She’s in hysterics when Sharp and Prof. Onai are trying to corral her up to the hospital wing. She keeps trying to escape and go find the entrance to the mined tunnel.
Pls keep in mind, she’s 15, been awake for like 36 hours straight, and just lost someone important to her (again, so like, old memories of her sister dying are resurfacing). Obviously, she is a pillar of calm and collected sanity.
Additional Information: When the tremors with the Ancient Magic started, the Profs who did not go to help fight were herding students into the Great Hall, like when Sirius scratched up the Pink Lady’s portrait. So a not insignificant number the student body heard Clara’s screeches, snuck to the door and saw the floating cot with a body under a sheet, the haunted looks on the professors as they return.
Rumors circulate. As they do.
So two mornings later, when Sebastian has worked up the nerve to actually talk to Clara (he heard her parents were summoned in the middle of the night, also heard she lost her mind, that a dragon lived under the castle, castle was almost blown up, etc... who knows what’s true). So. He’s going to talk to her. Which he’s talked to loads of girls, and talked to Clara loads of times. Except that she’s refused to talk to him since the Uncle Solomon incident, and that’s why he’s nervous and trying to talk himself into seeing her.
Instead he Lurks (defintely lurking) outside the hospital wing, unsure if he wants to talk to her or not. He sticks his head into the door, half hoping she’s still sleeping and half-hoping she’ll see him and all that awkward guilt will vanish.
Sebastian is treated to a view of privacy curtains halfway down the wing. And through a little gap, he gets a glimpse of her lacing up her corset. Just for like, 1 total second.
5 minutes later, a bunch of second-years watch him sprint out of the castle and dive headfirst into the lake.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy mc#clara white#sebastian sallow#he does end up going back up to the hospital wing before dinner#Clara is sitting in bed (in a NIGHTGOWN so he is thinking of going back into the lake and just asking the merpeople to drown him)#She is absolutely devouring a new book (sherlock holmes)#She's also all bruised up and her hair is in a braid instead of its usual twisty thing#Anyway so he loses any ounce of planning what he was going to say and simply goes 'Hello'#His brain = not working too many emotions that he doesnt want to think about like guilt and anxiety and#and something thats making his hands feel sweaty#Finally he sits in the chair next to her bed and asks if she's alright#corrects himself and says of course not shes in the hospital wing#says he wasnt sure if she'd want to see him#oh and he heard about Fig and is sorry about that#Sebastian realizes he's doing all the talking and shuts up#Clara is holding onto her book (her beloved whatever book she is currently reading is her beloved)#like her book is going to steady her#her voice is rough from screaming and whatnot but she thanks him for visiting#And then her parents enter the room and Sebastian wishes the chair would morph into a coffin so he could die then and there#But Clara finds her parents doting on him to be amusing enough to smile through her grief so he tolerates Lady White fussing over his robes#This time when he leaves the hospital wing he goes straight to the baths and puts it on ice cold#b/c he cant get Clara and her messy braided hair and the corset glimpse ouf of his mind but she's a FRIEND
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classyrbf · 2 months
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SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO
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SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special
INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.
Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.
It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.
A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.
Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.
“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.
His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.
Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”
“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”
You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.
“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.
“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.
His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.
“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.
Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”
“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.
As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.
Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.
“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.
“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”
Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.
“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.
“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.
You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.
“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.
You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.
Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.
He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.
He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.
You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.
“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.
You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.
“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.
He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.
You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.
“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.
Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.
Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.
Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.
“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.
“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.
“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.
“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.
You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.
Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.
“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.
You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.
He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.
“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.
“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.
Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.
Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.
“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”
“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.
“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.
“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”
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entitled-fangirl · 8 months
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Breakfast is ready.
Felix Catton x reader
Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.
Words: 968
Warnings: sickness, cursing
Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!
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She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."
She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.
She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 
Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?
Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.
Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.
She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.
"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.
He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."
A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.
Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"
She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"
"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."
Duncan leaves with a nod.
She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"
He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."
She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."
His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"
She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."
He doesn't take that for an answer.
"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"
"No. No. I'm alright."
He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."
Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"
She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.
Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.
Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"
Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 
"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"
Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."
But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."
Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."
Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.
Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."
Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"
Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"
Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."
The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.
Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 
Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"
Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."
The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."
She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."
She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"
"Felix, stop."
"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"
Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 
She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."
Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 
Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.
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vanteguccir · 8 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗬
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Matt had a busy day and just wants to sleep in his lover arms.
WARNING: None.
REQUEST?: Yes, by @mymoots
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Y/N sighed in relief after closing the door to her house, locking it before placing her set of keys on the plate next to the entrance, next to Matt's car key. The girl took off her shoes, placing them up against the wall next to Chris' sneakers, making a mental note to clean them both the next day, or ask Chris to do so.
Y/N walked to the kitchen still with her purse on her shoulder, not wanting to put it on the counter, knowing that if she did she would forget to pick it later to put it in its proper place. The girl walked to one of the cabinets and took a glass of water, filling it and drinking all the contents there, before finally going to her room, which she shared with her boyfriend.
She was excited to see Matt, after a busy day at work she always loved sitting and listening intently as he recounted everything he did alone or with his brothers from the moment he woke up, her favorite stories being about what it was filming the video that would be posted the next day, or sometimes, on that same day.
And this was one of those days, when the boys left the recording of Friday's video to be recorded exactly on Friday, which made the day busier than normal and, consequently, more tiring.
Y/N quickly arrived at the room, knocking twice on the door before carefully opening it just enough to enter, before closing it again, finding the room completely dark, only lit by the low white lights that decorated the corner of the walls.
Matt was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, face down and his face turned to the other way.
The girl placed her purse on the chair closest to the door, removing her jacket and walking lightly towards her boyfriend, not sure if he was awake or asleep, and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb him.
"Matt? Baby?" Y/N whispered, bringing her face closer to the side of Matt's head, enjoying the fresh smell of shampoo.
"Hmm?"
"Are you awake?" She continued, now bringing her face closer to his, noticing his half-open eyes and sleepy face.
"I am, I haven't slept yet, I wanted to wait for you." He responded in a low whisper filled with exhaustion.
"Oh my love, there was no need. You recorded today's video during the day and you mentioned that you were going to the market, I imagine how tired you must be." Y/N spoke back, remembering the brief text that Matt sent her right after lunch, letting her know that he was going to stop by the market to buy some items that had run out of the fridge and cupboard, and that Y/N had written in the notes on his phone as it was the closest to her at the time.
"It's okay, I like seeing your face before I sleep." Matt whispered again, turning completely around to face Y/N, smiling slightly, his eyes almost closing completely.
"I love you." The girl spoke, approaching and kissing Matt's lips, without moving them, just a seal full of love and affection.
"Hm I love you more."
"Are you hungry? I can get a quick snack." Y/N asked, pulling away.
"A little, but I miss you more than I'm hungry, so lay here with me." He responded, pulling her arm lightly.
"Are you sure, honey?" He responded with just a nod. "Alright, let me just take a shower first."
"Nooo, don't leave me here all alone." He asked slyly, raising his arms. Y/N laughed at his whole drama as his blue eyes barely opened.
"It'll be quick, I promise."
"I'll go with you." He said, getting up and almot falling, what kept him from doing it was Y/N's hands on his shoulders.
The girl shook her head, knowing that asking him to lie down again would be a losing fight, so she just guided him to the bathroom, sitting him on top of the toilet.
The girl quickly took her clothes off and discarding them in the laundry basket, before entering the shower, casting a quick glance at Matt, who was half-bent over with his eyes half closed, the side of his body resting on the counter, making her smile, he was so kind to her.
It didn't take more than ten minutes and she was already drying herself, fulfilling her promise to be quick.
"Matt, go to bed, I'm almost done here." She asked, placing her hands on the boy's cheeks and lifting his face, bending down slightly and kissing his forehead, helping him to get up and gently pushing him to the room.
As she left the bathroom, her eyes traveled to the bed, smiling when she saw Matt in a half-sitting, half-lying position, with his eyes closed and his hand off the side of the bed, as if he was ready to catch her when she climbed into the comfort of his side.
Y/N went to their closet, taking fresh panties and Matt's shirt from her side of clothes, putting them both on before walking back to bed, lightly touching Matt's hand, which made him open his eyes quickly and look around, feeling a little lost.
"I'm awake, I promise." Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at how stubborn the brunette could be when he wanted to.
"Go a little to the side, my love." She asked, pushing him away lightly with her hands, making space for herself. "When we wake up tomorrow, I want to know everything about your day." Y/N added in a whisper, getting under the covers and placing Matt next to her, before pulling him into her arms, letting he lay his head on her chest, knowing that the sound of her heartbeat calmed him down.
"And I'll tell you everything." He spoke back slowly, placing his hand around her waist before giving up to sleep.
Y/N paused for a few seconds to just watch her boyfriend's expression soften, the tension in his body giving way to lightness, and she couldn't help but smile. There was no better place for her than in Matt's arms.
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bluebeary-jay · 1 year
Text
If I could hold you for a minute
Javier Peña x f!Reader
Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.
Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)
Warnings: none ♡
Word count: 3.3K
A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes
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This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.
First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.
“It’s for you, Peña.”
So yeah. His day was shit so far.
His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.
“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.
“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”
At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.
“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”
Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.
“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”
He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.
“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”
Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.
“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”
“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”
You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.
“If you say so. But please, eat something.”
Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”
He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.
“I know you, Peña.”
“Too well, I think.”
“You love it, though.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”
“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”
“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”
“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”
“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”
“También te amo.”
He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.
“You have it bad, Peña.”
Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.
He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.
“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.
“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”
Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.
Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.
But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.
“Shut up.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”
“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”
“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”
Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.
“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.
“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”
The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.
Murphy was watching him with a smirk.
“You owe me, Javi.”
“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”
A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.
*****
After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.
So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.
You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.
Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.
“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”
Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.
“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”
“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.
“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”
He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.
“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.
“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”
A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.
“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.
“No. Just stay here.”
“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”
“Are you saying I smell?”
“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”
Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”
Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”
“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”
Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.
“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.
“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”
“You raise a good point, hermosa.”
With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.
You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.
Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.
His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.
“Cariño, I still have to finish–”
“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Javi…”
“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”
You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.
Javi was right. Everything else could wait.
You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.
“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”
He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.
“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”
Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”
“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.
“Don’t tempt me.”
When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.
“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”
You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.
The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.
“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.
“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”
You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”
He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”
“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.
“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”
“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”
“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”
“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”
He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.
“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.
“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”
“I think you need some sleep, too.”
Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.
“No, querida. Just you.”
*****
The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.
“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”
“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”
“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.
“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.
“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.
“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”
You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.
“You really have it bad, Peña.”
He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.
He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.
Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.
*****
querida - dear/darling
lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey
no sé - I don’t know
también te amo - I love you, too
hermosa - beautiful
mi sol - my sun/sunshine
tal vez - maybe
3K notes · View notes
unclewaynemunson · 10 months
Text
After Eddie and Max were brought into the hospital, the waiting room was packed with people. But as time passed by, it got quieter. One by one, worried parents came by to pick up their kids.
“Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?” Robin asked Steve when her mother arrived.
Steve nodded. “Go home, Rob, it's okay. Just wanna make sure Max's mom and Eddie's uncle get here.”
She shot him a worried look, but she knew him well enough to recognize when she wouldn't be able to persuade him – and Steve in turn knew that there was no way Mrs. Buckley would leave the hospital without Robin, after all that had happened that night.
So Steve stayed and waited with Lucas in Max's room for Mrs. Mayfield. When she arrived, he decided to give them some privacy and wandered over to Eddie's room a couple of doors down the hall.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if Eddie would already have returned from the operation room – and if so, if it would be good or bad news waiting for him on the other side of the door.
He swallowed. Waiting motionlessly in the corridor wouldn't change what he'd find. So he raised his hand and slowly pushed the door open.
Eddie was inside, leaning against a pillow in his bed. He was as white as the sheets around him and he had large stitches in one of his cheeks, but other than that, he looked – alive.
“Eddie,” Steve breathed out while an overwhelming wave of relief washed over him.
It was only then that he noticed the other people in the room and stopped in his tracks.
Eddie's uncle was sitting at his bedside, wearing sweatpants and only an undershirt underneath his denim jacket. He looked exhausted, but just as relieved as Steve felt.
But that wasn't what had sparked Steve's surprise. No, the thing that Steve couldn't make sense of, was the man who was sat in the chair next to Wayne Munson. It was Steve's old middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. He was dressed in a plaid flannel that seemed more Mr. Munson's style than his own, buttoned askew on top of a pair of striped pajama pants.
“Mr. Clarke? What are you doing here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
“Who are you?” Mr. Munson asked Steve before Mr. Clarke could say anything. It sounded defensive on the verge of being aggressive, but Steve couldn't really blame him for that, considering what the majority of Hawkins currently thought about Eddie.
“Steve Harrington,” he said, holding out his hand.
The lines on Mr. Munson's forehead deepened.
“He's my friend,” Eddie said. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but Steve still felt a rush of warmth course through his whole body because of the words he said. “He saved my life.”
“Oh.” Mr. Munson's eyes widened slightly and he finally took Steve's hand. “Wayne Munson. Eddie's uncle. Pleased meetin' ya.”
“It's good to see you again, Steve,” Mr. Clarke remarked. “You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you.”
“I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Clarke,” Steve noted, still trying to make sense of what exactly his old science teacher was doing in this room.
“Uncle Scott is also my uncle,” Eddie explained.
Steve looked back and forth between Mr. Munson and Mr. Clarke, trying to find any kind of resemblance between the two of them.
“You're brothers?” he couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. He would never have guessed that those two men were related to each other.
“Steve, no...” Eddie's voice was almost a whisper and had an undertone of something that sounded an awful lot like exasperation. Steve knew that tone all too well; he had never been good at restraining himself from asking stupid questions, after all.
He noticed how the two men exchanged some kind of meaningful glance with each other.
“Um, I think we should go get some coffee, Wayne,” Mr. Clarke said. “Leave the boys to catch up.”
Mr. Munson nodded, but before he got up, he looked at Eddie. "You'll be alright?" he asked, a worried frown on his face.
Eddie nodded. "It's fine, Uncle Wayne." He said it softly, like he was trying to reassure his uncle, and only after Eddie gave him another emphatic nod, Mr. Munson started following Mr. Clarke out of the room.
Just when Steve realized Mr. Clarke must be Eddie's uncle from his mom's side while Mr. Munson had to be his dad's brother, Wayne let his hand linger on the small of Mr. Clarke's back. It was a tiny moment, that only lasted a second right before they went through the door, easy to miss if one weren't paying close attention. But it was still enough for Steve to understand the exasperation in Eddie's voice and the unease on his uncles' faces. That one touch told Steve all he needed to know: there was this casual, easy kind of intimacy behind it that only long-term partners shared. He had seen his parents act like that, and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair...
“No fucking way,” he breathed out at the moment the door quietly shut behind Mr. Munson. He turned back to Eddie with wide eyes and his jaw dropped.
“Your uncle is – and he's with Scott Clarke?”
Eddie's jaw clenched. “You got a problem with that?”
In his pure astonishment, Steve barely even registered Eddie's question.
“That's impossible!” he all but exclaimed. “Here – in Hawkins? How?!”
Eddie looked slightly past Steve's face, to the bare white wall behind him. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he said. “You've seen dozens of hell monsters and walked through an alternate dimension to fight an evil sorcerer, and this is what you decide is impossible?”
“Well, it is,” Steve stubbornly said.
He remembered how he once felt about his teammate Thomas, back in his freshman year, remembered the ache in his chest exactly because of how impossible it was. He remembered Robin talking about Tammy Thompson in that bathroom stall filled with the scent of their puke. But Tammy Thompson is a girl, he had said, in his instinctive and perhaps naive confusion - not because he deemed it impossible for Robin to feel that way about a girl, but because up until that point, he had deemed it irrelevant. He knew better than anyone that those kind of feelings would flare up from time to time around certain people, but as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. There was no way to act on it, no point in lingering on something that was impossible to have anyway.
“They've been together for over a decade,” Eddie said. His voice suddenly lacked its usual warmth; a warmth that Steve had gotten used to over the past few days; a warmth that left a weird feeling of loss behind in Steve's chest now that it wasn't there. “They make each other happy. They don't hurt anyone with it. So don't fucking tell me it's impossible, man. They love each other, and if you're gonna be a dick about that, I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to fuck the hell off.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Steve hurriedly sputtered. “I'm not – I didn't-” The words got stuck in his throat, somehow. He didn't quite know how to explain the storm that was raging inside of him, the many emotions he felt upon discovering that there were two men happily sharing their lives together, who lived in the same town as he did. Two men who were just like him, who had figured out a way to not hide away, who had somehow found their way to each other, and who had fallen in love without it being something they needed to repress.
“I didn't know – that it could be like that,” he finally managed to stutter. “I never even imagined a future like that for myself. I didn't know – I thought we were just supposed to pretend like those parts of ourselves don't exist and marry a woman. I never met anyone who did it differently.”
Finally, Eddie averted his gaze to look at him again. His eyes were a little bit wider and he was staring at him so intensely that Steve felt something stir deep in his stomach.
“Stevie,” he said, his voice quiet and so much warmer than before in a way that sent a shiver down Steve's spine. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I had no idea. I thought you were saying..." He cut himself off and inhaled deeply, slightly shaking his head. "Listen, man, there's always a choice. I'm not saying it's easy; my uncles have to hide a lot of what they mean to each other when they're in public. They're risking Scott's job, and maybe even a whole lot more if the wrong people find out about them... But there is always a choice. They're much happier together than they would've been if they had chosen to hide and marry a woman, or if they'd spent their whole lives alone.”
Steve had to take a moment to let Eddie's words sink in. Eddie merely kept looking at him, not making a single sound, patiently waiting for him to get his thoughts straight again.
“Are there more people like them, here in Hawkins?” Steve finally asked.
“Not many,” Eddie answered. “Most people who are different move to the bigger cities, where you're a bit more free to be yourself. But they're friends with this lesbian couple who lives a few streets over. And they know some people in Indy, but Wayne refuses to move there. He's too much of a small town boy, he says.” Eddie rolled his eyes at that last part, as if he could in no way comprehend the thought of preferring Hawkins over a big city like Indianapolis.
But Steve did comprehend it. Hawkins was his home. Even after everything that happened to him here, it was where he belonged. It was where everyone he cared about was. He wasn't naive, he knew that that was bound to change at some point, but he had never dared to dream about going someplace else himself. He had never even dared to dream about being someone else. Yet here he was, sitting at the bedside of a boy whose eyes he hadn't stopped thinking about for days.
Maybe it was about time to change his perception of what was possible and what wasn't.
“I know one person who's like – like me,” he admitted. He wanted to tell Eddie about Robin. He knew that there was nothing to worry about – but he also knew it wasn't up to him to share her secret. “I don't know if this is a weird idea," he continued, "but maybe we could all, like, get together sometime. Your uncle, mister Clarke, their lesbian friends...” The idea of it made him feel weirdly excited. He couldn't really imagine what it would be like, to spend a whole evening surrounded by people he had this one thing in common with.
“Not a weird idea,” Eddie told him, that soft look still shining in his big brown eyes. “Sounds awesome, actually.”
“If we do something like that...” Steve hesitated for a moment. “Would you be there too?”
Despite the stitches in his cheek, Eddie managed to smile, dimples and all. He raised a pale hand and pulled a strand of his hair across his face, like he was trying to hide something written on the skin around his lips. “I thought that was obvious,” he said with a chuckle.
Steve chuckled as well. “Just needed to be sure,” he admitted.
He stretched out his hand and put it on top of Eddie's, where it was resting on top of the sheets. It only took a few seconds: he gently squeezed Eddie's hand, then pulled back again, still nervous and not quite knowing what exactly they were headed towards. But no matter how short, the touch still sent sparks through his whole body.
“I'm glad you're alive,” he said, softly.
Eddie's smile became just a little bit wider, and a faint blush colored his pale cheeks. “Me too, big boy. Believe me, me too.”
(I wrote this bc this post by @boldlyvoid refused to leave my brain for literal months)
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aemondsbabe · 10 months
Text
Praise | Taunt Part 2
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summary: michael has been tutoring you for weeks and the closer you get to him, the stronger your feelings seem to grow but does he feel the same way about you?
pairing: michael gavey x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, profanity, dirty talk, breast/nipple play, teasing, degradation/dumbification, oral (f receiving), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (technically the reader is on birth control but it's not mentioned in this part), angst (michael is in his sad boy hours for a lil bit), creampie, light cum play, light choking, daddy kink, dom/sub vibes, discussions of mathematics, michael being a lil clueless (aw, bless) -- let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 9.8k i will not apologize, i am not sorry
a/n: i have to say, i've grown so attached to this little pairing and i hope y'all love them as much as i do!
TAUNT | Part 1
MAKING AMENDS | Bonus
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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“Fuck this,” you mutter, jaw clenched as you yank over the next page of your statistics textbook, practically ripping the page as you flip it over. You can’t help but grumble, each page of notes you flip through only adding to your foul mood as you hunch over your desk, numbers and letters swimming together in your vision. “Ugh!” You toss your pencil down, rubbing your temples as it clatters across the desk before falling to the floor. 
“Oi!” Louise sits up against the pillows on your bed across the room, tugging off a headphone as she looks at you, resting her own textbook on her lap, “You doin’ alright, babe?” 
“I’m gonna fail the final,” You groan, head in your hands, “I’m gonna fail it, and then fail out of Oxford, and then I’ll have to go back home and then my parents will kill me.” 
“You’re not gonna fail,” she sighs, pushing herself up so her legs dangle over the bed, “You’ll be fine. You were so worried about that last quiz and you nearly got a perfect score, remember?” 
You let out a petulant whine, one you’d be embarrassed about if your head wasn’t pounding, and lean back on your wooden desk chair, bleary eyes staring up at the ceiling. “That was before we started consumer mathematics,” you lament, chest heaving with a sigh, “I have no hope now.” 
You can feel Louise jokingly roll her eyes behind you when she huffs out a laugh as she slips off your bed, coming to stand behind you, her face upside down as she looks down at you, a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you just text Michael? I thought he’s been helping you.” 
Just hearing his name makes your heart feel funny in your chest and you sigh, sitting back up before turning to look at your friend, “It’s…complicated.” Inwardly, you can’t help but cringe at yourself; the situation is anything but complicated and yet it somehow feels impossible. 
“Explain,” Louise commands, leaning back against your desk with her arms crossed across her chest. She laughs when you groan, pushing your shoulders back from where you’ve curled in on yourself, forcing you to look at her, “Babe, I love you, but it’s Michael Gavey. How on Earth is that man ‘complicated?’” She asks, cocking her hip as she does air quotes with her hands. 
“Because I like him!” You blurt out after a second, hiding your face in your hands, “I like him and I don’t think he likes me and every damn time we study, we just end up fucking and I can’t keep fucking him because I like him!” The words rush out of you before you have time to think about them, your whole body deflating like a balloon as you release weeks worth of tension. 
Your head snaps up in shock when Louise giggles, your mouth hanging open even as the corners of your lips threaten to quirk up into a smile. “How dare you!” You admonish, playfully slapping at her hip, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you laugh!” 
“Sorry, sorry!” She shakes her head, breathily laughing as she tries to get herself under control, “I’m sorry! I just…what do you mean he doesn’t like you? That man is in love.”
“What?” Your eyes narrow as you stare up at her, “How do you know? I’ve tried flirting with him and he doesn’t ever seem to respond to it.”
At this, Louise shakes her head and shoots you a concerned look, “I don’t think he’s the type to get flirting, hon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you honestly think anyone has ever flirted with him?” Louise asks, giving you a pointed look, “I don’t have anything against the guy, but come on. You’re gonna have to hit him over the head with it.” 
“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesce; in your weeks of getting to know Michael, you’d learned that while he wasn’t clueless, he was definitely not as experienced as he had first appeared, “That still doesn’t mean he likes me, though.” You point out, raising an eyebrow at your friend. 
“Do you really not see the way he looks at you?” She smirks, “I’ve said two words to the man but, trust me, he is smitten, babe.”
You look away, biting at your bottom lip as you think over what she had to say. Your eyes scan over the surface of your desk, unfocused, as thoughts bounce around your head. Louise simply pats your shoulder before going back to your bed, resting on her stomach as she resumes reading through her book. 
You’re quiet for a moment before your eyes land on your phone, sitting temptingly on the corner of your desk. You glance back and forth between it and the still-opened textbook in front of you, frustration rising in your chest once again at the mere sight of the various formulas on the pages. Finally, with a sigh, you grab your phone and flip it open, quickly scrolling to Michael’s contact. 
“U busy now?” You text quickly, pressing send before you have a chance to second guess yourself before setting the phone down quickly, practically dropping it on the desk as if it were burning you. 
Not even a minute later, although it feels like an eternity, it vibrates. You hesitate for a second, tempted to just slog your way through this chapter on your own. Finally, you sigh and reach for your phone, not wanting to sacrifice your newly-improved grade or your situationship with Michael. 
“In my room. Why?” He replies, always concise and to the point. 
“Need help w the new chap,” you type, biting your lip as you shuffle through letters on the small keyboard, “Can I come over?”
“Sure, see you soon.” His reply comes quickly, making your heart race. 
With a nervous sigh, you push yourself up from your chair, groaning as you take a second to stretch before striding over to your small dresser. “I’m going to his,” you say, glancing over at Louise, “I’m officially waving the white flag on this chapter.”
“Wear lingerie!” She says quickly, practically skipping over to you and leaning against the wall next to you.
“What?” You laugh, shooting her a questioning look, “Why would I do that?”
“Duh!” She huffs with an eye roll, “Put in some effort to fuck him and it might help get the message across.”
“How do you know we’ve been–”
“Your room is right next to mine,” she points out, looking at you tiredly, “And the walls in this ancient building are thin as paper. Come on.”
“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up in surrender with a laugh before pulling open your underwear drawer; as convoluted as Louise’s plan was, you couldn’t exactly see a downside to fancying up a little, “Any suggestions?”
“Hmm,” she hums, shuffling through the small pile of fancy lace you had shoved in the corner of the drawer, “Ooh, these!” She chimes victoriously, holding up a lacy bra, “This color always looks so good on you, you’ll make his head explode.” 
With a nod, you grab the bra and matching underwear from her, “If this doesn’t help, I will be holding you personally accountable.” You laugh, seeing her politely turn away from you in the corner of your eye as you begin pulling your clothes off. 
“I mean, it is still on you to actually say something,” she chuckles, peering out the window as she waits for you to change, “Honestly, if it was me, I would’a locked that shit down ages ago. The sounds I hear coming from this room…” She jokes, shaking her head.
“Sounds?” You ask, your face flushing as you hurriedly clasp the thin bra behind your back, “You can hear us?”
“You two are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” she laughs, “I mean, who would’ve thought that little nerd had it in him?”
“He has hooked up with people,” you defend, pulling on a t-shirt and skirt, short enough that you knew it would make the blond’s head spin, “He’s not totally helpless.”
“Hookups are different than boyfriend dick,” Louise points out, shuffling back on your bed until her back was resting against the wall next to it, “And based on all the screams I hear from you, Michael has boyfriend dick.” 
With a laugh, you roll your eyes, not even bothering to question her as you shove your things into your backpack. Sitting down at your desk chair, you pull your small mirror over and give your hair and makeup one last look over, glancing back at Louise as she continues, “I mean, come off it, babes. You don’t even make those noises by yourself.”
“You can hear me?!” You squeak out, whipping your head around.
“The walls are paper thin!” She laughs, “I’m sure you can hear me too, and everyone else. You honestly think that doesn’t go both ways?”
“Ha ha,” you say dryly, slipping on your shoes before standing and grabbing your keys from the small hook next to the door of your room, “I’m going, can you lock my door when you leave?” 
“Yup!” Louise chirps, not bothering to look up from her phone as she waves you off, “Go get that nerd dick!”
With a sigh and an eye roll, you pull your door closed.
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You make it to Michael’s in record time and pause in front of his door, giving yourself a minute to calm down before you nervously knock. 
Almost instantly, the door swings open. The thought that he might’ve been perched next to it, waiting for you to show up, makes your chest squeeze as you murmur a hello. 
“Hiya, pretty.” He says lowly as you move past him, closing the door and watching as you dump your backpack by his bed. His room wasn’t much different than most other guy’s dorms you’d been in – sparsely decorated with only the essentials, although you did appreciate the posters and pictures Michael had hanging up. There were all sorts of different ones pinned to the dark wooden walls, from bands he liked to small polaroids of his pets from home. Every time you were here, though, your heart couldn’t help but hurt a little as you never saw pictures similar to some of the ones you had up – ones with friends. 
“Needed some help from little old me?” He teases. 
“Yes, oh my God!” You sigh, your dramatics making him crack a smile as he takes a seat at his desk, “This new chapter is doing my head in!”
“Alright, alright love,” he murmurs, signature smirk poised on his lips as his blue eyes peer at you from behind his glasses, “Get your things, I’ll see if I can help.”
With a nod, you pull your notebook from your backpack as he turns to the chapter in his own textbook. As you move, you can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in everything from the dark red t-shirt he wore, complete with a cheesy maths pun on the front, to how ruffled his golden hair was, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Maybe the light was playing tricks on you, but you swore you saw him glance over at you a time or two too. 
“Haven’t heard much from you this week,” you start, pulling up the extra chair he kept in a corner of his dorm room, “How’ve you been? Oh! And how did that paper for your calculus class turn out?” You ask, glancing at him as you flip through the pages of your notebook, looking for where you’d left off. 
“Oh, yeah,” he clears his throat, leaning an elbow on his desk, “The paper was great, actually. Thank you for your help by the way,” his lips curve up in a sheepish grin, “I’ve always been a bit shit at writing.” 
“Yeah, no problem,” try to ignore the way your stomach twists at his gratitude, “I’ve always been shit at maths so it works out.” You joke, pride filling your chest when he chuckles. The longer you’d spent working with Michael, the more comfortable the two of you became, and slowly but surely he’d let his guard down. He was still the same cocky, downright arrogant prick in class but when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t help but notice that he’d grown…softer. Those sharp, taunting edges of his had been smoothed a little, sanded down by jokes he shared with you rather than sarcastic jabs directed at you. 
“Mmm,” he hummed, those blue eyes you’d grown so enamored with sparkling with mirth, like he was always just one step ahead of you, “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You’ve improved a lot,” your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life, whirling around wildly at the simple compliment, “Not nearly as much of a dummy as you were a few weeks ago, yeah?” He finishes, lips tugged up in a viciously smug smile as he watches the way your eyes grow wide, the way the pink hues making their home on the apples of your cheeks bloom ever brighter, extending almost all the way to your neck. 
“Michael,” your voice is hoarse as you croak his name, desperately willing your mind to stay on track, “C-Can we focus on the notes, please? I really do need help, I mean maybe later we can–”
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he says, blessedly cutting off your nervous babbling, “What’s giving you problems, pretty?”
“Uhh,” you fumble, kicking yourself internally as you scramble to reset your brain, “The stuff we went over last week,” you flip through your notes, finally pointing your pen at the hastily scribbled notes you’d taken in class, “The monthly investment stuff; I guess the formula Professor Davies went over just seems really complicated to me. Like, I was having a really hard time following it in class with the way he was explaining it.”
Michael nods his head as he listens, his eyes quickly scanning over your notes before flitting to the accompanying pages in his nextbook as he lets out a sigh. “Ahh, okay,” his fingers brush over yours as he takes your pen, once again sending your mind into a flurry as you blink, desperately trying to clear the fog that seemed so determined to invade your brain, “So, remember the compound interest formula we went over earlier?” 
You nod as he peers over at you, admittedly only halfway listening as your heart hammers in your chest. “Uhm, y-yeah,” you nearly whisper before clearing your throat, “Yeah.” You nod once more, trying to keep your voice steady as you watch him scrawl notes on your paper; your eyes glaze over as you observe the way his long fingers hold your pen, making it all too easy to imagine those same fingers sliding into your mouth and holding your tongue down as he whispers filthy things into your ear, skirting their way into your underwear and curling just right against –
“It works similarly,” Michael continues, hunched over the textbook as he copies down a sample problem, “So, the monthly investment formula is basically just the yearly salary over twelve months. I think the formula is getting to you, but it’s not really that complicated in practice.”
You nod your head dutifully, his voice sounding muffled to your ears as your thoughts continue spiraling, lewd thoughts of his fingers and cock playing like a video on the backs of your eyes. He hands the pen back to you as he finishes copying down the question, gazing at you expectantly as you look over the problem. 
“Okay, so, uhm,” you stammer, eyes desperately scanning over the page as if the answer will magically reveal itself to you, “So…you’d divide these…?” You ask timidly, already knowing you’re wrong. 
“You aren’t paying attention at all, love,” he says, not even needing to question it as he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “What’s going on in that pretty head, hm? What got you so distracted?” He rasps, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, even that simple action damn near causing you to whimper. 
“I don't,” you swallow, mouth dry as your eyes flutter shut for a half second before reluctantly meeting his, heart pounding wildly in your chest as the smirk on his face makes a graceful reappearance when he sees the glazed over, near empty look on your face, “I don’t know.” You finish finally, voice breathy despite your best efforts.
“Hmm,” he hums again, trailing that hand down your neck and the side of your arm before finally letting it rest atop the thigh closest to him, his touch practically burning your skin, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s taken over that empty fuckin’ head.”
Before you even have a chance to reply, his hands are on your hips. He firmly pulls you into his lap, lithe frame disguising his true strength as he settles you atop his thighs. 
“Michael, I–”
“Hush,” he commands softly, warm hands skirting over your waist as he tugs you back into him, your back pressing into the familiar expanse of his chest once again, “I know exactly how to help, pretty girl.” He whispers, his breath fanning over your cheek before he presses a light kiss there, trailing them down over the side of your neck as his hands slip under the bottom of your t-shirt. His touch makes shivers cascade down your spine as you feel his hands ghost over your stomach before they cup your breasts; he lets out a pleased hum when he feels the delicate lace of your bra, which does nothing to hide your already pebbled nipples as they press against the palms of his hands.
“I think,” he continues, chuckling darkly when he already hears small whines escaping past your lips as he continues massaging your breasts, “You need that wet little cunt played with, hm? I know she’s already dripping, pretty.” His voice is rough as he speaks, his hips grinding up into you, making you mewl on his lap as you feel his cock already poking against you even through the jeans he wears.
“P-Please,” you whine brokenly, embarrassed to already be reduced to such a state, “Please, Michael, I need…fuck, I need something, anything, please!” You’re used to begging for him by now, the two of you have hooked up enough over the past few weeks that you know he loves how whimpery and desperate you get, loves to hear the little hitch in your voice when you beg and plead with him so. 
“Not Michael,” he grunts, roughly pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, just enough to make you cry out and squirm on his lap, “Try again.”
“Oh–,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips desperately wriggle on his lap, tantalized by the feel of him, even through all the layers of clothing between you, “Sir! Sir, please!” 
He huffs out a laugh, low and raspy in your ear as he trails one hand up, poking it through the collar of your shirt to wrap it lightly around your throat – not enough to choke you, but just enough to remind you of your place. “Someone must be feeling extra stupid today, hm? Haven’t been sir in weeks, love, you know that.” 
A hungry whine claws its way past your lips as your head tilts back onto his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as your cheeks heat up, trembling in his lap. This has been his favorite part, experimenting with that one little name it takes so much for you to say. It’s funny really, eventually he’d admitted to only hearing it in a porno, not something he could attribute to his string of experiences with one night stands. You’d just been the first person he’d been intrigued about enough to try it on; he was hooked the moment he saw your reaction and had slowly worked it into your little routine, requiring you to day it, to beg him so prettily with it, before he’d ever give you what you wanted. 
“Come on now,” he groans, the movements of your hips finally getting to him, “Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll keep this precious cunt occupied so that that little head can work properly.” His hand abandons your breast, a laugh rumbling through him at your cries as he trails it up one thigh, slipping it under the bottom of your skirt. 
“Daddy!” You finally blurt out, the ache in your core finally growing too big for you to keep denying, “Please, daddy, please, just… fuck, just do something!”
“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he coos, half laughing as he slips his hand up under your skirt, cupping your throbbing center over the thin lace of your panties, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are under his touch, “No wonder you can’t think straight, hm? So messy.”
You whimper helplessly in his lap,  hands scrabbling before they tightly cling to the forearm he has halfway under your skirt. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe heavily, head swimming as his fingers press down on your aching clit before circling the bud slowly, the lace of your underwear only adding to the fire building within you, “Oh, my God!”
Michael grunts lowly into your ear as he twirls his fingers against you, nipping at your neck as he rocks against you from below. “Here’s how this is gonna go, love,” he whispers lowly, speeding up the movements of his long fingers against you, “If you can get the formula right, you can come…”
“Wha–!” You splutter, your chest already heaving as you struggle to catch your breath, nails digging into his forearm as you feel the knot in your stomach already beginning to tighten; Michael had made it his mission over the last few weeks to learn every little thing that made you tick, and Christ, if he wasn’t a fast learner, “T-That’s not–”
“If you can’t get it right,” he continues, smirking against your cheek as he presses his fingers ever tighter into the column of your throat, “Then I’ll just keep edging and edging you until I’ve gotten my fill of those precious fucking noises you make, hm?”
You struggle in his hold, not getting very far as his touch has already reduced your muscles to jelly. Your hips keep rutting up into his fingers despite your feeble attempts to stop yourself, knowing he absolutely means to make good on his threats. With a defeated whine, you let your head loll to the side on his shoulder, burying your face against the pale expanse of his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathe in his now-familiar scent, although that only serves to put you more on edge. 
Michael suddenly moves, sitting up straighter in his desk chair and bringing you with him, causing you to yelp a bit. He keeps a steady hold on you as he leans forward, his fingers never ceasing their circular movements on your aching clit as he tilts you forward, angling your head so you’re once again face-to-face with the textbook and notes still laid out on the desk. 
“Now,” he starts, resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scan over the pages in front of you both, seemingly wholly unbothered with your current state, “What’s the first step?”
You can feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears as you blearily look over the paper, your eyes not really focusing on anything as you feel the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter with each movement of his hands against you. 
“M-Michael, I–” Your voice sticks in your throat, your hips moving entirely of their own accord in his lap as your walls clench desperately around nothing, that familiar growing ache nearly taking over your entire center as your breath hitches. 
“Ooh,” he murmurs with saccharine sympathy, quickly pulling his fingers from you just before you fall over the edge; you can feel him smirking wickedly against your cheek as you twitch against him, letting out mournful little whines, “That was a close one, wasn’t it, pretty girl?”
The room feels as if it’s spinning as you come down from your almost-high, your walls throbbing as low cries slip past your lips. “F-Fuck…” you sigh hoarsly, hips still pathetically twitching against his jean-clad lap. 
“I know you know this,” his breath is warm against your cheek as he angles his head toward yours, blond hair tickling the side of your face as he peers at you from behind his glasses, “Be a good fucking girl and tell me which step is first and I’ll touch you again.”
Your eyes frantically scan over the problem as you will yourself to remember something, anything, from one of Professor Davies’s lectures last week, your hands abandoning Michael’s forearm to white-knuckle the edge of his desk instead as you try to steady yourself. 
“Y-You, uhm, you multiply,” you start, swallowing heavily as something finally seems to click together in your brain, “You multiply the exponents, daddy.” 
You practically preen under his touch as you feel more so than hear the pleased hum he lets out. “Very good,” he drawls slowly, pressing soft kisses against your cheek, “See? I knew there was something going on in that head of yours.” You know he’s taunting you on purpose, pulling out every trick he knows will make you blush, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel your heart soar with his praises. 
A loud moan tumbles past your lips as he resumes touching you, his fingers once again teasing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, the aching bud now all the more sensitive to his touches after you were denied an orgasm. You nearly double over on his lap as pleasure immediately zings up your spine, your muscles tensing in his hold. 
His hand abandons your throat and pulls out from under your shirt completely as he reaches for your pen and quickly scribbles down the first step of the formula, easily multiplying the numbers in his head before setting your pen back down. 
“Now then, what’s next, love?” He chuckles meanly against your cheek as you whine. He groans appreciatively as he feels your arousal leaking into your panties, soaking the fabric against his fingers while his other hand comes up to cup your breast over your shirt, feeling your aching nipple pressing against his hand even through the fabric. 
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This game continues for what feels like an eternity, his fingers delicately teasing you right up to your breaking point before he cruelly yanks his hand away as he quizzes you again and again until you slowly but surely work your way through each step of the problem. 
You’re a sweaty mess on his lap now, skin damp and flushed as he pulls his hand away for what must be the hundredth time, although in reality it’s only the fifth. You let out a feeble whine, long past begging and pleading as you know it won’t do any good. 
“You’re so close,” he teases, chuckling to himself at the double meaning of his words, “Just need to solve it now, pretty baby. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll make you come.” He promises, patting his fingers over the soaked patch on your panties just enough to make you jump. 
“D-Daddy, please!” You sniffle, no longer trying to reign in the tears streaming down your cheeks as your center aches and clenches, empty, “Please, I need–”
“You need to answer the fucking question,” he grunts through clenched teeth, one hand still cupping your spasming center while the other shoots up to your neck, angling your head toward the paper once more, “You asked me for help, love. And I’d say this is helping; looks like that empty little brain is able to recall information after all.” He teases, smirking cruelly as he ruts against your ass, taunting you with his hard length yet again. “Come on,” he continues, urging you on, “You’re doing so, so well for daddy. Just need the last little bit.”
Your head spins as you look at the paper and you halfway wonder if your fingers have made intents in the wood of his desk yet, “It’s, it’s the yearly salary,” you say quickly, voice high-pitched and breathy, “T-The yearly salary over twelve, fuck, m-months.” You rush out, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Somehow, more blood seems to rush to your cheeks as he gasps in fake surprise, really laying it on thick for you. “Oh, what a good girl!” He praises, arms wrapping around you tightly as you squirm in his hold, his warm body pressing against yours only making your need greater, “I knew you could do it, that’s right, love!” 
Quickly, he multiplies the numbers you indicated, mumbling under his breath as he quickly thinks through the equation. A few seconds later, you hear your pen moving against the paper as he scribbles down your answer, circling it with an over-done flourish. 
“You’ve done it!” He coos happily, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your cheek, trailing them down your jaw and neck, “You want your prize now?” He asks lowly, trailing his hand back up your thigh slowly, fingers just barely skimming over your throbbing center. 
All at once, you seem to come back to yourself as the fog lifts momentarily behind your eyes as your desperation drives you. You nod your head frantically as you turn on his lap, finally facing him and relishing the sweet, proud smile spread across his lps. 
“Please, Michael, daddy,” you ramble, pressing kisses against his cheeks and neck before he finally angles his head and catches your lips with his; the two of you sigh into the kiss, yours morphing into a desperate whine as you press your chest against his, shivering as your nipples peak from the warmth of his body alone. His tongue licks along your lower lip before he gently nips at it, chuckling as you mewl into his mouth as his tongue meets yours. You kiss him frantically, sighing happily when he delicately sucks your tongue into his mouth before you pull away with a whimper. “Please, please, I need it,” you murmur against his lips, clinging to his shoulders, “I can’t wait any longer, please!”
He shushes you with a soft laugh, hands skimming over your waist. “D’you want my mouth or my fingers, pretty girl?” He mutters softly, holding you steady on his lap.
“Mouth!” You answer instantly, making him chuckle at your desperation, “Please, please!”
“On the bed,” he commands, giving you one last kiss before pushing you up, helping to steady your shaky legs, “Good girl.” He praises again, patting your ass teasingly when you finally steady yourself enough to cross the room, stopping to kick off your shoes quickly before sitting yourself down on the bed.
Michael follows after you, smirking as he kneels on the bed, one foot still on the floor. He smiles and cups both of your cheeks, kissing you once more like he can’t get enough. “You, pretty girl, are very overdressed,” He drawls, waiting for your subtle nod before pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor by the bed. “Holy…” his eyes are wide as he stares at your chest, taking in the way the delicate lace perfectly cups your breasts, nipples visible through the thin material, already hardened from his earlier ministrations. 
Upon seeing his reaction, you get bold. Smirking, you pull up your skirt, spreading your legs as you draw your knees up to your chest, giving him a perfect view of your matching panties; the lace, long since soaked through with your arousal, practically glimmers in the low lamp-light of his room. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand adjusting his hard length, straining against his jeans as his blue eyes sweep over you, taking in every flawless inch, “To what do I owe the honor, hm?” He finally collects himself, smirking again as he reaches out to lightly skim a finger over the soft silk of one strap of your bra. He’s never seen you in something this nice, and certainly never a matching set, the sight of the soft lace against your skin would be enough to make him finish in his jeans if he weren’t careful. 
“Wanted to wear something special for you…” You say with a small shrug, heat rising to your cheeks once again as you look up at him shyly through your lashes. 
He tilts his head to the side, clearly not picking up on the deeper meaning behind your words as he squints his eyes at you, confused. “Why…why would you wanna wear something special for me, love?” He questions softly, his voice coming out more as a breath than words. 
“Michael,” you sigh, squirming under his affectionate gaze as you gather every ounce of confidence in your body. You swallow as your eyes dart between his, your heart quickly speeding up in your chest; you take a deep breath, Louise’s words echoing in your head, “I…I really like you.” You say simply, carefully watching his reaction.
“You…do?” He asks slowly, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his eyes widening as he watches you nod with a shy smile. “Why me?” His voice is smaller this time, his whole body seeming to deflate as he sits back on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped as one foot still rests against the wooden floor. 
“Why wouldn’t I like you?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, head cocking to the side as you move closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. 
He sighs heavily, glancing up at you before looking down to where your hand rests on his leg, “No one really does.” He finally sighs, his eyes downcast.
Without thinking, you move closer to him, pressing yourself against him as you practically climb into his lap. This time, it’s your turn to gently cup his cheeks, your thumbs resting just under the gold rims of his glasses as you angle his head toward you. “I do,” you say softly before frowning a bit, pulling away just an inch, “Do…do you not feel the same way?”
“No!” He says quickly, shaking his head as he grabs at you, pulling you back toward him, “I mean yes! I mean,” he sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as he swallows heavily, “I do like you, I– Fuck, I don’t know who I’m kidding, I’ve never liked anyone this much,” he says softly, smiling as he watches your eyes grow wide, “I just…never thought a girl like you would want much to do with me.”
“What does that mean?” You whisper, heart hammering so hard in your chest you’re sure he can hear it with as little distance as there is between the two of you.
“I…,” he pauses, chuckling bitterly, “I guess I always assumed you’d wind up with Catton or…or one of his little minions. Everyone does.” 
“Everyone?”
He tilts his head up to stare at the ceiling for a second, like he’s willing himself to tell you some deep, dark secret. Finally, he fixes his gaze on you again, one hand fiddling with the seam at the bottom of your skirt. “He was my friend once,” he begins, his voice soft and uncertain, “I don’t think I ever meant much to him, he just took me in as some charity case. To help the weirdo loner boy, I guess.”
You stay silent as he pauses, watching him carefully as he speaks. The corners of his mouth twitch before finally dropping into a frown, his eyebrows pulling together as if he were in pain. 
“I don’t know what happened in the end, to be honest,” he continues, blinking his eyes as he shuffles through memories, “I think maybe I wasn’t falling in line enough – I didn’t just blindly follow him like the others. He must’ve gotten tired of it cause one day I got to school and everyone just acted as if I wasn’t there, even mates I’d had before. They all just got pulled into his orbit and left me.”
“Michael…” you coo softly, thumbs lightly brushing over his cheeks.
“And then, one night I went to the pub with– with Oliver.” He practically spits his name, nose twitching with anger. 
“Oliver?” You question, the name ringing a bell as your eyes narrow, trying to picture his face, “Oliver Quick, you mean?”
He nods, eyes flitting around his room before they settle on you again. “He was my friend…I thought he was anyway. Way back at the start of term,” he sighs, lips pulling up in a sardonic smile, “We went to the pub one evening to celebrate finally finishing some paper or whatever, and…you were there.”
“I was?” You pull back from him a fraction of an inch in shock, your eyes flitting over his face.
“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head, “Sitting at a table with Catton and all the rest of the cunts.”
“Felix and I were never that close Mich–”
“And I got up to get another pint and when I got back…he was gone.” He continued, huffing out a bitter laugh. 
“Oliver?”
“Yep,” he nods, hands gripping your waist more firmly as if he’s trying to anchor you to him, “He’d gone to sit with you lot and never so much as looked my way again. Then, once Professor Davies’s class started, I…Fuck, I liked you from the minute you walked through the door on the first day, love.”
“You did?” You smile at his confession, thinking back to all those months ago.
He hums again, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, glasses smushed against his cheek, “‘N then I realized where I knew you from and I…lost hope. Got jealous. Doesn’t matter I just…I was so determined not to like you.”
“But…you do?”
He hums again, nodding against your cheek, “I remember kicking myself when I agreed to tutor you,” he laughs, breath fanning over your neck and collarbone, “But you’re really not like them, hm?”
You shake your head emphatically, holding him tighter to you as if that will somehow better prove your point, “I’m not.” You say simply, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 
The two of you stay silent for a moment before Michael’s shoulders start shaking a little; you pull back a bit, worried that he’s upset until you see he’s laughing, gazing at you as if you were some ethereal being. “I cannot believe you fucking like me,” he laughs, damn near giggling, “No one bloody likes me.”
You can’t help but laugh with him, leaning your forehead against his. “Well, fuck them,” you say firmly with a cheeky grin, “I like you enough for every damn idiot in this school.”
The two of you laugh together for another moment before you feel that familiar heat building in your belly again, never able to stave it off very long when you’re in his presence. Michael must feel it too, one second you’re laughing with him and the next his fingers are threading through the hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a hard kiss, pressing his lips desperately against yours as if he’s trying to prove to himself you won’t disappear. You whimper softly as his tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing his groans as you move your lips fluidly against his before he pulls away quickly.
“Gotta fucking taste you, love,” he whispers roughly, hands blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. You feel it pop open a moment later, a low, victorious hum sounding from his chest as he finally pulls it off, tossing it off the bed to land next to your shirt, “Fuck, I love these tits.” He groans hotly, quickly kissing down your shoulder and chest before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, making you gasp loudly.
“Oh, fuck!” You moan, eyes squeezing shut as you finally feel his mouth on you, head spinning at the way his tongue teases over your sensitive nipple before he sucks it into his hot mouth, “Michael, please, need it!” You whine pitifully, rutting yourself down on his thigh. 
He guides you back gently, coaxing you to lay down on his bed as his hands push up under your short skirt once more to quickly pull your panties down, tossing them over his shoulder. “Not Michael, baby, remember?” He asks teasingly, pushing your thighs up and hooking his hands behind your knees. 
He guides your knees up and up until your knees are pressed against your chest, all the while pressing soft kisses to the backs of your thighs as he peers up at you over his gold-rimmed glasses, strands of blond hair resting against his forehead. 
“Please, daddy!” You correct yourself quickly, not wanting to take any chances of him teasing you further. You wiggle your hips in his grasp, making him chuckle lowly as he presses kisses closer and closer to where you want him. Giggling, damn near giddy with the excitement of having his mouth on you, you reach down and gently pull his glasses off and reach up to set them on the small table beside his bed. 
“Shh, you’ll get it,” he promises, breath hot against your slick folds as he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, groaning appreciatively when he sees how wet you are, how your pussy clenches tightly around nothing, “You earned it, my love.” 
The pet name sends you into a tailspin almost as much as the feeling of his warm tongue pressing against your clit does. You let out a long, satisfied moan at the feeling of it, arching your hips up into his mouth. 
His groan of satisfaction vibrates through you, only adding to the sensations of his lips and tongue on your aching center. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles, releasing his hold on one thigh to run two long fingers through your slick, gathering it as he teases your entrance, “It’s been far too long.” He groans, speaking more to your throbbing core than you, the thought sending another zap of pleasure swirling up your spine. 
“It’s been, like, a week!” Your giggle turns into a breathy moan as he kisses your clit, gently suckling it between his lips as he carefully slips two fingers into you, immediately crooking them up against the spot that he knows will drive you wild. 
“Too long,” he grunts into your folds, tongue sweeping over the length of you before he teases it at your clit. “Fuck, if I could eat this sweet little cunt every day, I would.” 
Your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches as he feasts on you, shaking his head back and forth to bury his face further into your heat. He growls into you as he licks into your entrance, removing his fingers for a moment to fuck his tongue into you, savoring your sweet taste while the tip of his nose rubs perfectly over your clit. 
“Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp, body jerking and twitching as pleasure floods through you, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight at just a few touches, “D-Daddy, I’m— oh, fuck!” You cry, arching your back as he slips his fingers into you, expertly fucking and curling them against that rough patch within you, making stars dance behind your eyelids. 
“Y’getting close?” Michael murmurs around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and laving his tongue over it before letting it slip from his lips with a wet pop, “S’okay, my love, come on. You don’t need to ask for it, baby girl, you’ve earned it, just come.” He coaxes, slipping a third finger in beside the first two and grinning when he hears you cry out at the added stretch.
You breathe heavily, chest heaving as you pant, wanton whimpers and whines spilling past your lips as your fingers weave into his golden hair. Michael’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling, so pleased with himself that he can make you feel this good, that he can pull these sounds from you that he groans, long and low, into your cunt as he licks and sucks at your folds, flicking his tongue over your swollen bud. 
“Can feel you getting tight, pretty girl,” his lips move against your clit as he speaks, “This sweet cunt wants to milk daddy’s fingers, doesn’t she? Fucking let her, baby, come on.” 
The knot inside your belly implodes on itself as your body loses all sense of rhythm, every muscle contracting and relaxing as waves of pleasure finally wash over you. You can feel your walls pulsing around Michael’s fingers as your high consumes you, a garbled moan of his name leaving your lips as you shake against him. 
He doesn’t let up, digits pressing tightly against the spot inside you as he lewdly spits onto your cunt, loudly slurping it up as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, sucking your still-pulsing bud into his mouth as he does. 
“T-Too much!” You whimper, squirming in his hold as you feel yet another high quickly building within you, “Michael, d-daddy, please!” 
“Hush,” he huffs, speeding up his movements enough to make you squeal as tears spring to your eyes, “You know what I want, baby girl, give it to me, let yourself have it.”
You grunt loudly as another wave consumes you, your eyes tightly squeezing shut when you feel yourself contracting around his thick fingers yet again. You’re so lost within yourself, you barely hear the slick, sloshing sounds emanating from your heat, but you certainly hear the deep, proud moan that Michael lets out, eyes widening as he watches your cunt squirt around his fingers, droplets wetting his wrist and the sheets on his bed. 
You’re practically sobbing by the time he slows his fingers to a stop and gingerly pulls his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whimper. “What a good girl,” he says softly, noisily licking his fingers clean of the evidence of your release, “Did so good for me, baby.” 
The soft praises help you come back to yourself, brain returning to your body in just enough time to get a glimpse of Michael’s face before he buries it in your neck, a blush creeping across your cheeks from the shine of your release on his lips and chin. 
“Thank you.” You whisper tiredly, eyes slipping shut as he presses kisses to your neck and jaw. 
He laughs softly, leaning on his side next to you, one hand tracing up and down your body as he looks you over. “You wanna keep going or did I wear you out?” 
You keep your eyes shut even as a playful smile slinks across your lips, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you wiggle your hips enticingly, making him chuckle with you. 
The bed shifts suddenly, causing you to peek one eye open. “There she is,” Michael laughs when you open both eyes fully, watching as he quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor to join yours. He stays on his knees as he unbuttons his jeans, giving you plenty of time to take in his pale chest and stomach, covered in a light wash of blond hair that tapers off to a trail, disappearing beneath the denim around his slender waist, “Want my cock, baby?” He asks, leaning back down beside you as he kicks off his jeans and boxers, cock springing out and resting hotly against your thigh. 
Biting your lip, you can’t help but reach down and stroke him gently, a soft sigh leaving you at the sight of his perfect length. Michael grunts next to you, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he finally feels some stimulation on his cock. The delicate sound makes your heart race, knowing you could bring him such pleasure from such a simple touch. A blush blooms on your cheeks as you gaze up at him through your lashes, eyes wide as you smirk and wiggle your hips enticingly. 
He smiles at you, eyes sweeping over your form admiringly, before finally meeting your eyes, slightly squinting as he looks at you without his glasses. 
“I’ll take that as a yes?” He teases, chuckling as you nod eagerly and tuck your behind your knees, holding your legs up to your chest as your skirt looks around your middle. He leans in and kisses you softly, a certain emotion behind his movements that hasn’t ever been there before. He keeps you close as he moves, never taking his lips off of yours while he maneuvers himself on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs with a pleased exhale. 
Your back arches as you feel him slide his cock between your folds, the head slipping perfectly against your clit. You grasp onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, mewling into his mouth as his hands grab onto the backs of your knees once more, holding you open for him. His lips trail down your jaw and neck, stopping to nip lightly at your skin, before continuing downward to your breasts. He licks and kisses over each one, paying special attention to your nipples and laughing softly at the cacophony of whimpers and whines you make as he teases them with his tongue. 
“I’ve got you,” he sighs, pulling back just enough to grasp his cock, notching the head inside your opening, just enough to make you gasp and squirm, “Y’wanna go dumb on my cock, babygirl?” He says lowly, resting his forehead against yours as he bends down enough to make the muscle in the back of your thigh ache with the stretch. 
“Oh, please!” You breathe, canting your hips up in an attempt to get even just a bit more of his cock into you, “Please, daddy!” 
With a growl, Michael slowly slips inside you, humming deep in his chest as he does, his eyes slipping closed as he savors your tight, wet heat. 
“F-Fuck,” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fills you completely, his girth stretching you to the brim, leaving no part of you untouched, “You feel so good!” You whine, eyes fluttering as you try desperately to remain focused on him, never tiring of the expressions he makes when he’s inside you. 
Slowly, he begins thrusting into you, groaning lowly as your fingers grip tighter at his shoulders. His blue eyes roll back in his head, brows furrowing as he slowly speeds up, rocking into you in a perfect motion. 
“Feels so good,” he gasps out, ardently biting and sucking at your neck as he does, angling his hips to make sure the tip of his cock presses against that sensitive spot inside you, “So fucking tight, shit.” 
The two of you move together, his hips smacking against the backs of your thighs as he plunges in and out of you. You can’t help but blush when the wet, squelching sound of your cunt begins drowning out the sharp gasps leaving your lips every time he thrusts back in, the tip of his cock brushing deliciously against the very back of your heat. 
A rumbling laugh sounds in his chest as he hears it too, making you flush somehow deeper as he fixes you with a filthy grin. “Little pussy loves me, huh?” He rasps, groaning at the sight of you trying frantically to answer, your mouth hanging open as useless whines and moans warble past your lips. “She does, hm? Pretty cunt loves daddy’s cock.” 
“Yeah, yeah— fuck!” You mumble, nodding your foggy head as best as you can as you gaze up at him longingly, breasts bouncing along with his thrusts, “L-Love it, daddy, fuck!” 
He moans softly and grinds himself against you, driving you nearly insane as the small thatch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit deliciously. Your arms shoot out, wrapping around his neck tightly and dragging him down to you, needing something to hold onto as your walls clench down hard on his length, every thrust into you making you see stars. 
His hands drop from your knees, arms locking around your neck in turn, pulling you up to him. Your legs lock tightly around his waist, the two of you as pressed together as you can get, your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely as his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face back just enough to meet your eyes, “So pretty, so good.” He chokes out, eyes frantically darting between the two of yours, chest heaving as he pants. 
You mewl harshly as his thrusts speed up even more, eyes nearly crossing as the head of his cock pounds perfectly against each sensitive spot inside you at the same time his abdomen grinds against your sensitive, swollen clit. You claw desperately at his back as you feel your walls clench and pulse around his length, well aware you won’t be able to hold on much longer but unable to warn him. 
Fortunately for you, Michael has committed your tells to memory, even in the few short weeks the two of you have been intimate. “Come,” he commands harshly, gasping out the word just as you feel his length beginning to twitch inside you, “Fuck, come love, come.” 
You nod your head wildly, rutting your hips against his as you shiver, your walls growing ever tighter on his length as you hang helplessly over the edge of your high. 
“I fucking love you,” he grunts suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in your neck, mouthing uncontrollably at your neck as he keeps mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I love you so—shit, so fucking much! Fucking come, babygirl, come!” 
Your head spins at his confession, heart hammering wildly in your chest as your high slams into you. You seize under him, shaking and crying as you pulse around his length, tears leaking into your hairline while you moan loudly, hips rutting wildly against him as you pull him somehow closer with your legs around his waist. 
In the back of your mind, you hear him grunting harshly into your ear, squeezing the life out of you while he trembles, thrusting harshly into you one, two, three more times before stilling, hard cock pulsing wildly as he empties into you, flooding your walls with his warm spend. 
Both of you pant harshly, a shiny sheen of sweat covering you. After a moment, you finally relax and your legs slip from around his waist, flopping lazily onto his bed. 
You let out a breathy laugh as you look over him, his head still resting against your chest. His blond hair is messy, sticking up in all sorts of ways from where you’d run your fingers through it. Slowly, he relaxes against you too, slumping against you as he sighs tiredly, eventually matching your own spent laugh. Yours eyes slip closed after a moment and you let out a relaxed hum when you feel him tracing shapes onto your shoulder. 
“I love you too.” 
You giggle when his head instantly shoots up, tired eyes immediately meeting yours as he squints, “Y-You do?” The shock on his face is clear and he blushes so heavily the pink color extends all the way to the tops of his ears. 
“For someone so smart you can be really dense,” you laugh, grinning as he sheepishly smiles at you, “How could I not?”
“Say it again,” he asks softly, a clear need in his eyes, “Please.” 
“I love you, Michael Gavey.” You murmur, pushing a strand of hair off of his forehead. 
He preens momentarily, shoulders seeming to square off with a newfound confidence before a familiar smirk lights upon his face. “No need to be so formal about it, love,” he quips, slowly pulling his softening length from your soaked core, shushing you sweetly as he does, “Daddy will do just fine.” 
You roll your eyes with a laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re being an ass as usual!” 
He snickers softly, biting his lip with a groan when he leans back to watch his cum slowly leak from you. “Well, lucky I’m your ass.” He smirks, laying beside you as he rests his head on his pillow. 
“Oh, so you’re mine now?” You ask blithely, skimming a finger down one of his long arms. 
“Mhm,” he hums, surprising you by lifting one of your thighs; you whine when his fingers connect with your center once again, gingerly gathering his cum leaking from you before pressing it back in slowly, working it into you with a smirk, “And you’re all mine, gotta make sure to claim you properly.” 
You shudder at his words, biting your lip as you feel a familiar fog invading your mind once again. You don’t bother protesting, not even attempting to make a quick quip as you lean in and kiss him softly. A hot hand against your cheek makes you pull back, smirking when your eyes finally focus on his fingers, still shining with your combined juices. 
“Jesus,” he breathes as he watches you take his fingers into your mouth, your own hands holding him steady at his forearm as you greedily suck at his fingers, “I fucking love you.” 
“I love you too,” you giggle, finally pulling off his fingers with a soft pop, letting his hand rest against your waist as the two of you lie contently together on his bed, facing each other. 
You see his eyelids begin to droop tiredly, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxes, “You know, you do have to actually help me study later.” You point out, laughing as he groans sleepily. 
“Only if it ends with you on my cock.” He mumbles, pulling him closer to you as his breathing begins to even out. 
“Like it hasn’t ended that way every time before?” You jokingly question as you let your eyes trace over his features, taking in his strong nose and jaw, smiling at the way his lips are still quirked up at the edges. Eventually, your eyes begin to droop too and you snuggle into him, breathing in his familiar scent as you drift off, something woodsy yet bookish, mixed with something that’s entirely Michael.
Your Michael.
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silverdragonfly · 16 days
Text
Time Zone | Aemond x Reader
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader
warnings: none, pure fluff with few implications :) English isn't my first language.
word count: 1.1 K
summary: Day 5. Aemond is still on another continent, 11,000 kilometres and 9 hours away. The best part of the day is when you two chat on FaceTime.
a/n: those photos of Ewan Mitchell got me thinking in this direction. plus, i remembered the song Time Zone by Maneskin, and it turned out to be a great combo. i’d really appreciate your feedback, likes and reblogs 💗 enjoy!
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divider credit @cafekitsune
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The buzz of the smartphone in your hand pulls you fully awake. The screen brightness feels harsh against your eyes as they struggle to adjust. When your vision finally focuses, you see "Aemond 🤍" appear on the FaceTime app. As you sit up, you instantly swipe the arrow to the right to answer the video call. While the connection stabilises, you flick on the table lamp, and the room's greyness vanishes.
A warm smile lights up your face when Aemond’s image finally comes into view. A few silver strands fall across his forehead, making you instantly wish you could pull them back.
“Hi, love,” he murmurs, his rough voice still laced with the remnants of sleep.
“Hii,” you smile sheepishly at him.
“Shit, did I wake you?” His eyes widen in realisation. 
“No, it’s alright!” you reply, noticing your dishevelled reflection in the corner of the screen.
“I’m so sorry!” 
“It’s OK, I just dozed off,” you say, fixing the stray strands. “No way I’d head to bed without talking to you.”
“Next time, I’ll call you before breakfast,” he says firmly. His background contrasts sharply with yours—the day is just beginning in Dubai, a reminder of the vast distance between you.
“How are my girls?” He tilts his head, revealing the gleam of a silver chain.
“Your girls miss you a lot, right, Vhagar?” Adjusting your phone against the pillow, you stand and quickly return holding a Scottish Fold. You sit cross-legged and cradle the cat in your arms, her fluffy grey belly exposed to the camera as she settles into your lap.
“Hi, Vhagar,” he murmurs, a tender smile spreading across his face.
You plant a few kisses between her ears and gently brush her nose with a finger, making her purr contentedly.
“Okay, I see! I’m the third wheel here,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Say hello to daddy,” you say in a high-pitched voice, holding the cat up to the phone.
Aemond chuckles at the nickname.
“What? Technically, you’re her dad.” You pout playfully at him.
“I am,” he nods in acknowledgement, “which means you are her mum, or would you prefer mommy?” The teasing edge in his tone is prominent. 
Your cheeks flush. “Stop it,” you say, petting Vhagar along her back, feeling her soft purring beneath your hands. 
“You wanna say there’s not even the slightest hint when you say ‘daddy’?” 
You fight the tug at the corners of your lips, butterflies flutter in your stomach at the little game. “No, it’s simply for Vhagar.” 
He leans close to the screen as if to expand the video, his eyes narrowing. “Then why do you blush?”
“I don’t! It’s just the lighting.” Vhagar jumps off the bed. “See, you made Vhagar feel awkward.” You triumph in steering the conversation your way.
He snorts, leaning back in the chair. “Alright. When I’m back, we’ll revisit this conversation!”
“Come back sooner,” you whine, clutching the phone as if it could bridge the gap between you. “I wish time would go quicker. I miss you a lot.” 
“I miss you too, love,” his gaze softens. “Trust me, I hate this business trip as much.”
You know he isn’t lying. A few weeks ago, when Otto announced that Aemond would have to travel with Aegon, he nearly lost his temper.
“How’s the negotiation going?”
He shrugs with casual calmness. “Quite well. We’ll seal the deal today.”
You haven’t doubted it could go the other way, not with Aemond. That is the main reason why he accompanies his brother. 
“How’s Aegon?” you ask, not bothering to hide curiosity in your tone. Aegon is a walking drama queen. Wherever he goes, there’ll surely be a story to tell.  
“As always. Business by day, partying at night. Honestly, I will never understand how he juggles those two,” he says, shaking his head with disbelief and condemnation, causing you to giggle.  
“You just have a different routine, that’s it.”
“I’m counting the days until I return to it and you.” His gaze feels intense even through the screen. 
“And to Vhagar,” you add, lying down on your side, biting your lip in a smile.
“And Vhagar,” he agrees. “So, you’ve had your little update. What about mine? What have you been up to today?”
“Mm, nothing special. Baela and I had a yoga class. I don’t know how much time I need to master the advanced poses,” a faint sigh escapes you. “I manage with the basics, but nothing more.”
A cheeky smile plays on his lips as he leans closer to the screen. “Well, you manage advanced poses with me quite well.”
Your toes curl at the implication and the way his deep voice lowers.
“Perhaps it’s because I like you more than my yoga instructor,” you say, rolling onto your stomach.
“I love hearing that. In a few days, we’ll resume our classes. I’m eager for us to try something new.”
Your breath hitches at the promise in his words. Even after a year together, he still manages to overwhelm you.
“Sounds promising,” you murmur, nipping at your lip.
Suddenly, a series of loud knocks echo from the door, making you both startle.
“Give me a moment. I’ll see who it is,” Aemond says, standing up. His grey sweatpants come into view as he moves.
“Sure,” you reply, setting the phone on the bed, your hand feeling numb from holding it.
You hear Aegon’s muffled voice, followed by him saying, “Shit, have I interrupted your phone sex?”
Uncontrollable laughter bursts from you, shaking your entire body.
A few moments later, Aemond returns. “You heard?”
“Yeah,” you admit, taking the phone back into your hands, your cheeks aching from smiling. “His directness is his charm.”
“And my pain in the neck.” His fingers adjust the silver chain, causing warmth to spread in your chest, knowing he’s wearing your gift even miles away.
You look at each other in comfortable silence, your gaze tracing his facial lines, knowing exactly what they feel like under your touch.
“I have to go.” An apologetic flicker appears in his eyes. “And you should try to get some sleep.”
You nod in agreement, despite sensing this night will be filled with tossing and turning without him by your side. But you keep that to yourself.
You force out a cheerful smile. “Have a great day. Best of luck with the deal, and… don’t go partying too much with Aegon.”
He chuckles. “You know I won’t. Sleep tight, love. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
“See you,” you murmur to the screen, prolonging the words in anticipation.
Taking the phone into his hands, he says, “Love you.” It feels like you’ve just been given the warmest and tightest hug. Your chest could explode from the intensity of the feelings within. 
“I love you too,” you reply, noticing the flicker of a smile on his lips before the conversation ends. The photo of you two shines brightly on the screen.
Pressing the phone to your chest, you feel your cheeks still warm with excitement.
Gods, you love him so much.
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samwinchesterswifu · 4 months
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You're All I Need to Get By (Sam Winchester x Reader) Fluff
Early Seasons Era
Song Inspo: "You're All I need to Get By" by Aretha Franklin
Warnings: none
MINORS DNI
A/N: okay okay okay. This is just a cute silly lil fluff I got out of my system, enjoy <3
Word Count: 985
Summary: A small look into how she takes care of her boys.
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Sunshine began to bleed through the worn out curtains of the current motel they were propped up in. Stirring awake, she grins at the realization of the position she was in. Sam’s lanky arm draped over her side with her pulled against Sam’s chest tightly. She places a kiss on his bicep as she begins to struggle out of his grasp to get up for the day. Finally breaking through, she sits on the edge of the bed. Looking over at Dean’s side of the bed doing him a once over to make sure he was alright.
Grabbing a fresh pair of jeans and a clean plain t-shirt from her duffle, she makes her way over to the bathroom to change. Coming out, she grabs Sam’s discarded flannel that laid over the dining table chair and slips on her shoes. Sam’s wallet and the keys to the Impala laid on the same table so she swiftly collects them and makes her way outside.
She liked morning like this, being a morning person like Sam it helped them have little routines even when on the road. She typically woke before either boy did so she was always able to do something nice for them.
Driving towards one of the local diners, she orders breakfast for the three of them to go. Making sure to grab a black coffee for Dean since he never liked starting his mornings with out it. Also ordering a slice of whatever the daily special pie was for said place so Dean could have it later.
Arriving back at the motel, she tries her best to be quiet when unlocking the door with the bags of food in her hands. Upon entering, she notices Sam was no longer in bed, but in the bathroom with the shower running. She sets down the bags and begins to grabs plates from the make-shift kitchen. With her back turned to the bathroom door, she begins to make the boys their plate. Just as she places the plates on the table a warm arm wraps around her waist and she feels a kiss on the side of her head.
“Good morning,” Sam’s gruff morning voice says above her.
Turning around and smiles up at him.
“Good shower?” She asks, earning a soft ‘mhm’ from Sam.
Sam pulls her in a quick hug before taking a look at the table.
“Looks good,” he says sitting down preparing to eat.
She grabs the warm coffee for Dean and makes her way over to his bed. Before she could even open her mouth to awake him, Dean’s hand shot out from his blanket making a grabbing motion.
“Here you go you big baby,” she laughs. Handing the coffee over before making her way back over to join Sam.
Dean join them at the table shortly after. Smiling down at his plate lined with pancakes and bacon. She lets out a small laugh as he begins to stuff his face, smiling up at her.
“Good?” She asks in between bites and Dean nods exaggeratedly.
“Extremely, thanks sweetheart.” Dean says with a mouth full.
“There’s pie in the fridge,” she mentions causally watching as Dean’s eyes light up.
“It’s apple.” She mentions, Dean groans in delight.
“God Sam, you picked a good one.” Dean says waving his fork towards his brother.
Sam laughs echoes the room making her smile between bites.
They make casual small talk about the current case they’re working on as they finish up breakfast. More and more it sounds like a run of the mill vengeful ghost. Dean finishes his food and makes his way towards the shower. Leaving her and Sam to clean up.
They begin to tag-team the dishes. Sam washing down with her drying next to him. She stands there with a deep smile forming on her face, thinking about how lucky she is to have found the brothers, and Sam takes note of the forming smile.
“What’s on your mind?” Sam questions as he continues away at his task.
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” she replies.
“Oh yeah?” Sam asks, turning to face her as he finishes the final utensil, place it on her pile.
“Mhm,” she responds, taking in a quick breath.
“Just a year ago, I was hunting on my own, getting myself in a lot of trouble. One call from Bobby and here you are in my life. I couldn’t ask for anything different,” she says, grabbing the same utensil Sam had placed on her pile a moment ago.
Finally finished with the morning chore, she places everything back in their respective drawer or cabinet and faces him. Arms crossing against her chest she looks up at her lover. Doing a quick once-over of his features. A blush forms on her cheeks as Sam sheepishly rubs the back of his neck at her roaming eyes.
Their eyes meet each other. Sam grabs her elbow as he pulls her close. She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up to steal a kiss. Sam’s hands rest on the dips of her hips, holding her steady. But, was rudely interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening.
Dean enters the room already dressed in his FBI suit.
“Well, come on you two, we have victims to interview.” Dean retorts, grabbing his tie from his duffle.
She groans, looking back at Sam with a shy smile. Sam gives her hips a squeeze and breaks away from their embrace. He grabs his suit and makes his way to bathroom while Dean makes his way outside to the Impala leaving her “alone” in the room.
She shakes her head and begins to make her way back towards the shared bed. Grabbing her pencil skirt and blouse from her bag. Incredibly grateful to have Sam in her life.
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tonysbed · 7 months
Text
Rumour has it | M.V 1
Max Verstappen x Bestfriend!driver!reader
Summary: Your daughter calls Max dad on a press conference, leaving everyone shocked
a/n: yeah idk what came over me
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You had been eyeing your little girl in Pascales arms the whole 20 minutes the press conference had been going. She had been wriggling and squirming in her lap the whole time, pointing at you or max. Pascale seems to tell her no, which makes her even angrier.
Max was speaking when she started crying “Max, dear sorry to interrupt.” you looked over to pascale “Just let her over here, she’s not gonna stop fussing. I think she’s a lil tired after today” you say calmly over to her.
Pascale nods and sets your little girl down who runs up to you. You set her down on your lap “You tired my love?” She only nods and leans against you, eyeing max next to you.
He smiles gently at her and she starts to giggle, which made him laugh. You look between them “You having fun with maxie now?” The look she gave you startled you. She shook her head.
You raise an eyebrow and she extends her arms towards max. You were about to pick her up and give her over to max when she said into your mic “Daaad”
The whole room went quiet and you exchange a look with Charles, who is on your right. His mouth was open and so was everyone else’s “Sorry, what love?” You ask.
She points at max “Dada” You raise both your eyebrows and finally take a look at max. He’s as pale as a ghost. You chuckle and lift her off your lap into max direction “If that’s your definition for him, sure okay”
You lean back into your chair, being completely blown away by the event. Her arms went around his neck and his right arm around her, while his left hand still gripped onto his mic as if his life depended on it.
The press conference continues for another half hour.At the end, your little girl had fallen asleep in max arms and you weren’t gonna wake her up.
“Let’s get back, I’m tired” You say yawning. Back at the Airbnb you lay down on the couch while max brings her to bed.
He comes back a few minutes later. You had closed your eyes, knowing that he would want to talk about what happened.You weren’t sure if you were ready for that conversation yet.
He sat down next to you “I know your awake” His voice was quiet and gentle. You hum.
“Y/n, look at me, please” You open one eye and look at him sitting next to you. His whole body displayed nervousness and just pure panic. You sat up and took one of his hands “Max it’s alright.”
His eyes find yours “You sure, I mean, I’m not her dad and-“
“Then who is?” You say, making him stop. A short silence fell over the room “Exactly”you whisper.
“That’s you.Not some dick who left. You are her dad”
A little smile went over his face and his body relaxed. Your hand still in his, eyes scanning his face. Before you could say anything else, you felt his lips on yours.
His whole body covered your now “Shit, should’ve done that a long time ago” You chuckle “Don’t you dare curse in front of our daughter, Verstappen” You bop his nose and he smiles into your neck, letting his weight onto you.
“I love you” You smile at his whisper “I love you too”
“Mommy! Daddy!” Your head perks over at the little girl at the end of the couch. Max turns a little, now laying at your side and opening an arm for her.
She lays down on your chest, Max’s arm closing around the both of you. His nose bumping yours and suddenly there is another nose and little giggles in the mix.
Max couldn’t have wished for anything else than his two best girls.
-
Got baby fever after seeing max with p istg
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Hugs vs Pain
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Hi everyone!
I went to the dentist today and i'm hurt as hell, so here is a story about it with Ona 🤣
TW : Dentist.
“Ona, Princesa, I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go, I’ll do anything I swear!”
“Baby stop” Ona laughs, rolling her eyes.
She gets out of the car and if you really considered the idea of running away from her and the building you’re facing, your girlfriend doesn’t let you the time to do it. She opens the door of her car and wait patiently that you get out too. Which you did while grumbling.
“Ona, please” you beg.
“No Babe. You literally had fever last week because of that, so you will go in this dental office to get those wisdom teeth removed.”
Under her beautiful smile and her brown doe eyes, Ona is really stubborn. She took an appointment for you when you always find an excuse not to do it and came with you today to be sure that you will be here. Both of you know that if she wasn’t with you, you wouldn’t be here.
Ona takes your hand and drag you with her. The receptionist hides a smile of amusement when she sees both of you. You are clinging to Ona’s hand like if life depends of it.
You almost jump when the dentist come to take you to her office and it’s at that time that Ona realizes that you’re not playing with her or exaggerate things. She knows that you are scared of dentist, you never hide this point to her. The look of horror that you throw her makes her feel bad, before remembering how much you were suffering last week when you admit that your teeth were hurting. Your pain lasts some days before you eventually talked about it to your girlfriend.
When she strokes your forehead, she realize that you had fever too.
“Can I come with you?” Ona asks your dentist softly.
After looking at you, the dentist nods and Ona jumps on her feet to follow you. On the chair, you close your eyes, not wanting to see anything that he will do to you. You are concentrated on Ona’s hand in yours, your girlfriend stroking lovingly your fingers.
The appointment last almost one hour and you almost faint a thousand times. You are feeling strange when you get up from the chair, your legs shaking. You let Ona drags you once again, following her to the desk of the receptionist and then to her car.
“Are you alright?” Ona asks before starting her car.
You grumble for any answer, your mouth still asleep and hurting too. You hate that feeling. Ona stops at the pharmacy near her building to buy some painkiller and antibiotic before you can finally find the comfort of her bed. You realize quickly that the lying position is awful for your pain though.
Ona quickly arranges the bed with her multitude of cushions, so that you can be comfortable sitting, before handing you a glass of water and a painkiller.
“Take this mi Amor” she says.
You sigh but take it anyway. The cold water makes you shiver, and not in a great way, but you hope that it will help you to feel better soon. After you swallow it, Ona takes you against her to cuddle and you let yourself go against her. You feel dizzy and close your eyes. You don’t need more than five minutes before falling asleep.
When you wake up after, you frown realizing that your girlfriend isn’t with you anymore. The place where she was is still hot, meaning that she’s not gone for too long, but she’s still not here. You sit on the bed and start to get up from the bed to look for her when Ona comes back in the room.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“You weren’t here when I woke up” you pout.
Pushing you softly back against the cushion, Ona puts a trail next to you on the bed. You frown while looking at it, seeing a yogurt and a bowl soup. Nothing you really like, but it seems like Ona made the soup herself and you feel your heart fluttered at the idea.
“The dentist said nothing too hot or too cold, so I made a soup but it isn’t really hot. And the yogurt is out of the fridge for several minutes now.”
“Thank you, Oni.” you say with a grateful smile.
“You’re welcome” Ona smiles, sitting next to you again.
You struggle to eat properly to be honest, your mouth is always strange, and you are scared of hurting yourself a little more. Ona proposed to feed you, but you declined, thinking that this situation is already embarrassing enough for you.
When you are finish, Ona takes the trail to put it on her nightstand and takes you again in her arms. She kisses your hair before looking at you.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Very softly” you answer, just unable to refuse her a kiss.
Ona nods and is very careful not to touch your face when she puts her lips against yours.
Your still remember the first time Ona kissed you. It was after taking you home after a game. You already went to two dates before, and she never kissed you at that point. That day, when she walked you to your door, she doesn’t go for the usual kiss on your cheek, but she kissed you right on the lips.
You were so shocked that you didn’t react at first, making Ona believing that she totally misread the situation. She wasn’t, and you had to kiss her yourself to make her stop her repeated apologies in a Catalan way too fast for you.
“I’m sorry that you are in so much pain” Ona mumble against your skin when she kisses your forehead. “If I could, I would take it so you wouldn’t be hurt.”
“I’ll be ok with more cuddle” you mumble, taking one more painkiller with some water.
Like every other time it makes you feel sleepy again and you literally wrap yourself around Ona. You smile when you hear her giggles, hiding your face in the hollow of her neck.
“I love you so much.” you whisper, half asleep.
“I love you even more.”
You hum, not able to answer something else as the sleep takes you away. Ona holds you tenderly against her, gently stroking your back under your t-shirt with her fingertips. She holds you the time you are asleep and is still holding you protectively against her when you wake up.
“Here she is” Ona smiles when you stir, putting her phone on the mattress.
“Hola” you mumble, stroking her neck with your nose.
She shivers slightly and you smile when you realize it.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I always sleep well when I’m in your arms.”
“Painkiller make you all soft?” Ona laughs.
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m hurt” you pout.
Ona laughs again and you can’t do anything but smile. While doing it, you realize that the pain is less strong than before and that’s something to emphasize. Maybe tonight you will be able to eat something other than soup.
You stay like this for several minutes, enjoying Ona’s tender caresses on your body. You kiss her jaw several times, tracing her freckles with your lips.
“Thank you for taking so good care of me” you whisper.
“Always, mi Amor.”
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hqbaby · 2 months
Text
twenty-six — this isn’t us
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.5k content. profanity
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Sukuna didn’t sleep a wink all night. Maybe it was the lack of comfort, the fact that he had to lie on a sleeping bag on the ground beside Mahito tossing form or the way Aoi kept managing to place his foot in his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the whole night, an endless chain of events that had startled his system beyond belief. Maybe it was because Naoya kept waking up every few hours, scrolling through his TikTok with the speakers on full volume before drifting back to sleep with the “Nasty” audio still playing on a loop.
Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t spoken to you after everything that happened. How you’d pushed him away after everyone had regrouped in the living room, saying you just needed some space. How you’d sat cross-legged in front of the fire for a good half hour, ignoring everyone until you decided to get up and go to bed.
It doesn’t matter what caused his bout of sleeplessness. All he knows is that he’s at the table now, everyone chatting away around him as they eat their breakfast, and you’re nowhere to be found.
There’s a palpable tension in the room. While everyone was either plastered or tipsy when everything went down last night, they have a general sense of what happened. No one has spoken about it around Sukuna, but he suspects that the occasional whispering out of his supposed earshot involves a great deal of talk about it all.
Maki and Nobara have been mostly keeping to themselves. Nobara’s more receptive to people coming up and offering her food, exchanging smalltalk about the weather, if they plan on skiing later; Maki not so much.
Sukuna can tell that something has shifted between Satoru and Kimi with the way they keep each other at arm’s length, the former basically attaching himself to Suguru and the latter spending more time with Utahime and Kento. They’re both keeping up relatively normal facades, but Sukuka can see through them. Something has definitely changed.
Everyone’s clearing breakfast away when you finally step out of the room where most of the girls slept last night. The expression on your face is completely blank. It’s like your physical body is here but your mind is elsewhere. You barely register when Nobara offers you the plate she set aside for you earlier.
“Are you gonna hit the slopes with us later?” Utahime asks, a gentle smile on her face as she approaches you.
You’re picking at your pancakes when you shake your head. “I don’t feel too good,” you tell her. “I think I’ll just hang back. You have fun though.”
The tone of your voice kills Sukuna. You sound like you’re reading off a script, the words leaving your mouth in a monotone drawl. It’s so unlike you, so different from your usual jaunt, the way you normally speak like your tongue is bouncing with each word.
“Okay,” Utahime says. She pulls you in for a quick little side hug. “If you change your mind though.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
When most of them clear out to go get ready to ski, Sukuna finds it in himself to get up from his place and make his way over to you. You don’t react when he pulls a chair up, the legs screeching as he drags it across the floor. You don’t even look at him when he sits down and awkwardly arranges himself in the seat.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “You sleep alright?”
You let your fork scrape against your plate. “No,” you tell him. “You?”
“Not at all.”
You hum.
Sukuna can’t bear this, this distance between the two of you, the way you won’t even look at him. You’ve had rough patches before, pieces of time when you didn’t speak after some petty fight or other, but nothing like this. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to deal with the fallout of this kind of situation. It’s never happened before.
“Can we talk?” he asks—although it sounds more like he’s pleading than anything.
He watches as you gnaw your lower lip. You stop poking at your food. You shake your head. “I don’t think—”
“Please,” he says. “We don’t even have to talk about our shit. We can deal with that later. I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”
You sigh. “Sukuna,” you say softly. “I don’t want to—”
“Let me be your best friend right now.” His voice is desperate. He’ll take anything at this point. Anything. If you’d only let him in, if you’d just stop putting this wall between the two of you. “Just let me be here for you. This isn’t us. We don’t act all cold with each other, we talk. We always talk.”
“Sukuna,” you say, harder now.
“Just talk to me,” he says, taking your hand in his. “Don’t push me out, don’t—”
“Sukuna!” You pull your hand away, eyes finally meeting his. He looks so hurt, so disappointed. All you can think is, This is your fault. You’ve broken your best friend. The one good thing in your life, and you’re pushing him out.
You’re doing what you always do. What you suspect you always will.
“You should go with them,” you tell him.
He shakes his head, adamant. “I don’t want to. I want to be with you.”
Part of you wants him to stay. You want him to hold you like he always does when things in your life are in shambles. You want him to be there for you. You want to accept all the comfort he’s offering you. All the familiarity that comes with him, all the love you’ve grown accustomed to.
But there’s another part of you that clings to the thoughts of last night. The whole mess of your life laid out before you, each piece carefully polished and displayed for you to see. A whole load of baggage that you don’t think you have the strength to hoist onto his lap, to let him deal with.
And then there’s the quiet voice in the back of your head, not your own. An afterthought. A misunderstanding, you’re sure, barely even relevant in the grand scheme of things, but a lingering doubt nonetheless.
Satoru’s voice whispers in the corner of your mind.
“He cheated on you.”
You still don’t know what that means.
You know that if you let Sukuna in, you’re going to have to ask him about it. You’re going to have to find out whatever it is that Satoru is supposedly lording over your best friend. And you don’t know if you’re ready to hear his answer.
As much as you know Sukuna and you know how much he cares about you, how much people misconstrue his actions, his intentions, who he really is—you’re starting to think that you don’t really know anything right now. Everything that happened last night was a direct cause of you not seeing the whole picture, taking things at face value.
Maybe you were wrong about Sukuna.
Maybe everyone was right.
Maybe he really was a bad idea all along.
“Go with them,” you say weakly. “I need time to think.”
“I don’t need time,” he tells you, placing his hands on the table as he leans towards you. “We already took too much time getting here. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to talk.”
He seems so sincere, so sure of everything. Could he be lying? Has he been lying all along?
You inch away from him and look back down at your plate. “I can’t,” you tell him. “Please. Just give me this. I promise we’ll talk later.”
“When?”
“When I’m ready.”
“And when will that be?”
“Sukuna—”
“Stop saying my name like that,” he says, nose wrinkling in disgust.
You frown. “Like what?”
“Like I’m some asshole stranger that you don’t know, that doesn’t know you,” he says. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t think for a minute that any of that’s changed.”
That pulls you out of your thoughts, even by just a little. Still, there’s a nagging feeling in your chest. One that knows that nothing can happen between the two of you until you finish what you started last night. Until you deal with Satoru.
You reach your hand over and place it on top of his. “Later,” you say. “I promise.”
He looks at you for a moment, studies the furrow of your brow, the downturn of your lip. Then, hesitantly, he nods. “Okay,” he says. “If you promise.”
“I do,” you tell him, offering a weak smile. “I just need a minute to catch my breath. We’ll talk as soon as I’m ready, okay?”
“Okay,” he says. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”
You squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
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You wave at them through the window as they gather outside the house, some excitedly prancing around, some rolling their eyes at the excited prancing, some—mainly Sukuna and Maki—looking like they would rather be anywhere but there.
When they’re gone, you walk away from the window and press your back against the wall. You slide down onto the floor and feel a weight descend on you. The weight of everything. The confusion, the helplessness, the despair of the previous day sinking into your bones.
You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out, blink at the contact name on your screen, and answer the call.
“Mom? Is everything okay?”
“I’m getting out of here,” you hear her speak on the other line. There’s a lot of noise wherever she is. Things being thrown, being pulled, being pushed together.
You straighten up. “What?” you say. “What happened?”
She huffs. “I can’t live with him anymore. He’s a fucking asshole!” The last part is yelled, not to you but to someone else. “Are you at your apartment?”
“No,” you tell her. “I’m on a trip with friends. Mom, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she says. “I’ve just had enough. You were right. He’s never going to change.”
“Dad?”
“Who else would I be talking about?” You hear her sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m going to stay with your aunt for a few days. When does your trip end?”
“Tomorrow,” you answer. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically, no,” she says. “I’m fine. Go enjoy the rest of your trip, I’ll head to your place when you come back. We’ll talk then.”
You furrow your brows. “Sure,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, baby,” she tells you. “I just wanted you to let you know what’s happening. I’ll see you soon.”
She hangs up before you can ask her again if everything is okay. If she needs your help.
You put your phone down and stare at it as the screen goes black again.
Great. Another thing you have to worry about.
“Oh.”
You look up and find Satoru standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise.
“I didn’t know you were here,” he says. “I thought you went with them.”
You shake your head. “I don’t trust myself to ski right now,” you tell him. “If I fell, I probably wouldn’t have the strength to get up.”
He lets out a soft chuckle at that. “I get what you mean.” He makes a few cautious steps towards you, then looks at the spot beside you. “Mind if I sit?”
You shrug. “Go ahead.”
He crouches down, grunting as he plops himself onto the carpet. “Remind me to never climb up the roof again.”
“Why’d you go up to the roof?”
“Hide and seek,” he answers like it’s so obvious. “You gotta do what you gotta do to win, you know.”
“To be fair, I’d say that I won the game last night.”
“Only ‘cause you cheated.”
“I did not cheat.”
“You were literally unreachable!” he says. “Kento had to find a crowbar to get you out!”
You smile. “Haven’t you heard? You gotta do what you gotta do to win.”
The two of you laugh, and it feels nice. It’s a good reprieve after everything. It isn’t much but it’s enough to not make you feel as shitty as you’ve been feeling.
Satoru leans back and nudges your shoulder with his.
“I’m sorry for all the yelling last night,” he says. “And for what I said.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t cool, man,” you say. “But it’s okay. You were upset. It was… a lot to take in.”
He nods. “I still shouldn’t have done that.”
“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done,” you tell him quietly. “I’m really sorry, you know.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
You turn to him when you feel him shuffle, finding him reaching into his pocket for something. He pauses, like he’s considering his next actions very carefully, then he pulls the thing out of his pants and places it on the sliver of space between the two of you.
“Here,” he says. “That’s yours.”
You stare at the small box. It’s a dark blue velvet, in stark contrast to the white of the carpet. You frown. “What is that?”
He pushes it closer to you. “Open it.”
You glance at him, then at the box, then at him, then back at the box. Slowly, you pick the thing up. It’s light, so light you’d think there was nothing inside. It sits in the palm of your hand for a moment before you carefully pry it open.
The ring sits in the middle. A simple one, a silver band and a diamond set in the middle. It’s not the kind of ring that calls attention to itself, but you’d notice it on anyone’s finger. You couldn’t not look at it.
“Satoru, what is this?”
You look at him and find him staring at the ring. He swallows and lets his shoulders drop.
“Your ring,” he tells you softly. “It’s not much, but I thought you’d like it. I know I probably should’ve asked you about it—I read that’s what you’re supposed to do because girls can get really particular about their rings—but I saw that one and I knew I had to get it. It just felt right.”
Your mouth goes dry as you look back at the box you’re holding. “You bought me a ring?”
“I would’ve bought you a hundred if that’s what you wanted.”
You gape at him. “You bought me a ring.”
He looks at you, eyes all soft and gentle. “That’s what you’re supposed to do before you get married, right?”
“Satoru, why…” You can’t seem to find the right words. Your mind has drawn a complete blank.
“I know you don’t believe me, and you have every right to feel that way, but I really did love you,” he says. “I still do if I’m being honest.”
You don’t know what to think right now. You don’t know what to do. All you know is that there’s a ring in your hand and an ache in your chest and the boy who you’d always believed to be the love of your life sitting right beside you.
“You were it for me,” he tells you. “I won’t lie, I’ve loved people in the past, but not as much as I love you. What we had was real to me, it always will be.”
You stare at the box. The diamond glints in the light. “Oh.”
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togrowoldinv · 10 months
Text
Home Again
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
When Natasha gets home from a mission she needs reassurance that she can relax and trust herself around you again
Note: Some soft Nat for y’all. Enjoy!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
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It’s late in the night when you feel the bed dip next to you. She’s been gone on a mission for almost two months. Now she’s finally home.
“Natasha?” You ask, your voice no louder than a whisper.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she replies. You can hear the exhaustion in her voice. “Go back to sleep. It’s late.”
You roll over and go back to sleep. The next morning when you wake Nat is already up and going. You’re not sure she really ever slept.
After getting dressed, you walk to the kitchen to find her standing at the counter with a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” you greet her. You go to kiss her cheek and she turns her head at the same time so you accidentally kiss her lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nat says a little shyly.
“That’s alright,” you say with a smile on your face. You kiss her lips properly this time. It’s quick as not to cross any boundaries. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, y/n,” Nat admits.
“How was the mission?” You ask as you pour your own cup of coffee.
Natasha hesitates before answering. You know she doesn’t want to relive it.
“It was okay,” she says. Nat shrugs and sets her coffee on the island. “I think I’m going to go for a run.”
“If you’re sure you’re okay,” you reply.
“Physically, yes I’m okay,” Nat answers. That’s what you needed to know. “I’ll be back, okay?”
“Okay, babe. Be safe,” you tell her.
“I always am.”
And with that Natasha is out the door. You’ll give her the space she needs. Sometimes she’s like this after a mission. Things aren’t awkward necessarily but she acts different around you.
You go about your morning activities while Natasha is out running. She runs and runs until she can hardly breathe. The thoughts aren’t as loud when she’s running.
Natasha runs so far that she makes it to town. She sees a familiar bakery and makes a stop inside to get you a treat.
“There she is!” The owner says as Natasha walks through the door. You two frequent the place often. He knows you well. “We’ve missed you!”
“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Nat replies. “Can I get two of y/n’s usual?”
“Of course,” the man replies. He bags it up and hands it to Nat. She reaches for her wallet but he holds up his hand to stop her. “It’s on us. Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff.”
She thanks him and leaves the bakery. On her way back, she tries to work through some more difficult memories of the mission. Her motivation is to get back home to you.
It always is.
Natasha opens the door to your home again and finds you in your office. She knocks softly on the door. You jump out of your chair.
“I’m sorry!” She rushes out.
“It’s okay,” you assure her. “Just not used to you being back.”
Nat nods in understanding. She holds out the bag from the bakery. This time you jump out of your chair voluntarily.
“Is that what I think it is?” You ask her.
“It’s double what you think it is,” Nat replies. She hands you the bag.
“Come share it with me,” you say, gesturing to your desk.
Nat sits on the edge of the desk across from where you sit in your chair. The sweets are too much for her taste really, but she indulges and eats half of one.
“What did you do while I was gone?” Natasha asks, trying to get a conversation going.
“Well, let’s see. I worked, worked some more, watched tv, and spent some time with friends and family,” you tell her.
“That sounds nice,” Nat says.
“It was okay. I missed you more than anything,” you say.
“This time was hard for me too.”
“I know,” you say. “Do you want to-“
You stop talking and simply gesture for her to sit on your lap. It’s something she used to do without your insistence, but her boundaries are different after every mission.
Natasha nods and slowly straddles your legs with hers. Her body falls against yours. You allow her to make the next move.
You breathe a sigh of relief when Natasha wraps her arms around your waist and buries herself into you. Hugging her back, you hold her as close as you can.
"I’m here, baby,” you say softly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
You feel tears on your neck as Natasha cries. You’ve only seen this happen a few times. As hard as it is to see it, the level of trust she has for you makes your heart swell. Not many people have seen this woman cry.
Natasha doesn’t move an inch for over an hour. You hold her for as long as she needs. When she pulls away, she looks into your eyes to see nothing but kindness.
“I’m sorry about this,” Natasha says.
“Hey, no don’t,” you say. “I’m here for you. Always.”
She feels her hands twitch as if she has to touch you, but she doesn’t know if she should. Those hands have caused pain and suffering. You see her internal dilemma.
“You can’t hurt me, Natasha,” you tell her. Her eyes widen a bit. How did you know what she was thinking?
“But I could,” she argues.
“But you won’t,” you reply.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re you, baby. You’ve always been so gentle with me. These hands,” you begin, taking her hands in yours. “Have only served as a way to make me feel good. To make me happy. To make me fall in love with you even more. I trust you. You know I do.”
“I’ve just caused so much pain and suffering,” Natasha says.
“But oh so much more safety and calm,” you remind her. “I’m not afraid of you. I never have been.”
Natasha moves her hands to each side of your face. When you don’t flinch, she sees the truth of your words. She leans forward tentatively. You wait for her to kiss you.
When she does, it’s the most gentle kiss you’ve ever shared. A ghostly touch on your lips that lingers once she’s pulled away.
“I love you,” Natasha says. “I know I have a hard time saying it, but it’s how I always feel.”
“I love you too, Natasha. And you show me how you love me all of the time. You don’t need to say it for me to know it. I promise,” you tell her.
Natasha smiles softly and presses her head to your shoulder. You kiss her temple and rub her back softly.
“I should probably go so you can work,” Natasha mumbles.
“Stay with me?” You ask her.
“Okay,” Natasha replies.
She stays in your arms and even falls asleep after a while. You spend the entire day reassuring Natasha that everything is okay.
You’re so glad she’s home. And she knows she’s going to be okay as long as she’s with you.
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iluvmorales · 1 year
Text
Earth 42, Miles Morales
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summary you’re practically part of the family.
a/n none
word count ??
You placed a lid over the pot of arroz, allowing it to steam while Rio, mrs.morales, played her reggaetón. “Mija, you can leave it now it’ll be a couple minutes before it’s done for sure.” She called out, waving you towards her.
You nodded and smiled, making your way over to her. “Miles and Aaron should be back before it’s ready, thank you for helping me mija.” She smiled sweetly. Mrs. Morales was always so sweet to you, she believed you were a great influence on her son and an even better future daughter in law.
“Ah I’m not in a rush anyways, I love cooking with mi suegra” you took a seat next to her. She beamed at the name, she couldn’t wait til you and miles married, even thought that would be years from now since you both are still teens.
Just as she was about to get up to finish laundry, the front door open and a sweet familiar voice called out. “Mamí we’re home!” Miles.
Rio walked over to greet her son with a warm hug and a side hug to uncle Aaron. Miles walked over to you with open arms as Aaron and Rio walked to a back room. “Hola mi hermosa” he rolled his r’s and his voice was deeper, but you got up to give him a big hug anyways. “How was it today?” You asked, a smile across your lips.
You knew who miles was, even after a big fight when you found out, you both came to an agreement. The terms being he made it home safe every night, No killing innocent people, and he’d text, call or tell you in person about every job he worked.
“It was smooth actually, no fighting, no ambushes just an honest transaction.” He huffed, his hands slowly sliding off your waist before falling back into the chair.
You just hummed as you went to check on the rice once more, peeking into the room and seeing Aaron slide Rio some cash, to which she reluctantly accepted after he told her to take care of his nephew.
You went back to minding your own business, watching miles walk to his room to change. After a good 10 mins, the rice was finally done “Food is ready!” You called out. Rio and Aaron walked to the kitchen. “Smells good as hell” Aaron laughed, causing rio to laugh along. “All cause’ of Y/N! I think she’d make a perfect nuera para mi” she winked at you, and you smiled.
“You all can sit down I already started serving plates.” You hummed. It was Arroz con gandules y bife, nothing too special. You set their plates down before looking around, noticing miles was still not back.
You turned to Aaron with a puzzled face ; “did he eat at all today?” The man shook his head before gesturing for you to go after him. You huffed before marching towards his room. “Get on his ah mija!” Rio jokingly called out causing a laughter.
You knocked lightly before opening the door. It was dark, and all you could see was clothes all over the place and his silhouette laying on the bed. “What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to come in anyways?” miles joked, his voice strained.
“Miles are you alright?” You walked up to his bed, sitting next to his lap. “Yeah I’m just tired, really sleep for some reason.” He yawned mid way through his sentence, his shirtless chest rising and falling.
You placed a hand on his leg, patting it; “Can you eat something before you pass out then? Uncle Aaron said you haven’t eaten, and I cooked for you.” Your voice laced with concern and a hint of pleading.
It wasn’t all too uncommon for miles to forget to eat, his job took up a lot of his time. “Yeah, yeah.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes before placing a hand around your waist. He pulled you with one hand and another lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips.
“I knew the food smelt too good for it to be my moms cooking.” He joked, causing giggles to erupt from the both of you.
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Text
Cuddle Day
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You’re sick, and you only want one thing—some tlc from your two big brothers
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Sam stiffened in surprise when you dropped down next to him on the couch and leaned heavily against his arm.
“Do you want something?” He asked.
“Nope, I’m good,” you yawned, and Sam didn’t miss your scratchy voice and pale face.
“Are you sick?”
“I don’t know,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you got comfortable against Sam’s shoulder. “My head hurts and my stomach feels weird.”
“Ok, yeah,” Sam said, and you whined when he stood, dislodging you from your position. “I don’t want to get sick, so how about we try personal space.”
“I don’t want personal space,” you huffed.
Dean chuckled from his spot on the overstuffed armchair. “Come sit with me, baby.”
“Ok!” You hopped up, coming over to Dean’s chair before climbing into his lap. Dean grunted as you made yourself comfortable, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“Look, just don’t cough on me and we’ll be good, ok?”
“Deal,” you closed your eyes, smiling contentedly when Dean wrapped an arm around you.
“Hey, I think I might have a job,” you hadn’t realized that you dozed off until Sam’s voice woke you up.
“Alright,” Dean said.
“Hey!” You protested as Dean started to move under you. “You can’t leave me when I’m sick, it’s mean.”
Dean thought you were kidding until you grabbed onto his shirt and wouldn’t let go.
“Kid, I need to-“
“Eh, actually it’s ok,” Sam insisted. “The job looks pretty straightforward. She’s looking pretty sick, you take care of her, I got the case.” Dean was about to protest, but Sam just turned and walked away.
“How you feeling?” Dean asked after Sam was gone.
“My stomach hurts,” you sighed. “Thanks for staying.”
“You kidding? Hey, down time is ok by me.”
You spent the afternoon fading in an out of sleep on Dean while he watched various television shows on his laptop. You couldn’t help but smile sleepily every time he laughed at his show, and his chest rumbled under you. With how crappy you were feeling, spending the afternoon curled up with your big brother was about the best place to be.
“Baby,” you stirred when Dean shook your arm. “Honey it’s getting late, I think you should try to eat something before bed.”
“Don’t go,” you pleaded, holding onto his arm.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean chuckled. “Sammy can get you some food, alright?”
After you finished as much of Sam’s soup as your unsettled stomach could manage, you held out your arms to your big brother.
“Sammy, can you carry me to bed?”
“What part of me not wanting to get sick did you-“ Sam froze when he turned to look at you. When did you get so good at the puppy eyes? “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Sam groaned as he walked over to where you were still sitting with Dean. He reached down and pulled you into his arms, and you smiled and leaned against him.
“Thanks Sammy.”
Dean smiled as Sam turned and carried you out of the room.
“Where are we going?” You asked as Sam turned down the wrong hallway.
“My room,” Sam said. “You wanna sleep in there?”
“Really?” You grinned. You hadn’t really wanted to ask, but Sam seemed to have read your mind.
“Your germs are all over me anyway, I figured it can’t get worse,” Sam grunted as he slipped into his room and set you down on his bed. You scooted over immediately, making room for him.
When he finally got comfortable under his blankets, he laid one arm out in an open invitation, and you responded by coming in closer to lay against his shoulder.
“Thank you, Sammy,” you whispered sleepily, smiling when Sam pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Feel better, kiddo.”
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aheathen-conceivably · 2 months
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Quiet reigned over the Duplanchier dinner table. Whatever illusion of peace that had been there before had been shattered by the roar of a 1932 Ford Roadster. It had arrived only minutes before, cutting through the stillness of the desert before it purred to a halt in front of of the farmhouse. Now it sat outside, gleaming in the final sunbeams of the day while its presence was felt even beyond the thin wooden walls that shielded it from view.
The ghost of its engine filled the quiet air of the kitchen, fighting for dominance alongside the clattering of forks and nervously unspoken words. It was ringing in Violette’s ears, feeding into the seething feeling she could feel rising from the depths of her stomach. She knew that she wasn’t the only one, but she was only just beginning to learn how her parent’s responded to their own emotions. With quiet. They didn’t yell when they were uncomfortable the way she wanted to, or even try to talk about the issue in front of them. They just wanted to sit in quiet: sad, melancholy, infuriating quiet.
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So when the ringing of the engine finally began to deafen her ears and she couldn’t deny the shaking feeling of anger in her stomach anymore, she didn’t even make a sound. She simply threw her chair back, allowing the screech on the wooden floorboards to punctuate the quiet air the way she wanted to with a yell, before she stomped out of the room.
Why should she give them an explanation? No one had asked her what she wanted her father to do; they had all simply been quiet. For weeks and for months, until suddenly, Poppa has to go on the road, Princess. That was it. Her life as she knew it was over. The promises her Aunt Jo had made now void. He was leaving, the way he said he never would, the way she feared when she came out to this strange place with these strange people and this strange feeling that just made her want to yell and scream but she couldn’t because it was always just so quiet.
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Whatever she had hoped to find in her room wasn’t there. She wound up the music box on the side of her bed, hoping that it would cut through the silence. But even alongside its thin song she could hear it: the void of noise in the desert, one through which she could hear the music coming from below the floorboards in New Orleans. Music her father played, music her father would be playing when he left them tomorrow.
Only she would be left here in the silence of her room, the infuriating quiet of her mother’s little world in a place that just made her want to go home, even though they all told her this was where home was supposed to be.
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A few minutes later he found her on the ground next to her bed, crying hot, angry tears that she hadn’t quite yet learned how to hide. The small music box had just finished its song, and as his daughter’s eyes met his the ballerina over her shoulder stopped twirling just in time to face him. It seemed to stare at him just the way it did when it was his mother and his sister sitting on either side of it, entranced by the very same melody that it still played here, decades later and thousands of miles away.
He fought through the clouds of his memories to walk nearer to her, but she didn’t turn or even acknowledge his presence as he sat down; instead, she let the quiet answer the pain she could feel radiating from his words like sunbeams on the sand. “Look at me, Princess. Don’t cry alright? You’re strong. Very strong, and I’ll be home before you know it.”
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Still she stayed resolute, and something desperate almost broke in Antoine. The part of him that wanted to cry too, to curl up in a small ball and refuse to go no matter what his sister threatened or how dire their situation was. He had pulled nearly all the strength he could in these last few days, packing his life into the neat squares of a suitcase as he put off saying goodbye to Zelda and Violette for as long as he possibly could.
Only he couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer, not when it sat beside him angry and confused, much the same way a deep part of him still felt too. He pulled her close to him as her posture softened just enough to lean onto him for support. “Ma petite chérie, it won’t be long, please. I’ll bring you home something from the road, okay? A dress, a gift, a souvenir. Whatever you want.”
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His words worked in eliciting a reaction, only not the one he had hoped. She shrugged her shoulders violently to throw his hands off of her and dried her face with balled fists. When she spoke it was directed at the shining figure of the ballerina in the box rather than him. “I’m not a child anymore, Poppa.”
The anger she sloughed from her shoulders tried to move onto him like a sickness, because he didn’t want to leave anymore than she wanted him to. But he loved her too much to let it win, even if it made his voice hoarse and his eyes burn. “Then you want the truth, Violette? Sometimes people have to leave. They have to leave to find what they want or to help other people. As you get older you might be one of those people, or it may be your friends or even your family. Sometimes they don’t even come home. But I can promise you that I’m always going to come home. You and your mother will be here and that will always make me come back, no matter what happens or where in the world I am.”
Finally she turned, a rehearsed sparkle in her eyes which should have told him that she thought her entreaties would work and had been saving them for the right moment. “Then can I come with you? Can I come on the road? I’ll be good, I promise. I don’t want to be here without you or Aunt Jo…”
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“Violette, you have school. Your mother. The farmhouse…” his voice was growing thinner, more exasperated by the fact that she didn’t understand what he had to do or that it hurt so goddamn much to do it. She didn’t know that he would look in on her sleeping before he stepped out the door in only a few hours, reminding himself of why he was doing it at all in the most painful way possible. “What more do you want? I have to leave, okay? I have to leave for you and our family. You just…you don’t understand.”
She turned back to face the music box, too angry to even reach out and wind it up again. He was wrong. She did understand. Not that he was leaving them out of love and devotion, or that the world required sacrifice especially in the face of those things. But what she understood was no less true, even if it was tinted by the sounds of his music playing from the depths of her own memory. She understood that there was no real opportunity for him there, and in turn perceived that there was no real opportunity for her either. Sometimes people have to leave, Violette. If that was the truth to understand from his words that night, then she more than understood it.
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