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number-onekidqueen · 3 months

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The Seven Times Luke Castellan Said 'I Love You'

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Pure angst.

3.7k words

Warnings: death, injury, insecurities, bad parenting, spoilers for Percy Jackson book series.

One.

Luke must’ve been four the first time he ever said those three words.

He’d been at preschool, and it was the second week. He’d missed mommy. He felt different to all the other kids, and there were all these really scary faces that kept popping out of bushes that no one else could see. His mommy had picked him up early when the preschool called, and taken him home to a surprise. She’d baked his favourite: choc chip cookies, and he was even allowed to drink Kool-Aid too!

“I love you, mommy!!” He’d mumbled, while he stuffed his little mouth with the baked goods, in a sugary daze.

It made him feel so much better, knowing at least he had mommy to always come home to and rely on.

If only that had been true.

Two.

He was 9 when he said that sentence for the second time.

Mom wasn’t there for him anymore.

He was scared to go to school and leave her alone, because every time he got home, she would be insane. It’s like she wasn’t there with him anymore.

She would scream so loud and her eyes would be bright green, and she’d shake him and cry, wailing about how he was going to die. Usually it would make him so disturbed he’d run into his bedroom and lock the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow.

She always did.

It was when she started to pound on his door, begging him to come out, that he’d begin to sob, shaking in fright.

He’d pray and pray to his dad in desperate tears, asking and asking him to bless his mom, to free her from this curse and to make her better again. It didn’t ever stop.

She’d still make cookies, sometimes, but she’d forget about them and leave them in for so long they’d always be burnt to cinders. She’d serve Kool-Aid too, but he’d grown out of it.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His mom wasn’t getting better, but worse. Her fits were getting more frequent, and Luke’s dad wasn’t doing anything to help him.

Luke couldn’t stay here a second longer.

“I love you, mum,” he whispered to her curled figure on the couch, a full backpack on his shoulder and all his childhood allowance in his pockets as he softly closed the door.

He knew they’d be better off without each other.

Three.

Luke was fourteen when he said that phrase for the third time.

He’d finally found his family.

Sure, it hurt to think of his mother, all alone in his old house, but he had two amazing, brave and funny sisters to make up for that.

Until he didn’t.

It was all such a blur.

One second, they’d just been meeting some satyr by the name of Grover, who claimed to be their protector, a safeguard back to a camp for kids like them.

They’d been on the journey, he, Thalia, Annabeth, wondering what it would be like when they got there, what would happen.

And then the cyclops had struck.

It had all gone too quickly from there. They’d been running madly, tripping through the forest scrub, their hearts pumping, their adrenaline pulsing, Grover yelling that the entrance to camp wasn’t far, that they’d be safe there and to keep going.

The cyclops was still gaining on them, and Luke was starting to feel an awful sense of dread.

Then Thalia - brave, amazing, stupid Thalia - had volunteered to fight the monster. She’d told them to run ahead, that she had the sucker and would be right behind them.

And Luke was scared and thinking of Annabeth and safety, and he agreed, he kept running.

He left her.

His sister.

He swore he blinked once, and then she was dying, crumpled on the dirt, bleeding out and groaning in pain, camp only an ironic few metres away.

None of them even had time to reach out a hand to help her before she turned golden, vanished into a great big pine tree.

Gone forever before he could say goodbye.

“I love you, Thalia,” he whispered that night, not caring that he was breaking curfew rules, getting too close to the dangerous outskirts of camp.

Not caring he was using present tense. He refused to say ‘loved.’

Because he would love Thalia forever.

Four

Luke was sixteen the fourth time he uttered those words.

After all his life he was finally at home.

He’d grown accustomed and comfortable with camp, accepting it as his home. Even though sometimes it was weird to be at a summer camp all year round, he found happiness in his new place, trying to forget about the bad things. Thalia. His mother.

He’d found peace in routine, and confidence. Chiron said he was becoming what would be the best swordsman Camp Half-Blood had seen in 300 years.

There were his friends and siblings. He had Chris and the Stolls, and all the other Hermes kids that made his cabin rowdy and feel homelike.

Then there was y/n, probably his best friend, an Apollo girl who’d healed him immediately after he got to camp and had been there for him since.

There were heaps of activities to keep him busy. Training. Capture the flag. Parties, when he was old enough.

It had been the second of one of the post-curfew parties Luke had been to, and he admitted he had drank too much. Far too much.

Things had got out of hand when an Ares boy had insulted you, someone who was lovely to everyone. He couldn’t really even remember what the boy had said, only that it enraged him and he’d only seen red after that.

It all sort of went downhill from there. He’d thrown a punch, received one, and the rest was a sweaty and jagged dance of thrown limbs.

And now he was here, replaying the events in his mind, sat on the bathroom floor of the Apollo cabin, you kneeling over him with a warm cloth. His fists clenched at the thought of that stupid boy again.

“Luke,” you whispered, and the thoughts disappeared. “Look at me so I can fix you up.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. It gave him an excuse to openly stare at you. In this dim light, you were gorgeous. Your skin seemed to glow golden from within, which mirrored the bright warmth of your eyes, and the radiance of your hair that framed your face. It was bittersweet, making him happy yet sick with longing, especially in his drunken state, to think of how you weren’t his. I want you, he wanted to whisper. He nearly did.

“Thank you. You’re so good.” He said instead.

“I don’t know about that, but always. That’s what best friends are for,” you reassured, smiling.

His heart sank. He didn’t want you like a best friend. He wanted you to want him like he wanted you.

“Yeah,” he said offhandedly.

There was a long pause. Your touch was soft on the cuts all over him, and although it stung, it was worth it. It was finished all too soon except-

“I’m still hurt,” he tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t form, “like, my chest.”

“He got you there too? Through your shirt?”

“Yeah. Little sucker had a pocketknife and everything.”

“Ok,” you replied. The room stayed silent. Suddenly, he was confused.

“Um-“

“Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, um-“

Your hands reached for him almost… shyly. Could it be possible that you were overthinking seeing him like this, flustered, also thinking about him like he was about you? It drew a grin to his face. He decided to play with you.

“You don’t have to treat me that delicately. I promise it doesn’t hurt that much.”

You gave a nervous laugh, your hands moving slightly faster as he lifted his arms.

And then it was time to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were certainly not on him, but his chest, and it almost seemed your cheeks had transitioned from golden to rosy. His grin turned into a smirk.

“I gather that stare is either in reaction to my amazing abs or really bad cut. Either way, take it all in,” he teased. It occurred to him later he would never have said anything remotely like this if he was sober.

“Haha, Castellan,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and continuing your job. But you were smiling.

Your features were even softer closer up. It took his breath away, and he couldn’t help the words that next escaped from the confines of his heart.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You froze, midway through finishing dabbing a cut. Your eyes looked up at his, his earnest, vulnerable irises. And then you looked down at his lips. And dropping the cloth, you took his face into your hands and kissed him. It was the most exhilarating, fantastic five seconds of his life. And then you pulled away, stepping back.

“There you go. That’s probably all you wanted, since you’re drunk. You’re-you’re healed now.” You stuttered out.

And he wanted to chase you, have another kiss, try to create a proper response to that, to why he loved you, but you’d ran away from him, and he didn’t want to be snooping through someone else’s cabin, even in his state.

He was left reeling in the moonlight, stumbling back to his cabin before the harpies found him. Once he was between the sheets, his mind muddled, he found it easy to fall asleep, the image and feel of you still in his mind.

He woke up the next day, baffled that his mind could come up with a dream so lifelike. Even mad that maybe a Hypnos kid has taken note of his crush and decided to create a dream like that as a prank. What assholes.

Because you would never kiss someone like him, he knew that.

Like ever.

Five

Luke was seventeen the fifth time he said that statement.

He hadn’t known things could get so much worse.

His father, finally acknowledging him after his claiming, had sent him on a quest. Sure, it was a reused quest from Heracles, but Luke knew just how glorified and contested quests were, and so he accepted happily, choosing two of the older and more experienced campers to assist him in retrieving the golden apples from the dragon.

You were a bit offended that he hadn’t chose you, and he had no explanation that he could offer you, save for a confession. It made for a parting laced with bitterness.

The quest started off fine, and they got to their destination smoothly, but it quickly went downhill from there.

Once they were in the garden, almost immediately the dragon was alerted of their presence. It began to attack, using quick, violent manoeuvres that were hard to keep up with for even the most experienced.

Too hard for one of his quest mates, who became food for the monster’s jaws. It was a sickening, gruesome sight that Luke could never wipe from his mind.

The other quest mate became injured soon after that, and then it was Luke on his own.

At that point, even he knew the quest was lost. He was just defending himself and trying to get out alive. And so he did, with a painful scar from eye to chin as a marking of his forever defeat against the dragon.

He returned as a failure.

He was wounded, with a permanent and ugly physical memory, one of his quest mates was dead, the other also mortally wounded, and their fingers hadn’t even grazed the golden flesh of the apples. He couldn’t even finish an already done quest.

Worse was the pity.

The moment he stepped past Thalia’s tree and into camp, all he received was pity. Quiet voices, soft glances, stopped conversations, permits, excuses.

It was as if he were the dragon, and they were afraid that if they did not tread lightly he may begin roaring flames at them.

He never did.

Just like y/n never treated him with pity.

Your eyes were objective, calculating as they surveyed his wounds. Of course your words were soft, but they always were, with your perfect bedside manner. In those moments where you treated him normally, he couldn’t appreciate you more.

Worst of all probably were the nightmares. He had one awful recurring one: he’d be back in that hellish garden, the dying screams of his dead quest mate and the roaring of the dragon in his ears, the adrenaline and chase all through him, and then every camper he’d ever known would appear, surround him and shake their heads, looking at him in pity and knowing he was a failure. They would chant it, and pelt burning rocks at him, and he would run, run, run, but he could never escape it.

He couldn’t bear it one hot late July night, and slipped away under the stars. He was always calmer there, where he could put himself and his feelings into perspective.

And that’s where y/n had found him, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with his knees loosely curled to his chest.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, just sat there beside him, breathing, stargazing too.

“I’ve seen you come out here, every night this week.” You stated, finally looking over at him. “Are the nightmares that bad?”

He nodded, gulping down the fear and tears that submerged at the thought.

“You should’ve come to me, you know we have dreamless tonic at the infirmary-“

“Yeah I know. But I deserve it, don’t I?” He asked bitterly, turning to you, “I failed and so I get to live with the consequences. The nightmares.”

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to face consequences-“

“But I do already, don’t I? I feel like I’m not even the same at all, like I’ll never be the same again. I’ve got this stupid, disgusting scar,” he spat, jabbing at his face, “as this reminder and I’ve got to live knowing I wasn’t ever good enough to succeed and my failure led to someone’s death.”

There was silence for a while, where you gazed at him, at his eyes.

“Stop blaming yourself,” you said softly, “I won’t let you.”

“I can’t help it though,” he whispered, voice cracking, “after training for so long and everyone telling me I’m the best swordsman, I couldn’t save someone, could barely defend myself. And now they’re dead, because of me. And every time I try and forget it- I look in the mirror and see this-this scar and-“

You scooted closer, and one of your hands laid over his.

“Your scar isn’t a symbol of failure. It should never be. It means you’re brave, that you survived that dragon-“ you reached for his face, and so, so gently began to run your index finger down his scar, “-that you’ve overcome all that horror and emerged stronger.”

You cupped his cheek after you finished tracing. His heart was racing.

“And you’re still the same to me. You’re still smart, funny, brave, handsome, strong. You’re still you. Don’t let anyone take that away.”

Your hand slowly drew away from his face, but he caught it, keeping you there.

And he stared.

Stared at this beautiful, golden girl who was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could only think of three words.

“I love you,” he whispered to you, and he slowly leaned in.

You kissed, his hands in your silky hair and yours on his strong back, and this was the most effective healing Luke had ever had.

He knew at this moment that the best he would ever be was with you.

And that would be always, he hoped.

Six.

Luke was nineteen the next time he spoke from his heart.

Things were finally getting better, but they had a long way to go. Luke would be there to see the good change come through.

Camp was normal. Demigods died, demigods lived. They got claimed, their parents ignored them for months or years. They would train for quests, row, sing at camp fires. He would teach sword classes, rowing, and in his spare time he and y/n would go to their secret spot at the lake and…. Spend some time together in private.

Flustered and a little ruffled they would return to have dinner, stargaze, play wild games of Capture the Flag.

Luke was happy enough. But he didn’t know how long this would last, this calm joy.

He couldn’t live like this, waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop with no help from his dad and the other gods.

He’d made his decisions, laid his plans, and now he waited. Waited.

Tangled in your arms, he traced shapes on your hands as you played with his hair. It was a warm environment, like the home he never had.

The nightmares never really left Luke. Well, unless you were with him.

It was many a night, after curfew, when snores were in the air that he would sneak into your cabin and join you (There were too many people in Hermes cabin for the alternative to ever happen).

And there in your bed he would stay. Sometimes you would talk. Sometimes you would make out. And sometimes you would have quiet times like this, all of each other intertwined as you were lost in comforting thoughts.

Well, you were.

Luke was lost in guilt and impossible choices. He never wanted to leave you, be apart from you. He didn’t know how he’d live without seeing you, hearing your voice. And he hated to leave you like this. But he knew you would never join him. Apollo hadn’t been great, but he hadn’t been terrible and he knew his plans would scare you. He wanted the best for half bloods. This was the only way he could think of. When he came back, surely you would understand.

“You’re so quiet,” you mumbled, from your place under his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what I was thinking about?” And he made up some deep philosophical thought that the two of you quietly discussed and argued about for the next little while, the conversation drifting to other topics before you got drowsy.

“Good night,” you murmured, lifting your face to kiss his nose, scar and lips softly. You returned your head to its place, your warm lips in a smile against his neck, “see you in the morning.”

His stomach plunged, and he felt sick with guilt. He reached over for you, drawing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You, still half asleep, confusedly frowned, but settled back into him with a grin on your face. It was a goodbye, but you didn’t know that.

“I love you,” he breathed, while you fell asleep, and he swore he saw your lips turn upwards. You succumbed to sleep quickly, and it made it simple to softly slip away, escape from you.

As he passed Thalia’s tree, he turned back to look at the cabins, your cabin.

He’d run away once from a home, and it had hurt him. But it had been worth it in the end, and he didn’t regret it.

It hurt running away from this home. Was it worth leaving if it tore his heart into two? He supposed only time would tell. Fitting, giving who his new master was.

——————

And that was the last time Luke ever said I love you.

Well, there was once more.

——————————

Seven.

He didn’t know how old he was when he said that small sentence for the final time.

All he knew was he obeyed Kronos and that the gods had to be slain.

The city at least was familiar. A deep, small part of him felt almost… scared and upset that this city was being damaged.

Oh, and the people. There was a boy he hated, who was powerful and threatening. And a girl with him, who he should hate but he seemed to, well, not.

It had all unfolded so suddenly, the defeat, and suddenly he remembered bits and pieces.

He’d betrayed camp half blood, the only home that he had known, but only so the gods would pay attention to them, be better parents. But what he was doing now wasn’t what he had wanted. Not at all.

He supposed it was an easy decision to make when the boy - ….. Percy - told him to stab himself in the armpit.

He did and finally, in the deadly silence, he was himself again. He was Luke Castellan. A demigod, a child of Hermes. A lot of other things.

For a moment all he could see was the blonde girl whose name he couldn’t remember, that stared at him as he began to writhe in pain. The same blonde girl he couldn’t seem to hate, who he seemed to be soft for.

A lot of other faces stared too, who seemed to be familiar to him but he couldn’t place.

And then there was screaming. Loud, pained screams and running footsteps and a panic rose inside of him. He knew that scream, although he’d rarely heard it.

And there was you, y/n. A face and voice he instantly knew, that he would remember half-dead, which ironically reflected the place he was in now.

You were as beautiful as he remembered, even now, your face contorted, grimy, tears streaming, your hair a sweaty mess.

“No, I can heal him, I can heal him.” You sobbed, kneeling beside him and trying to staunch the bleeding which he could oddly not feel.

He hated seeing you like this. So sad, hurt, in pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do to improve it made it even worse.

He reached for your hand, squeezing it and attempting a weak smile. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you, because you never deserved it. And-“ he coughed, dust in his lungs.

“I love you.” He said, loud and clear for the world to hear. He wanted to say more, but his chest was weak.

It was only them for that moment. You dove in and kissed him, just as passionately as he had that final night. It took his breath away, and he found himself grinning, joyous, at peace.

It was a goodbye, but he didn’t know that.

#luke castellan #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #pjo show luke #luke castellan x you #pjo spoilers #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo series luke #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan imagine #you're welcome #I hurt myself writing this #i may release some more oneshots who knows #requests open

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a-little-unsteddie · 2 months

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under the weather || steddie

this is for @rogueddie’s bday! i’m sorry it’s late but i fell ill and am only just starting to feel better. i thought a sickfic was fitting for the situation :b. hope you like it, eddie! and i hope your bday was good <3

sickfic, pre-relationship, technically post-s4

No one had seen or heard from Steve in three days.

Eddie knew he didn’t really have any right to be as worried as he was, seeing as even after spring break the two of them hadn’t gotten close. Eddie hadn't wanted to push his luck, knowing exactly how he acted during the apocalypse. There was no way that Steve didn't know that Eddie was gay, and despite Robin’s vague assurances, Eddie didn't want to press his luck much farther. But he was. Worried, that is.

Despite not being that close, Eddie still knew that Steve would never intentionally miss picking up the kids from Hellfire—now hosted at the new Munson house, government provided. He was even less likely to miss picking up Robin from work, which was what really caused Eddie to worry.

Robin had called Eddie and asked him to check on Steve, because in spite of their adamant denial, her mother still thought she and Steve were dating, and refused to let her go over to his house alone.

“Just…check on him, please,” Robin had asked him quietly, her voice tinny on the receiver.

“Of course, birdie,” Eddie replied, frowning at the counter. “I’m not sure if he’ll want to see me, though. Wouldn’t it be better to send Nancy or Jonathan?”

“No,” came Robin’s hasty reply, “no, he’d rather see you than either of them.”

That had confused him enough into agreeing and hanging up to get ready to go to the Harrington’s to check on Steve. He didn’t know what to expect, so he just grabbed a can of soup and shoved it into his bag, along with some weed, and just in case, he grabbed his pocket knife.

Unable to think of any more scenarios right at that moment, Eddie left before he could overthink it.

Fifteen minutes and a few ignored stop signs later, Eddie stood at the front door to Steve’s house. He knocked first, and then a few minutes later, rang the doorbell. When there was still no response, Eddie grabbed his knife and checked to see if the door would open. Fortunately,—or unfortunately, it did.

Eddie crept around, listening for any signs of danger and life in general, as he peered into the kitchen from the living room. He passed the stairs and heard coughing coming from somewhere upstairs and frowned. He put the knife away, and made his way slowly up the stairs.

“Harrington?” Eddie called, poking his head into the door that led to his room. The sight that greeted him was heartbreaking, Steve was under a bunch of blankets, the only part of him that was visible was his hair, which looked uncharacteristically greasy.

“Steve?” he called again when it didn’t look like Steve was moving.

Just as he was about to panic, he heard Steve groan in response, what could have been “Munson”, but sounded closer to “m’ns’n”. Steve pulled the blanket down and squinted in Eddie’s direction and whined when his eyes were greeted with light.

“Oh, Steve,” he breathed, glad that he was just sick and not in mortal danger. Eddie rushed over to him and felt his forehead, which was burning up.

“M’fine,” Steve croaked, trying to weakly push away Eddie’s hand. “Was jus’ gon’ get up,” he breathed, trying to sit up.

“Oh, no you don’t, big boy,” Eddie said firmly, pushing him back into bed. “You’re sick, sweetheart. Stay in bed.”

“M’not sick,” he protested, and then immediately started coughing. Once the coughing fit was done, Steve mumbled, “Maybe m’sick.”

“You think so, sweetheart?” Eddie teased gently as he helped Steve lay back down.

“W’d,” Steve started, but a coughing fit took over the sentence before he could even try to complete it. Eddie’s heart went out to him, aching as he watched Steve shiver once the fit was done. “Wh’d’r’you do’n’ere?”

Steve’s words were so slurred that Eddie had to make an educated guess as to what he meant, “Robin was worried about you,” he explained, “wanted me to check on you.”

“‘bin?” Steve breathed, eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.

“Yeah, Robin. She’s really worried. Rest now, I’ll get some things to help you feel better, okay?” Eddie murmured and didn’t wait for Steve to respond before he made his way out of the room.

The next two days were spent with Eddie nursing Steve back to health. Steve slept through most of the first day and a half, but seemed to be getting more lucid on the third day. Instead of being completely disoriented from reality, he seemed to be embarrassed that Eddie had to help him, which he was quick to shoot down.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than take care of me,” Steve insisted, probably for the third time. “I can take care of myself from here.”

“I’m sure you can, Stevie,” Eddie said, just as patient the third time as he was the first. “But you don’t have to, I want to take care of you, I like taking care of you.”

Steve’s face turned red, and Eddie bit back a smile as he handed over the fresh bowl of soup. He wanted to say that it was the fever causing Steve’s face to be so red, but his fever had broken the day before. The only thing that Eddie could think of that he’d be blushing right now was something he didn’t even want to consider, in case he had it wrong. He’d spent so long avoiding the jock because he was scared he’d some how sense his big gay crush on him, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions off of a few days taking care of him.

It was a nice thought, though.

“Thank you,” Steve said quietly as he held the bowl in stable hands. The first day Steve had tried to hold it himself, but was shaking so much that it was impossible, so Eddie had fed him then. It’d taken every ounce of self-control to not get overwhelmed with the closeness, instead he focused on the task.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Eddie said, sitting back in the armchair that Steve had in his room.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Steve asked with a frown.

“I ate downstairs while making your food,” and it wasn’t a lie, he’d made himself a sandwich.

He didn’t look pleased at the answer, but accepted it nontheless.

“What day is it?” Steve asked after he finished his soup.

Eddie hummed, “Uhh, Thursday, I think. Yeah, Thursday.”

“I was supposed to pick up Dustin from school today,” Steve exclaimed, and immediately tried to get out of bed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie stopped him, forcing him back into his bed. “The Sinclairs took care of it. Robin also took care of your shift yesterday and Keith is working your shift today, unwillingly, but doing it.”

Steve deflated, but sidn’t lean back. “Can I at least go to the living room?” he asked with a pout. Eddie staunchly refused to acknowledge the way his heart fluttered.

Maybe he was catching whatever cold Steve had.

Eddie sighed, pretending at being exasperated. “I suppose I can let you do that,” he said, standing to help Steve up. The jock was still shaky on his legs, but much more stable than he had been.

Together they worked their way downstairs slowly, taking it one step at a time. Eventually Eddie helped Steve ease onto the couch, and then went over to the tv and VCR.

“What movie do you want?” he asked, looking back at Steve, catching him blushing and looking away. He raised his eyebrows, bewildered as to what he could have been doing that warranted that reaction.

“Uh..” Steve slowly grinned, “Grease.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, groaning. “Of course you want to watch Grease,” he sighed, grabbing the tape and putting it in. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Stevie.”

Steve blushed, and grinned widely at Eddie as the metalhead made his way back to the couch. He lifted the blanket and Eddie smiled softly, settling into the couch next to him.

“It’s a good movie,” Steve protested. He must have still been loopy from being sick, because he curled into Eddie’s side, and forced him to wrap his arm around Steve.

Eddie tried to keep his heart steady, but found himself unable to.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steve/eddie #steddie #steve x eddie #unsteddie writing #under the weather

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dwailol · 11 months

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My Favorite Pose

ComPOUND Round 3 [Bucky x Fem Reader]

Minors DNI 🔞

Summary: First morning of your week alone in the compound with Bucky. He adds himself to your morning routine. ;) Established relationship. If you’ve been following the plot PLEASE STOP but your powers and vaguely why you stayed behind are revealed.

Warnings ⚠️: smut af, bondage, a lil rough but not too much, oral (m and f), praise kink, p in v, unprotected

WC: 1.7k??

It’s 5:30 AM and there are little to no off days even for low key weeks like this. I get up and walk to get the specially designed breakfast that F.R.I.D.A.Y. planned for me. If there is one thing I miss about my past life it was a big flavorful breakfast… well and my family not being the reason the rest of the Avengers are trying to save a population of innocent people.

Surprise! I’ve got daddy issues. That’s my whole conflict of interest that kept me from the mission. I can’t do it. I told them not to tell me who did it if they are gone by the end of it. No matter how much I’ve been burned by them I’ll still hesitate.

I take my last bite and walk to the training center. I try to quiet my mind with some yoga before I get into the intense workouts. As I move into downward dog, I feel Bucky’s two hands pull my ass to his crotch. He gives it a light squeeze that still hurts because of the marks he left on it last night.

“Downward Dog - my favorite pose. What are you doing up so early Angel?”

“You know that pet name can only stretch so far,” I stand up. He throws his hands up with a cocky grin.

“Sorry, it’s just so fitting. I haven’t seen them in a while. It’s kind of hot when you pop them out. You should give me a quick show,” he says with that grin somehow getting smugger. The lack of sleep I got last night really motivated me to remind him what got me here in the first place.

“Careful what you wish for.”

In less than a second I sprout my wings then clap them hard in front of me which sends him flying across the room. I retract them back in an instant. He gets up laughing and clapping.

“Woo! That is what I’m talking about angel! I would ask to see the other stuff but we don’t want to set the building on fire do we?”

I can’t control myself when my other powers ignite - literally ignite. While he playfully annoys me, I don’t think I could ever release that hell fire. My powers are not “biblical” but they sure are other worldly.

“I need to get back to it. There’s food in the fridge. Just don’t touch my meal prep,” I hate that sentence just left my mouth.

“I don’t want your meal prep,” he walks behind me with our bodies facing the mirrors and his hands snaking up and down my body. “I want you. If you wanna get some training in I can show you somethings,” he says into my ear while tucking my hair back. So unfair.

“I don’t have-“

“You see this?”, he picks up my yoga strap. Out of nowhere he runs in front of me to kick the back of my legs. We both fall to the floor. He has me pinned down and starts tying the strap around my wrists.

“This is called a constrictor knot. In the event you have a disobedient girl giving you attitude, this knot comes in real handy,” he pushes his hand up my shirt to grab my breast. He moves it back down into my leggings and starts rubbing.

“Fuck. I could do whatever I want to do to you right now. You’re so wet. I cannot wait to get my cock inside you.”

I feel his fingers slip in and out. I let out a whimper. The sounds of my wet cunt make him growl. With a loud grunt he rips my leggings off. His fingers are back inside me and moving with fury. His eyes are hungry and he plants his head between my thighs with force.

As his tongue moves around my clit, I let out some “Ah! Ah! AH!”s. I start thrashing my body from the pleasure. He takes his vibranium arm to hold my hips down making me immobile.

“Whatever I want to do to you. Don’t make me repeat myself again. Now what do we say?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He sits up to free himself from his shorts. I am towered over with his cock in my face.

“Get to work doll. Let’s practice some breathing exercises for your training today.”

He puts his cock in my mouth and I start to move my head up and down. His length hits the back of my throat and I cough choking on it.

“Such a good girl for me trying so hard. Now you’re getting that pussy filled.”

He pulls on the strap to lift me up for a sloppy kiss with my taste still on his tongue. He drops me to the floor again to pin me under him. In no time his cock is thrusting into me with a speed so fast it shakes my body back and forth.

“I’m really making you mine this week. I’m gonna fuck you in every room I can. Get ready to drop whatever you’re doing for me whenever I want.”

I need this honestly. Losing my body to him feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would. My helplessness to his pounding excites me with both safety knowing he’s the one doing it and anticipation for what he might pull next.

He pulls the strap up so that I mesh into a seated position with him. He pumps into me with an unmatched passionate kiss. His free hand runs through my hair and gives it a pull in the back. He releases a heavy breath and moan. I’m squealing as he hits my g spot and my clit rubs against his body.

“Fuck Bucky! You’re killing me!”

“Good thing we know you’ll go to heaven then.”

He turns me onto my stomach so that I’m facing the mirrors. I arch up my ass anticipating his next move. I grip onto the strap preparing to take him. He kneels behind me and picks my head up.

“Look at you catching on. Now watch yourself get fucked.”

He slams his cock back inside me and thrusts with power. My high pitched screams are music to his ears. He grabs my ass and slaps it back and forth a few times.

“I thought I was being your good girl?”, I tease.

“Don’t act like you don’t get pleasure from my punishments. You might be my good girl right now but doesn’t mean I won’t give you a reminder of what’s in store for bad girls.”

“Not fair,” I laugh. Wrong choice.

He flips me over swiftly. He pulls tight on the strap to put the end in front of my face. His grip tenses around it.

“You remember this? I decide what’s fair and what’s not. You’re all tied up Angel. You take what you get and believe me you’re gonna get it.”

He throws my arms down then smacks the side of my ass with his vibranium hand. There is pleasure in his punishments. His movements are the hardest and fastest I’ve felt from him since our first time.

“I’m getting close to giving you my next load. I’ve loved filling you up with all my cum and watching it drip out you. Shows you’re all mine. No one else gets this pussy but me.”

My body tingles at his words. I give him an affirming mhm. He grabs my face.

“I wanna hear you say it ‘Bucky this pussy is yours’ if you want this load. Sing me that beautiful song Angel and it’s all yours.”

“Bucky…,” he hits the spot again which throws me off track.

“Bucky this…,” he cues for the rest of what he wants to hear. He lifts my hips up and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I scrunch my face then open my eyes wide as I feel my own cum.

“It’s yours! It’s yours! I promise it’s all yours!”

Mmmmh! I feel his huge burst of cum in me. He pulls out and it was definitely the biggest load of all the rounds so far. My hands are set free with some mild brush burns. He grabs my hands and gives them each light kisses.

“I’ll be more careful next time bunny. You just get me too hot,” he groans. I get a kiss loaded with tongue.

What a wonderful first morning with him back!

#avengers smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #dom bucky barnes #marvel smut #winter solider smut #winter solider x reader #endgame #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x you #bucky smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky fic

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mango-bango-bby · 11 months

Note

Hi! Is it okay if I request platonic Yandere LOV with Dabi’s sister? Like they fight over who gets to babysit her while Dabi run errands? Thank you! I love your content!

♡ Babysitter ♡

(A/N: I genuinely love platonic LOV so much!! I’ve been getting so many platonic bnha request’s lately and I love it so much!! It’s the best for comfort 💞)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, children, the league fighting over reader, reader cries

Summary: Dabi has to leave for an errand, so the league has to babysit you (Yan!platonic!brother!Dabi x GN!child!reader + Platonic!LOV x GN!child!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Dabi did his best to take care of you. He did the best he could with his lifestyle. You stayed in the leagues hideout most of the time, almost never going out. You were still pretty young and stayed away from the outside, as your brother advised you to.

He actually trusted most of the league around you, some of the villains that would visit weren’t as trusted then he would keep you locked up in your room. He knew the ones he trusted though, he knew they wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m going out” Dabi says, placing you down on the couch. “You’re in charge, watch Y/n” He says, leaving the underground bar. He had noticed that your roots were starting to grow back in. Although not healthy for your hair, he couldn’t risk your identity being even some what findable through your fiery red hair that you got from your father. So he needed to go get more hair dye.

All of the villains in the room look at you as you sit with your toys in your lap. You just play with your small lego’s, not even noticing that your brother had left. The only problem was that no one knew who exactly he was talking to.

“Hehe, c’mon Y/n, let’s go paint your nails” Himiko giggles going to pick you up, only to be interrupted by Spinner. “Don’t leave, I’m supposed to be watching them” He whines, watching Himiko hold you. She only blinks at him.

“No, I’m watching them! I’m they’re favorite! Y/n loves spending time with their auntie Himiko! Isn’t that right, cutie?” She says, blowing a raspberry on your stomach before putting you back down on the couch to play with your toys.

“He left me in charge” Tomura mumbles, his eyes focused on his game on the TV. “What? Why would you be in charge?” Spinner asks, Tomura rolling his eyes. “Because I’m the leader” He says as if it were obvious.

Kurogiri sighs from behind the bar while cleaning glasses. “You all are so immature, that’s why he left me to watch them” He says, earning huffs from around the room. But they’re cut off by a small knock on a door.

“Dabi?” you say, knocking on his door. None of them were watching, you had left to the hallway. “Dabi” you say walking into the room, looking everywhere, even under the bed as if he could fit under there. “Where’s Dabi?” you whine, walking back into the lounge area, still looking for him. You were still very young but you could speak with very small sentences.

“He’s not here” Tomura states, not even thinking before saying it. “No-“ You whine, balling up your fist as tears start welling up in your eyes. “No, no, please don’t cry” Spinner panics, Himiko also trying to comfort you but it only makes you cry more.

“I want Dabi!” You cry, Dabi facepalming as he walks through the door with a box of hair dye in his hand. He walks by swooping you up into his arms.

“Can’t even leave you alone with them for five minutes” He huffs, carrying you off to your room as your crying calms now that he’s here.

This only causes another fight, they never did find out exactly who he was talking to.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere bnha x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere dabi #platonic yandere league of villains #yandere lov #platonic yandere lov #platonic yandere bnha

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hyunevlogs · 4 months

Text

“i’m not a bottom”

fluff - lee know x fem!reader (no fem!body mentioned tho)

worcount: 761

warning under cut !!

warnings: fighting (??), smutty ending (no smut tho), kind of assasin au— let me know if there is anything else

authors note: idk if i should write a part 2 on this?? (😭😭), english isn’t my first language, requests are open

“you’re starting to piss me off, minho”

“if you’re that mad, why don’t you make use of that anger?”

he was mocking me again, like he always does. right now it was pretty dark outside and about 4am in the morning. but here i was - training with lee know.

since he offered me to train me in order for me to get my revenge, i started living with him or better them.

the practice room had a heated atmosphere from fighting him for almost 2 hours straight. the worst of it all was that he won like almost every time and through that he started to piss me of only by his presence.

minho himself wasn’t even near being exhausted - his hair looked perfectly in place, he had no hard time breathing and the worst of it all was the nasty smile on those lips of his.

“wanna try defeating me again?”

he asked this so casually as if he couldn’t tell you were more than exhausted - sweat drops made their way down your forehead, your hair was all over the place and your lips were parted, so you could breath.

if you two were close enough with each other for him to be able to kiss you, he would definitely kiss you right now. you being a complete mess just did something to him.

you on the other side lost yourself in his intense and sharp eyes, when he suddenly broke the eye contact by looking away.

“what was the question you’ve asked again?”

he chuckled at your question - noticing he in fact had an effect on you so big you would forget what he had been asking you.

“i asked if we wanna go for another round?”

“sure”

and your reassuring answer was enough for him to attack you again. he ran towards you but you were fast enough to dodge his body.

this didn’t stop you to attack him back tho, because as he was fixing his posture you were able to catch him off guard and straddle him to the ground.

you two locked eyes when you were in top of him and in the moment where he wanted to open his mouth to speak again the door bursted open revealing bangchan and felix.

the two guys wore training fits as if they got ready to train in this room but the scene before them hold them back. both of them were close friends of minho’s, which you got to meet through your first dinner at this mansion.

and now they were both standing there in shock because of the position you guys were in.

“uhm, are we interrupting something?”

at the question of felix both of you nodded your heads in disagreement, when bangchan laughed and pulled his phone out in a swift motion to take pics for the groupchat.

“never knew that lee know was a bottom”

minho started frowning his brows at this statement - as if denying it. but with that sentence the two guys left you confused and alone again.

as you were still staring at the closing door minho used the opportunity to catch you off guard by lying his hands around your waist to turn you two the other way around, so he would sit on top of you now.

“try getting out”

“huh-”

it took you some time to clear your mind again and get back to the training. when you started trying shoving off, nothing seemed to help.

that’s why you started struggling, but when you did that with your hips to get him off you his emotionless and frowned face showed some kind of reaction.

his lips parted and let out a quiet but high-pitched sound.

you used his confusion to throw him off your body and stood up again. but it didn’t took him long to pin you down again and you were back to square one.

he opened his mouth to fill his lungs with oxygen again after doing his fast movements. suddenly his hot breath hit the side of your neck he he spoke in your ear:

“i’m not a bottom”

so this is what this about now? why did he got so worked up about a little comment of bangchan?

“i never said that, minho”

he looked somewhat satisfied by your bold response, but there was still something off about him. then you two just continued your training and afterwards you went back to your room to shower.

when your phone screen light up.

pt. 2?? if yes, pls write ideas !! | masterlist

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mvlders222 · 6 months

Text

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰

based off of the pixies song with the same name

pairing ; natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

wordcount ; 1.3k

summary ; while the yellowjackets team has plans to set up their own homecoming party, "doomcoming" if you will, natalie sneaks off only to find you. left alone with your thoughts and a bottle of alcohol, you have no choice but to confront each other about what was left unhandled before the crash.

warnings ; travis slander!!! alcohol, underage drinking, mention of nausea, angst, fluffy at the end. centered around episode s1xe9 "doomcoming." lowercase intended

"what are you doin' out here?" you looked up to see natalie pushing her way through bushes to get to you. you were sitting on the dirt close to the large tree that stood behind you. the roots were too uncomfortable to sit on properly.

you had previously held your head to your knees and away from the others, the world, and anyone who may've been watching. natalie glimpsed at your tear-stained cheeks in disdain, a sour taste left in her mouth as she tried to swallow it down.

you looked up to meet her gaze, quickly wiping the tears away. you didn't want her to see you like this. vulnerable. nothing seemed to have come from your efforts, however. lighter tears still emitting from your eyes. "nothing," you responded.

that clearly didn't work, as now she'd made her way closer. "doesn't seem like nothin'," her thick accent pushing through. it was one of the many features you had always loved about her. she sat down next to you, avoiding the tough roots that had grown their way underneath the ground and rock.

"i don't wanna talk to you right now," you sniffled a bit.

"you're not the first. i feel like everyone hates me right now." she looked down at the ground before her. her tone made it seem like she didn't care, but she had been hurt by your words.

you and natalie had had a past. it was full of hidden love for one another. skipping class to go makeout in the janitor's closets, having girl's nights whenever your parents were out of town. nothing had ever been official, and while you had feelings for her, you still believed that she had just been using you. but if this was the closest you two would ever get, you'd take that over ruining your friendship.

she was like a drug, though. you loved being around her, and the risk of getting caught was thrilling. but when you were apart, you were left alone with your thoughts and that was more horrifying than any boogeyman hiding under a child's bed.

everything changed after the crash, she had been going on longer hunts with travis and it had been hard to hide your dates. you started seeing her less and less and hated that she left you for a boy.

"what about travis?" you glanced at her slightly, secretly hopeful for her answer, although the thought of them made you want to vomit. "i thought you two were, um, together..?"

"i thought so too. actually, i thought i had feelings for him. he just thinks i'm a slut because i don't fit his perfect image," she laughed at this. "seriously, i don't know what i was thinking."

"he's a dick." that was all you could come out with. natalie laughed at the lone sentence. "he's more than a dick," she responded.

"do you remeber us? when we were happy?" you stared at her with those sad eyes. god, those eyes. she could never lie to you.

"yeah," she said without thinking. "i'm... sorry... about all of this."

it was silent after that. an eternity of awkward silence and you didn't exactly know how to break it. "just go back to the party, okay? i'm not ready yet."

"it was getting boring anyway." she pulled your attention to the bottle of what looked like cheap bourbon. "you want some?" she uncapped it and held it out to you.

without a word, you grabbed the bottle and took a swig. after a couple gulps, you handed it back to the girl and wiped your chin of any drink that dribbled down.

"jesus, do you have nothing to live for?" she teased while grabbing the bottle. her smile slightly dropped when she saw the look on your face. it was one of hopelessness, and your eyes, empty.

"not anymore." you rubbed your nose and sniffled. you turned to face her fully now. "i was gonna go to college, you know. i don't wanna be a housewife who hates my husband, dropping my kids off at soccer practice." tears started to well up in your eyes again at the very thought of this.

"you're overthinking. trust me, that's not gonna happen." natalie brought the bottle away from her lips and looked at you again.

after a couple of sips from the both of you, the bottle was now nearly empty. while that conversation was long forgotten by natalie, it still remained in the back of your mind, taunting you.

"how do you know?" it wasn't meant to be mean, it was a genuine question.

natalie had no idea what you were talking about. as her laughing died down from some stupid joke she made, confusion quickly took over. "huh?"

"how do you know what's gonna happen? after all this?" natalie looked deeply into your eyes and reached out to grab your hand.

"'cause giving yourself away to a man doesn't give you purpose. you're throwing your life away!" she was talking like you were out of your mind. and maybe you were, or maybe it was just the alcohol. because the next thing you did you would've never been able to have the courage to do.

you wrapped your hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close to you. your lips landed on hers and she kissed back without hesitation. in that moment, time stopped. the earth stopped spinning and you were the only two people on the planet.

after a while, you pulled back, much to her dismay, and rested your forehead against hers. she was left speechless at how forward it was. "i, um, wow..."

"tell me, how that one kiss was different than the thousands we've shared?" you teased her, filled with confidence knowing that you're the one that had left her flustered.

"it's been... a while," she finally pulled her head away from yours and stared at you earnestly. "you never know what you have until you've lost it, yeah?"

you smiled at her words. it may have not been the best thing to say in that moment, it may have been sort of dopey, but in that moment it had made your heart full again.

"i regret ever leaving you." natalie shook her head and she seemed ut of breath. "even if we never had anything before now. it hurts to think about."

"i love you," you startled yourself with your own words. now it was your turn to be flustered. "sorry," you laughed awkwardly.

natalie giggled, now feeling happier than ever. she kissed you deeply once more. she didn't have to say it back for you to understand that she really did love you back.

you didn't know what was going to happen next, or if you were going to remember this in the morning, but it didn't matter because she was all yours and you were hers.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x fem!reader #yellowjackets x female!reader #yellowjackets fanfic #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #natalie scatorccio x fem!reader #natalie scatorccio x female!reader #natalie scatorccio fanfic #fanfic

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luvrrszn · 7 months

Text

and they were roommates *

COLLEGE ROOMATE!MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER (18+)

summary miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

warnings [all sexual themes are at the bottom end of the post] explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, not proofread

a/n (gif posted originally by @/cantstoptheimagines, can't figure out tumblr's gif shit so i'm doing this instead, hope that's okay :)) guys i'm so bad at writing smut please go easy on me also if u have requests PLEASEEE send them in i'm so bored

masterlist

"oi! you left your panties on the countertop again, you goblin! take it back!" miguel yells at you from your shared bathroom.

"my bad." you mumble, a piece of toast in your mouth as you shuffle into the bathroom, in a hurry to grab your underwear off the marble countertop.

miguel watches, amused, as you scramble to get your things together before your 8am class. it's 7:48am, and it takes you at least 15 minutes to drive to campus, and that's if you make every green light on your way there.

you're lacing up your sneakers by the door as miguel pours himself a cup of coffee. he walks over to shut the door behind you after you leave. as you run down the hallway to the elevator, he calls out after you, "buy some juice on the way back, we're out of that."

you give him a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner.

—

you're cooking your favourite homemade meal—pesto pasta. turning off the stove, you turn around to grab a bowl from the shelves. when you turn back around, you see miguel hunched over your pan of pasta, mouth stuffed with food. YOUR food.

you slap him away from the pan, as he feigns hurt, "ow, ow, that hurts. now you gotta give me pasta to make up for it."

"you ate two bowls of instant noodles already, how are you still hungry? get away, boy." you swat his fork away.

"c'mon, please?"

you roll your eyes and give in.

you were never truly going to say no to miguel o'hara. you had cooked enough for two because you knew this was going to happen, and you knew you weren't going to say no to miguel.

—

"miguel! stop using my shampoo! and my lotion! you know they're super expensive, get your own!" you yell at him from the bathroom, inspecting the fullness—or now, emptiness of your body care products.

"hey, mami, what can i say? those are the real deal." he replies, barely looking away from his laptop.

"yeah, and they cost a shit ton. stop using my stuff and go back to your nasty 30-in-1 soap or whatever." you huff, glaring at miguel angrily.

—

saturday evenings are spent at the dining table going over the grocery list, preparing for your weekly sunday grocery runs.

saturday nights are spent on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.

sunday mornings are spent at the grocery store, wandering down the aisles even though you've been there every sunday for the past year and a half, ever since you moved in with miguel after a mutual friend introduced the two of you upon finding out you were both looking for a roommate.

sunday noons are spent unpacking the bags of groceries, which more often that not contain bags of junk food that miguel somehow managed to sneak into the cart.

sunday afternoons are spent doing laundry. miguel loads the washing machine while you handwash the delicate pieces that require extra care. afterwards, you toss what can be put into the dryer into the dryer while miguel hangs up the rest of the clothes to dry. then, the two of you settle into a comfortable routine of folding laundry.

that's just how it was. every week, without fail.

—

the moment you fell for miguel was when you caught a horrible cold and he took care of you.

despite you trying to shoo him away multiple times, he never gave up.

"come on, princesa. you're sick, let me help you."

"i look like a hot mess right now, miguel. just leave me alone, i'll be okay." barely finishing your sentence, you broke out in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"no can do. you're sick, so get your ass back into bed. i'll bring you some chicken soup, so for now, just rest." miguel replied, placing a bottle of water and some cold medicine on your bedside table.

when he returned, he found you curled up in your bed, duvet tucked under your chin. he placed the bowl of soup on your bedside table, before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, only to realise that you were burning up.

"take your meds, princesa. you're running a fever."

with his help, you washed your fever medicine down with a gulp of water. then, you snuggled back under the duvet. when miguel turned to leave, your hand shot out from under the duvet, grabbing his wrist. you croaked out a "stay".

without a word, miguel got into bed next to you, slipping his arm under your head. you curled into his chest, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

—

the moment miguel fell for you was when you left to visit family during summer break and he opened the refrigerator to find each shelf lined with containers of food.

you had left that morning, hand gripping your suitcase handle as you said to miguel, "try not to die, finding a new roommate with such short notice would be hard."

miguel grinned and flipped you the bird as you turned around and disappeared down the hallway to the elevator. closing the door behind him, miguel beelined for the refrigerator. maybe there was some yogurt he could have for a quick breakfast.

upon opening the refrigerator, he found that each shelf was packed containers of home-cooked meals, all prepared by you. well, that answered the question of why the apartment smelled so good when he got home last night.

there were containers of pasta, rice, chicken, salad, whatever you could think of, it was there. turning around, miguel spotted the sticky note you had left on the kitchen island. he picked up the light pink sticky note and read your note.

"seriously though, miggy. try not to die. i'd be a little sad if you did."

he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

—

you are the one who first confesses your feelings. on saturday night, after movie night, you gather all your courage and say, "miguel, look, i-i have to tell you something. and when i do, or even after i do, i need you to promise you won't hate me."

miguel's heart is racing. worries fill his head and his heart, and he can't help but wonder if you are going to tell him that you want to move out. he takes a deep breath, and replies steadily, "i could never hate you. go ahead, princesa."

you turn to look at miguel, and you say, "you're my best friend, and there's nothing i wouldn't do for you. you know that, right?" he nods.

taking in a shaky breath, you continue, "i like you. and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i can't remember a time where i didn't know you, and i'm not sure i want to either. so if you don't feel the same way, can we at least still stay—"

"shut up," miguel cuts you off.

you're taken aback, stammering, "w-what?"

"just shut up," miguel repeats as he moves towards you, encasing your lips with his. you let out a slight gasp, and miguel takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more. it's hungry and passionate, but also gentle and reassuring. words were no longer needed; words weren't enough for miguel to express how much he liked you back.

you let miguel take control. you surrender, savouring every moment of the kiss.

and it leaves you breathless.

—

from that night on, nothing much changes. but at the same time, everything changes.

your weekend routines remain the same, but throughout the week, there's sex. so. much. sex.

miguel's sex drive is crazy, and you can barely keep up. not that you're complaining.

"miguel," you let out a breathy moan. your left hand is tangled in his hair, your right hand littering his back with scratches. miguel fucks you relentlessly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you in one fluid motion.

his hands slide downwards towards your nipple, and he toys with them, tugging gently and rubbing them between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. one of his hands slides even further downwards, and traps your clit. he rubs slow circles on it, drawing a moan past your lips.

his coordination is crazy, and you're stimulated in all the right places.

miguel senses that you're near your climax, and he speeds up, slamming into you with such tenacity that you almost believe he's in such a rush because the world might be ending in two seconds.

miguel goes faster, rougher, deeper, helping you chase your finish. the knot in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens—then it snaps. you scream miguel's name as you cum all over his cock and go limp, seeing stars from what you think might have been the best orgasm of your life.

still deep in you, miguel feels every contraction of your pussy around his cock. you tighten around him, and after two more strokes of his hips, you're milking his cock for every drop of his cum.

out of breath, you lay there on the bed while miguel cleans up the mess on the bedsheets.

—

that afternoon, as you take out the trash, you bump into your next door neighbour, mrs palma. she looks and you and chuckles, "glad the two of you finally got together, but keep it down, wouldya, sweetheart?"

you turn as red as a tomato.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #across the spider-verse

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mcufan72 · 27 days

Text

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Warnings: contains angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, soft!dom/sub vibes, some drama, morally grey stuff. Maybe a bit of a filler chapter but necessary for the plot! I hope you enjoy.

While driving in his green Jaguar through the crowded streets of Downtown Manhattan, Loki tried to stay calm. The sunny weather didn't fit his mood. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and what had happened. He could still feel your kisses on his lips, your touches on his body, and he also couldn't forget the way you looked at him and how you made him feel. With your beguiling charm and your incredible art of seduction, you even made him submit to you. To show his submissive side was something he had never done that easily before. But when he finally decided to open up to you further and to give you not only his body but his heart too, you ran away, left him alone, leaving this letter for him. A letter full of heartache and pain, desperation and fear.

After you had this breakdown and cried in his arms, he hoped you'd open up to him as well and that you'd possibly tell him what made you feel so sad and hurt. He was wrong, maybe it was too soon and you two were not close enough to each other yet for such deep conversations. But he wanted you, he wanted you in his arms, in his heart and his life. And for that, he'd do anything so the most important thing was now to find you, no matter what. How was he supposed to not search for you when you were maybe in danger? Why didn't you ask him to help you? He would've given the money to you without hesitation, without demanding anything from you for this favour.

One day you will have forgotten me…

This sentence of yours echoed in his head. He could never forget you. Against all odds, you had grown to his heart, and he loved and craved you even more now. The blackmailing thing made him feel sick and drove him crazy. Who was doing this to you, his precious girl? He was so afraid that you could've left New York already before he got the chance to talk to you. He had so many questions.

Short time later, Loki arrived at the building where REA had its office and he left the car park with fast, long steps. He couldn't get fast enough to Rhea, not even knowing if she was already in the office because it was quite early in the morning. Loki pressed the doorbell and shortly after, the door opened and he entered the welcoming office. Light jazz and soul music and the smell of freshly brewed coffee conjured an incomparable and comfortable atmosphere. Everything in here was classy-modern and elegant but it didn't calm his nerves down. Inwardly he was scared and deeply worried but he wouldn't show it to anyone, especially not to Rhea, your boss. He was sure, according to your letter, she didn't know anything about the trouble you were in and he would never expose you to anyone.

“Good morning, Sir. How can I be of help?” Rhea greeted him kindly and offered her hand for a handshake, visibly impressed by the raven-haired, attractive man in black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket in front of her. Who could blame her? When he took his sunglasses off and looked at her with bright blue eyes she blushed but kept her professional attitude up.

“Good morning… Rhea, I guess?” Loki responded and took her offered hand in his.

“Yes, I'm Rhea. Mr.Larsson, right?” She asked him, her smile getting brighter when she recognised that he was much more handsome than in the photo she got from him some time ago.

“Yes, I'm Luke Larsson. I'm sorry for showing up that early in the morning and without an appointment but it's urgent and I need you to help me quickly and efficiently,” he explained.

“No worries, Sir. Please take a seat on the couch and let me know what I can do for you. Fancy a coffee?”

“No, thanks Rhea, I'm fine. I want to get straight to the point. It's about Miss Black.”

“I hope nothing happened between you two. If you're not happy anymore with her as your escort we will try to solve your problem,” Rhea took a seat next to Loki, facing him and raising her eyebrows. She was sure there hadn't been a problem between you two at all. She knew how much you liked him.

“No, I can assure you nothing happened. I appreciate Miss Black as my escort and I definitely don't want to book another of your surely lovely escort ladies. It's just that I need an appointment with her today. I know it's extremely spontaneous but… it's urgent, you know.” Loki still tried to stay calm and cool. He was sure Rhea would make it possible to fulfill his urgent request for your company.

“Let me have a look at Miss Black's schedule,” Rhea said, already knowing the answer. She stood up from the sofa and walked over to her desk, sat down on the chair and opened her laptop. Loki waited eagerly for her answer, nervously and subconsciously playing at his fingers. A habit he nearly had forgotten but he hadn't been that nervous for a very long time. You had brought out his soft side again. He had almost forgotten that he had a softer side. He had been alone for too long before he met you.

“I'm sorry, Mr.Larsson but Miss Black isn't available for the next two weeks,” Rhea told him. She just hoped Loki would take it easy and would be open for an appointment with one of her other escorts.

“What do you mean by that?” Loki's heart began to race. He must've gotten Rhea wrong.

“I mean what I said, Miss Black isn't available in the foreseeable future.”

“That's impossible. I need to see her!”

“Sir, I think you didn't get me right. It is impossible. Miss Black is unavailable.” Rhea stayed kindly but strictly.

“But I need to see her! If it's impossible, make it possible! I have an important event to attend and I need Miss Black to accompany me,” he answered with great emphasis. That he had to attend an event was a lie but of course, he couldn't tell Rhea the real reason why he needed to meet you promptly.

“Mr.Larsson, please… I can arrange an appointment with another excellent escort lady from my agency and I promise you you won't be disappointed. I'm certain we'll find the perfect lady for you,” Rhea assured him.

“I'm sure about that, Rhea but that's not the point. I just want to date Miss Black! Only her! Why isn't she available for the next two weeks? Did she get ill? Is she fully booked? Is she going to meet other… gentlemen and why didn't she tell me?” He knew he began to sound desperate. “Please, Rhea, tell me!” He was actually desperate, a fact that made him feel uneasy. He had never been this desperate because of a woman.

“Mr.Larsson, you must know that I won't tell you anything about the bookings, the whereabouts, or any other private things of my escort ladies. Please just accept that she's not bookable for the next two weeks.,” Rhea told him strictly.

“And I tell you to accept that I need to see her. Only her. Today. No matter what! I… because I… I have a soft spot for her, I really like her,” Loki stated and his last words were not much more than a whisper. He should better hold back all those feelings.

“Obviously,” Rhea muttered under her breath and suppressed a grin.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, frowning and trying to keep up the facade.

“Obviously, and I get that, Mr.Larsson. Miss Black is a wonderful and lovely woman,” Rhea confirmed.

“She is, indeed.” Loki took a deep breath before he continued. “So there's no chance to meet her?”

“No, Mr.Larsson. I'm genuinely sorry.”

“Could you please do me a favour then,” Loki said hesitantly, still hoping for Rhea's help even if it wasn't the kind of help he was looking for.

“Mr.Larsson, I'm asking you, please don't push it too far!”

“I'm not asking for any information. I'll pay Miss Black for the next two weeks,” Loki said, leaving no doubt that he was being serious.

“Mr.Larsson I'm not sure if you…” Loki jumped off the sofa and walked over to Rhea's desk.

“Listen, I don't want further information. I got it that she's not available… at least not for me. Regardless of whether she has appointments with other men or not, I pay for the next two weeks including the nights,” Loki interrupted her harshly.

“Mr.Larsson, please… it'll cost you a fortune and I'm not sure if Miss Black wants you to do this!” Rhea tried to intervene.

“I don't care about how much it costs me. I just care about her. Money doesn't matter, she matters. I ask you to cancel all of her appointments and to add my money to her bank account,” Loki stated demandingly. He couldn't know that you hadn't any appointment at all. He was used to always getting it his way so he was sure Rhea wouldn't discuss his plan with him further.

“Mr.Larsson, Miss Black isn't available and she's also not exclusively yours.” Rhea slowly got angry. At least it was none of her business but she wasn't sure if Loki was stalking you. She just wanted to guarantee your safety.

“Of course, she is! I pay for the time she would spend with me if she were bookable. I want her to meet me and me only. I won't discuss it with you any further!” Loki commanded. Just the tone of his voice was enough to command respect. His possessiveness and obsession with you got the better of him. Why didn't Rhea understand him? He just wanted to protect you and avoid you being forced to meet other men for money. How many men would you have to meet to earn that amount of money you needed for that damn blackmail? He could easily give the money to you but for some reason, you hadn't asked him for help and refused to take his money without working for it. He wanted to give it to you unconditionally and so he had no other choice than to do it this way. You would never have to meet other men again or worse, sleep with them. Men who didn't know how to treat you right, with decency and all the respect you deserved. The sheer thought of them touching you or worse, touching you intimately, drove him crazy and made him fume with anger. And besides this, you were his and his only. But he better stay calm. He wanted Rhea to cooperate with him and so he returned to a nicer tone.

“Rhea, please do me that favour. If you can't do it for me then do it for her. Please! She doesn't have to do anything about it. I won't ask for anything in return. I just want her to be safe.” Desperation overcame him again and he wished he could still hold you in his arms like he did last night. Damn, why didn't you stay and ask him for help? Why did you run away from him?

“That's pretty selfless, Mr.Larsson.”

“Call it what you want, I just care about her wellbeing. She doesn't belong… here,” and he let his gaze wander around the office and emphasized it with a sweeping motion of his arms. “She deserves a life of safety and happiness.”

“Exactly what everyone else here thinks,” Rhea muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Mr.Larsson. I'll do what you're wishing for. But I doubt Miss Black will be fond of it.” Rhea knew it was often fishy when it came to men wanting to pay lots of money for escorts or call girls and pretend not to want anything in return. She didn't think Loki was one of them but you never knew. She also sensed that he wouldn't give up that easily and that he was very serious when it came to you. There surely was more between you two than just the ‘escort-meets-client’ thing. She could see it in his gaze.

“Fond of what? Getting the money she needs without doing anything for it? I just don't want any other guy to lust for her or touch her. She deserves better. She deserves to be treated like a queen. I might not be the right man for her but if there's something I can do for her it's that. I just want to make it easier for her.”

“It seems, our lovely Miss Black has found her Prince on the white horse, the Knight in shining armour. It's a very noble gesture, Mr.Larsson, chivalrous even.”

“I'm anything but chivalrous, Rhea, believe me. I just want her to be okay,” Loki responded humbly. “So, could you please arrange an appointment with Miss Black in two weeks, as soon as she's bookable again?” Loki was well aware that he wouldn't get any further here with Rhea.

“Of course, Mr.Larsson. No issue.” Rhea told him the next free option to meet you. At least he now had the confirmation that you were still here, somewhere in New York.

“I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more help but…I'm just doing my job, Mr.Larsson.”

“It's okay, Rhea. I know and you're doing your job very well and conscientiously. I appreciate how you protect your escort ladies. Nonetheless, thank you for your time. Have a nice day, Rhea.” Loki could barely hide his disappointment. He had hoped for a different ending to this conversation. How could he have been that naive?

“Goodbye, Mr.Larsson and thank you for your understanding and cooperation. Let me know whenever I can do something for you or when you need an escort lady in the next two weeks,” Rhea said kindly. Loki nodded once, put his sunglasses on and left the office.

Back in his car, he angrily hit the steering wheel with his flat hands. “Damn it!” And tears welled up in his eyes. “Girl, where are you?” His question echoed against the windshield and stayed unanswered. Were you in actual danger? Were you scared? Were you crying? Did you miss him or had you already forgotten him? Did you care about him and how he felt after you vanished? Did you care at all? And by the way, he still wanted his scarf back. The thought made him huff and smile. And when you give it back to him he should tie you up with said scarf to his bed and fuck you properly and relentlessly until you'd promise him to never run away again. But before that, he would kiss the heck out of you and tell you how much you had scared him, how much he had missed you and how much he loves and adores you. He needed to search for you, immediately but he didn't even know where to begin. He would drive home and make a plan as to which places he should go to look for you. If you were still in New York he would find you.

**************************

You could barely keep your eyes open. The hour-long writing and staring at the screen of your laptop had exhausted you. Your back was achingly tensed up from sitting for hours at the table, writing your thesis. You tried to stay focused and to avoid too long breaks from studying. You were already behind schedule. The deadline would end soon and an extension of it would be impossible. Well, the day of payback and doom came closer and closer too but you pushed the thoughts of it away. You knew you couldn't do this forever, you had to face reality soon but for now, you didn't want to think about it. You'll find a solution to your problem. Soon, very soon but not now, not today.

You sighed heavily, ran your fingers through your tousled hair and buried your face in your hands. As soon as you closed your eyes, you saw him, Luke, or whatever his name was. Since you left him and his penthouse nearly a week ago you couldn't stop thinking about him. You permanently thought about his kindness, his warmth, his beauty, his tenderly demanding kisses, his skin on yours and how good he felt when he was inside of you. You missed him terribly. You didn't want to yet you did. Would he have slept with you if you hadn't asked him to do it? Possibly not. Luke was everything you ever wanted and you wished you would've met him under different circumstances.

Why couldn't you randomly have bumped into him on the streets of Manhattan? A meet-cute ending up in a café, followed by properly dating each other, would've been nice. Luke was attentive, mindful, kind, caring, affectionate, tender and incredibly erotic. The sex with him was so good and satisfying. He not only cared about his satisfaction, he cared about yours as well. Him, finger-fucking you in the limousine was the most erotic experience you've ever had so far, and not to talk about him allowing you to dominate him, later in his bedroom…and everything else afterwards. He truly saw you, he truly cared about you. He noticed and remembered everything you did, said or liked. The flowers he gave to you, the evening gown, the foot massage.

And he did all of this without even knowing you well. Luke had done everything Ralph had never done in five years. But Luke's affection, the blackmailing and your fucked up life scared you and it made you run away from him. He deserved better and not someone disgusting like you. The worst thing was you would never see Luke Larsson again. You had broken your rules, you had kissed him, a client and that was probably the most scary thing. Because breaking your rules has broken your heart… and his most likely, too. Something you didn't intend to happen, you never wanted to hurt him.

You were still denying it but you were into him. No, you were on the way to fall deeply in love with him. But you mustn't, you must forget him. He was your client and you had already gone too far with him. You were sure he would never forgive you and you hoped he had already forgotten you. You weren't any special or mattered, not at all, and certainly not to him. As much as it hurt, it was better this way.

You sighed again and tried to wipe away all those memories and visions of him. Running your fingers through your hair again, you stood up from your chair and stretched your stiff limbs. And Luke was still in your mind…and his scarf in the drawer of your dresser. You still had it. You shouldn't. You should've given it back to him already. You also shouldn't have lied to him. You didn't know how but he knew you were lying when you told him you hadn't found it on the floor of the hotel suite.

You just wanted to keep it, this little piece of silken fabric, a piece that belonged to him, a piece that gave you comfort and spread the scent of safety. His scent which you loved so much. You went straight to your dresser and took the scarf out of the drawer. You buried your nose into the silken fabric and inhaled deeply. It still smelled of him. You should better stop daydreaming and continue writing your thesis. You also should take a shower later, a cold one perhaps. You put the scarf back into the drawer, closed it and headed for the kitchen to prepare another mug of coffee. You turned some light jazz music on and continued working.

It was already 3 am when you went to bed after taking a hot shower. Cold water didn't help at all to wash him out of your system. You took Luke's scarf out of the drawer again, laid down on the bed and pulled your duvet up under your chin. You took a whiff and even though you were tired you felt arousal rise in you. You missed him and you missed his touch. Your fingers found your clit and you pleasured yourself gently but straight to a mind-numbing orgasm to get some stress relief, thinking of him.

On the other side of the Hudson, Loki laid on his bed and jerked himself fast and hard to a badly needed orgasm. He needed some relief from the pain he felt inside of him since you were gone and untraceable. His search for you in the last few days had been unsuccessful so far but you were always on his mind and tomorrow he'd continue to look for you. There were still some places he could search for you. You both didn't know that you pleasured yourselves at the same time, that you thought of each other and cried each other's names at the same time when your climaxes washed over you in the middle of the night. You were so close to each other yet so far away.

When you came down from your high you covered your eyes to keep the daylight out of your system as long as possible because the sun would rise soon. But instead of using your sleeping mask, you used Luke's scarf, covered your eyes with it and tied the two ends comfortably at the back of your head. You dropped your head in the cuddly pillow and a sigh escaped your mouth, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I miss you, Luke… and I love you,” you whispered tiredly. In the warmth of your duvet, engulfed by the quietly playing jazz music from your sound system and by the scent of his cologne, sleep finally took you.

Loki was about to fall asleep when he thought he had heard your tired voice, telling him that you missed and loved him. He knew he was just imagining it hence he hoped that you would at least come to him in his dreams.

The next morning, you were already sitting in front of your laptop again, your phone blinked and vibrated next to you on the table. You were knee-deep in writing your thesis and you weren't in the mood to answer any calls, not to talk about that you didn't have any time for it. You saw Rhea's name popping up on the display and you decided to answer the call.

“Hey, Rhea. What's up?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry for disturbing you but… we have an issue,” Rhea explained.

“An issue? What happened?” You were curious about what she had to tell you and at the same time, you felt some anxiety arising in your gut. Did she want to sack you? That would be a catastrophe. Did Luke tell her what had happened between you two, that he was mad at you especially because of the letter you had written for him? Was it about him at all?

“It's about Mr.Larsson, dear.” Rhea sounded serious. The tight feeling in your stomach got worse.

“Mr.Larsson?”

“Yes, dear. I already waited for too long to tell you about it. Please come to the office if you can. It's urgent but I don't want to tell you about it on the phone,” she said, her tone slightly concerned.

“Okay, give me thirty minutes,” you answered, uncertain about how this meeting would end for you.

“Fine, I'll be here, waiting for you,” and you both ended the call.

“He did what? I don't understand. Who does he think he is? How DARE he? Guess I should be flattered,” you stated angrily thirty minutes later when you sat at Rhea's desk. But if you were being honest you also appreciated his concerns.

“Yeah, he doesn't want you to meet other men anymore. I suppose he cares about you, a lot.” Rhea had told you everything about her conversation with Loki and also apologized that she had waited for so long to tell you about it and that she hadn't sent you the money yet. She had been uncertain what to do with all the money Loki had already sent to her bank account to send it further to yours. She didn't want to do anything wrong and wanted to talk with you about it so she left the money untouched.

“Dear, we both know you don't belong here. You should take his offer. I'm sure he just wants to help,” Rhea tried to convince you.

“No! I won't take his money. It feels like he would buy me,” and you jumped off of the chair in front of Rhea's desk. “I know that I'm kind of a whore but… it's my decision, you know. I decide to meet a man or not. I decide which guy's money I take and how much. Does he really think if he offers the biggest amount of money he can own me and tell me what to do?” You were furious and walked up and down in the office. “I won't accept that!”

“I don't think he wants to buy or own you. I'm sure if you would tell him why and for what you need so much money he would give it to you without hesitation. That guy has feelings for you, you've grown on him and it seems…”

“Nonsense! And he knows, Rhea. I told him. No details, but he knows,” you interrupted her.

“Even better!” Rhea cheered. “And he still wants to help you! I know something is going on between you two and that something has happened. I don't want to know any details but this man is desperate and you should talk to him. He urgently wanted to meet you for a reason and I'm pretty sure you know what reason it is. Sorry, y/n but I really don't get why you are refusing his help.”

“Because I'm sure… no… I know one fine day he wants something in return. Everything in life has its price, Rhea. Life gives you nothing!” A single angry tear escaped your eye.

“I'm not sure about that, dear. Luke Larsson might be your way out of this business, out of your misery. We both know you don't belong here, desperation brought you here, to my agency, to my office. I'd be very sorry to lose you as my escort lady and I'd love to stay your friend but you should take this chance,” Rhea tried to convince you.

“No! I don't need a savior and I don't need love or care. I need money, lots of money… you have no idea,” you answered strictly.

“Then take his money, for heaven's sake! If you need the feeling of having worked for it try to imagine you'd meet him every day including the nights without actually meeting him. It's not that difficult. Your pride and stubbornness won't help you out of your bad situation, y/n.”

“Enough! End of discussion, Rhea. I can't and I won't take his money without working for it. I just can't do it. I never want to be owned by a man again, certainly not. I don't want to depend on a man’s mercy ever again. And the day will come when he demands a kind of payback, a kind of reparation. I refuse his offer, and you Rhea give him his money back. I don't want it. And also I want you to cancel my appointment with him, I don't want to meet him ever again. I leave now, I've a lot of work to do,” your tone dripping with anger and desperation. “Bye Rhea, see you next week when I'll have finished my exams,” you murmured sadly.

“Of course, dear. I'll send him his money back if this is what you want. I hope everything turns out well for you. Bye, dearest,” Rhea said and you hurriedly left the office without a further word. Rhea felt bad for you. She understood your motifs but she wished you would've accepted Luke's try to help you because it seemed this man genuinely cared about you. Of course, she accepted your wish and sent the money back with the note ‘acceptance denied’.

You wanted to laugh and to cry all at once. Why couldn't he just forget you like you had asked him for in your letter? And on the other hand, you felt wanted and cared for if it was true what Rhea had told you. Was he really desperate to find and meet you? Not that it would change anything. You had cut the wire and there was no comeback now.

You were still too upset to continue working on your thesis and so you walked aimlessly on the crowded sidewalks of the Manhattan streets. About an hour later you stood in front of the New York Public Library and immediately you thought about the conversation you had with Gabby about the Avengers and the Invasion of New York. Shortly after your last night with Luke, you couldn't resist finding out more about the incident and him.

To your astonishment, there was nothing much to find on the Internet and it seemed photos and articles from twelve years ago had been removed from the websites. Normally you wouldn't care about it but somehow you wanted to know who Luke was and what he had to do with the Avengers, the Invasion, and the avoided total destruction of New York City. You should be able to get access to old newspapers from that time and you also may find photos of him. And maybe you would find out his real name. It wouldn't change the fact that you'd never see him again but you wanted to know whom you had kissed and slept with, to whom you had given your heart.

You sat at a desk in the library, scrolling through several articles in the newspapers from twelve years ago. It took some time until you found the articles about the incident. There were short ones, side-long ones but no photo so far with all the Avengers in it. Mostly there were photos of a certain Tony Stark because his building was somehow involved in this so you scrolled further on the screen. And then, you had found it, a photo that involved all of them. In the photo, you also saw the three men you had dated: Steve Rogers, the fantastic dancer. Scott Lang, the guy who made you laugh the whole evening. Bruce Banner, with whom you had one of the best conversations and who invited you to a delicious dessert.

You scrolled further through the article and then you found it. The photo you were looking for. A photo of a handsome raven-haired man, incredibly attractive and with piercing blue eyes. The man you had dated, had sex with, and finally had kissed. You found his name written under the picture. Your friend was right. His name wasn't Luke Larsson. His name was Loki Laufeyson.

*************************

Loki was weary and worn. Day after day he has searched for you without any success, without any hint of where you could be. He had searched for you everywhere, he visited every place he had been with you, he looked for you in every cafe, bar, bistro, restaurant, gallery, museum, and park, he went several times to Vivian's Velvet, he even visited every bookstore or grocery store. Nothing. It seemed you had vanished from the face of the earth. Maybe it would've been easier if he would know your real name but without that, it was nearly impossible to find you.

Also, you refused to accept his money. He was disappointed and it kind of hurt him when he saw the money had been credited to his bank account again with the note ‘acceptance denied’. You neither wanted his money nor wanted to be found. But he wouldn't give up on you. Not yet and most likely never. Nonetheless today he would go to Vivian's Velvet for one last time. His very last try to find you.

Cast down, he took a seat at the bar and ordered a whisky. Today he just wanted to get drunk and he drank his whisky in one big gulp. “Another, please,” he asked the barkeeper, who placed a further whisky in front of Loki. This one he also gulped down in one swift sip. “Another!” He growled darkly and the barkeeper refilled Loki's tumbler. Why didn't the alcohol help to wash this dull ache and the sadness away? It had always worked in the past when he took a bath and had a glass of wine and never thought about his lost love interests again. Why didn't it work this time? He emptied his whisky quickly and ordered another one.

“Hello, handsome. Shouldn't you slow down a bit?” An attractive, tall, red-haired woman addressed Loki and took a seat on the bar stool next to him, temptingly crossing her long, black nylon-dressed legs. Her short black leather dress showed more of her bodily features than it covered.

“Mind your own business, my Lady. My drinks are none of your concerns,” Loki stated, annoyed without looking at her and took a sip of his next whisky. He didn't want to be rude but he wasn't in the mood for a conversation or flirting.

“Does it hurt that much? What is it you're trying to numb so desperately? Want me to distract you, pretty one? Want to play with me?” she offered him, her voice soft like velvet and her fingers trailed gently over his forearm up to his bicep. Loki immediately grabbed her hand and stopped her from touching him.

“Don't! I appreciate your tempting offer and you're a really pretty woman but I'm not interested, thank you,” Loki informed her, looking sternly at her. She withdrew her hand from his grip and smiled at him.

“I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to be pushy. I just thought I could help you to forget some of your… grief.”

“That's very kind of you but nothing and nobody can help me to forget, I guess.” Loki swirled the whisky in his glass, staring absent-mindedly at the golden-brown liquid.

“That bad?” She asked cautiously.

“Yeah, it's that bad,” Loki swallowed the entire contents of his tumbler. With the emptied glass he gestured to the barkeeper to refill it and turned his head towards the woman next to him.

“Can I get you something? What would you like to drink? Champagne, a cocktail or something else?”

“Champagne would be nice,” she answered sweetly. “Is she nice?” She wanted to know.

“Who? What do you mean?” Loki asked, irritated and playing with the whisky tumbler in his hands.

“The woman you try to forget,” she responded smilingly.

“How do you know I'm trying to forget a woman,” Loki responded, looking quizzically at her.

“Because men try to drown their pain and lovesickness in lots of alcohol and mostly they're having casual sex with a Callgirl too. That's why many of them are coming here to Vivian's,” she explained knowingly.

“I'm not one of them. I came here a few times to look for her and we had our first date here. She's gorgeous. Over time we became closer to each other and then she vanished. And now I'm looking for her but without success,” Loki told her and emptied his whisky glass.

“So she's one of us?” She wanted to know.

“Kind of. She is… was my escort lady.”

“An escort? Maybe I know her… what's her name?” She asked him.

“Yeah! Yeah, maybe you do!” Hope arose in Loki again. “Her name is Sugar,” and Loki was sure she'd know promptly who he meant. But her answer crushed his hope.

“Sugar, you say?” She contemplated for a moment before she answered him. “No, I'm sorry, I've never met an escort here named Sugar.”

Loki nodded sadly and gave her a description of your appearance when he suddenly remembered a little something.

“Do you possibly know an escort lady named Candy?” He asked her excitedly. It was the last glimmer of hope.

“Candy? Yes, of course, I remember her. She's lovely but I haven't seen her for weeks now. Maybe she quit, I don't know. We were never close, you know.” Loki's hope died instantly and he took a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He slowly believed the universe didn't want him to see you ever again.

“What a lucky girl she is. I wish such a great guy like you would love me like that and look for me like you are looking for her. But I'm sorry, handsome, I think I can't help you. You need to continue searching for her, I guess.” She genuinely pitied him. He was truly sad and desperate and obviously in love.

“And yet she ran away,” Loki murmured. “No worries, it's alright. I won't stop searching for her but I don't want to keep my hopes up too high, you know. But I appreciate you're trying to help me,” Loki continued but could barely hide his disappointment.

“No issue. I'm sure you'll find her. Love always finds a way. Heads up, handsome,” she said, trying to rebuild his confidence.

“I just hope you're right,” was the only thing Loki could answer.

“Thank you for the champagne, I'll leave now. And hey, don't give up on her. I'm sure she is waiting for you. You're a very decent man… coming here frustrated and love-sick and refusing a good fuck… if this isn't fidelity and love then I don't know what is. Good luck, pretty boy” she said kindly, smiled at him, hopped off the bar stool, and went away. She was looking for a man to spend a night in bed with and maybe she would fall in love with one of her clients too but she knew Loki wouldn't be the one. This place in his mind, in his heart, and in his bed was already taken.

It was in the early morning hours when Loki decided to finally go home when he saw a black limousine in the car park right in front of Vivian's Velvet. He was instantly sober. Walker casually leaned against the vehicle, a coffee from a takeaway in his hand. He had had a long night after his two-week vacation but now his shift was over and he would drive home soon. Loki and Walker never crossed their paths in the last few days or nights but it seemed it was meant to be that Loki was meeting him now. Not Vivian's was his last hope, Walker was and Loki was well aware that only Walker could help him to find you. It wouldn't be easy to break his secrecy. But he wanted to give it a try. If this wouldn't work, nothing would.

“Good morning, Walker. Hope you're fine. Do you remember me?” Loki greeted him.

“Good morning, Mr.Larsson. Of course, I remember you, Sir. I hope you're doing well, too,” Walker replied, unsure what Loki might want from him.

“Haven't seen you for a while,” Loki continued. Walker took a sip of his coffee and stared emotionlessly at Loki over the rim of his mug. Walker was cautious with every suitor of the escort ladies he was responsible for.

“I don't want to beat around the bush. I need your help, Walker and it's urgent,” Loki told him, with sadness in his voice. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos and waited for Walker's reaction.

“What kind of help, Sir?” Walker grumbled, raising his eyebrows. He didn't trust a suitor, least of all the pretty ones.

“Sugar. I need to find her and it's urgent. I have looked everywhere for her, days and nights for the nearly last two weeks and I can't find her. Please, Walker, I need you to help me,” Loki asked him desperately.

“What makes you think I could help you, Mr.Larsson?” Walker questioned him dismissively.

“You know where she lives, you always drive her home after her dates. Walker, please bring me to her, I really need to talk to her. I need to see her,” Loki responded firmly, gesticulating with his hands to emphasize his request. Walker's answer was a deep, wholehearted laughter.

“And why should I do that, Sir? Do you really think I'd drive suitors to the escorts’ homes? I'm sorry, Mr.Larsson but this is really ridiculous.”

Loki rolled his eyes annoyed and bit lightly into his lower lip, placing his hands on his hips.

“I genuinely appreciate your discretion Walker and I'm glad that you take your job that seriously but you quite don't understand the urgency of this matter…I. Need. To. See. Sugar. Please!”

“No! I won't bring you to her home. I'll protect the ladies and nothing will change that. Not even a filthy rich guy like you!” Walker grumbled darkly. He would protect the escorts at all costs, especially you because he had a soft spot for you.

Loki walked towards him until their noses were almost touching. They gave each other a death stare and if looks could kill both would die instantly.

“Bring me to her,” Loki demanded insistently.

“No!”

“You'll bring me to her, Walker! Don't make me force you!” Loki's anger was growing fast but it was the anger of a man who was desperate to find his beloved girl.

“No!” Walker didn't give in. He couldn't know that he would lose any kind of fight against Loki but he would defend your privacy until his very end.

“Damn Walker, she's in danger, she needs help, urgently! So get up your ass and bring me to her!” Loki was upset but of course, he didn't want to hurt Walker physically, it wouldn't help anyone. But something in Walker cracked. He frowned and Loki took one step backwards.

“In danger? Why should I believe you?” Walker asked curiously. He was genuinely concerned now.

“Because it's the truth and you need to trust me.”

“I never trust a suitor. Sugar always spoke highly of you but it's my golden rule to never trust the men who book an escort lady.” Walker explained vehemently.

“She spoke to you about me?” Loki wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad sign.

“She just answered my concerned questions, nothing more but she was always fond of you. So, tell me, why should I believe or trust you? Maybe you're just telling fuckin’ lies to get to her.”

“In the last night we spent together we came very close to each other, not only physically but emotionally too. She stayed for a reason the whole night, you should remember that night and you got well paid for it that you waited until the next morning for her.” Walker remembered that night very well because it was something that didn't happen very often.

“She left without a word when I was still sleeping and the only thing she left for me was a letter, in which she told me mostly everything about her,” Loki continued.”She's in danger, Walker. Someone is blackmailing her. She needs my help. Please, Walker, we're on the same side, we both love her, each his own way, and we both want to protect her. Walker, I'm begging you, bring me to her!” Why the hell was this man so stubborn?

“Do you have any witness of what you're telling me?” Walker was still wary towards Loki but his concerns for you grew. What if he told the truth?

Loki pulled your letter out of the inner pocket of his jacket, unfolded it and showed it to Walker. He didn't give it to him because its contents were too private and just meant for him and it was the only thing he had from you besides the thong he had stolen from you when he pleasured you on the backseat of the limousine which stood right in front of him now. He carried your letter always with him like a treasure. He just wanted Walker to see it and prove to him that he wasn't lying.

“She wrote it in this letter. I told you the truth. Please help me, Walker.” Loki begged him quietly, tears brimming in his eyes. Walker frowned and rounded the limousine.

“Get into the car, Mr.Larsson. I'll take you to her!” That was what Loki wanted to hear.

“Thank you, Walker. I owe you.” A big smile appeared on Loki's face. He put your letter back into his pocket again and he quickly jumped into the car.

The sun was shining brightly this morning. Not only in the sky but also in Loki's heart. He put his sunglasses on and not much later, Walker parked the limousine in front of the building you were living in.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹❤️‍🩹🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @gruftiela @anukulee @fandxmslxt69 @foxherder @depressedpolishgirl @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices14 @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader angst #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader fluff #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader au #Spotify

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lifewithdavefarts · 2 months

Text

DaveFarts - Episode 29 “Ripped Ripper” [Episode List] Dave’s gym is closed due to maintenance so he decides to do some working out at home. Lazy Tim doesn’t want to join him, but Dave knows how to make things more… interesting for his kinky bro.

POV: Tim

Ripped Ripper

Another lazy Sunday evening, a great reward after a busy week like the one both me and my friend/roommate Dave just had. I was in my bedroom minding my own business, reading stuff on my laptop, listening to some music: perfect pre-Monday night for a guy like me, now 30, too tired at the idea of doing something that demands a bit more commitment than, well, this. I even closed the window shutters this morning so the Sun couldn’t bother me with its very inappropriate life-bringing light.

Luckily, Dave is a fellow lazy man, so I know I have a good roommate when it comes to just chilling in silence, without even interacting, after a long week. I’ll ask if he wants pizza though, least I can do for not, well, not making up any plans for tonight.

“Babe, come here!”

Speak of the Devil.

I heard my bro from his room, next to my own. I know him, he probably didn’t even need me for anything important, as his voice had that tone he uses to mess with me (and our other buds) like the idiot prankster he sometimes can be.

“Here I come.” I replied, very maturely putting a lot of emphasis on that last word.

I… took my time to actually go on check on him, ‘cause I liked the song I was listening to. Once it was over, I managed to get up, almost tripping on my own sweatpants and slippers somehow.

I walked to his room, knocked a couple of times on the door, which was open, and looked at him with the most bored expression I could muster.

“You rang?”

Faint rock music was coming out of Dave’s smartphone on a desk while he was sitting on his bed. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, a pair of grey basketball shorts, and sneakers.

“Not interested.” I then said, walking back to my room.

I heard Dave laugh and then his own footsteps right behind me. He grabbed my left arm and pulled me back to his room. I didn’t fight back ‘cause I know I couldn’t; not because of Dave being strong or anything but because I knew he won’t leave me alone the whole evening.

“Not gonna let you dump me for the fourth time this week.” he said.

“I said I’m not interested.” I replied.

He let me go, sat again on his bed and looked up to me.

“No, you said you wanted to exercise.”

“…eventually!”

“You didn’t say ‘eventually’, you said ’next week’.” He got up and patted my shoulder. “Come on, give it a shot.”

I sighed, defeated, but I still wanted to slip my way out of that situation in a way or another.

“I already tried the gym with you once and I got bored pretty quickly.”

“Oh shut up, you stopped showing up because you were too busy crushing on that hot guy, so much so you got too afraid to work in with him.”

I looked at him with a puzzled look, pretending to have no idea of what was he talking about.

“Also I’m way hotter than him and I’m very offended by your poor taste.” he joked.

I rolled my eyes in response, even though, yeah, I do think Dave is quite hot, regardless of my kink obviously.

“Look.” I said. “I just don’t feel like it today, I hav-“

“I have to work tomorrow” he completed my sentence, also doing a very poor imitation of my voice. “So do I, man. It’s not even 4:00 PM. The Sun’s still up. Do you even look outside of your window sometimes?”

I literally shook my head in disbelief.

“Wait, what?”

I sincerely thought it was, like, almost dinner time. Maybe Dave’s got a point, after all.

“…maybe you’re right.”

I noticed a small exercise mat on the floor by Dave’s bed; I simply sat there, waiting for my friend’s instruction.

“Alright, lead me to a healthy life of wellness where I don’t trip on my own slippers.”

“Well you’re in the wrong place!” Dave excitedly said, in a bit of self-irony since he’s not super fit himself, but he’s better than me at this no doubt.

The room was big enough so the two of us could lie on the floor. He pretty much lied on his back next to me as a way to “guide” me through the first exercise, one I was actually familiar with: crunches.

“Should I do some warm-up first?” I asked.

“Yeah, you should have, but since you’re right here just… give it a shot. It’s not like you’re gonna die.” He placed his hands on the back of his own head, starting the exercise. “…I think.”

Even though the fact that I’m into farts and that my friend right here constantly blasts me should be the most embarrassing thing about myself, my performance during this first, relatively easy exercise was definitely more painful to watch: I couldn’t even finish a set (around 20 crunches), while Dave was humiliating me. I struggled so much and felt pain in my chest for some reason; I was already sweating and panting.

Not even 5 minutes in and I already wanted to quit.

“Yeah.” I managed to say, lying on my back, as my bro kept crunchin’. “Not my cup of tea.”

“The hardest part is getting started.” he commented.

“Wow. Thanks Master.” I replied, sarcastically.

He stopped mid-crunch, and turned to me, looking me at funny.

“Tim, blasting you with my farts doesn’t make me your Master.” he said, with a mocking tone.

I instantly sat back up as if I woke up from a nightmare.

“What the fuck.” I turned to him, as he resumed doing his crunches. “Where did that come from?!”

“It’s fine bro.” he kept teasing me. “You can keep calling me ‘Dave’ if that’s fine for you.” he laughed.

Hearing my straight friend just casually making references to my fart kink, let alone the fact that he constantly face-farts me, will always be wild to me, like a fever dream. And also insanely hot, dammit.

“Is this because I suck at doing crunches?” I asked, not very politely.

“No, it’s because you’re already giving up.”

“It’s just…” I sighed. “That’s just my thing bro, sorry. But thanks for trying to help, really.”

I lied on my back again, defeated, as Dave kept exercising. I could sense my friend looking at me, probably with his usual smirk, completely unfazed by me moping around, exhausted.

“Well… maybe I can do something to make things a bit more interesting for your lazy ass.” I heard him say, finally breaking the silence.

A silence that soon became a distant memory as the sound of Dave’s sudden, loud fart shook the entire room, easily surpassing the faint rock music coming from his phone. I’m used to my bro’s blasts and trust me, they are almost always loud, but this one felt even stronger somehow. It was also, but that goes without saying, long, like 9 seconds long.

As ridiculous as I may sound… I had to see it.

I sat back up one more time so I could get a good view and I saw Dave still lying on his back, one leg up to ease the blast out. How the grey fabric of his basketball shorts could endure that stream of gas is a mystery to me. His eyes were closed: he had the facial expression of someone surprisingly struggling to keep that blast going, a sign that he was holding that gas in for a while, which is unusual ‘cause my friend usually can rip monstrously long and loud blast with relative low effort.

Whether the case… that was a very hot sight, the tent I pitched in my sweatpants being the undeniable proof.

As the fart kept going, Dave lifted his left leg even more, as if there was a recoil, making it even louder.

The fart lasted around 14 seconds and my friend let out a quick sigh of relief as he ripped one last toot out. That sounded (and looked) more exhausting than me trying to do crunches.

The teasing bastard winked at me, ‘cause he knows how to press all the right buttons of my fetish.

“You know what I’m capable of…” he said. “Now imagine my skills, like, powered up by protein shakes.” he laughed and let another loud, but shorter (around 3 seconds) toot out to prove it, not that he needed to, as his farting skills are always jaw-dropping.

Still, he’s a teasing bastard.

The scent of his ass polluting the room reached my nose and I coughed a bit for how rancid that was.

“Are you seriously… bribing me with farts?” that’s a sentence I just said, fuck my life.

“Maybe.” another quick toot followed. “Is it working?”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“Can’t finish a set of crunches and he wants to punch me.” he laughed. “Pissing you off is so easy bro.”

“I’m not pissed off.” I wanted to clarify. “You… you’re just making me hard.”

Even though Dave knows about my kink and fully accepted me, I still have a hard time letting him know that his farting skills (and teasing, nonetheless) never fail to give me a massive boner.

Dave looked at me funny, faking a serious expression. Then let out another loud rip in response, around 4 seconds long. Why do I even worry…

“Of course.” I simply said, too embarrassed to even look at him though.

As usual, he didn’t care, and only found my awkwardness hilarious. Disgustingly hilarious.

“It’s fine… at least you tried.” he then said. “We’ll give it another shot tomorrow.”

I turned to him, appreciating the encouraging words.

“Still.” he said, adjusting his position. “I’m still gonna need a spotter to count those.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, without thinking. “I can do that.”

He let out an evil cackle in response, with that smug, hot smirk drawn on his face.

“So, what are we counting? Pushups? Crunches? Stars?”

I remained seated on the floor as Dave stood up, easily towering over me. He looked down to me and I, silly me, realised too late where this was going, even though I should have known.

“Who said anything about pushups and crunches?”

My gassy friend turned around and, simply put, sat full weight on my head as if it was a stool, his very gentle way to force me to lie down, with yet another loud toot thrown into the mix for good measure, one that I could properly smell this time.

The protein shakes are a powerful fuel and the scent reminded me of rotten eggs, which made me cough again as I lied down, letting my bro’s ass crush me.

However, that didn’t happen, not as violently as I expected at least. Dave’s ass was actually hovering only inches from my face; he could easily simply sit on me and let his ass roar but for some reason he didn’t.

“One.” I heard Dave say.

A fart quickly followed, loud, high pitched and wet-ish. I had to close my eyes as I literally felt the rancid gas erupting on my face, the thin grey fabric of Dave’s basketball shorts being the only thing separating me from his raging anus.

After a couple of seconds, the fart ended, and my bro got back up, but he wasn’t done at all. He let me took some breaths of (relatively) fresh air, only to bend his knees again mere moments later.

He was squatting over my face, basically, his ass barely tickling the tip of my nose.

“Two.”

Yet another impressive fart, the stench adding up to what was left of the previous one. Things were already getting too exhausting even for my trained nostrils: this is why I should never leave my room again.

But as much as I could “hate” what was happening, as Dave’s ass roared all over my face, my boner only got harder. My bro is not the hottest man in the world but he is quite hot and having a guy like him blasting me so effortlessly, no strings attached, will never cease to amaze me.

I was definitely enjoying the sound more than the smell however, which made me feel like I was drowning in a sewer.

“What the fuck did you put in that protein shake, man?!”

I managed to ask, my voice being almost nothing compared to the loudness of the fart Dave was still ripping all over me. However, he did hear me, as his ass “bounced” a bit over my nose, a sign that he was laughing like the jerk bully he sometimes can be.

After a total of 12 seconds I was greeted with newfound silence and my bro got up, but before I could do or say anything or, you know, breathe, he squatted again.

“Three.”

Another loud rip, this time shorter, about 4 seconds, but still extremely dangerous stench-wise. Also, those were getting wetter and wetter. The sweat dampening Dave’s asscrack through his grey shorts didn’t help at all and only made the fart wetter and the stench stronger.

My bro’s ass went silent and I quickly asked a simple question.

“How many squats are you planning to do exactly?”

Dave laughed in response, as usual. “You tell me, it’s leg day.”

The second part of his answer was him squatting again on my face, this time making sure to crush my skull. He then made sure to shove down my throat and nostrils another powerful, protein shake-powered blast.

A wet one, a fully wet one, but Dave was a pro, so I knew it was just very nasty gas. Still, a good challenge to test the limits of my already disgusting kink. The blast was so powerful it made droplets of sweat from his ass rain all over my face: whether Dave was sweating because of the squats or the endeavor of pushing such big farts out I shall never know.

What I did know, is that after 9 seconds, Dave got up again, and at this point I couldn’t even remember what pure oxygen tasted like as not only my face, but the entire room was now basically engulfed with gas.

Dave instead, towering over me, proudly took a deep breath, showing off his muscles (which wasn’t a lot, but he definitely looked ripped when compared to me) and then stared down at his victim.

“And you wanted to quit.” he stated.

I couldn’t even come up with a proper comeback because his ass was already in my mouth, hastily erupting yet another fart, one I could actually taste.

He kept squatting on my face, repeatedly, each time ripping a fart, a loud wet rip, each time sweating more and more. My friend was wearing a pair of grey basketballs shorts but all of that sweat made his asscrack completely visible, basically proving he went commando for some reason, which also meant that there was basically nothing between me and the sheer force of Dave’s anus.

My bro farted so many times in my face over the last months I couldn’t even count it, but things rarely got this… filthy.

I got my face soaked wet in sweat which wasn’t even mine, but rather from Dave’s ass, fart-scented and fart-flavoured sweat; kink or not, my limits were being tested here.

And apparently, Dave’s job is completely ignoring such limits.

For his 20th and final squat, he just completely sat on my face, spreading his legs wide, so my nose could easily fit in his sweaty, ripe asscrack. He wiggled his ass as if he was wiping the sweat off of it using my face, and then I felt him push.

Bubbles, that’s how I can describe it. That display of flatulence was as wet and disgusting as you imagine, a mix of gas and sweat engulfing my nose and nostrils, making my entire head shake, so rancid I could smell it without even breathing in.

The fart was so thick I could taste it and my eyes were burning for all that gas.

I feared that Dave’s limit were also being tested here, given how wet that fart was; but no, it was just terrible, terrible air coming out from his sweaty ass.

After almost 20 seconds of torture, I was done.

The sewer comparison I made before was now in full effect: truth to be told, I couldn’t take it anymore, I was drowning, suffocating, and I wanted to get out of there, I needed air, like actual air, oxygen.

Mustering all the strength I have in what passes for “muscles” in my arms, I managed, not without struggle, to actually push Dave’s roaring ass away from my face, which actually surprised him as he tripped over.

I coughed my way to freedom and took deep long breaths. The air in the room was still filthy but it felt like pure fresh air compared to the source, the depths of my friend’s ass who, in the meantime, actually stopped farting. I remained there, lying down, wondering how I could even survive those blasts.

Despite being disgusted, pre-cum leaked from the tip of my hard cock, so I guess this wasn’t beyond my limits after all.

As I kept trying to clean my nostrils by taking more deep breaths, I heard Dave, lying next to me just like before, slow clapping, as if he was some kind of villain of a heist movie being (falsely) impressed by the heroes.

I scolded him with an annoyed glare. “What the fuck are you doing now?”

“Not bad for a first day, huh?” he simply said, with a smirk. “You managed to lift me, that’s impressive.”

“Those were my survival instincts kicking in.” I remarked.

I lied down, exhausted, staring at the ceiling, Dave doing the same. I could once again hear the faint rock music coming from his phone on the desk: good, I was afraid today’s ass-thunders made me deaf.

“I wanna try again tomorrow.” I admitted. “No farts though.” I quickly added.

He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

We remained silent for a few moments, as I tried to ignore the massive boner I still had.

“Look at us.” Dave said. “Covered in sweat, panting. It’s like we just had sex.” he joked.

“You wish.” I replied.

A few more moments of silence, a silence that Dave broke one last time by doing a deft leg-lift to rip a quick, loud, wet toot.

“Told ya it’s leg day.”

The End

#eproctophilia #fart kink #fart story #malefarts #davefarts

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fizzy-fuzz · 6 months

Note

hello! I've been reading your SCP work and saw you add OM to your writing list.

Can I please get Lucifer with an adoptive teen reader? Sibling relationship please

AN: I wasn't sure what you wanted as far as like headcanons or oneshots go, So I just went with a short oneshot because that's what I'm most comfortable with writing. Hope you don't mind!

I took some creative liberties with the plot, since your request kinda left it open. I also left the age non-specific, except implying that the reader is a teenager... I may have gotten carried away, soft big brother Lucifer incoming.

TW: slight angst

Different yet the same... (Lucifer & Adoptive teen sibling reader)

Your shoes thud softly against the ground in the carpeted halls in the house of lamination. Your pace is slowed though you already have your destination in mind; Lucifer study. Your sure he's in there, he always is during the afternoon. Often doing paperwork assigned to him by diavolo that day.

This routine isn't unusual for you. The house gets too rambunctious, so you seek the tranquility and comfort of the eldests workspace.

It's the arguably quietest place in the house. with spells and enchants to make sure that the only thing heard within the space is the gently thrum of whatever cursed vinyl Lucifer happens to fancy that day.

Lucifer never seemed to care if you were there as long as you were quiet and didn't disrupt his work.

Yes, this isn't unusual for you... Yet today the circumstances for your visit are different.

The house isn't bustling. in fact, this is the most calm it's been in awhile: Mammon Is out gambling with the money he made from modeling, Levi is holed up in his room playing some new video game that just came out, Satan is out reading in a newly built library, Asmo is clubbing with Solomon, Beel is out at an all you can eat buffet, And belphie is napping in the planetarium.

You pause your thoughts when you make it to the grand mahogany door that holds Lucifer and his office behind it. Hand raising to knock on the door but falling short and stopping just before it makes contact.

Does he even want you in there? Maybe this whole time he hasn't, and is just too polite to tell you off.

Part of you realizes that that sentence sounds ridiculous. Lucifer never has a problem telling his siblings to leave him alone when he needs private time...

But you're not really his sibling, are you?

They're all so close to each other... They fought together, fell together, and survived together when devildom refused to accept them.

Your hand that was hovering just before the office door drops to your side, and you turn around the glance at the mirrors lining the hallway behind you. If you look hard enough, you can still picture the beautiful and pristine white of your wings.

.....

It was a few dumb decisions that got you banished from the celestial realm and made you fall from grace.

You were growing weary with the standards you had to constantly upkeep. The realm values excellence over anything, and they won't settle for any less. Angelic voices always ringing in your ears pushing you to be something you weren't; perfection.

It was that same weariness that blossomed into intrigue when you first heard the name 'Lucifer' be uttered. His name was always spoken with a hushed voice, as if he was some sort of deadly curse.

And when you begin poking around for more information about him you were quickly shut down...

Until you spoke to Simeon about it. Simeon had always been one of the most relaxed and understanding of all of the angels. And because he was so well liked and respected they let it slide.

So when you spoke to him about your curiosity, he was happy to divulge as much as he saw fit for your younger mind. Contrary to every other angel you talked to, he spoke about Lucifer with high regards. Often speaking about how kind and giving the morning star was, and still is, even if he doesn't always show it.

When you asked what happened to him he told you the truth. He fell from grace along with six other angels he was closest with. Though simeon told you he wasn't allowed to speak of why they fell from grace, he did however give you a key to access the vaults that held files on what you were looking for.

That's when you first began properly learning about the great celestial war.

It dazzled you're young mind, the thought of seven angels taking on the entirety of the celestial realm with such bravery. And although you weren't about to try and start a rebellion like Lucifer did, seeing him fight for what he thought was right encouraged you to begin declining the high expectations of the realm.

Everyday when you got free time, you would sneak back off to the vault to read more on the rebellion and war, while sneaking conversations with simeon in between.

It kept you content...

Until one day, you made the mistake of getting too comfortable and sloppy while sneaking off. Unfortunately, you were blissfully unaware of the fact that you had been spotted and were being followed the whole time.

It's safe to say the higher ups weren't pleased...

So they gave you two choses:

Stay and be held on trial for treason. Which who knows what would happen after you were inevitably found guilty.

Or be stripped of your grace and be banished to devildom...

You choose the latter...

So you fell...

And fell...

And fell some more...

Devildom was beautiful, and it's Prince was nothing short of gracious. A far cry from the pompous aristocrats of the celestial realm, and of course diavolo knew just where to stick you. Where else if not with the demon brothers? Considering your circumstance, you should get along swimmingly.

Yeah, no... it's safe to say they were not happy about the idea of a freshly fallen angel teenager stuck living with them. For the first couple of months they either avoided you like the plague, or were confrontational.

All but one... Lucifer.

He wasn't peachy with you, but he held an air of understanding with your situation. He allowed you to express your woes, and offered a guiding hand when you seemed stuck.

Eventually all of the brothers warmed up to you, and came to view you as their eighth sibling. Though you always had a hard time feeling like you fit...

.....

"I can see you standing out there, Y/n. Come in." Lucifer startles you out of your thoughts as he calls out to you from behind the door.

You grip the door handle and open the heavy wooden door. It squeaks on it's hinges, the sound normally doesn't bug you, but today it makes your anxiety spike. You look up from the ground and see Lucifer at his desk writing away at some paperwork, he raises his none occupied hand and gestures for you to have a seat on the leather chair off to the side in the room.

As you scuttle over and plant yourself in the chair, you fidget nervously with your hands. The room is quiet, too quiet. The only thing heard is the scratching of Lucifers quill against the paper.

"I take it you'd like to talk? You seem tense" Though he acknowledges you verbally, he continues to work on his paperwork. Despite this you know you have his full attention.

"I guess?.. I'm really not sure." you shuffle around in your seat to get comfortable. He hums in thought.

Maybe you should've just gone to your room and dealt with your feelings yourself... He seems so busy, he shouldn't have to deal with your self-consciousness.

"tell me what's on your mind, Y/n..."

His voice has that certain tone to it, the closest it gets to 'soft'. You feel your self doubt fade away slightly... So you decide to spill your guts.

"I guess I've just been feeling a little out of place lately? Like I don't really fit in anywhere in the family..." Your voice falls to a hesitant whisper at the end.

Lucifers writing halts but he doesn't look at you yet. It feels like he already knows where this conversation is going. A light sigh falls from his mouth.

"elaborate."

You pause and think about how you want to respond. the topic is uncomfortable for you to approach, but it weighs heavy on your shoulders, so it's better to talk about it then let yourself stew...

"it's just... the seven of you are so close, you've been together for your entire life. You guys didn't even know me when I was still in the celestial realm, I was kinda just placed here after i fell from grace because there was nowhere else for me to go..." You pause for a moment and look to the ground, avoiding Lucifers gaze. "I feel like I don't belong..."

There's a silence that falls over the room as you finish your rant, only thing heard is your shuddery breathing and the scuff of Lucifers chair being pushed away from his desk. You hear here the sound of his dress shoes approach you, but you don't look up from the ground. Scared you'll meet his gaze and be ment with a lecture about how you need to be more secure with yourself.

You fidget a bit more when he stops in front of you, his shoes now in your vision as you continue to avoid looking at him properly. Two gloved fingers swoop into your view as well when he gently places them under your chin, tilting your head up carefully.

When you meet his gaze, your surprised to see his eyes half lidded with sympathy and understanding. His other hand coming up to gently run through your hair to clear it from you face, before falling to rest your shoulder in a grounding grip.

You both stay silent for a short while, before Lucifer speaks.

"how long have you felt like this?" His words are simple, but encourage you to delve deeper into your feelings.

"For awhile... I have a hard time feeling like I'm even slightly related to you guys sometimes" to your surprised, a light laugh falls from Lucifers mouth at this.

"none of us are related by blood, When has that ever made a difference?"

"that's not what I mean... Not biologically, more like our experiences feel so different, and you're all so close in age... I don't know" Lucifers gaze grows serious as he addresses you with a firm tone.

"Y/n, I know we don't always express it, but we all cherish you greatly. We may not share the same experiences, but we're still cut from the same cloth... We're family, Y/n" he pauses for a moment and sighs. "Why didn't you come to me if this was bothering you? We could've spoken about it sooner"

You gently push his hand away and he backs up to allow you to stand. Once standing, you hug your arms close to your body and shift your weight around nervously.

"it shouldn't be your job to deal with my emotions, you already have enough to deal with-" he quickly cuts you off.

"as your eldest brother it is my job to help you through things like this, my duties come second always. Y/n, you can always rely on me."

his firm response leaves no room for argument, and with his unusual sentiment, a dam breaks in you.

You take a few steps towards him and hug him close, sniffling lightly.

"I love you, Lucifer..."

His hands hover for a second, before gently pulling you closer.

"I love you too, Y/n"

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