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#I'll be either away all day or on here more than normal
dawntheduckrb · 6 months
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I don't know if this is legal or biblical but it exists and is in my local Walmart
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maiko-san · 4 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )
<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>
Relationship: Fluff
Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader
Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.
A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.
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A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.
These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.
"I guess that's all of it"
"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"
You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.
You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.
"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"
" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"
You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.
The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.
"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"
It was the third time this week.
Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.
"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.
You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.
You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.
To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.
So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.
For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.
You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.
You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.
It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.
You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.
Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.
"How's your day at the play care today?"
"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"
"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"
"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"
"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"
"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"
"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"
"I—"
"Ha! Gotcha!"
You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.
Just don't get himself dirty all the time.
"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."
"And why is that?"
"They said you stole their work...."
"....."
Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.
It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.
You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.
You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.
"It is our fault wasn't it?"
"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"
You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.
You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.
You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.
You did the same thing with his ears and chests.
Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.
You treat them like a real person.
Like they used to be.
Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....
You care for him, so he will do the same to you.
You are his angel, after all....
"Alright, everything's done!"
You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.
"Is this for me, angel?"
"Yeah, it suits you well"
Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.
I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!
"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"
"You're welcome, bud"
A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!
I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.
Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️
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immajustvibehere · 8 months
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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
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In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
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inkdrinkerworld · 8 months
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hotch and reader who've had a fight so he's testy and short fused with the team all day till david/emily call you to tell you to come over to the bau and sort it out so he's not so difficult to work with
in hindsight, it was a stupid to be upset with each other over. you're both adults, so there's no way that between work and chores that you'd both see each other as much as a normal couple.
you and aaron were really just missing each other and couldn't get enough of each other to the point where you both came resentful at the ringing phones and being stolen away for work.
you weren't ready to let the fight be and neither was aaron. you just didn't know how bad he was taking it till your phone was pinging at work.
there's a million texts from his co-workers begging you to make up so he isn't so snappy and mean. even rossi texted.
with a sigh, you say, "i'm going for lunch," and grab your bag and head to the precinct.
when you get there, you see the chaos your husband has caused. there's more people than necessary in the bullpen, desks are crowded and people are walking around with hurried steps.
"what's going on?" you ask spencer as you spot him in the kitchenette.
"hotch is making everyone redo case reports, apparently it's not up to par." he's stirring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. "i think he just needs to feel busy so he doesn't mull over your falling out."
spencer had gotten like a brother over the years you and aaron had been together and he's a damn good profiler so you're not surprised him or anyone else is aware of your fight.
"i'll go talk to him," spencer pats your shoulder, a marker of good luck as you weave through bodies to get to your husband's office.
you knock and his gruff, 'come in' isn't the least bit shocking. fights with him can consume him because he feels it's all his fault and that if something bad is happening it's because of him.
"aaron?" you mumble, skin clammy as you step into the hot, dark office.
"y/n, what are you doing here?" not honey. so he's still pretty pissed off.
"david said you weren't having the best day ever, so i thought we'd better sort the fight out." you say plainly as you sit on the lip of his desk.
you watch aaron's eyebrows crease to meet each other and then smooth out a couple times. "you know it's not your fault that we don't see each other as much as we'd like to, don't you?" you ask and watch your husband's shoulders sag.
"it's not yours either," he says softly, ashamed that he had implied that to you when you'd suggested having a day with just you two. "work is just work."
you nod, your hands reaching for his chair and rolling it closer to you. "it's hard, we both work odd hours, and that's fine." you reassure him, hands lost in his glossy hair. "but we have days off to take, even if it's just one."
aaron nods, letting his forehead fall to your sternum with a sigh. "i'm not mad at you for having a job like this, one that you love. i'd never ask you to leave it either, we just need to get better at managing our time together." you whisper the words as you continue playing with his hair.
"i'd never ask you to leave your either. i'm sorry everything got so convoluted." he says and you smile, kissing the crown of his head.
"i'm sorry too, my love." aaron raises his head and presses his lips to your jaw. "though, i think you need to apologise to david and the rest of the team. they've got agents from every department in the bullpen."
aaron sighs, his arms wrapping around your waist. "let them be busy for a little while longer, haven't had quiet time with my wife in a little while."
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nonotnolan · 27 days
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Jock Cock, Part 1
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Adam Johnson, next year's star quarterback and this year's bane of my existence, looked up at me with his baby blue eyes. If he was trying to look small and unintimidating, it would have worked better without carrying 200+ pounds of muscle on a six foot frame.
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Well, if he wanted to be melodramatic, two could play that game. "You know full well why I called you here, Adam." I thumped the stack of papers on my desk for emphasis. "You've been failing ECON 105 all semester, but suddenly you can score an 83% on the final exam? It's enough to get you D- in this class. It's not a perfect score, but it's still enough for you to avoid academic probation."
His face flashed with a brief moment of irritation before setting back into his normal, casual stupor. "Well, I wasn't studying before, and now I did. It's not like I scored all that great... sir."
"We both know that you don't know what 'sustainability' means, Adam. You tried to fly under the radar, you didn't cheat your way into a 100%... but it's still cheating. We both know that academic misconduct is a serious crime." I tried my best to sound stern and disappointed, but it was hard to be angry at a face this sexy.
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Adam just laughed at me. "And if you could prove it, you wouldn't be calling me into a private meeting, would you?" He leaned back into a shit-eating grin, displaying his dazzling white teeth. This asshole had the upper hand, and he knew it.
"I checked every single essay!" I said, pounding the stack of papers once again. "Every essay, in every single TA's session of this class. You didn't plagiarize... but we both know this isn't your style of writing. And we watched you like a hawk during the exam itself, so you didn't cheat that way, either."
Adam leaned close into my face. "Professor Michaels has no idea that you called me in here, does he? You're just a Teaching Assistant on a power trip, and it's all because you can't stand knowing how I did it." He was right, and I hated him for it. Worse, when he stood this close to me, I could smell the musk of his body.
"Tell you what," he added, pulling off his tank top to reveal a set of firm abs. "You let me get away with this... sign off on my scores, whatever you need to do... and I'll let you live out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies." He struck a pose, showing off both his rippling muscles and his hairy pits. "We both know that you'll never get jock cock any other way. Come on, Teach. You want this."
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Was I really that easy to read? "I-- I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Look, if you're going to stick to your lie about studying, then you can just leave. I don't... there's no need to insult my moral character. You're a student, Adam."
He responded by leaning in close to me, and placing his hand on top of my bulge. "Your body betrays you," he whispered, letting his fingers massage my inner thigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not your student. Adam and I swapped bodies so that I could take all of his final exams."
"I... yes, well..." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it would explain a lot if it were true, somehow. It seemed much more likely than a desirable athlete like Adam coming onto me, at the very least.
"Be that as it may," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it away before my cock started leaking though my slacks, "that body still belongs to one of my students. And I still have meetings to attend today, so if we're done here..."
Adam, or the stranger in Adam's body, just laughed at me. "You're the one who wanted to have this meeting, remember? But that's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. But here's the thing-- once you submit grades at end of day, Adam's not your student anymore." He started typing something on his phone. "And honestly, I expected this from you. You're so uptight. Good thing you gave everyone your cell phone number on the syllabus at the start of the year. So if you change your mind... now you can have Adam's number, and a bonus pic from me."
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"I know you don't know the real me, but trust me Kevin-- I've wanted to plow that uptight hole of your for months. And in this body, I've actually got a shot at it." The stranger slapped my ass before I could react, and swaggered out of the room. Whoever was inside of Adam's body, they knew my first name.
I looked at the retreating wall of shoulder muscles, and down at the teasing bathroom selfie the stranger sent to me. God help me, I was only human. And he was right-- how else was I going to get jock cock? He wasn't a student, not really, and that's what mattered. "You win. Tonight at 8pm, my place. Bring lube."
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vox more than anything fic ending with fluffy makeup sex is all i need :,))) LET ME HOLD THAT TV MAN!!!
I didn't end up adding the spice because it didn't flow naturally with how this came out. I do headcanon that Vox would 100% try to initiate spicy times during a makeup because he wouldn't know how to handle the emotional vulnerability in any other way. Homeboy hasn't exactly had any healthy fight aftermaths. Hope yall are ready for the fluffy pain <3
Tag List: @luzzbuzz
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More Than Anything Part 3 [Vox x Reader]
Part 1
Part 2
Part 2.5 (Vox POV)
Things at the Vee's Tower seemed relatively normal when you stepped into the lobby. It felt a little weird if anything. When Vox was upset, it could shut down the entire tower for days on end if it was something more serious. You didn't hear the hum of the overbearing generators that would keep things running during his fits and your worry only grew as you stepped into the elevator. You swallowed down your anxiety as you scanned your badge that would let you onto the elite floor where the penthouses of the Vee's were at the top.
Did something happen to Vox? Was he not here for some reason? Where would he go? Did he... just not care?
Anxiety swirled in your mind as the elevator doors slid open. You saw Velvette on the couch scrolling through her phone and the young overlord perked up when she saw you.
"Bout fucking time," she groaned as she pocketed her phone and got off the couch. "Do you have any idea what a pain in the ass it's been to babysit the man-child?" Velvette poked at your chest and you couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes as she frowned at you. "You owe me for this."
Ninety percent of hell didn't see past Velvette's tough-as-nails exterior and if it hadn't been for the time you'd spent with the Vee's due to your relationship with Vox, you doubt you would have ever seen through the cracks in her demeanor either. For all her bark and bite, you could tell she cared for Vox and Valentino deeply. She wouldn't look so damn exhausted right now if she didn't.
"I'll make it up to you," you sigh in relief as you drop your bag to the side. "Where is he?"
To say you were less than pleased when you saw the door held shut by the smokey chains of Valentino's magic was an understatement. You were pissed. While you still felt a semblance of gratitude for the other Vee's keeping Vox from doing anything rash, you were going to tear them both a new one for keeping him caged like a fucking animal.
Velvette lifted her hands and got the cue to leave as you triggered your demon form and slashed Valentino's magic to wispy shreds. You yanked open the door and your eyes searched the room for Vox maniacally. There we no cameras and the windows had been covered with some sort of blockers. It looked like the Vee's had the sense to leave him with some comfort items and non-tech-involved things to pass the time, but the only technology you saw was some ancient Nokia-looking phone lying by his foot that he wouldn't be able to use to teleport out of the room.
"Vox?" You breathed as you saw him curled up in a corner with his screen buried against his knees.
His head whipped up and he breathed your name, only to curse as his body glitched hard from the prolonged stress.
"Y̶o̸u̴ ̸c̶a̷m̴e̸ ̸b̶a̸c̸k̴?̷," he asks, and your heart aches as you watch him flinch at the static in his voice.
"Oh hun, come here," you sigh as you get down on your knees and pull his screen towards you. You didn't know much about tech, but his personal repair sinner had shown you some of the basics to take care of Vox if anything ever got out of hand.
You reached around the back of his head and did a hard reset for him, holding him close to you as he went limp against your chest. When Vox powered back up, he flinched hard and pushed himself away from you, backing up with wide eyes and frantic breathing before he processed it was you who had been holding him and not Valentino.
"Woah! Easy," you gasp, not expecting the sudden movement. You look over him and instantly regret leaving him for as long as you had. "What... What happened?"
Vox's heart was pounding rapidly in his chest as flashes of Valentino's manipulative words flitted through his mind. The promises of affection if he crawled back. The venom in his voice as he told Vox you'd never love him again. The back and forth between gentle lies and cold hard truths. The one time he almost, almost caved into Valentino's whims.
With a shaky breath, Vox stomped down on as much of his weakness as he could and turned away from you. "It's not important."
"Like hell, it's not," you frowned as you reached toward him, only to pause as he flinched at the tone in your voice.
It was obvious there was a whole new can of worms to handle and most likely a moth to strangle. But you steady yourself and take a deep breath, deciding to take things one step at a time.
"I'm sorry for leaving," you start slowly as you sit properly on the floor with Vox. "I was scared and angry and processing everything. I needed space. But I should have at least texted you back or checked in. I didn't..." your voice wavers. "I didn't think that..."
"It's fine," Vox sighed. "I get it. What I don't get is why you're here. Why did you come back?"
"I was always going to come back," you say as you reach towards him slowly. Your heart ached to know he had genuinely started to believe you'd just abandon him, but given the pieces of the unsettling image of what happened while you were gone, you understood where it was coming from.
Vox looks at you and hesitates before he leans into your touch and lets you cup the side of his face. "I was angry and hurt and scared," you admit. "I needed time to process my feelings. I didn't want to say something I'd regret."
You shake your head and chuckle, "I'd say I should have known better, but this is our first big fight now that I think about it. It's uncharted territory for us both."
Vox was silent as he slowly reached up and took your hand. He let out a shaky breath as he looked down. "I've... any connection I've had with someone. It's never... survived this sort of thing. Once shit hits the fan, that tends to be the end of it. I thought... I thought you were gone for good."
"I won't let you think that ever again," you say as you cup the other side of his face with your free hand. You make him look at you, but you're gentle. "We'll talk about this. I'm in this for the long run, you dorky TV man."
"But I tricked you," Vox shook. His face flickered between heartbreak and frustration. "I stole your soul. You have no reason to fucking t̵͍͌r̸̰̈u̵͉̍s̸̯͛ẗ̶̫ me."
"I love you," you say without hesitation. Vox's eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to retort, but you shake your head and stop him. "You did a bad thing. You did break my trust. But I know why you did it. Loving you doesn't mean I'll forgive you every time you cross a major boundary, but it does mean that I will do whatever it takes to worth through the bullshit together," you say softly.
Your thumb swipes over Vox's screen as you feel him tremble in your hold. "You're worth that effort to me, Vox."
"Why?" Vox asked as his eyes darted over your face as if the answer to his confusion would be found there. He didn't understand. How could you come back? How could you want to forgive him? How could you be here in front of him, looking like he was the one who hung the stars in the sky rather than the one who drew souls to their doom like a siren song on a screen?
You kiss his forehead and pull him close as he shakes harder in your arms. "W̸̻͝h̴͖̒y̵̞̍?̵̝̕"
His claws dig into the back of your shirt as he hangs onto you like a lifeline. "I̵ ̷d̴o̶n̵'̶t̶.̴.̶.̵," Vox growls in frustration at the emotion that sticks in his throat. "I can't... I don't d̷e̴s̶e̷r̷v̴e̷ this."
"Because loving you has never been about what either of us deserves," you sigh as you kiss his head. "It's because despite everything, I know I could never replace you. So I'm willing to put in the work if you are."
A broken sob ripped itself from Vox's chest unwillingly as he held you tighter. Your heart broke, knowing this very well could be the first time anyone had actually tried to stick around after any of his fuck-ups. You held him close, rubbing his back as he worked through his emotions. You were there for him as he glitched and let out an anguished scream as everything he'd been holding in for so long finally poured out.
You don't know how long it is before he finally calms down. He looks up at you and you know his eyes would be bloodshot from the breakdown if that was how his screen functioned. He let out a deep breath and you smiled softly as he cupped your cheek.
"This isn't the first time I've thought you didn't belong down here," Vox admitted. His voice was hoarse from exhaustion and the pure angst session some cruel fucker decided would be entertaining to put him through. If he ever found that bitch, he'd wrangle her neck.
You laugh as you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes as you finally see the familiar spark in his eyes for the first time since you'd come back. "Nah, you know heaven wouldn't know the first thing about how to put up with my shit."
Vox barked out a tired laugh. "Damn right, they wouldn't. You're a menace."
"Yeah," you giggle as you press a kiss to his cheek. "But I'm your menace."
Vox reached up, his fingers tangling softly in your hair as he brought you in for a proper kiss. "Yeah. You're my menace. And I love you, more than anything."
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
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I'll Make It Through The Winter If It Kills Me
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putellas!reader stops taking her antidepressants because she doesn't think she needs them anymore, keeps it from alexia, but she eventually finds out. super angsty, but fluff follows. warnings: mentions of self harm.
-----
You weren't stupid; you didn't think you knew better than your doctor. You were just so tired of everything feeling so... dull. Feeling so empty, even when things were good. Even when they were bad. It felt like your emotions were in sight, but just out of reach. Like you could graze them with your fingertips, the sharp sting of anger, the thrill of excitement. No matter what you did, though, you couldn’t get your hands around them. You couldn’t make the feelings stay. You weren’t sure you’d know what normal felt like if it hit you across the face, and no matter what you told your doctor, she kept encouraging you to give the meds a longer chance. 
It wasn’t really intentional on your part, to stop taking them. It just…happened. You missed one day. And then another. And then it had been a week, and even though your head ached, and you had a bit of a hard time sleeping, you felt… better. Not great, not really even good, but better. More like yourself. 
That lasted another week, before suddenly, you were back where you started. The joy you’d rediscovered in living faded away, plunging you back into a cave of misery. It wasn’t numbed now, either. It was encapsulating, suffocating. You weren’t okay, not at all. You didn’t know what to do, though. You didn’t want to go back on the medication, and you knew you wouldn’t survive if you kept going like this. You told yourself that you just had to let your body get used to the lack of the medication, and once it adjusted, you’d feel normal again. You’d been high, and now you were low, and the next step had to be a middle ground. The trouble was keeping yourself going until you got there, as well as keeping your sister off your back.
You hadn’t meant to start hurting yourself again, either. It just happened, it was just the coping mechanism you turned to. It was just supposed to be temporary, until everything balanced out and you felt normal again. It kept going, though, you kept going. Until you had to be careful about changing in the locker room, and you couldn’t go a day without doing it. It was the only thing that made you feel, the only thing that made it better. You just needed time. That was it. Just time. 
-----
“Wake up pequeña, I am not going to come in here again.” Alexia said with a sigh, poking her head in your door to find you still very asleep in bed. You both knew she’d be back in 5 minutes, ready to drag you out by your ankles, but you grumbled a response and sat up. You’d only gotten to sleep a few hours ago; sleep had evaded you, even as you felt more exhausted than you’d ever been in your life. It was just an adjustment, you, told yourself. Everything would even out. 
“If I come in there and you’re still asleep, so help me,” Alexia shouted from the hall, before throwing your door open rather aggressively. You turned to look at her blankly, wrapped up in your duvet, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your sister paused, taking a closer look at your face. 
“Do you feel okay? Are you getting sick?” She asked, entering the room and pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. You shook her off, discarding the duvet behind you and moving with as much energy as you could muster over to your dresser. 
“No, just sleepy.” You answered shortly, and Alexia narrowed her eyes at you. 
“You look sick.” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest in a rather intimidating manner. 
“Thank you.” You replied sarcastically. “Now get out, you’re going to make me late.” 
Alexia scoffed indignantly, but walked to the door regardless. “I’M going to make you late. Me. You lay in bed till the last minute, and it’s MY fault.” She mumbled, shutting the door behind her a little harder than necessary. 
She wasn’t really that bothered, but she did dramatically complain about you to Olga once she reached the kitchen. Olga, however, didn’t quite share her exasperation with you and your inability to get up on time. Instead, she saw this as cause for concern: you hadn’t been this hard to wake up since before. When things were bad, and they didn’t know. Looking back, the signs were obvious, and Olga wasn’t about to miss them again. Or let her rather emotionally oblivious girlfriend do so either. 
“Ale. She’s been sleeping a lot recently, no?” Olga asked quietly, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand to get her attention. 
Alexia looked up from the coffee she was making for you, turning to the brunette in confusion. “I haven’t noticed. She’s hard to wake up sometimes, that’s all.” 
Olga restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Sometimes, she wondered if Alexia really was oblivious, or if she was just in denial. 
“Not like this. The last time she slept this much, she wasn’t doing well, remember?” 
Alexia turned back to your coffee, stirring absentmindedly, lost in thought. 
“You think she’s having a hard time?” She asked finally. 
Olga shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s been acting a little off recently. It could be nothing though.”
“But it could be something?” Alexia replied. She was never so aware of her shortcomings as a sister than when Olga saw something she didn’t. That was the good thing about being with someone who was so different from her, though. Olga was there to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks with you, a role she’d taken on without a second thought when you moved in.
Olga didn’t have a chance to reply, because you made your way into the kitchen, reaching instantly for the coffee Alexia was making, one you knew was for you. Ale always got up a bit early to make her and Olga coffee, climbing back into bed and drinking it there. 
Alexia handed you the coffee silently, and if you noticed that her eyes lingered on you longer than normal, you didn’t say anything about it. 
-----
It wasn’t accidental that Alexia had the two of you sharing a room over the next away trip. Ever since her conversation with Olga, she’d been keeping a closer eye on you, and she wasn’t loving what she was seeing. Normally, she’d pawn you off on one of your younger teammates over away games, needing time with her friends, and knowing you needed time with yours. Now, though, her overprotective instincts were kicking in and she didn’t trust anyone but herself to keep an eye on you. 
Alexia noticed that you put on a good show, but when people weren’t looking… you looked so desperately sad that your sister longed to drag you away from the group by your ear and pry whatever the problem was out of you. She didn’t, though. Olga had given her a harsh warning before leaving, as did Alba, that you wouldn’t respond well to being cornered, to being forced to talk. You needed to come to her. So while Alexia kept you very close, she made an effort to remind you that she was there, whatever you needed. 
The first real, tangible, issue that Alexia figured out was that you weren’t sleeping. She’d passed out before you, as expected, but when she stirred a couple hours later to the sound of you sniffling quietly from your bed, she was immediately wide awake. 
You were so tired. Nothing you were trying was working, you just couldn’t sleep. It felt pathetic to be crying, but you were exhausted, you had a match tomorrow, and you just wanted your brain to turn off, even if it was only for a bit. You were trying to keep the volume down, though, because Alexia was famously a light sleeper, and her bed was only a few feet from yours. 
Your efforts proved unsuccessful when Alexia sat up in her bed, flicking the light on. She squinted over at you, finding you curled up on your side, furiously wiping at the tears on your face, horrified at being caught. 
You were expecting 20 questions from your sister. She liked to fix things, and this situation would definitely be something that worried her. Alexia surprised you though. 
Even though there were 20 questions on the tip of her tongue, she remembered both her girlfriend and her other sister’s warnings not to push you. Instead of pestering you like she wanted, she flicked the light back off, sliding out of her bed and gently nudging you over until she could slide onto the edge of yours. 
“Ale, what-?” 
“Shh.” Alexia whispered, scooching closer and cuddling up to you like she used to do when you were little, and wanted nothing more than her affection. If Alexia was feeling particularly nice, she’d let you curl up against her while the family watched a movie, or while she finished her homework. “You can’t sleep?” 
You wondered how she knew. Sometimes, Alexia could be completely dense when it came to your feelings. Other times, though, she was incredibly perceptive.  “No.” 
Your sister’s presence next to you, though, was already helping, and you felt your eyes drooping as you rested your head against her chest. 
“Do you want me to sing you a song?” Alexia teased. 
You appreciated that she wasn’t forcing a conversation now, more than you could articulate. 
“No, I think my ears bleeding would keep me up more.” You replied, laughing quietly when your sister huffed indignantly, shoving you away from her, before very quickly pulling you back into her arms.
“You like my singing, I’m a good singer.” She retorted, even as she tucked you back under her chin. “Really, nena, how can I help?” 
“Stop talking.” You murmured groggily, cuddling in closer to your sister. Alexia smiled against your head, but stopped talking, rather proud of herself for solving this problem for you, even if it was just temporarily. Even if it was just a symptom of a much bigger problem. 
You slept that night, without waking up, for the first time in a while. You tried not to let yourself think about the fact that if Alexia fixed this problem, she might be able to help you, just in general, if only you’d talk to her. 
-----
Alexia hadn’t meant to snoop. She’d done you a favor, picking up your new prescription, and she was just putting it on your nightstand. Was it possible that she opened the drawer and peeked at your old bottle? Maybe. She was glad she did it, though. Because she found it full. And everything suddenly made a lot more sense. 
-----
"Pequeña?"
"Yeah?"
"Why is this full?" Alexia asked calmly, holding up the little pill bottle and giving it a shake.
"That's- that's my new bottle." You replied, looking away from her accusatory stare.
Alexia shook her head. "No, this is your new bottle. I picked it up for you today." She held up a little bag from the pharmacy, and your stomach sank. Your sister would not like this, not at all. She wouldn't like you doing something so unhealthy, and she wouldn't like you lying about it. There was nothing you could say, she'd caught you.
"Nena, I asked you a question." Strict Alexia was making an appearance, and you kept your eyes locked on the ground in front of you. "Hey. Don't shut down on me. What's going on?" She walked closer, arms crossed over her chest.
"I stopped taking them." You said finally, looking up in time to see your sister sigh heavily, and run a hand over her suddenly very fatigued face.
"Why?"
"I just did." You told her.
"That's not good enough. This is why you've been so anxious recently? So depressed?"
You shrugged noncommittally. Alexia was silent for a minute, before her expression changed, face tightened. You knew what was coming before she asked.
"Roll up your shorts." It's given as a command, not as a request, and you backed up on instinct. "Nena,"
"No. I'm an adult, Alexia. I can make my own decisions."
Alexia regarded you carefully, her eyebrows pinched with concern. "Roll up your shorts, please. I won't ask again."
You hated when Alexia got like this. You knew she wasn't really as angry with you as she seemed, she was worried. It just felt so much like you were in trouble. Maybe because you knew you were doing something you shouldn't be. Alexia's worry always manifested as frustration, anger. Maybe because for her, she was angry with herself, for not seeing a problem sooner.
"Alexia, I said no." You turned away from her, stomping towards your room.
"Nena, come back." Alexia demanded, going after you when you didn't respond. She reached your door just as you shut it and locked it, and Alexia felt a spike of panic run through her. Your behavior over the past few weeks was beginning to make more sense and, honestly, she didn't know what headspace you were in, how deeply the lack of the medication was affecting you. If you were back to doing this, it could be bad. Alexia knew she wasn't the expert in helping you with this, but she did know that, right now, she was not comfortable with a locked door in between the two of you.
"Nena, open the door." She fiddled with the knob, even as it wouldn't budge. "I'm being serious, open the door. Now."
You weren't really hearing her. You were thinking about how disappointed she must be in you. She'd been horrified to find out that you'd been doing this to yourself the first time, almost a year ago now. She'd yelled, and you'd run out of the house, all the way to Mapi's. You'd sat on the terrace with Ingrid, talking about everything and nothing, while Mapi gave your sister a piece of her mind. You were sick, she'd told the blonde. You needed support. You weren't doing it for attention. Alexia needed to do better.
And she had. She'd apologized for yelling. She'd gone with you to every therapy appointment for two months, knowing how nervous they made you. She sat outside the room, answering emails or looking at her phone, just in case you needed her. She supported you, wholeheartedly, when you took a few weeks off from the team to focus on your mental health, as you got your medication figured out. You weren't good at communicating your needs to your sister, and she wasn't good at reading your mind, but somehow, it worked.
Repetitive pounding on the door broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked towards the door, half expecting to see your sister's fist emerging through the wood.
"Nena, open. Now, por favor." Alexia begged.
Your anger with yourself only grew. Your sister sounded close to tears and it was all your fault. All your fault. Shakily, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the door, unlocking it. Alexia practically fell into the room, head swiveling frantically as she looked for you. Your eyes dropped to the ground again, and you looked so small, so very shattered.
Alexia knocked the wind out of you a little with the force of her hug, squishing you into her arms and holding you tight against her chest. "You can't do that, you can't lock the door. Not right now, not when I don't know what's going on with you. Please, pequeña, I won't make you talk to me, just don't lock the door." She was pleading with you, and you'd never heard your normally very calm and collected sister so panicked. 
Maybe it was the pleading that got to you, or maybe you were just so tired of pretending to be okay. Either way, words you never thought you’d say out loud were spilling from your mouth before you could stop them. 
“I’m scared, Ale. I don’t have control anymore, I thought I did, but I don’t, and I’m scared. I’m so tired, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Please help me, I need you to help me,” you sobbed, the admission feeling both terrifying and relieving all at once. At least the responsibility wasn’t on you anymore. Alexia would take care of you, take care of this. 
“Okay, okay, nena. It’s all going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll get you help, we’ll get you whatever you need. Whatever it takes. I love you so much, pequeña, we’ll get you better, I promise.” 
Alexia kept you wrapped up tight in her arms for a while, and it only reassured you more. As long as she had you, nothing would happen. She wouldn’t let anything happen. While your sister was around, you would be safe. Even if she was keeping you safe from yourself, she’d do it, no matter what. 
-----
me: you need to stop making everything have a part 2. just make a longer one shot. 
also me: let me know what you want to see in part 2 🙂🙂
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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months
Text
15.07
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Choi San x (f)Reader
Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?
Genre: PURE FLUFF
Warnings: NONE
Word Count: 2.1K
Est. Read Time: 10 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING
@edenesth version: [12.58]PM
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"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.
Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.
"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."
Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"
"No, why?"
"Do you like cats?"
"Yeah, why?"
He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.
The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.
"Can I put the litter here?"
"All your windows are locked right?"
"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."
"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."
"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"
He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.'  Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.
"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.
Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.
She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.
"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "
"I'm taking her to the vet."
"She's shivering."
"Okay, my car isn't working!"
'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."
"They say she has a fever, some bug?"
"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."
"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."
"San plz reply soon."
"San I'm scared."
Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.
"San!"
His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.
"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."
It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”
“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”
After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.
Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."
Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.
Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"  
"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"
"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.
"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."
"What an analogy."  she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."
"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.
“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”
Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”
“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”
“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”
Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.
“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.
“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”
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Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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spookysteddie · 4 months
Text
Studio Sessions
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18+ MINORS DNI
Modern!rockstar!Eddie x influencer!fem!reader
Series masterlist here
cw: voice recording during sex, reader gets insecure, studio times, fluff, flirting, pet names, oral (fem! receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, dirty talk, reader gets what she wants.
wc: 3.6k
a/n: this got away from me... I hope you all enjoy it! Feel free to send in requests for these two if you have them!! ALSO: this is the last post for them I'll have with a tag list... it's so much work and not that I dont love y'all ( I do) it's just hard. I hope y'all still love me and understand ❤️.
...
Is it normal to miss someone you just met? 
Is it normal to go on a few dates, sleep over their house like every night and still miss them immensely when they're gone? 
You and Eddie have spent every moment together since that first real date. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend yet? No. But you really don’t like to think too far into that one because then you’ll spiral, which is no good for anyone.
It didn’t matter too much. You knew it didn’t matter and you knew that he wasn’t fucking anyone else because he was either in your bed at night, or you were in his. I mean he could be fucking other people during the day, but you doubted it. 
Back to the missing him part. It feels weird to miss someone who is a few feet in front of you, who you can literally see. But here you are, Eddie standing on the other side of some glass gathering things, and you miss him. You can’t help your thoughts from wandering back to if he feels the same way. But also, why would he? Men don’t act like that, right?  
“Sweetheart, you ready?” Eddie's voice cuts through the fog of uncertainty. 
You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. You were in the studio with Corroded Coffin, getting to watch their recording process. Eddie is right, there is something missing from a few of those songs, but you’re unsure if your voice is what is missing. You’re willing to try, though, still honored every agreed to this.
Eddie sets you up, putting headphones on you so you can hear the music. “Okay, sweet angel, don’t get too close to the mic because it can cause the sound to get a little weird. Got it?” 
“I got it.” You grin up at him. He kisses you sweetly, your body growing hot. 
He leaves, going to stand outside the booth with the rest of the band and his producer. He gives you a thumbs up, smile lighting up his face. He’s been more than excited that you agreed to do this. 
You hear a count before the music starts, you quickly look down at the lyrics sheet in front of you. When you get the cue you start, turning on the most bedroom voice you can manage, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you speak. “Mine, be mine. Love me. Never let me go.” 
You smirk at him as he squirms, his friends hitting his arm. You aren’t sure why it makes you happy to watch him squirm but it does. You let out a laugh, real and loud, instead of saying your next lines. 
The producer perks up, cutting off the music, “oh my god, that was amazing! I need more of those.” 
You feel your face get warm, a small and shy giggle leaving your chest. You don’t hear Eddie enter the room, but you can feel him. His energy calling to yours. You hum, not caring that they’re still recording you. 
He pulls your headphones off, “great job, sweetheart.” 
“Thank you, baby.” You lean in kissing his lips. It’s quick, just enough to get a taste of him. “This is a lot of fun. I like this!” 
“You sounded very beautiful.” 
You giggle, looking up at him grinning, “I was just talking.” 
He kisses your forehead and whispers to you, “no. You were using that voice you use when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.” 
You freeze, looking up at him. He’s looking at you with that sexy smirk on his face, making your stomach flip and clit pulse. God, he’s so hot when he’s doing absolutely nothing, dressed in black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, dressing comfortably for the long day in the studio. You could kiss him, right now. 
No, scratch that, you could fuck him right now. You would if there weren’t six other people looking at you. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you whisper, winking up at him. 
He kisses you quickly, leaving you wanting more as he pulls away. “Ready for the next one?” 
… 
You’ve been here for 8 hours. 
Between adding little snippets of your voice, the band recording the rest of their songs, adding background vocals and putting in instruments, it takes a while. And you are tired. So tired in fact that during their last two songs, you fell asleep on the little couch in the studio. 
You know this because you’re woken up by a soft voice and a hand brushing your hair out of your face. 
“Sweet angel? Hey, baby.” You know it’s Eddie's voice based on the softness and sweetness he reserves only for you. 
You stretch, groaning just a little as your joints crack, “m’sorry for falling asleep. Didn’t mean to.” Your voice sounds small and a little crocky with sleep. You cover your mouth as a small yawn slips out, “s’cuse me. I’m sorry.” 
He laughs, kissing your free hand, “don’t apologize. We had a long night and early morning. Could’ve gone back to my place and slept?”
You shake your head, “mm-mm. Gotta be supportive. It sounds great and your fans will love it.” 
His grins widens, lips meeting your knuckles. He looks tired too and you sort of regret keeping him up most of the night. Well, actually, it was a mutual thing. You’d tried getting him to go to bed but he just ‘couldn’t get enough’ and then when you tried again, while he was still inside you and growing soft, but the second he shifted, you were pushing him on his back and riding him. See, mutual. 
“I’m glad you think it’s great, sweet girl. But you won’t upset me if you go home.” 
Home. The word clangs through you and makes your head spin. It shouldn’t because he definitely didn’t mean anything behind it. It was his home so of course he’s called it just ‘home’ and you are for sure overthinking it. 
You shake your head, both to clear it and to answer him, “no. I can wait. How much longer?” 
“Like another fifteen minutes? I just need to listen to that last take and the boys need to add some background stuff. Then we can go.” His thumb is rubbing along your knuckles, his touch soft even if his hands are calloused. 
“I’ll wait.” 
And you do, this time staying awake. You post some instagram stories, making extra sure to mute it so you don’t spill a single note. Everyone loves the little insights to your time with Eddie, his fans enjoying seeing a different side to him. Of course, your parents still aren’t happy. 
You haven’t spoken to them since that phone call. You don’t need their opinions and Eddie has yet to be a bad person when it came to you. 
In fact, he’s good at planning dates and making sure no one follows. Blocking the paparazzi from getting unflattering photos of you. Sending you with security if needed. He cares. He cares more than anyone else ever has. 
It feels nice to date someone who doesn’t see you as a ticket to their fifteen minutes of fame. Who didn’t look at you as a way to further their own career. Sure, Eddie was more famous than you were, something the press loves to point out. But in some way you were on the same level. It was more than refreshing. 
“Ready?” 
You look up at his brown eyes and nod, letting him take your hand to help you up, your coat already in his hands. 
Once you both are ready to brave the slightly chilly weather, he takes your hand and leads you out. “There’s going to be people out here okay? Just so you're prepared.” 
You grin, looking over at him, “I am prepared, Eddie. I know the cost of dat- um, being seen with you.” 
If he catches your almost slip up, he doesn’t say anything. He just smirks, squeezing your hand as he opens the doors to the outside. Cameras flash and people scream, you’re practically blinded by the flashing bulbs. It doesn’t last long though, Eddie helping you into the car before getting in himself and closing the door, the sounds of screams muffled slightly.
“God, I love them but the screaming kills my ears,” he presses his finger to his ear, blocking it slightly before releasing it. 
You giggle, raising a brow, “aren’t you used to it? You hardly wear your ears on stage.” 
It was true. Eddie had this habit of taking out the ears he wears on stage, usually used to help keep beat as most artists can’t hear the music coming from the speakers. 
He shrugs, “ya aren’t wrong but I feel like I’m far enough away that the sound doesn’t hurt that bad? I really should keep my ears in so I don’t like lose my hearin’ before I’m 32.”
“Should hear it from the crowd,” you tilt your head slightly. “I had to get little ear plugs after the first time I saw you guys live. My ears rang for a few days after and I was yelling cause I couldn’t hear.” 
His eyes get wide, “that sounds awful. I should get ya some custom ears so you can hear what we’re doing on stage.” 
That makes your heart flutter a little, the fact that he wants you to hear all they do. “I don’t think I could deal with the metronome ticking.” He looks at you, “how do you know that happens?” 
You playfully roll your eyes, scrolling through your phone till you find a post you liked a little bit ago. “This. It’s a video of what Taylor Swift’s sound like inside. It was very interesting.” 
He watches it, three times actually. And then he giggles and scrolls, some familiar music starts to play and you already know what he’s looking at. Your face flames as you move to take your phone back. Unfortunately, he’s faster, moving so you can’t grab it from where you sit. 
He scrolls again, “you like these edits of me?” His tone is teasing and you feel like you’re going to die. He was never supposed to know you like thrist traps of him, most of them to his own songs. 
“E-Eddie give it back,” you plead with him. 
But he shakes his head, scrolling again and again and again. “These edits are actually really good. M’impressed. I also think it’s cute you like them.”  
You finally reach your phone, tugging it from his hands, “it’s rude to go through someone's phone, Eddie.” 
He fake pouts, “awww, are you embarrassed baby?” 
You don’t say anything as he coos at you because you are embarrassed that he saw those. But fuck, he looked so fucking hot in those edits. They make you feel things deep inside you, things you’ve used your vibrator to take care of. 
He leans forward, his hand reaching out and cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. I think it’s kind of hot you have those liked.” 
He pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, soft kiss. That feeling comes back, the one with a voice that questions why he hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. It’s been some time and you spend a lot of it together. You don’t want to push him, to make him look at you as needy or too much or annoying. That’s the last thing you want. You’ve heard it enough, from boyfriends, from your parents, from the people in your comment section. And the last thing you wanted was to hear it from Eddie. 
He breaks the kiss, his eyes scanning your face. Fuck he knows. 
“Are you okay?” He asks you with worry in his eyes. It kind of makes your chest hurt to worry him. 
“Oh yeah! I’m fine. Just… tired.” 
But, of course, he sees right through it, “no. You’re in your head. Come on… spill it.” 
You can’t. You want to express to him how you feel, to ask him to not waste your time. If he isn’t interested in you then you need him to tell you that so you can move on. But you know he is interested, you just sat and recorded bits for their album for fucks sake! He calls you sweet names and listens to what you have to say. He fucks you in a way you’ve never been before. He’s in tune to you and your needs, so the idea he doesn’t want you is absurd. 
But… “nothing. I just have that photo shoot coming up and I’m just nervous. It could make or break my career.” 
Half truth. You were nervous about the campaign. It could make or break your career if you didn’t do a good job or if people didn’t like it. 
He looks like he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push you further. You wish he would. 
… 
Eddie’s lips kiss along your chest, nipping a sucking sweet marks into the skin there. Marking you. Owning you. His hand moving up to tease your breast while his mouth sucks on the neglected one. 
His phone is set up beside you, the little red dot indicating he’s recording. It definitely catches the gasp you make as he works your chest, but he just feels so good you don’t think about it. 
He asked you six times before hitting record if you were okay with this, him voice recording. And you were, truly. He wanted your moans for his music but wanted some variety in there. So, he’s recording the entire round of sex. You’d be a dirty little liar if you said it didn’t turn you on. The idea that he’ll have this on his phone and in his music. Your moans immortalized on tape? It was hot as fuck. 
Eddie swaps sides, eyes meeting yours as he licks and sucks and bites. It hits you right at your center. He was hot as fuck, actually. Looking slightly feral as he kisses down your body. You can’t take your eyes off of his when he settles between your legs, putting them over his shoulders to give him more room. 
 “God you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he runs a finger through your slick, making you moan. “So pretty. Was so hot watchin’ you today.” 
“But I-” he licks up your slit, cutting you off what you were about to say. 
He sucks on your clit, making your back arch. It was insane to you how well he knew your body. He’s learned every dip, every curve of your skin. He’s learned exactly how to drag deep moans from you with his mouth, tongue and cock. Memorized them. He did it quickly too. 
“B-but I didn’t really do anything.” He slips two fingers inside you, stretching you out. “God! Fuck that feels good.” 
He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and curls his fingers. Eddie knows exactly what he’s doing, turning your brain off with every thrust of his fingers.
“J-just like that, baby! Oh god, don’t stop.” You can feel the orgasm building deep in your belly, your whole body growing hot as you squeeze his fingers. “M-more. Eddie, I need more.” 
He adds a finger, the burn from the stretch feeling incredible. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, just a babbling mess. This was typical when it came to the way Eddie worked your body. He’s the only one who’s worked you like this. 
Your orgasm hits you, mouth dropping open as your back arches on the bed, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!” 
You ride it out with Eddie’s help, his fingers slowing and his mouth coming off your clit with a soft pop. And when he finally removes his fingers, sucking them between his lips and moaning, you feel empty. You need him to fuck you, to feel him inside you. 
“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just can’t get enough,” his voice drops a few octaves and you swear your heart stutters for a moment. 
“Please…” you whine. 
It hits you then that he is fully clothed and you are as naked as the day you were born. The dynamic is hotter than it should be, you might need to talk to your therapist about that. Or not. That’s an issue for another day. 
He pulls off his shirt, stomach flexing with the movement, “please what, angel?” 
His hands pull at his belt, tugging it through the loops before meeting the same fate as his shirt on the floor. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth and you forget the English language for a moment. He pops the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down as he waits for your answer. 
You manage to find it, “please fuck me. I-I need it.” 
He slides his jeans and boxers down his legs, his hard cock bobbing free. You squirm, licking your lips while your eyes rake over him. You need him, need him in many more ways than just sexually. You need him as yours, need him to love you. You can see the life you’d have if he called you his. Your babies would be beautiful thats for fucking sure. 
You don’t really have time to think further on it because Eddie slides inside you, his lips meeting yours and swallowing your moans. He tastes like you, cigarettes and weed. An odd mix but you love it anyway. 
“Shit, pretty girl. This pussy feels amazing. S’like you were fuckin’ made for me.” 
Your heart pounds and you know he can feel it, you can feel his. “I-I was. I was m-made for you, Eddie. Made for you” You kind of don’t mean for it to come out, but it can easily be brushed off as heat of the moment dirty talk. 
But there is something in the way he’s fucking you right now, something different. It’s slower than it has been, sweeter. Like he wants to take his time here, like he wants to feel every inch of you. His eyes shine with lust and something else, something he blinks away before you can decipher it. You have a feeling you already know what it is, because you feel the same way. 
“Yeah? You think so?” He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Think we were supposed to end up here?” 
You’re going to die if he keeps talking like this. He’s actually going to kill you. More so because you do believe in the invisible string theory. Everyone can say you’re going too fast, but you think your string is attached to him. Everything about him screams it in confirmation.
“Y-yes. I do.” 
He kisses you soft and sweet, adjusting slightly to hit that sweet spot inside you. You gasp into his mouth, hands coming up to his cheeks to hold him there while you kiss him. Again, it’s all slow and sweet and filled with emotion. 
“Glad we’re on the same page, baby.” 
He fucks you just a little faster, hitting all your sweet spots and making the coil in your belly twist tighter. “I- oh my god, Eddie.” 
He laughs, not straying from your lips, “I love when you pray to me.” 
Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a deep moan falling from your lips as your velvet walls squeeze him. It makes your head spin and you kind of feel like you’re going to pass out from how good it feels. You don’t, of course. 
“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl coming for me. My pretty angel.” 
“Y-yours.” 
He nods, “mine.” 
Mine
Mine
Mine
Mine 
The word cycles through your head over and over, making you clench harder around him.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck fuck FUCK!” 
He spills inside you as he moans your name. It’s angelic when he does it and you’re gonna make him send the recording to you immediately so you can hear it again and again. He collapses on you, being careful to not crush you with his weight. 
“I s-swear on my life, you’re the best I’ve ever had.” 
You giggle, shaking your head, “i bet you say that to every girl you fuck.” 
He lifts his head, his face serious, “no. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever said that to.” 
You just stare at him, not knowing what to say.
“Did you mean what you said? About us being made for each other?” He asks it quietly, like he’s afraid of anyone hearing him. Anyone but you. 
You swallow the lump in your throat. You can do this, tell him how you feel. Right? “I-I did. We fit together so well. Don't ya think?” 
Now it’s his turn to swallow, “I do… I meant it too.” 
You aren’t sure where this is going, but you hope to whoever the fuck is listening that it’ll go your way. 
“You did? You haven’t known me that long.” 
He shrugs, “so? You spend every night here, or me at your place. You get to know someone pretty quickly that way.” He laughs a little, pushing some of your hair out of your face.
Ask me 
Ask me 
Ask me
“I would agree,” you say as you run your fingertips up his arm.
“Would you agree to stay forever if I asked you to?” 
You hold your breath and nod. He gives you a look that makes you squeak out a small “yes.” 
A huge grin breaks out across his face, bright white teeth showing, “then stay. With me and be mine. And I’ll be yours. No more wandering around lookin’ for each other.” 
You blink away the burn behind your eyes, you cannot cry at someone asking you to date them, “n-no more wandering.”
408 notes · View notes
whaledenwtf · 5 months
Note
Can I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin react to Karlach telling him that his gn crush likes him too but they're too shy to confess?
YES!!! I'm sorry this took so long, but its been in queue this whole time Love this idea!!
REQUEST HERE BG3 Masterlist
Headcannons: Astarion, Gale, Wyll and Halsin reacting to Karlach telling him that gn!reader likes them back but they are too shy
Warnings: None. This is just fluff and cuteness
I tried to write as much as possible but the way Halsin as a character is... I wrote it shorter considering he seeks you out in game, and wouldn't hesitate to do so in this case either. First time I write Wyll too, so I hope I gave his character justice 💞
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Astarion
He felt frustrated for the longest time. How can his flirting not get to you?
He's been trying so hard to get you under his thumb.
Gods why aren't you being seduced
He sees those little blushes and rapid heartbeat so he knows it affects you.
Admittedly, he started falling for you because you weren't jumping his bones.
This man is broken, but with you he feels mendable.
He begins to slow down with the flirting, but his gazes went from calculating to longing.
Its so embarrassing that Karlach speaks up
"When will you realize they like you? Aren't you supposed to have sharp senses? Some kind of vampire you are..." She tells him one day, while they were at camp.
He drops his dagger, almost stabbing his foot.
"I'll choose to ignore that last part. Repeat what you said." He asks her again.
"They. Like. You. Too." She told him, grinning. His eyes widen at the revelation.
"I couldn't wait anymore. I feel so much better now that I've gotten that out of my system. I hate keeping secrets." She turns around, speaking to no one in particular as she walks away.
He felt... elated. You like him back!
He considers what this means for his future.
On the one hand, you could be by his side. On the other, he feels this sense of worry. Between his undead nature, and your very much not undead nature, what will that mean for you both.
He cards a hand through his curls, sighing.
He might be getting ahead of himself! After all, you still don't know that he knows that you like him.
Maybe he should say something?
He ponders what to do for the rest of the day, distracted.
Gale
Oh gods, he was so nervous around you
He tried flirting, but the things he said were so embarrassing
He still can't believe he said he likes your musk
That one-liner haunts his dreams- well nightmares
He sees how easily you flirt back with Astarion and it makes him feel... insecure (much more than he currently is)
Everytime he tries to convey his adoration for you, he says something awkward and all you can do is blush
He thought you liked what he was saying, but you haven't responded to any of his adoration
Oh Mystra, what if you blush because you're embarrassed of him
He is trailing behind the group by a couple paces, clenching and unclenching his fists with a frown on his face
"What's the problem?" Karlach whispers into his ear.
He jumps in fear, snapping out of his sad thoughts.
"Oh, Karlach! Just pondering some things..." He can't help but look at your back longingly. Karlach hums, grinning.
"Do your problems involve a special leader of ours?" She says normally. The distance has grown enough between the two and the rest of your group, but it doesn't help Gale's anxieties.
"Keep your voice down! Please." He whisper shouts. Karlach raises her hands in the air, surrendering.
"I don't understand why you're so worried Gale, they like you too." His head snaps to Karlach, his eyes searching for any deceit in her words.
"I'm sorry?" Karlach furrows her brows.
"You're forgiven?" He shakes his head.
"I was asking you to repeat yourself." He says tiredly. Her eyebrows raise.
"Oh! Well, (Y/N) likes you too."
"And how do you know this?" Karlach rubs the back of her neck.
"A birdie told me."
"A birdie." He says, deadpanned.
"Fine. It was (Y/N)." She says quietly.
Truth! And from the source, no less!
Oh gods, he was elated! Maybe he should think of other things to say to you.
Karlach leaves him be as he goes back to pondering what he should say to you.
"Your musk reminds me of home" He thinks this one's good. Until he remembers he lives next to the ocean.
I don't think they would like to be compared to fish...
Back to square one
Wyll
He really tried, the poor thing
He compares you to the most wonderful of things
The sun, the moon, the warm summer air, the cool nights filled with music and soft spoken words
He himself said he'd like to take things slow, and he is.
He'd just appreciate knowing if you felt the same way.
Today you were all traversing the woods surrounding the Emerald Grove, trying to find answers to the worms inside your skulls.
He was walking alongside Karlach, a companionable silence between them.
"You know... there's been some romances in our group recently." His ears perk at her words.
"Oh really?" He couldn't help being curious. Romance is such a beautiful thing, especially in perilous times like these.
"Shadowheart and Lae'zel... Astarion and Halsin. There's also (Y/N)-" She cuts herself off, throwing her hand over her mouth to stop talking. His head snaps to her, looking at her.
"Our leader has found romance?" He tries to ask coolly, but he can't help but feel slightly hurt.
"Well- I mean... They have a crush on someone." Wyll's heart clenches at the thought. Was it Gale? Maybe it's Karlach-
"That's... good." Karlach bites her lip.
"They told me, and now I feel like a bad friend for spilling their secret..." He furrows his brows, thinking about who you may have a crush on. What if it was on Astarion? Or Halsin... He couldn't compete with all that muscle-
"At least I didn't say they had a crush on you-" Karlach says, trying to calm herself down. When she realizes what she said, she slaps her hand over her mouth again. Wyll's eyes widen.
"They do?" He feels hopeful, for the first time in a long time.
She nods, hand still covering her mouth.
Wyll looks around, making sure no one is listening, before whispering to Karlach.
"I like them too." She squeals into her hand, jumping up and down in excitement.
He walks around with a newfound confidence, and makes sure to stay close to you and talk.
He never realized how much you blushed when he spoke to you, and it was adorable.
Halsin
He tried to be so delicate with you since he knew he was.. a lot
He may be an animal to some extent but he saw how delicate you were
He'd call you his little flower, and you'd always blush
Your shy nature made him unsure if you liked him
He was confident, sometimes stupidly so, as evident from his scars
He really should have known about bear mating season
He spent most of time in camp pacing back and forth, thinking
Despite the Shadowcurse taking up most of his headspace, like Selune, you were a guiding light in his thoughts
He loved your laugh, the crinkles by your eyes, the face you make when you're pondering something.
He would always stare and watch you in amazement.
Apparently his affections were too noticeable, considering Karlach of all people came up to him.
"Gods, I can't believe I have to be a messenger" was the first thing he heard, with the crunch of her boots on fallen foliage.
She walks into his view and waves at him.
"Hello-"
"They like you too." She said before walking away.
His eyes widen at her, before he processes the words.
They... like him too
Nobody has ever seen the gargantuan elf run so quickly in their time together.
He picks you up and spins you around, laughing loudly.
"They didn't ask you to tell him, did they?" Shadowheart whispers to Karlach as they watch them spinning and laughing loudly.
"No. I was just tired of the longing looks." Karlach tells her, smiling at her skillful execution as Cupid.
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mariposa-writes · 1 year
Text
Stressed - Travis Kelce
Travis Kelce x reader
Summary: Travis just wants to help you.
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: Trying to put more Travis fics out there, since there are barely any. This is my first time ever posting on here, please let me know what you think. Thanks and have a great day!
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You sat at Travis's dining room table, looking over your stack of bills. It felt like they were never-ending, and it seemed like no mattered how much you worked there was never enough money.
You were constantly stressed, over everything. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd felt even slightly relaxed. The bills you received yesterday, were much higher than expected. Then you had to find time to work at your job while interning at KPMG, one of the top accounting firms. Not to mention you had 3 essays due soon along with multiple assignments. Plus Travis had some event he wanted you to attend, where you would officially be showing up as a couple.
You guys had decided to keep your relationship on the DL for the past year and managed to keep your relationship hidden from the public.
Travis placed a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten home. "Hey, it's just me." He chuckled, finding your reaction funny. You got up out of your chair, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Sorry," you mumbled before cleaning up the mess you'd created on his dining room table.
You quickly hid the bills under some of your notes, not wanting Travis to know you were struggling. You knew Travis all too well, knowing he would want to do anything he could to help you, whether that meant paying off your student debt or paying all of your bills. Hell, he'd probably even higher someone to write your essay's for you if you asked.
You were his world, and he was willing to do anything to make your life easier.
You quickly shoved the papers into your backpack, "I'll get started on dinner. I didn't realize what time it was." You said, getting ready to head into the kitchen.
"Hey," Travis grabbed your wrist, leading you back to him. "What's wrong?"
You blinked a few times, "Nothing, everything's fine. Just tired." You plastered a smile on your face, trying to be convincing. His eyes narrowed, clearly not believing you.
He sighed, deciding to let it go. "Why don't I cook tonight." He suggested, "You can go take a relaxing bath or something."
"Are you sure?" You asked knowing Travis didn't normally cook, "I can help if you want?"
"Babe, don't worry, I actually can cook, believe it or not." He laughed slightly.
"Not," you mumbled. You'd guys been together for a little over a year, and he hardly ever cooked. If you didn't feel like cooking, then you'd guys either order in, or he'd have his private chef come cook up a meal.
He slapped your butt as you turned to walk away, "I heard that." You laughed before rushing up the stairs to take a shower.
You loved Travis's shower, especially when he was with you. Sadly he was cooking dinner, so you had to enjoy the waterfall shower alone. At least you got to make the water scolding hot when you were alone, Travis always accused you of trying to burn your skin off with how hot you liked the water.
After your shower you changed into one of his shirts, that went to mid thigh on you and threw on some shorts you had in the dresser Travis had gotten for you 6 months ago.
You ventured down stairs with a smile on your face, feeling slightly relaxed after your shower. You could also smell the food from down stairs and it surprisingly smelled delicious.
Your smile quickly left your face when you turned the corner and saw Travis standing over your bag, with papers in hand. "What are you looking at?" You asked, despite already knowing what he was looking at.
Travis dropped the papers on the table, "Why didn't tell me you were struggling to pay your bills? Is this why you've been so distant lately?" His words were unexpected, you didn't think you'd been distant lately. You always tried to be in the present when you were with him.
You snatched the papers up and shoved them back into your bag. "You had no right to look through my stuff." You seethed. You couldn't believe he actually went in your bag and looked through your personal belongs.
"Well, I feel like I have to cause you'll barely talk to me anymore." Travis threw his hands up, frustrated at the situation.
You walked to the kitchen and grabbed your keys from the counter. You hated fighting and all you could think about was getting out of there before it got worse. "I have homework, I need to go home and finish it." You stated, walking out of his front door and to your car.
"Y/n" He called, following you. You ignored him, opening you car door and getting in. He caught the door before you could slam it shut. "Babe, don't leave please. We can talk about this."
"Trav," you pleaded. "I don't wanna fight right now. I just wanna go home."
"Bab-" you interrupted him by closing the door, starting your car and backing out of the driveway. He stood there watching you the whole time.
_____
The next day you had gotten up and went to your classes. Travis had been texting you all day, but you weren't responding.
You didn't know what to say, you felt like Travis had invaded your private information. Travis was an open book, he would tell you anything you asked. But you were more closed off.
You didn't trust people as easily as him. Maybe, because of the way you grew up. You learned to be independent form a young age and your mom always taught you to never trust anyone.
This caused some issues between you and Travis, even if you didn't realize. Like the time he bought you a car because, he didn't want you driving your old beater that had trouble starting up during the winter.
He worried that it would break down and you'd get stranded somewhere. Well, you're still driving that car and Travis has a spare car parked in his garage since he refused to return it.
You walked up to your apartment, feeling even more tired than normal. You hadn't been home all day, after your classes ended at 2 you went to the place you're interning at and worked until 6, then you went to your other job and worked till close.
It was now 11:15 and when you opened your door, you didn't expect to see Travis sitting on your bed. His head snapped up when the door opened and you walked through. "Trav, what-"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff. I don't wanna fight, I love you so much baby and it kills me when you're mad at me." He was now standing in front of you cupping your face with his hands. "I just want to make your life easier. You could've told me you were struggling. I would've helped you pay your bills."
You sighed, leaning into his hand. Travis loved physical contact, while you were the opposite. You hated hugging your friends, or anyone for that matter. But when it came to Travis you craved his touch. "That's why I didn't tell you. I knew you would want to pay for everything and fix it. I can handle it myself, I've been doing it for the past 22 years. "
"Just cause you have been doing it doesn't mean you still have too. I'm here now, you're not alone anymore." Tears started to well up in your eyes.
"But what happens when I become dependent on you, and you leave me" He tried to cut you off, to tell you that'd never happen but you kept going. "Trav, you have literal super models in your dm's. What if you wake up one day and realize you don't wanna be with me and you want to be with one of them." You were crying now, you'd never voiced these fears to Travis. He wiped every tear that fell away with his thumb. "Then I'm alone and I don't know how to function on my own anymore, because I'm so dependent on you."
"Babe, I'm never gonna leave you." He knew where these thoughts were coming from. "I'm not your father, I would never leave you because I thought I found something better."
"How do you know?"
"Because I already know that you're the best there is." He took your hand in his. "Babe, we fit together so well. You fit with my family so well. Jason and his family love you, my parents love you, and most importantly I love you. So I'm begging you to stop shutting me out. Turn to me when you need help."
"I love you too Kelce." He leaned down, his lips meeting yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, making you moan. You were certain that he was the best kisser in the world. This continued for a few minutes, you growing wetter by the minute.
"Move in with me." He said, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes widening, "and before you say no, just know that I've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't a split second decision."
Your mind told you no, but for once you decided to listen to your heart. "Yes." He smiled, before his lips meet yours again. He lead you over to your bed and you two had the best night of your life.
1K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 2 months
Text
Corruption Ch17
(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16
Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, cockwarming, creampie, breeding kink
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything felt like a daze. You had woken up sore, exhausted, weak and full. Your body felt strange, yet satisfied. Glancing at the time, you weren't even worried that you were late for work. It was Miguel's fault anyway.
"Mhm...Lyla," You whispered, your voice scratchy.
Rubbing your eyes, you whimpered as you needed water. Your voice hurt from all your moaning and crying from last night. Laying back on the bed, you snuggled into the blanket since you couldn't feel your legs.
"Miguel will return soon to tend to you." Lyla spoke, appearing before you.
Tend to you? Oh how sweet that sounded. Recalling the night, you groaned happily. Who would have thought Miguel had that side to him. A side that only you could see. It was almost animalistic. It truly felt like Miguel was trying to breed you.
"Mhm....Miggy."
--------
Miguel returned home early after a night of harassing the city. Taking his mask off, he let out a heavy sigh. This super-villain work was a lot more taxing than he thought. How you ever adapted to being a hero honestly impressed Miguel.
"Lyla, how is (Y/N)?" Miguel asked, making his way to the shower. Lyla appeared with a bright smile,
"She woke up a while ago, but fell back asleep. Her stats are still normal, but she is very low on energy."
"Order her favorite food. I'll wake her,"
Miguel took off his costume and hid it away. A soft chuckle escaping his throat as he thought of your reaction to this. If you ever did find out, then he would have to teach you a good lesson, but that was for another time.
Entering his room with a bottled water, Miguel took a moment to stare at your sleeping state. You looked so peaceful, so tempting. Taking the blanket off you, Miguel scoffed at his work. All of his bite marks and hickeys all over your body.
You truly were his.
Hissing lowly, Miguel felt himself getting hard by just looking at you. Last night was not enough. To think that he would succumb to these instincts so easily. Waking you slowly, Miguel had to give you time to rest before he could breed you again.
"Mhm....Miggy?" You whispered tiredly.
Shit. Miguel stroked your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. That little nickname you gave him sent shivers down his spine. Hearing you cry his name all night was something out of a dream. A twisted and fucked up dream.
"Here. You need to stay hydrated," Miguel grumbled, helping you drink the water.
"Thank you," You said with a soft yawn, slowly waking up. "Were you busy today? Sorry I slept in."
How cute, you were still thinking about helping him at work. Of course, Miguel was still going to have you work with him. You had to be watched every second of the day. That and he might go insane if you weren't there.
"It's fine. I didn't go in either,"
Miguel was too busy making a name for himself last night. The amount of bones he broke, the people he killed. People were going to fear the name Spider-Man overnight. To think, both as Kingpin and Spider-Man, Miguel was a menace to be reckon with.
"Really?" You gasped. Miguel resisted a chuckle, picking you up with ease,
"If you really want to work, I'll put you to it."
---------
You felt so dazed. Leaning against Miguel, you resisted a whine as Miguel kept you firm against his lap. You were exhausted. How did Miguel have so much stamina? Even after last night, Miguel gave you a good fuck in the shower and now he had you sitting on his cock.
"You need your energy, eat." Miguel huffed, taking a bite of his meal. You squirmed slightly,
"I-It's a little hard...w-when I'm like...this." You whimpered.
You had been working with Miguel for years. Never had you suspected Miguel to be so sex active. Reaching for you food, you shivered as you moved ever so slightly. Your body was sensitive from his rough sex in the shower.
"M-Miggy~"
Your body arched against his, whining against his cock. He was so deep inside you, keeping his previous cum inside your womb. You weren't able to think straight. Miguel's hands were holding your waist as his fingers started to rub your clit.
"Hah~ Ah~ M-Miguel...P-Please~" You begged, itching for him to move.
"Hm? Your body is going to weaken if you don't eat." Miguel said with a smirk, "Easier to have your body accept me and be breed."
You gasped lowly, shuddering and moaning from his touch. You bit your lower lip as Miguel pinned you against the couch, his thrusts slow and almost painful. After having you sit on his cock for a few minutes, you wanted to get ravished.
Miguel hand rested on your lower back, his thrusts slowly picking up. His hips slapping into yours, earning loud moans and whines from you. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes, unsure if you could handle this much pleasure.
"Your body has done well to adapt to me already. Your pussy is just welcoming my dick. Won't be long until you have my children. Are you ready for that, my dear?"
"Yesh~ Mhm~ Miggy~" You cried out.
Miguel chuckled as he pressed your head into the couch, pounding you with no remorse. His wicked laughter echoing throughout his house. Your moans and cries just begging for Miguel to keep you as his pet.
"Mhm~ M-Miggy~ I-I....Ah~ l-love you~" You cried out.
Miguel grunted as you confessed. He felt his vision blur for just a second as he felt his high approaching.
"(Y/N)" Miguel groaned, hurrying his pace, "Fuck..."
Releasing a heavy load inside you, Miguel panted heavily. The words almost slipped out of his mouth. Never. Never could he admit something so cheesy. Watching you tiredly catch your breathe, Miguel felt something in him stir.
"(Y/N), you are mine," He whispered, kissing your head before leaving to clean you up.
How could he admit something so weak? Love? Glancing at you as he grabbed a warm clothe, Miguel inhaled deeply. His emotions were strong for you. Love was the correct term for sure, but he did not want to admit something so...human.
"I need to finish my testing."
----------
You sat in Miguel's bed, watching the news as your body recovered. It had been a few days since you apparently now moved in with Miguel, not that you were complaining. Living with him felt like a dream. Not only did you work with Miguel, but you also got to move up in your relationship with him.
If only he wasn't so work obsessed. Lately, Miguel was working overnights too. He didn't want you coming along and made sure he gave you a reason to stay home. Honestly, you felt like you were losing your mind and falling into Miguel's palm.
"But I love him~" You cooed, drinking some tea.
"And now we head to the city where our reporters are talking with concerned citizens about this new Spider-Man character causing havoc in the city."
Your eyes widen as you placed your cup down. There was a Spider-Man? Gasping lowly, you went to reach for your phone. Miguel must have done it. He made himself into a super powered individual, but why didn't he tell you?
Right as you reached for your phone, you gasped as your hand was webbed to the bed frame.
"Thought I blocked all news channels," Miguel sighed, entering the room with his costume.
"Miguel?! When?"
"Shh,"
Miguel leaned down, removing his mask and brought you in for a deep kiss. His lips licked yours, forcing his tongue down your throat. Unable to resist, your body arched into his, moaning softly. You couldn't deny Miguel.
"That's my good girl. Why don't I give you an explanation tomorrow night? We can swing through the city together."
"Mhm," You hummed to the thought, feeling lost in a daze.
"Now, why don't you give me a proper welcome home."
----------
Miguel just chuckled lowly as he watched you. Not even a single argument came out. You were so obedient. It was so easily to turn you into his super hero pet. Rubbing your head as you worked, Miguel leaned back, inhaling sharply.
He could get used to this life.
People fearing him throughout the day, and you waiting for him at home. Smirking at the thought of tomorrow, Miguel was going to officially show the city who's in charge.
That there were no heroes left to save them.
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moonlight-prose · 1 year
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IT WILL COME BACK
a/n: this man won the poll and in all honesty, i couldn't stop myself from writing for tommy miller. have you seen him? he's fine as fuck. which resulted in this. in my head i will just make this a small collection of drabbles compiled on a masterlist. so after this i'll reblog prompts you can request more from that tie into this fic. since i have my joel series going i won't make this a full series (yet). either way i hope you enjoy.
summary: mornings in the kitchen with him made life worthwhile.
word count: 4.1k+
pairing: pre-outbreak tommy miller x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, oral (f receiving), floor sex, p in v sex (not really though), spitting, tommy miller being a little shit, fluff, romance.
Sunlight attempted to break through your curtains; the sheer white blocking anything but the warmth. You felt it creep along the bed, encasing you in a bundle of blankets that trapped the sun’s glow. Shifting to your side, you expected to feel him there. Feel the broad expanse of his chest as you reached out with still closed eyes.
You found nothing but the cold sheets instead.
The first thing that ran through your mind as your eyes fluttered open, was that he must have woken up early enough to head out to work. It would explain why you never heard him leave. While he may share your bed at night, this wasn’t his home. Not entirely.
The drawer you emptied for him only held a flannel or two—mainly for you to use—but nothing essential remained. At night his touch, his body, was yours but once morning came, they were nothing but a lingering memory that stuck to the edges of your mind. If it weren’t for his scent that still remained on the blankets—you would have thought you imagined him.
With a sigh, you sat up. The sheets pooled at your waist, exposing your bare chest. It’s not like you needed him here in the morning, but waking up alone always felt hollow without him. Tommy turned your house into a space you actually found solace in, but the serenity never truly lasted. So, you were left with no other choice but to swallow the pain like it was medicine.
When in fact it was poisoning you slowly; Tommy simply remained your antidote.
Searching through the drawer, you pulled out one of his flannels. More than happy to be wrapped up in his scent.
Eventually, the time would come when you would have to go about your day, and the memory of last night would shift into becoming just that. A memory. But for now you basked in the afterglow that still stuck to your skin.
The urge to tell Tommy what you were feeling would have normally come out sooner or later. But this feeling, this aching loneliness that ate away at the inside of your body, was something you kept to yourself. If he knew how him leaving each morning affected you, he would let the guilt fester in his heart. Because that was his weakness at the end of the day. It wasn’t you, but the feeling that his actions caused you to hurt.
You found that it was better to keep him in the dark, than to burden him with something that would ultimately change the trajectory of your relationship. It was easier this way. Or at least that was a belief you continued to tell yourself. You loved him, this he knew, and he loved you all the same. But the future was a topic that terrified you enough to keep it hidden until things could one day be different.
The scent of coffee filled the bedroom. You figured the timer on the machine must have gone off, starting the brew. That became your alarm most days, the aroma of a good cup of coffee usually pulled you out of bed faster than an alarm.
Tightening the flannel around your bare body, you made your way downstairs, instantly regretting forgetting your slippers as your feet connected with the cold hardwood floors. You wouldn’t be down here long, ready to grab a cup of coffee and crawl back into the safety of your blankets. Yet the sound of a crooning southern voice playing softly in the background and someone humming along, stopped you in the doorway of the kitchen.
Tommy stood at the stove, attempting to flip what you assume was an omelet at one point. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his expression. The furrow of his eyebrows as he concentrated, his lips pursed in frustration when things didn’t exactly go his way.
“Good morning,” you said, drawing his attention away from the catastrophe on the stove.
He turned, his chest and stomach on display. You felt heat creep up your face at the sight of the dark hickeys that trailed down into his jeans. Last night was still a slight blur, but you could vividly recall leaving those—marking him as yours. A wild need to possess him took you over as he was sprawled out beneath your body. Other times you would feel the slight tinge of embarrassment creep into your mind, but you knew he loved it.
“You’re up,” he responded, his eyes dragging down the expanse of your bare legs. His flannel only covered so much—leaving you open and free for him to admire. “I was making you breakfast.” His tongue swept along his bottom lip. You wondered if you left a slight bruise from where you had sucked it into your mouth.
“Smells good.”
He smiled, turning back to flip off the burner. “Smells like burnt shit, but thanks for lying.”
Moving around the table, you slid your hands up his back, lips pressing to his shoulder and suddenly…the ache disappeared. Retreating to the far reaches of your mind, giving you the peace you needed. Sighing against his skin, you felt him shiver beneath your touch. You know his reaction by heart now. Could practically see the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the pleasure of your touch grounding him.
Tommy would forever be a man with a mission. Never once able to sit still long enough to not fly away, but you were the gravity holding him down. You were the reason he hadn’t left this town yet. Though he left every morning, there still remained the guarantee that no matter what, he’d return once the sun went down. Falling into your bed with whispered promises he would eventually break, and a love that was sweeter than honey.
“I thought you had work this morning,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands shifting to rest over yours.
“Called Joel while you were asleep. Told him I’d be coming late.”
You hummed, hand dragging slowly down his stomach. “I bet he wasn’t happy about that.”
The soft huff of laughter he let out made your heart beat just a bit quicker. But it was the soft groan that rumbled in his chest as your hand dipped into his jeans, that had a fresh wave of slick pooling out of you. He was already hard, his cock heavy in your hand as you slowly palmed him. The realization made you throb, the heady dizziness of lust rushing over you. Wrapping your hand around his length, you felt him twitch, dragging another grunt from him.
If you had the time, you’d drop to your knees for him there in the kitchen. Make him see stars the way he did to you last night. But Joel was an impatient man when it came to Tommy. You knew he only had barely an hour tops and you wanted him inside you before the time ran out.
He turned quickly, forcing you to let go of him. The small sound of protest you let out, cut off by his lips, his hand wrapping gently around your throat to keep you there, tongue delving into your mouth with ease. Tommy knew what made you melt into his body, knew how to drag out all manner of sounds from you, and you gave in willingly. You were his to mold. His to have.
“Baby,” he breathed, his fingers digging into your ass, dragging you closer. “I can feel you soakin’ my jeans.”
A wet moan was pressed to his jaw. Your hips rolled over his denim clad thigh that was slotted between your legs. You knew you were leaving a wet spot on the fabric—that he’d have to wear these jeans to work probably—but you couldn’t care. Not when you felt the fabric catch on your clit, sending a shock through your body.
“Want you,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “I need you inside me.”
He moaned, hips grinding against yours. You felt him pull down his flannel, cupping your breast in his palm, thumb running over your peaked nipple, before he dipped down and took it into his mouth. Gasping, your head fell back, hips rolling over his leg even faster as the pleasure continued to mount in your body. Heat spilling into every part of you, burning you from the inside out.
“Tommy.”
He groaned as you pulled at his curls, dragging his lips back to yours. If there was a place you’d want to spend forever with, it was here with him. Wrapped up in your small safe haven of just each other. No one else existed when you were with Tommy. He consumed you, yet you gave into it without question. There was no one else for you and he knew it.
Dragging the piece of fabric off your body, his calloused palms ran along your skin, sending a shiver through your body at his light touch. You whimpered, barely able to open your eyes due to the dizziness clouding your mind. He smiled at your reaction, eyes dark with lust and yet somehow within the brown, you saw the light he had within. The light you ached for.
There he was, pouring it into you with each kiss pressed to your skin. He promised you forever without saying it and you wanted so badly for him to keep it this time.
“Take me upstairs baby,” you breathed into his mouth, hand feeling his stomach clench as you pressed your palm to his hot skin.
He shook his head. “Can’t do that ma’am.”
“What?” Pulling back, you felt him smile against your throat, his teeth sinking into your skin a moment later. “W-why?” you rasped, fingers curling around his hair in an effort to grasp onto something stable.
“Want to eat you,” he mumbled against you, teeth closing around your earlobe and tugging. “And I eat my meals in the kitchen.”
If it were any other time and his fingers weren’t inching towards your aching clit, you would have laughed. Told him he was an idiot in the most loving voice you could muster—your emotions bubbling over with a single look from him. But before you could get the word out, his fingers circled your clit, causing you to sag into his hold. You buried your head into his neck, your cry muffled against his skin as he built the rapidly growing pressure in your stomach.
“You gonna come for me honey?” You nodded, hips rolling over his thigh faster in an attempt to get there, to feel the hot bliss wash over your skin. “I know you want to.”
“Tommy,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulder. “Please.”
He groaned, fingers digging down to spread you, your slick practically dripping down his hand. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg. Alright honey, I got you.”
You keened when he pressed you down harder on his thigh, guiding you through the small stunted thrusts. Vaguely you were aware of how much time was passing, but the worry that he’d leave soon was washed from your mind the second he pinched your clit between his fingers. You sobbed into his neck, eyes rolling back as the dam finally broke, your body going taut—pleasure flooding you. It practically spilled out of you, overwhelming every part of your being, and Tommy kept going.
He pushed and pulled your hips, dragging you along his thigh and smearing your cum along the fabric until they were good and ruined. The pleasure continued to build, burning so hot inside you that you could barely see straight. If you weren’t careful you wouldn’t be able to find a way back to yourself, but maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to ruin you so perfectly, you’d never be the same after him.
Although who were you kidding. There’d never be anything after Tommy.
“Oh god oh god,” you chanted, your withering moan being swallowed by his lips colliding with yours.
Spit trailed down your chin as he pulled away. The two of you combined; you expected him to wipe it away. Only he smeared it across your cheek, his dark eyes following his thumb as it dragged along your skin.
“On the floor,” he said, his voice gruff and thick with lust.
Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to deny him. Your mind had settled into that sweet spot of numbness that allowed him to maneuver your body in any way he pleased. Without realizing it, you found yourself spread on the kitchen floor, his flannel now parted to reveal the expanse of your naked body. A sight that Tommy was indulging himself in.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your waist, fingers stroking the side of your breast. “And all fuckin’ mine.”
Your body jolted, a shaky breath leaving you as he dropped down your body. Lips kissing and teeth biting along your hips—the dichotomy of pleasure and pain turning the molten burn into a raging fire. If there’s one thing you could expect with Tommy it was this. The softness that came with his touch.
He made you fall in love with his laughs, his jokes, but he owned you with his lips—his hands that spread you open, revealing you to his eyes.
“Baby,” you sighed as he pulled your legs up and over his shoulders, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“Yeah honey?”
The small word brought a smile to your lips. “Love you.”
You watched his eyes light up, his lips parting into a smile so big you felt it in your chest. There it was. The reason Tommy could call your heart his. You met him unexpectedly and before you knew it…he had you with that smile alone. He was the one you could call home, the one you saw yourself spending forever with. If only you knew that Tommy felt the exact same way—that the small little box tucked away in his jacket pocket was burning a hole right through his heart at this very moment.
“I love you so damn much,” he said, placing a kiss on your inner thigh.
The clock that hung on the kitchen wall taunted you, telling you that eventually your time with him would be up. That he’d get up, go to work, and leave nothing but the pleasurable ache between your thighs and sore bites up and down your skin. You wanted to capture this moment in your hands, to hold it close when he left. But all you could do was remain in it—savor his touch, his lingering love that burned you slowly, sensually.
The first lick of his tongue through your pussy sent a jolt up your body. You gasped, hips canting up slightly to meet his mouth as he moaned into you. Tommy was insatiable when it came to you, this became clear early on in your relationship. What you didn’t know was how enamored he was with your taste. How he craved you constantly. You learned quickly that if you didn’t cut him off, Tommy would spend hours between your thighs.
His lips attached to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and causing your head to fall back against the floor with a soft thud. Sparks littered up your spine, a broken sob of his name echoing off the kitchen walls. You were thankful the floor was so cold, because you were currently overheated, your body desperate for some balance to the madness.
“F-fuck,” you gasped, eyes falling shut, hand digging into his unruly curls. “You’re so good. I’m–fuck Tommy.” Your words broke off into a whine, his tongue pressing against your entrance.
He lost himself, the taste of you becoming an addiction he couldn’t get rid of, but at the end of the day…he wouldn’t want to. His nails scraped along your thighs as he moaned into your pussy, his hips grinding into the floor to appease the need he felt growing. Licking into you, he watched your mouth drop open in a silent sob, your legs shaking with each flick of his tongue along your clit. You wouldn’t last long, he knew this. 
Except he was adamant to remain here with you, unwilling to leave until he felt you gush into his mouth.
Lifting his head, he heard your broken whines of protest echo in the air. The small beg to have him keep going caused his cock to throb painfully in his jeans. You were beautiful like this. Incoherent with pleasure and body covered with a sheen of sweat that made you glow in the early morning sunlight. He grinned, licking at his bottom lip, resembling a starved man desperate for another taste of his meal.
“I know, I know,” he murmured, shifting up swiftly to press his lips against yours. Sharing your taste as he licked deeply into your mouth. “My pretty baby.”
“I want you inside me,” you begged, hips bucking up to grind against his. “Please Tommy, need you to fill me—” He cut you off with a sharp gasp, his fingers sliding through your spit slicked pussy.
“‘M not done honey.”
The beg was on the tip of your tongue, another plea to hopefully convince him of what you both wanted. Him spitting into your pussy lewdly cut you off. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue spreading his spit up to your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. The plea died in your throat—an incoherent cry of his name overtaking as his fingers curled into you, finding the spot along your walls without trying.
Tommy knew your body well enough to notice the signs. The way your legs trembled, how your walls clamped down around his fingers. You were right on the edge and he wanted to see you fly off. Moaning against your pussy one more time, he scraped his teeth gently along your clit, fingers rubbing against your g-spot in quick movements. The pleasure once again built, mind growing hazy with it as he continued to push you until you were right there.
Glancing down, you caught sight of him thrusting his hips against the floor, desperate to get himself there and that did it. You snapped, brokenly sobbing his name as your hips grinded against his mouth. He let you use him, doing his best to continue stimulating you, the wet sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy now echoing through the room.
Pleasure filled you, burning its way through your body until you could do nothing but silently scream. You tried to catch your breath, but it was stuck—lodged in your chest—forcing you to take in gasps of air. All the way through, Tommy continued to lick and suck at your clit, grunting with each thrust of his hips. He was aching for you, nearly on the edge but unable to fully finish.
“Taste so fuckin’ good honey,” he mumbled drunkenly into your pussy, his eyes shut and mind in a state of delirium. “Shit—” The button of jeans knocked against the floor, his forehead falling to rest on your hip.
“Tommy,” you breathed, fingers curling around his arm and trying to tug him up your body. But not before he kissed above your clit, licking one last time into you.
His hand slapped against the floor above your head, tongue pushing your cum into your mouth and sending a shiver through your body. Even as your shaky hands dipped into his jeans, pulling him out, he still asked to keep tasting you. That’s how things worked in his mind. Seeing you cum was worth more to him than getting off himself.
“Want you to cum,” you mumbled into his mouth, tilting your hips up and notching his cock at your entrance.
“Fuck honey.” He gasped, as you started to fuck yourself on the very tip of his cock, his hand moving down to keep himself steady. “You want me to fill you up?”
You nodded, whining his name against his cheek. “Need it baby.”
Pumping himself in quick strokes, he felt his balls draw up—the tightening in his abdomen nearly causing him to double over. It wouldn’t take him long at all; his release already having built as he ate you out. The feeling of your hand moving to cup his balls did him in. With a hoarse shout he felt something break inside of himself, your walls clamping down around his cock as he finally pushed himself into your pussy.
You sighed at the warm feeling of his cum spurting along your walls, filling you until it dripped down and smeared along your thighs. But nothing compared to the sight of Tommy lost in his own bliss. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows pulling tight as a flush of red took over his face and chest. It would take him a while to come back to you, his mind buzzing from having cum so hard.
With a contented sigh, he pressed the rest of his weight on you. “I’m definitely not making it now,” he mumbled, smiling against your chest.
“I don’t need Joel banging on my front door,” you replied, shoving lightly at his shoulder.
He laughed, teeth sinking into the top of your breast, his cock twitching inside of you. “I’ll call him and tell him…”
“Hey sorry I can’t come in today. Got too busy fucking my girlfriend on the kitchen floor.”
“Perfect.”
“Tommy!”
His head raised, smile pulling so wide you could see the slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll say it in a nicer way.”
“You’ll tell him nothing at all.” You cupped his cheek, lips sliding against his softly. “You will get up, wash your jeans, get another cup of coffee, and get out of here before we incur the wrath of the other Miller.”
He sighed into your mouth. “I don’t want to go.”
Your heart twisted in your chest, the reminder of time once again filling you with a dread you could never escape. Neither of you wanted to part, too wrapped up in what could be. But eventually you would have to open your eyes and see what this was. Just two people who loved each other too much to give this their all. A pattern that would never stop.
“I don’t want you to go,” you admitted, finally letting that painful ache be seen by him.
“Then I won’t—”
“You have to.”
Tommy’s eyes searched yours, trying to find something in him he could fight for. Something that would assure him of that single question still residing on the tip of his tongue. He wanted forever with you. Wanted a house together, a dog or cat, the life that he watched his parents once have. He wanted you.
Before he could stop himself, his mouth was moving.
“I want to marry you.”
Your eyes went wide, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Silence passed between you for a brief moment, the shock now being replaced with a sinking feeling. He wouldn’t be saying this if it were a different scenario. In fact you were certain that he wouldn’t even go near this topic on any other day.
“This is just the heat of the moment talking, Tommy,” you said, in an attempt to save yourself from the pain.
His eyes narrowed. “No it’s not.”
“You’re still inside me! You shouldn’t be saying this unless you’re sure that—” His hips grinding into yours cut you off as you gasped.
“You want me down on one knee I’ll do that honey. Want me to give you romance and dinner and everything in between? I’ll do it. But you’ve got to know I’m more serious now than I have ever been.”
“Tomm—”
“Before you can continue your argument—which I’ll let ya—let me go get the ring.”
Your jaw snapped shut, breath catching in your chest at the sight of his grin. “You…you have a ring?”
“Yes honey. I do.”
“Y–You’re serious?”
He nodded, his thumb brushing the top of your cheek. “I want forever with you. If you’ll have me.”
If you listened hard enough, you would have been able to hear your heart burst. The ache now vanished the longer you looked him in the eyes to see the truth. It was there you found it. Small hints of a future that you yearned for was now being offered to you and this time the promise he made would stick. Laughing, you pulled him down for a kiss, your legs hiking over his hips to keep him there with you.
“I’ll take that as a yes?” he asked, parting from you long enough to simply give you another chaste kiss.
This time it was your turn to nod, tears already streaming down your face. “Yes Tommy. I’ll have you. Forever.”
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forever-rogue · 1 year
Note
may i request one where joel finds comfort hugging reader in a bone crushing hug after a long day 👉👈
do with it what you will fluff angst spice ill take them allll i just want this man to crush me and id welcome it hehe
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AN | One bone-crushing hug with a side of angst and softness coming right up 🥰
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You looked at the watch on your wrist and sighed softly. The watch didn't work. It hadn't for a long time. 
But he'd given it to you and that made it special. You'd never taken it off, even when the battery died. He insisted he'd get you a new watch or even a new battery at the very least. You never took him up on the offer; it didn't matter to you whether or not ticked away as long as you had it.
Normally it served as a bit of reassurance. Today it served as a reminder that he was gone. Not gone, but gone for long enough that you were starting to get worried. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone. You didn't want to appear weak, but you also didn't want to cause anyone else to worry.
But this wasn't like Joel; he was never gone for more than two or three days at most.
It had been over a week.
And not knowing what happened to your lover was brutal.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Worryin' isn't going to solve anything."
"Well, not worrying isn't solving anything either," you threw a hard look at Tommy and shrugged before going back to your relentless pacing, "so if I have the option, I'll choose worrying."
"It's probably the bad weather," he mused, and you were sure he was trying to convince himself of that as much as you, "could be a lot of things. Jumping to the worst possible conclusion isn't…"
"I love your eternal optimism," you stood in front of the windows and looked towards the gate as you often did, "but I'd rather expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when he comes back. Versus the alternative."
The younger Miller brother nodded before letting out a long sigh, "I know."
"I'm scared, Tommy. It was supposed to be a simple supply run," stopping suddenly, you turned to him, eyes glittering with unscheduled tears, "what if he doesn't come back? It shouldn't have taken this long. I don't know what I'll do. I-I…"
He remained but hugged you tightly, trying to soak in all the worry and doubt you had. If it was an option, he would have taken all the worry and fear from you and dealt with it himself. If only.
"Why don't you go home for now and get some rest?" he suggested softly, wiping away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, "I'll stay here. I'll let you know if anything changes."
"Tommy-"
"Go and be with the kids," he whispered as your heart panged. You knew Ellie was just as worried about you, but she was the glue holding you all together right now, "they need you too."
"Okay," you nodded, "thank you."
"It'll be okay," he promised and you desperately wanted to hang onto his hope. All you could do was give him a small nod.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got home, you were spent and felt like you could use a year long nap. You closed the door behind out and let out a long sigh, letting go of everything you'd been holding back as you kicked your shoes off. 
You heard Ellie's voice in the living accompanied by a small set of giggles. Your heart softened at the sound and your heart yearned to be with them. You shred your coat before making your way over to them, Ellie on the floor on a big fluffy blanket as she played with the little girl. Your little girl; but really they were both your girls.  
The two of them stopped as soon as they heard you, Ellie offering you a small smile and Emma babbling and cooing happily. There had never been anyone you'd loved more than these two…and Joel. 
You walked over to them and sat down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie's head before pulling the baby into your lap. She squirmed as she tried to hug onto you, "she's been really talkative today. As much as a one-year-old can be."
"I wonder who she gets that from," she teased, causing the girl to grin sheepishly.
"Definitely not Joel."
"Definitely not Joel," you agreed. You sat back against the couch let out a long breath as you pulled up your legs and laid Emma against them, giving her tickles which only caused her to laugh harder.
"She looks like him," Ellie stroked her rosy, chubby cheek as you nodded. She had the same big, brown eyes and roguish hair, her expression often appearing as though she was deep in thought, "he's going to be okay, you know."
"Ellie…"
"I mean it," she insisted in that steadfast way she often did, "he'd never leave you or her o-or…"
"You," you finished for her, "we're all family, Ellie Bean."
"Yeah," she sat next to you and leaned her head on your shoulder, "he'll come back. Nothing would stop him."
"You're right," and god, you hoped she and Tommy were right, "he'll be home soon."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Several more agonizing days passed without any word, and the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Even Ellie, happy, optimistic Ellie, was started to show signs of worry. She’d never admit it, but she didn’t have to; it was written all over your face. You were just glad that Emma was still a baby and wouldn’t remember any of this.
That thought alone had led you down a rabbit hole of worry. What if he didn’t come back? What if she never got to see her father again? What if she didn’t remember him? How were you supposed to raise and take care of Ellie and Emma all on your own? 
You groaned as you startled awake for what was the umpteenth night in a row. You hadn’t been sleeping much; every time you managed to fall deep enough into slumber, the dreams - nightmares - came again and caused you to wake up. Most of the time you ended up giving up on sleep and would sit in the kitchen, nursing a mug of tea that grew cold as the sun came up. 
A book was currently in front of you, one you’d read a hundred times before, but you weren’t actually taking anything in. Your mind kept wandering, wandering, wandering. You were so lost in thought and so zoned out at the same time that you almost missed the pounding on the door. You almost ran to the door when you snapped back into reality, trying to keep the noise from waking the girls up. 
When you got to the door, you wretched it open without even looking to see who it was. It was Tommy, wild-eyed and looking somewhere between excited and nervous. 
“Come,” he didn’t hesitate to grab your arm as he pulled you out of the door, “come.”
“What’s going on?” you looked at him, confused but going along with him. You noticed that the front gate was closing and a group of people were nearby. The hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver ran down your spine, “Tommy?”
The crowd slowly parted and you felt like your heart felt like it stopped in your chest. Part of you wondered if you were dreaming, but you felt Tommy squeeze your shoulder, “go.”
Your feet were carrying you, faster and faster until the rest of the crowd dissipated and you found yourself face to face with him. 
“Joel,” you hadn’t even realized you were crying, weren’t consciously aware of anything else but him. 
You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he threw his arms around you, wrapping into the tightest, most bone-crushing hug imaginable. You didn’t care; you wouldn’t have cared if his touch bruised you black and blue. It was him, he was home, he was here. 
You held him back just as fiercely, and you could physically feel the tension in his body ease as he let himself relax into your familiar touch. You weren’t even sure how long he you, how long you clung onto his body before you finally parted. 
He took your face in his hands, his touch calloused but tender as he studied, almost as if he too didn’t believe you were real. He looked worse for the wear, but nothing unmanageable, nothing that would take him from you. And then he smiled, the same wonderful, lovely smile that made his dimple appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “sweet, beautiful abejita. I heard you were already planning my funeral.”
A moment of silence passed before you burst into laughter, tears - this time of joy and happiness - running down your face. Joel brushed them all away before kissing you softly. There was no way to properly put into words how much you’d missed this, him. When you pulled back you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “even if you didn’t come back, I’d find you and kill you myself if you thought you were going to get away with leaving me with two monsters to raise on my own.”
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” you buried your face into his chest and breathed him in. It didn’t matter that he was sweaty and dirty; him being here was enough, “you and that mouth and everything else about you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” you looped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, hugging him as you rocked back and forth, “I love you.”
“Terribly,” he agreed in the way that he was prone to doing, “I’ll always come back home to my girls. Even if I have to come crawling back.”
“Joel!” the small voice came from behind you. You turned to find Ellie there, holding a warmly bundled up Emma in her arms. Word got around fast, “you’re back.”
He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his girls, dropping to his knees in front of them as he looked them both over. The baby, miraculously, was still sleeping, but he stroked her cheek before repeating the gesture on Ellie. She swallowed thickly, tears unshed in her eyes as he hugged the two of them, gently, delicately. 
“I missed you both,” he promised, not that there had ever been a question on that. Ellie nodded, at a loss for words, “what, kid? No smart comment from you?”
“No,” she shook her head, a few tears falling down her cheeks, “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home, Joel.”
“Me too,” he promised, turning back to find you watching them with nothing but reverent fondness in your eyes, as you smiled at him, “me too.”
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bowandcurtsey · 10 months
Text
when y/n's ex appears Pt 1.
BC boys: Yuno | Zora | Luck [Part 1]
JJK: Sukuna | Gojo [Part 2]
Haikyuu: Kuroo | Nishinoya | Sakusa [Part 3]
x f! reader
This is gonna be a 3 part series because there's a lot of characters and the tags are gonna be so long so I just decided to put them into 3 parts in the end. Enjoy!!
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Yuno Grinberryall
{So your ex shows up at the golden dawn base to ask you for help with his parents. And although reluctantly, you agreed to help a little because his parents treated you so well when you both were together.}
Yuno is extremely quiet all of a sudden. Eerily quiet. Plotting-someone's-death kinda quiet.
It was obvious the scumbag could settle his family shit on his own but he's just pulling on loose strings trying to get you back.
How could he ever hold a candle to Yuno? Yuno was a humble man but even he himself knew it; your ex could never compare to him.
But there was an eenie weeny part of him that asked: what if?
What if as you spent time together again and with his parents, you miss the old times? Or you realised he's not that bad after all? or worst, fall in love with him again?
When you came home, he'd still didn't talk much. he didn't know what to say either. He didn't want to ask how was your day because he doesn't want to know how you spent it with him.
He didn't want to ask why do you even do all these because he doesn't want to make you feel bad. he knew you did it because you were kind and you don't forget people that were once kind to you.
He loved you for you, so instead, he chose to keep quiet and pull you closer whenever you came home, hugging you close to his chest, nuzzling into your hair, to remind him that you're his. All his.
At some point you know you're hurting his feelings by being close with your ex again, so you reassure him again and again, that once the matter is resolved, you'll cut all contact with your ex.
Just add some cheesy, mushy compliment and Prince Yuno will be all blushing and feeling good again.
Zora Ideale
{Your ex came to the black bulls base, running away from some perpetrators, begging for protection and a place to hide at for awhile. He said he's do anything and he could do cleaning and odd jobs for free. Of course your captain Yami wasn't gonna give up on a free errand boy. Besides, it was only temporary.}
This man was salty af. He would side eye him, stare him down, prank him ALL THE TIME.
Your ex would get a stink bug multiple times a day at random places. Like his pockets, his shoes, his hair even.
Zora was extra snappy with your ex. He would nitpick even on the smallest things.
"It's "you are". not "your". dimwit."
Or he was extremely mean to him.
"You missed a spot here. can't even clean properly."
If you ever told Zora to "be nice" or anything along the line, he'd get upset. He'll give you the look and he'll roll his eyes a little.
Man simply does not care about your ex's feelings or whatsoever. In his eyes, your ex was a low-life for ever hurting you before and he hated the fact that he's now trying to squeeze his way into your life again.
Cue the extreme display for public affections. *Jeng Jeng Jeng*
He'll put his hands around your waist, on your ass, on your shoulders, in your hair, on your thighs. More often than normal.
If you thought that Zora has never cared before this, you're wrong. Now he's even more shameless. He could pull you in for a kiss just in front of your ex's face if he thinks that he's checking you out. (he barely took a glance). And he's always lying on your lap if you're sitting in the shared living room.
Zora never used to care about what you wore in the past. But now, you're not allowed to wear shorts or skirts above the knee. You're also not allowed to wear sleeveless clothes.
If you argue, he'd say: "well, you're the one that wanted to let that leacher in, so dress up unless I'll kick him out and you can be naked for all I care."
Behind closed doors, he's become more of the big spoon. Usually he's also happy being caressed in your arms, but during the period that your ex was here, he always held you firmly in his arms as he slept.
Luck Voltia
{well, you bumped into him when the bulls were on a mission. It had been awhile since you guys talked, so your ex was really keen in catching up. He comes to look for you at every chance he got - during patrol duties, during events, during your off days. Somehow he's appear.}
Luck was initially friendly to him. Asking him if he wanted to spar. Even when he introduced himself as your ex, Luck simple introduced himself as your boyfriend, proudly. He did not even batter an eyelid when your ex said that you used to date.
Your ex tried to spar with Luck but of course Luck would beat him hands down. Your ex tried multiple of times for the first few times they met. But he ended up just embarrassing himself, and Luck would always laugh.
Of course your ex being the stingy and petty person he was, he took it to heart and tried to complain about Luck to the Magic Parliament about a Magic Knight injuring a civilian.
Well, he obviously did not win because he then angered Captain Yami because Yami had to waste his time on a minor issue.
Luck finally understood what your ex was getting at and he then showed no mercy to your ex.
"so... you complaint that I injured you on purpose? Maybe let me show you what is on purpose..." he had a smile on his face when he said it, and it was hella scary.
Luck was on his tail for a good month, teasing him, pranking on him, chasing after him EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Luck was so fast, you didn't even know what happened but in the blink of an eye, your ex was sprawled on the floor. If your ex was headed somewhere, you bet Luck would bring him all the way back to the start point just as he was about to reach his destination.
Whatever your ex touched, was leave a static shock and Luck would just laugh. Your ex could never even find any evidence of Luck playing him or even touching him.
It went on until your ex had to kneel in front of Luck, begging him to stop, "I will never appear in front of you or y/n again, so please leave me off the hook!"
That night, Luck asked you if you would be sad to never see your ex again. "I'm sorry if I went too far this time round..."
But of course you reassured him that you have not seen your ex in ages and of course you would never mind not ever seeing him again.
And Luck was back to his jovial self.
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inklore · 9 months
Text
sweet serial killer
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premise: it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you or you're killing someone else. you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked. 
pairing: ethan landry x (f)reader
word count: 1.7k
contents: piv, more psychotic feelings than anything, choking, mentions of knife and blood play, murders, dirty talk, stalking, au since this is not in correlation with the film, pain kink.
note: this is my first time writing for this little fucked up curly q even though i have drafts upon drafts of ideas for him, which i'll gladly write if ya'll want more.
haunted hoedown day three.
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You should be surprised. 
You should be pissed. 
Scared. 
Running for your life.
Something. Anything.
Other than standing in front of a murderer, your knuckles curling around the edge of the dresser your ass is pushed against. Your excelled heart rate pounding in your ears the closer he steps to you, leaving no room for you to breathe without touching him. Without smelling him. Stealing each other's air. 
Your eyes should be mapping out a quick exit. Coming up with a plan to get the hell out of here. Not looking into his. Not seeing the deep hue of nothingness that is abnormal to see in a sane person's eyes. The dilation of pupils letting you know that he’s got a plan either way. No matter how you take what he just told you.
“I’m ghostface.” 
The darkness in his eyes tells you you can run, but you won’t get far. You can tell someone, but we both know you won’t because I see you.
It’s why you haven’t moved. Why an escape is the last thing on your mind. Because your eyes are casting that same darkness right back at him. 
“You don’t have to pretend with me.” 
His words are like a fire engulfing you, more dangerous than the performance of normality you constantly put on. The sweet, rich girl whose parents gave her a free ride to college, who dote on her like a prized show pony because she’s the perfect child—the perfect daughter. 
The one thing in their lives they didn’t screw up. 
Being born screwed up and hiding it well, no fault of their own.
Known psychopaths rarely get what they want. They might, for a little while. But the lavishes never last. There's always more you need, more you want. And there are only so many people in this world who will give you what you want out of fear. 
Fear leads to trouble. Fear leads to getting caught. Turned in. Turned upon.
Hidden psychopaths, however, have an advantage. A perfected way of being that makes them seem like the nicest people you’ve ever met. The person you can run to. Trust. Count on. The person you wish you could be. 
That’s how you get what you want. 
That’s how you make the high of deceiving, hurting, and killing last. 
And if rich parents who like to hire nannies have taught you anything, it's that it is very easy to pretend. To perfect this little act. To be perceived as loving and being able to love when really all you want to do is gouge the person next to you’s eyes out. 
You have a system. A routine. You never let your crown slip. You never let anyone see you for what you truly are. You’d lose everything. Lavishes gone. That control you have gone. 
You didn’t care about being loved or feared. 
Feelings meant nothing to you. 
But watching the emotions of pain enacted on someone's face when you caused it? Nothing compared to it.
Besides, maybe the way Ethan is looking at you right now. 
The look someone gets when they look into a mirror and like the monster they see looking back at them. 
Part of you should have known. Should have seen this coming with the way his eyes were always already on yours when you looked his way in class. Or that night you caught him following you around campus, but you pretended you didn’t see him—much like the night he caught you red handed, literally, with blood staining your nails, and your pre-rehearsed explanation only making his eyes grow wider and fill with darkness, he quickly smiled away. 
And the nail that should have been pounded into the coffin when your roommate got attacked and all Ghostface did was wave his shiny little knife in your face, a gloved hand around your throat, and then disappeared down the fire escape. And the next day, when everyone was making your skin crawl from sympathy hugs and the fake tears that were glossing your eyes, Ethan had only given you dark looks from across the courtyard. 
Brows low and casting a shadow over his eyes in class. 
You should have known then. 
You’re usually so much better at reading people, trying to understand their normality to copy it. Use it against them.
But Ethan wasn’t normal. That much was clear. 
“I didn’t think you had it in you,” he chuckles under his breath as he shrugs, “this perfect little daddies girl, the girl everyone wants to sleep with, is crazy.” A slow smile lifts the corner of his mouth, “so many nights I’ve followed you, and you’ve kept your facade going. Even when no one was watching. Until the night I ran into you in the hall, the night I knew. I could see it written all over your face.” 
He leans in closer, his curls ghosting over your forehead. His voice a whisper, “but you’re not very good at hiding your messes, so I did it for you. I saved us both the trouble. You getting caught and me—well, Ghostface—taking credit for a kill so messy. And when I gave you my little present, that pesky roommate of yours gone, I could see it in your eyes. That trust. That you would have been happy with me either killing you or fucking you.” 
Your breath halts in your lungs, burning the back of your throat from the noise you let out when Ethan grabs it. Squeezing just enough to make it hard to swallow and to make that growing hunger move past your belly and throb between your legs. 
“Which is it now? Do you want to be fucked or killed?” 
Your lips try to form words, but the hand around your throat mingled with that perfected crown falling and shattering to the ground has your darkness making itself known more than just in the fire that’s so clearly burning in your eyes—the gasps that sound like weak whimpers, the warmth of your body against Ethan’s, the way your insides feel like molten lava when you consider both objectives—your mind is clouded with a pleasure you’ve only ever felt when you’ve watched the agony of pain fade out someone's light completely, your nails smelling of copper for days after.
If Ethan pulled out his knife right now and put it to your throat, you’d come before he made the first cut.
And as he says, “if I went downstairs and grabbed one of your fans and brought them up here and slit their throat for you, would you like that? Would you prefer that instead?” 
Your body shivers from his words, from the free hand that's running down your hip to the apex of your inner thigh—your sorry excuse for a skirt giving him more than enough access to press his thumb to the growing wet patch on the outside of your underwear. The pad of his finger pressing in and adding just the right amount of pressure to your aching clit to make your eyes flutter. 
“Or is it your insides you want me to see?” 
The involuntary whimper of his name, the motion of your hips trying to rub yourself against the miniscule touch between your legs, his last words, and the accuracy of it all are the finality for both of you. 
The thing that finally lets you both know that it doesn’t matter if he’s killing you, or you’re killing someone else, or blood is spilt for you, you’re putty in his hands right now, and you’re both fucked. 
So when his lips come down on yours, it’s hard and rough and lacking any sort of passion. 
Any sort of fake pleasure you’ve always had to give to past lovers. 
There's nothing fake about the heat inside of you. The sauna of depravity that Ethan is pulling out of you—devouring it with bloody teeth that match your own hunger. Your own fucked up way of getting off. Of feeling something. 
When Ethan starts to descend to his knees, leaving a trail of bites along your neck that feel too hard and imprinting to not be a personal vendetta of anger, of want, of a need to make you feel pain, to want it from him—you stop him. 
Yanking his curls so hard, he’s hissing against your mouth. Your fingers move in a flash of pushed away fabric, buttons, and zippers to free him and wrap a hand around his cock. Giving it a couple pumps. Watching the way his mouth parts and his lips curl in pleasure when you tighten and twist around the head. 
Wordlessly telling him what you want when you turn away, pushing your ass out for him as you bend yourself over the dresser. 
If you didn’t have him inside of you one way or another, you know you’d lose your patience. Know that darkness would simmer away into something worse, something that would leave the both of you in more agony than pleasure. 
You needed him. 
And by the sound Ethan makes when he thrusts into you—hard, without warning—you know he needs you too. Know that he’s probably gotten off to the thought of you bloodied and underneath him, his knife pressed to your throat, threatening to make you bleed if you didn’t let him come inside of you. If you didn’t let him lick the wounds he wants to create against your flesh. 
The pace he sets is rough. 
Harsh against your body that rubs against the rigid edge of the dresser. His nails dig into your hips as he pulls you back onto him, as he grabs the back of your neck, digging his fingers into your skull. 
The palm that snakes around to your neck pulls you up and against his front, putting your body at a new angle that has your muscles stretching in pain and making your eyes roll back. The noises of pleasure and pain like a fucked up hymn. 
“That night I was in your apartment, your life in my hands, do you know how much self control I had to have to not slice this pretty throat?” His teeth graze against the skin below your ear, his own groans and hitches of breath making you feel lightheaded. “To not make you bleed and spread it against my cock and make you jerk it off. Make you use your mouth to lick me clean.”
It’s those words and the lack of air his palm is allowing your lungs to intake that make you come. That has the gasp falling from your mouth sounding like something dying, something begging for life. 
Portraying the opposite of his words. Of why you’re coming. Of why the rush has you going lax against him and smiling. 
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