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#happy saturday how do we feel guys
blinkpen · 9 months
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gearing up to save her endangered butch
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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so, you've been considering getting into hermitcraft.
that's great! welcome! we are an extremely enthusiastic fandom, i admit, but we are very happy to have you watching the hermits! however, with over a decade of existence and twenty-seven current hermits, it can feel very intimidating to get into hermitcraft. luckily, as of the time of this posting--january 31st, 2024--it's also the BEST time to get into hermitcraft, because a new season starts on february 3rd! (and if you're reading this later: don't worry. this is ALSO the best time to get into hermitcraft. don't worry about it i'll get into that.)
the shortest version of this advice is: start wherever you want, with whoever you want. it doesn't matter, you can catch up.
still, it can seem like a lot. so, from someone who's been around since mid season seven, here is a more detailed guide on how to start watching hermitcraft!
what is hermitcraft?
hermitcraft is a collection of people who all play on the same survival multiplayer minecraft server. that server is a mostly vanilla minecraft server; i don't really call hermitcraft "vanilla" anymore, as they rely on a number of largely cosmetic mods, but the things they do on hermitcraft should, broadly, all be possible in vanilla minecraft, and the server still "feels" vanilla, so. vanilla minecraft. they do this in "seasons", which are periods of time between a year and two years, after which they reset and start on a fresh server.
in comparison to something like qsmp or even the life series, hermitcraft leans heavily on the "building cool things and hanging out" side of the spectrum as opposed to the roleplay side. however, at least once a season the hermits like to do a big storyline; sometimes, it's more frequent. many of the storylines are more natural escalations of things like server prank wars or a failing server economy, though, as opposed to things that are clearly in-universe roleplaying. don't worry, though; you'll know a hermitcraft storyline when you see it. by everyone's bad acting. also, by rendog putting on a silly accent.
if your only impression of hermitcraft has been from the fandom, you... probably have a somewhat mistaken impression. my bad. in my defense, i am a horror writer at heart, and in the fandom's defense, a LOT of crossover has happened with the life series fandom, which leads to both sort of leaking into each other. in general, expect things to be on the lighthearted goofy shenanigans side with very few exceptions when you're actually watching hermitcraft, despite the way the fandom tends to be.
where is hermitcraft?
broadly, youtube! hermitcraft is an almost entirely video series, and if you want to watch a hermitcrafter, you will almost certainly need to watch them on youtube. there are only very rarely streamed hermitcraft events, and these are normally announced ahead of time.
what if i prefer twitch?
skip the rest of this and just watch joe hills. i promise i'm not saying that because i'm a joe hills guy; i'm saying it because he's the only hermit that consistently streams from hermitcraft. impulse, tango, cleo, pearl, xisuma, iskall, and hypno all also appear to stream fairly regularly, but it's not always from hermitcraft.
where should i start?
now, that's the real question, isn't it? my answer is simple: start Now. if you're reading this as i post it, that means start this saturday on everyone's episode one. if you're reading this long after i post it, though, just... go ahead and start with whoever you want to watch's latest episode! the nice thing about hermitcraft is that you can GENERALLY jump in wherever you want.
but what about old seasons?
you do not need to watch older seasons of hermitcraft. unless you want to, of course; the world is your oyster and they are very good! however, there's also a LOT of old hermitcraft, and if you want to join in with what hermitcraft is doing now, old seasons aren't necessary. very little carries over from season to season. while sometimes old "lore" or recurring bits can carry references over, and the relationships between hermits will often carry over to some extent (if often not in the same patterns), it is never to an extent that you need the old seasons for context. each season is a clean new slate, and where "lore" carries over, the relevant hermit will almost always explain it to you.
what about helsknight/evil x/hotguy/boatem/convex/some other thing i've been hearing about?
i promise, if they are relevant to this season, they will explain it to you in the relevant episode and/or it will be easy enough to pick up. do not worry about it. each season is a soft reset for a reason, and one of those reasons is to make it easier on new viewers! and if you're here because you WANTED one of those specific things... ask an older fan! they'll be able to direct you to the places they're from.
do i need to watch all the hermits?
absolutely not! in fact, i strongly recommend you don't. there are going to be... hold on let me count... twenty-seven hermits? (i am bad at counting don't quote me on this) in this season alone. keeping up with all those videos is too much for basically anyone! instead, pick a few hermits that you like best, and if you want to keep up with everyone else, go to the hermitcraft recap youtube channel and watch that! it is a vital hermitcraft resource where pixlriffs, zloyxp, and lyarrah all watch every single hermit so that we don't have to. honor their sacrifice and don't try to watch everyone.
but how do i pick someone?
few ways! there exist, if you google, plenty of "choosing your hermit pov" quizzes; if you head over to the hermitcraft subreddit, for example, i'll be SHOCKED if they don't have one, and if you go over to the recap channel, they had one of those for a while too. this is the starting place for many people.
another way is to watch the recap and choose whoever's project interests you most. for early episodes, this may be hard, but since hermits tend to go hard for their first episode, you'll normally at least be able to pick up a sense of pace and build style.
just watching whoever it is your friends are obsessed with is also a tried and true method of finding your first hermit; frequently, like with the recap, this is a good method for then figuring out whose style you like best, and switching to them, if you don't end up clicking with the same people your friends click with.
finally, you can just... click a random hermit's channel! try a few out! maybe you heard about decked out and want to watch tango; maybe there's a storyline you want to start watching because the dash has been rambling about it; maybe you just want to know who this grain character is. clicking around until you find the guy whose editing you click with is a totally valid strategy!
that sounds hard. just pick someone for me.
if you like well-edited shenanigans: grian or mumbo jumbo. (these are also good starter hermits in general, i've found; if you aren't sure where else to start, start with one of them.)
if you like long background noise-type videos: docm77
if you like minigames: tangotek.
if you like a chill video: xbcrafted or, if the texture pack gets you, vintagebeef.
if you like storylines: rendog or grian, again. (i was trying not to double-up, but if you're here from an rp-heavy server, grian remains a great entry point in that regards.)
if you like to see something new and bizarre: zedaph if you prefer highly-edited videos, joe hills if you prefer lightly edited videos.
if you want the best building on hermitcraft: pearlescentmoon or bdoubleo100, special mention to goodtimeswithscar.
if you want someone as new as you: i'll come back and edit in whoever the new hermits are once we know! but them.
if you just want one of my favorites: zombiecleo or iskall85.
thank you! what if i DO want to know what the fandom is always on about?
that, i'm afraid, i don't know how to help you with. you'll just have to watch hermitcraft from here--and maybe read some of the fanworks that have intrigued you--and find out for yourself!
good luck out there, and i hope this has helped someone!
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afterglowsainz · 1 month
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fresh out the slammer | max verstappen
summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max
warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking
word count: 1.8k
a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max
the tortured athletes department series
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it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.
on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.
“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 
during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.
once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.
“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.
“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.
“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.
“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.
“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.
“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”
you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.
“hello.” he answers.
“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”
“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”
“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”
“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”
you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.
“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”
you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.
“okay.” you answered and finished the call.
when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.
“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.
“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.
“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.
“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 
“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.
“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.
you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.
“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.
he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.
“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.
you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.
“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.
“we broke up.” you answer dryly.
“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.
“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.
it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.
“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”
“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.
“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”
“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.
“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.
“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”
“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”
he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.
“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.
“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”
“why do you think, y/n?”
he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.
before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?
“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.
you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.
“you could stay.” you whisper.
max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.
“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.
“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.
“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.
“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”
his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.
“come inside.” you ask.
he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.
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ghosthunterbuck · 2 months
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beer & apologies
(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)
It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.
“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.
“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.
Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.
Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”
“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”
Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.
“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.
“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”
Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.
“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”
“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”
“I know,” Eddie says softly.
A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.
“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.
Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.
Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, well maybe, but—”
“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”
Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.
“You two make up?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.
“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”
“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.
He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.
“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.
Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”
Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.
“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.
“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”
“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.
“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”
“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.
“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”
“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.
Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”
“Promises, promises.”
“I will!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”
Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”
“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.
Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.
He feels like a liar.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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A Doe in Fall (Part 3)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦
Part 3 A tragedy 
So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.
「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」
Minors DNI 🤺
You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.
But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 
You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 
“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.
“No, Tommy.”
“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 
“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.
You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.
“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”
You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 
“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”
You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.
“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.
“For what?”
It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 
He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.
“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”
“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”
“He usually cuts us in.”
Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 
“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.
“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.
“That’s it?” Incredulous.
“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”
“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”
By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 
Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 
During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.
Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”
You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 
Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.
“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 
Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.
“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.
He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 
Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 
“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.
You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’
Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 
“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 
“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.
“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.
“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
Lie. 
“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 
Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”
“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.
“Then look at me.”
Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.
You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.
You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.
Lie. 
You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.
Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.
“Alastor, people are staring.” 
His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.
“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.
“The truth or wh-“
“Always. Never give me anything else.”
You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”
Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.
“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 
Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.
“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”
You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?
He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 
You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.
Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 
You stood, waiting for an explanation.
Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”
You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 
Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?
“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”
“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”
You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.
He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”
You watched his car light up and leave the alley.
It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 
So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?
Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”
You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 
Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 
Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”
Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”
“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”
Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.
He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 
Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.
Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 
However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 
Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.
Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.
Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.
When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.
“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 
Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.
“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.
You grimaced, “No, a murder.”
She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”
You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.
“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 
“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.
“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”
“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”
A nod, yes, actually, you had.
“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”
You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”
When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.
“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 
Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.
The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.
The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  
Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?
Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.
The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.
You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.
And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.
Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.
You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.
The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.
“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.
“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.
“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.
“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”
A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”
A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 
Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 
Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 
Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 
You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”
“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”
Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 
Funny how that works both ways.
Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 
The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.
Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 
You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.
Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?
He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.
You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.
Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 
He nodded, “Yeah.”
“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”
As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”
He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 
You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.
“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”
How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 
Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.
“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 
How could he make hell sound so sweet?
“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 
He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?
His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 
You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”
His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.
Had you said something wrong? 
“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”
Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.
He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.
Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.
Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 
With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 
Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.
He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 
Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.
You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.
Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 
But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.
Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”
His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.
You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”
He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.
“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.
Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.
The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 
Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.
Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.
He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.
He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.
He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 
(Next Part Next Week, orz)
*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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reallykaz · 3 months
Text
— .best date ever! // matt sturniolo
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matt sturniolo x fem!reader
plot summary : when the cute guy in your class asks you out on a date, you’re more than happy to go. but you didn’t expect a fun time at the amusement park would end in the back seat of his car with your clothes off and his lips on yours.
content warnings : very mature themes (18+ MINORS DNI) strong language, small mention of anxiety. fluffy plot with porn at the end! first date things and matt being down bad for reader. tension in a photobooth ;) smutty car sex, oral sex and unprotected p in v (pls don’t do this!be safe!)
a/n : i’m a slut for a man who can drive. that’s it. also this is my first time writing smut so i hope it's up to standards lmaooo i really dk how i feel about this either… like always all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <333
wc : 5.5k
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"Fuck! I have nothing to wear!"
Saturday night and you were stressing, half of your closet was scattered around your bedroom floor and your desk was a mess with makeup and hair products. The whole room smelt like perfume, vanilla lotion and nail polish from the last two hours you’ve been getting ready.
It was finally the night of your date with Matt and you were beyond nervous. You’ve known each other since middle school but you mostly talked in English class for the past four years - just simple ‘hi’s’ and exchanged smiles.
It took you by surprise when Matt asked you out on Wednesday because you had no idea that he had any type of attraction for you. In school he was quiet, played a few sports and only hung out with his brothers and best friends. You didn’t know much other than that.
Stalking his instagram didn’t offer much
But you were glad he was taking you out. It was the first time a guy has actually wanted to go on a date with you and Matt seemed really genuine. You were excited for once because usually being with guys has always left you feeling used, empty and no good. But this was different.
Matt had asked you for your number too when he asked you out and obviously you couldn’t say no when he looked down at you like you hung the moon so you had been texting each other a couple times for the past three days.
It was only very casual but instead of asking for pictures of your tits, he’d actually ask about your day and would make you laugh with unfunny jokes. So yeah, it was definitely different.
After twenty hectic minutes later and your mom bombarding your personal space to ask about the date, you had finally picked out an outfit - cute and simple with a hint of sexy and hot. It was good and you looked good in it.
When your phone vibrated from a message notification, you knew it was Matt and your gut swirled with butterflies. After dousing yourself in some more perfume, topped up your lipgloss and fixed up your hair, you check your phone.
from matt🤍 i’m outside :)
You immediately go into panic mode when you hear the doorbell ring and you couldn’t have ran downstairs any faster than right now. "Honey? Is that your date? I wanna meet –
"Bye mom! Be back by midnight! Love you!" Matt drops the kind smile and rehearsed lines in his head when you’re slamming your front door and dragging him back to the car by his hand as he looks back in case your parents walked out, "Was I not supposed to knock? I didn’t know."
You glance at your door when you turn to him, looking up with a smile. "It’s okay, I just didn’t want my mom to start yapping on if she saw you, we’d both we there for hours." Matt nods at your explanation, forgetting about the flowers in his hand when he actually looks at you.
His eyes trail up and down to check you out, the way your skirt clung to your hips was enough to make his head spin and cock twitch. Matt couldn’t believe that tonight he was the one you were all dressed up pretty for and the thought made his tummy swirl. He felt more nervous after realising he was staring.
Luckily you didn’t even notice because you were doing the exact same thing. Your eyes trained on the chain around his neck before they glance all the way down to the rings on his hands and that’s when you see the sweet smelling flowers. You try to ignore the veins popping out from how tight he was holding them. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck
"These are for you,"
Matt holds out the flowers and you grab them off of him, fingers brushing against his as you beam. "This is really sweet, Matt. You didn’t have to do all of this," you couldn’t believe you were already blushing over some flowers and Matt just shakes his head with a smile, "I wanted to, don’t worry."
There’s a pause when Matt just looks down at you, bashful smiles on both of your faces and he liked the way your eyes looked more light with the sunset in your face. Now, there was tension in the air surrounding the two of you.
"Well thank you, really." Your voice was genuine but small, turning shy under Matt’s gaze as you avoid his eyes by looking at the flowers in awe.
"C’mon, let’s go." You look up and see Matt holding the passenger door open, "get in." He nods his head and you comply, leaning down to get in the car and immediately smelling his natural scent. It was nice, sort of safe.
"Where are we even going anyways?"
"Oh my god! You’re such a cheat!"
A loud set of giggles escape your mouth when you see Matt get more and more aggravated from the game of mini golf. He hides his own smile whilst shaking his head, focusing on getting his blue ball into the hole where your red one was already in, sitting nicely. "I am not!"
The fluorescent lights from the Ferris wheel was reflecting down on both of your faces, brightening the whole mini golf course in multicolours and it made the whole experience better. The amusement park was really busy for a Saturday night so when you both arrived, Matt used the excuse of 'not wanting to lose you' to hold your hand. It was silly but it made you smile anyways.
You then spent the next two hours holding his hand, laughing and competing against each other in those little mini game stalls that gave you a teddy as a prize. But Matt had won you a little heart keychain that already held so much significance to you already, you knew you'd keep it forever. He then dragged you on a couple of rollercoaster rides with the promise that you could drag him into mini golf afterwards.
Matt didn't realise that you were actually really good at it.
"I'm gonna get this next one, just watch." After throwing you a promising look, Matt focuses on the ball and you grin at the way his tongue poked out in concentration before he hits it with his little matching blue club and it finally goes into the hole. "See? Told you," his eyes light up when he looks back up at you with a smug smile on his face and you match his excitement, naturally wrapping your arms around his shoulders for a hug. "I knew you could!"
Matt's heart flutters for the 100th time tonight and he completely melts into your touch, wrapping his hands around your waist tightly. Your bodies swayed together in a moment of celebration and Matt could feel how warm you were against him.
"But guess what?" You both pulled away but you still kept yourself close when you look up at Matt with a playful smile and twinkling eyes that made him adore you, "what?" He knew full well what but seemed to find himself enjoying entertaining your banter in the last few hours.
"I still win," you let out a soft chuckle at his teasing glare, positively ignoring the way his simple touch made you feel so alive when you hugged. "Do you?" Matt questions quietly, tilting his head to the side that made you mirror his expression. Before you could answer, his hands were wrapped back around your waist and tickling your sides.
To an outsiders perspective, you and Matt looked like a young and happy couple that were very much in love with one another. The way your bodies just naturally gravitated towards each other so easily with either a simple touch or a quick glance seemed normal.
Matt was comforting. And he made you feel safe in every sense of the meaning. It was difficult to describe how you felt right now because you didn't understand it whatsoever but you knew you could be your genuine self and that's what mattered the most. You just had no idea how to tell him or if you should say anything at all.
"Ah! Stop! I can't breathe!"
Matt lets out a loud laugh, letting go of your body to almost keel over in laughter at the snort that just appeared in the middle of giggles. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, eyes wide as you hold your cheeks in complete disbelief that Matt just heard your ugly laugh on the first date. "Oh my god! Pretend you didn't hear that."
"No way that just happened," Matt calms his laughter, looking at the way your cheeks burned red and smiling. He knew you were embarrassed but he didn’t want you to be, it was cute.
But in hopes to make you feel better, he quickly changed the subject.
Turning to grab the golf balls, he walks over to throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. "C’mon, let’s go winner." You jokingly poke his side that makes him flinch and it makes you both laugh, "you’re such an idiot."
It had maybe been a half hour later and more smiles and small touches had been shared over some cinnamon churros. The sky was pitch black now and the air was colder. The amusement park was becoming more packed with teenagers and college kids instead of the typical families with their small children.
You could tell that Matt was more comfortable around you now in comparison to when he first picked you up. Conversation was easy with him, talking about anything or anyone and still finding it interesting. You learned more about the sports he played and his family and friends.
The conversations never expanded any deeper than casual and it was actually a relief. For some reason you wanted to find things about Matt through time and peeling back layers the more you got to know each other. You liked it better that way because it was real to you.
"Oh look! There’s a photobooth,"
Matt’s eyes looked away from you to glance at whatever you were pointing at in hopes you didn’t catch him staring and was thankful for the colourful string lights scattered above you that cleverly hid his blush. His fingers brushed softly against yours when you walked side by side, itching to touch you.
He had been stealing shy glances at you all night and kept thinking about how he could ask you out again after the night was over. But all night his anxious mind had tried to betray him and things like holding your hand needed a lot of courage to do despite the relieved feeling afterwards.
"You wanna go?" His hands twitched at his sides and when you look back at Matt with a smile, his mind went blank when you grabbed his hand this time with such ease. "C’mon," you dragged him towards the empty photobooth, quickly dodging the crowds of people in your way in hopes it’ll stay empty. "Excuse me! Thank you!"
Your hand was still holding his when you looked past the beige curtain and down at the tiny seat that was supposed to fit the both of you. "Oh."
Matt entwined his hand away from yours to slip past you and sit on the seat, manspreading and tapping his lap. "Come here," you watch in awe and the low tone of his voice gives you no choice but to lower yourself down on his thigh, fiddling with the ends of your skirt shyly. "Is this okay?"
Matt didn’t answer and just pulled the curtain shut and leaving you both under shitty, dim lights and away from everyone’s eyes.
"Are you okay?" His voice soft when he looks back at you, glancing at your lips and back to your eyes. Your heart races from the closeness and you just let out a strangled hum, "mhm." You nod.
Matt just gives you a cocky grin, "good." The heat between your legs throbs when his arm wraps around your waist and rests on your bare thigh to toy with the bottom of your skirt. He leans over to touch the screen, tightening his grip on your body and you could barely focus.
You were convinced he knew what he was doing and the worst thing about it was that it felt right. You didn’t want anything like this to happen tonight, if anything, nothing sexual at all with Matt because you were scared of losing something you never had.
But whatever this was felt different.
"You ready?" You blinked at him, an arm wrapped around his neck when he just looks at you. A look so simple that made you feel so much. "Yeah," you try to disregard your thoughts for the next five minutes of happiness.
Matt caught you by surprise when he squished your face for the first photo and just before the light flashed, you squished his face too. The two of you trying to smile at the camera with your hands wrapped around each other’s faces.
"Funny faces?" You suggested for the next photo, blissfully unaware of Matt’s hand coming over your head when he nods in agreement. The second shot is with Matt sticking his tongue out and looking at your cross eyes and your pout, trying not to laugh at the bunny ears.
Afterwards, you both just laughed together.
"Hey, look at me," Matt whispers and gently grabs your jaw to pull your face towards his, the small smile on your face disappearing when your eyes meet. Your skin turned hot when his fingers began stroking up and down your thigh lightly, making your skirt shift further up your hips. "Yeah?" You felt breathless.
Neither of you realise the camera just took another shot because all Matt could focus on was the need to kiss you. He was already half hard in his jeans just from you sitting on his lap and he could feel the cotton of your panties rub against his thigh. You were driving him crazy.
Matt really did want to kiss you more than anything and he knew you did too with the way you leaned closer and fluttered your eyes but he just couldn't. He had no idea why and it was frustrating, he felt like a complete coward. Why can't he just kiss you?
Your face drops when Matt lets out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hand and leaning his head into your neck to close his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whines softly and you can feel him leave a quick peck to your skin which makes you feel weak so you look down at him in confusion. "Is something wrong?" You ask lowly.
When Matt looks into your eyes, you could see how his pupils were blown out and it was captivating. For a moment you're convinced he's either going to tell you what's up or kiss you when his lips part but nothing happens and you feel confused. "Matt?"
The loud speaker of an AI voice cuts you both off to let you know that your photos have been printed and to leave the booth. You let out a sigh when Matt immediately stands up, gently pushing you off his lap and pulling the curtain back open. You couldn't even focus on anything else when you follow after Matt like a puppy.
"Matt?" You call after him when you see that he was walking away, "Where are you going?" Pulling back his tattooed arm to make him look at your frown and you notice the strip of photos of you both in his hand. You couldn't figure out what he was thinking with the way he was looking down at you. "I thought we were having a good night."
In reality, Matt felt embarrassed. His mind was working in overdrive and wouldn't blame you if you thought he was an asshole. He was angry at himself for leading you on like that because that was never his intention. He really did want to kiss you and touch you without worrying constantly about little things.
"Let me take you home, yeah?"
Matt spoke softly but didn't wait for an answer from you before walking through the carpark and you once again had no other choice but to follow after him. You didn't want to end the night like this. You refused to.
"I don't want to go home yet," Matt hears you whisper and feels your hand pulling on his arm again so he turns back around to glance down at you. He sighs when he sees the dejected look in your eyes but the touch of your fingers trailing his tattoos makes his head spin and now he could only think about one thing.
"Get in the car."
_
The low hum of Matt's playlist was playing quietly when he drives into an empty carpark, surrounded by nothing but trees. Since the Photobooth incident, neither of you have talked and you're pretty sure Matt hasn't even looked your way. "Where are we?"
There’s a pause that makes you look at Matt properly. You knew he wanted to say something with the look on his face and you felt bad. It was like one moment the two of you were having the best night ever to being in awkward silence.
"I’m sorry."
You didn’t know why Matt was apologising to you because there was nothing to apologise for, not really anyways. You weren’t that much of a bitch to get angry at him for what happened earlier because it was clear there was more to it.
"You don’t have to say -
"I like you, okay?" This catches you off guard - even after all of the hand holding and longing glances tonight - it doesn't stop the fluttery feeling in your gut from hearing it out loud.
"I really really like you." Matt's voice breaks in desperation and you look at him staring at his front wheel like it's the most interesting thing ever. The light in the car was dimly lit so it was hard to read Matt's expression from the angle you're sitting at.
Matt doesn’t give you a second to reply, "and every second of this night has been like heaven and now i feel like such an asshole for leading you on like that because that was never my intention. I would never do that to you."
Finally, your eyes meet.
"I really did want to kiss you." The needy tone in his voice was driving you crazy and your body slowly gravitated towards his over the console. Matt never took his eyes off of you, eyes glancing at your lips when you speak. "It’s okay."
The way you’re looking at him now was enough for Matt to grab your face and bring your lips to his. You can feel the coldness of his rings on your skin when his tongue slips into your mouth and it makes you whimper, clenching your thighs together and reaching for Matt.
A strangled groan escapes his throat when he feels your hand pulling on his hair and he has to stop himself from dragging you on his lap. The low music playing in the background is drowned out by your lips smacking together and all of the pent up feelings Matt's had all night has just rushed straight to his dick. He had to pull away.
"Fuck." Matt mumbles and you watch him try to adjust his jeans, lifting his hips and pulling on the waistband. Your lips are plumper than usual and you slowly wipe them with a small smile when Matt looks over at you, "You're driving me crazy."
You know Matt's hard when you glance back down but you're taken by surprise when you really see how big he is. His rushed attempt of tucking it into his waistband was a failure. Matt knows you've seen how hard he was and it makes him blush. When he feels your hand trailing up and down his arm, it makes his breath hitch and that makes you smirk, "You're so cute."
"Shut up." He's smiling when he kisses you again and it does in fact shut you up. The kiss turns from sweet and tender to rough and needy in a second. Once you feel Matt's hands trail from your face and down your body, you're the first one to initiate more when you grab his hand and guide it between your thighs.
Matt pulls away and with half-lidded eyes, he looks down to see your legs spread and your flipped skirt covering his hand. "You're so wet," he chuckles softly when you moan, eyes rolling back when his fingers touch you through your panties. "This is what you do to me."
"Do you-" Matt stops mid sentence when you begin to kiss down his neck and pulls away to look at you properly, "Do you wanna go in the backseat?" You notice how blown out his pupils look and it makes his eyes darker in the dim light and you imagine looking at them every morning as you both lay together with the warm light reflecting through the windows.
Matt gets nervous at your silence.
"We don't have to, I don't expect anything from you if that's what you're wondering." He reassures, not wanting to say the wrong thing and scare you off. In all honesty, Matt didn't expect anything like this to happen when he kissed you but this was in the moment and for some reason it felt right. But he'd never make you do anything you weren't comfortable with. "I can just take you home if that's -
"I want to." You cut him off.
"Yeah?" Matt sighs with relief and he smiles when you nod. "Yeah." You mirror his smile and with a quick kiss to your lips, you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt and climb into the backseat with such ease that makes you wonder if he's done this before.
"C'mere." Matt taps his lap and you glance down at his dick once more before climbing over the seats to go to him. In your perfectly awkward fashion, you end up practically tripping into Matt's lap and he quickly grabs the back of your thighs to steady you as you both giggle quietly together. "Sorry." You whisper.
"You really are beautiful," The way he looks up at you feels so intimate and sincere that it makes you think that nobody has ever looked at you like Matt does and that realisation was scary yet so endearing. "I bet you say that to all of the girls you seduce into the backseat of your car," You joke with a playful eye roll and it makes him laugh.
"I really like you."
"I really like you too."
You can't wipe the grin on your face when Matt leans up to kiss you, his hands trailing around your body. "And you're the only girl I've ever seduced into the backseat of my car," he whispers against your lips before kissing you softly, the both of your eyes fluttering closed.
Your hands wander down his chest to the bottom of his shirt when your tongues swirl together and you can still taste the sweet cinnamon on his tongue from earlier. When you feel Matt's hands moving up your thighs slowly, you begin to tug off his shirt and he pulls away from the kiss to take it off and throw it on the floor.
"You too." Matt whispers and his hands are playing with the hem of your dress, looking up at you to make sure if that's what you want. Your heart is pounding when you lift yourself up off Matt's lap to take off your dress that leaves you in your matching lace set and when you see his eyes light up, it makes you feel better.
"Is this okay?"
"More than okay." Matt reassures softly and his touch feels ten times hotter now you're half naked that it makes you feel goosebumps. He leans up to kiss your chest and his hands find themselves back between your thighs and it all feels so overwhelming in the best way possible. "Can I touch you?" The way he asks makes you melt.
"Mhm, please." You beg with your head nodding and grinding your hips into his hand. "Please touch me, Matt." Your desperateness makes his cock twitch and he ignores it with a smirk, gently pulling your thong to the side and running a finger through your folds before finding your clit and that makes your thighs twitch when you drop your head on his shoulder with a whine, "Fuck."
"You’re so needy for me." He says so smugly, easily slipping two fingers in you and feeling how wet you are. You reply with moan, riding your hips when he curls it upwards and he can feel you squeeze around him and Matt can’t wait till you’re doing the same thing around his cock.
When Matt starts rubbing his thumb against your clit at the same time, you’re moving your hands down to his clothed crotch and feeling how hard he is. He groans lowly when your hand wraps around his print, "and I’m needy?"
"Don’t tease me." His fingers slip out of you to grip onto your thighs tightly and you begin to undo his belt and jeans. "Let me show you how much I like you, okay?" Matt lifts his hips up to pull down his pants when you drop to your knees, staring up at him through your lashes and playing with the waistband of his boxers. "Okay."
Matt lets out a moan of relief and throws his head back when you finally pull them down and take his dick in your mouth. He didn't think you could get any prettier but seeing you like this was heavenly – it was like all of his 14 year old fantasies coming true.
"Oh my god, sweetheart." You feel Matt's hands grabbing your hair and gently moving it out of your face so he could really look at you. You hum with his cock in your mouth and when he moans from the vibrations, you try to go deeper and you can feel his tip at the back of your throat and the salty taste of his pre-cum makes you choke. "Fuck. You don't have to do that."
"I wanted to." You smile sweetly and look up at Matt, watching the way he licks his lips when you rub your thumb against his swollen red tip and a strangled noise escapes his throat. Your knees are beginning to hurt but just before you could wrap your mouth around him again, Matt is holding your face and pulling you back up to his face.
"I really want to fuck you." Matt whispers lowly when he leans up to kiss your neck and just before you straddle him again, his hands are pulling your thong down your legs and toying with the lace on it. "Let me ride you." You whisper and Matt feels his heart race at the way you're looking at him as if he had no choice but to let you.
A small squeal leaves your throat when Matt pulls you on his lap abruptly and you both chuckle lowly before you're grabbing his face and kissing his lips as if your life depended on it.
His hands come up to undo your bra and when it comes off a few seconds later, you definitely know he's done this before. You grind your hips so you can feel his tip rub against your clit that feels so good that you pull away from the kiss to moan.
Matt's breathless when his hands grip your hips, helping you grind against him and feeling you get wetter by the second, "I don't have a condom." When he says this, you don't really think it through stupidly enough and just shake your head. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." This moment felt too nice to just stop and Matt just went along with it – obviously thinking with his dick.
When Matt finally thrusts up into you, the stretch stings and you've really underestimated how big he is because he already feels so deep. It was one thing having him in your mouth but when he's fucking up into you like this felt so much more intense and you couldn't tell if you were just really cock drunk or completely in love.
Probably both.
"Fuck, I swear this pussy was made for me."
Definitely both.
"It's yours." You moan when you ride your hips on his dick, pushing him down on the seat and Matt is in amazement when he looks up at you with flushed cheeks. His hands are trailing up and down your body, wanting to touch everywhere all at once when he leans up to try and kiss you. "All yours." You whisper and his lips are on yours.
The kiss is messy, hot and passionate all at once and when your movements gets faster, you're practically moaning into each other's mouths. The car slowly moves with rhythm and you subconsciously pray nobody can see from outside even if it's dark because it's really obvious with the steamed up windows around you both.
Matt notices the way your thighs begin to shake and the way your bouncing becomes quicker, "Are you gonna cum?"
You let out a mix between a hum and a moan, nodding your head when you feel your legs begin to burn. But just as you feel the familiar tightness in your tummy, Matt's holding your waist tightly and thrusting up so hard into you, it makes you cum instantly and you gush around him.
The music playing softly in the background is drowned out by your loud moans and Matt has a smug smirk on his face when your eyes roll back and your orgasm takes over until he feels his own. In all honestly, he was ready to bust the minute he was inside you but he had to make you cum first. It was a priority.
In your post orgasm haze, you don't even feel Matt lifting you off his dick until you see his cum spurting out onto his hand and tummy. "Mhm, fuck." Rolling his head back, Matt groans lowly and it makes your pussy flutter when you watch breathlessly.
The two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat with flushed skin and neither of you care about the smell of sex surrounding you from being too high off of the pheromones. A part of you is shocked that you've just fucked someone on the first date but the other part is okay with it because it's Matt.
Matt. Matt. Matt.
"Did you really mean it?"
You blink to see Matt looking down at his hands on your body, tracing shapes on your hips gently. "Hm? What?" You swallow and he gulps, slowly looking up into your eyes, "Did you mean it? When you said you're all mine?" You can tell he's nervous when he asks this, almost afraid of your response, and your hands fall on top of his. "Yeah."
He hides his smile and you speak up again, "Did you want me to mean it?" Matt locks his fingers into yours when he nods, "Yeah."
You smile happily and lean in to kiss him softly, being careful of the mess between the two of you. It was a sweet kiss with a lot of feelings shown behind it, the type that makes you feel butterflies and never forget for a long time because it really meant something.
"'Good. Because I really want to do this again." Even after that kiss and the hottest sex you've ever had in your life, you're still nervous to bring up the idea of a second date but Matt's face just lights up. "Oh I'm definitely taking you out again. Don't worry about that."
He sounds cocky and it makes you laugh, running a hand through his messy hair and making it even messier. "I'm really looking forward to it." Matt pokes at your blushing cheeks with a small smile, appreciating the way you sound so sweet and genuine talking about seeing him again.
It felt hopeful.
There's so much Matt wants to say but now he knew there was more time. This definitely wasn't a one off thing and deep down he knew this wasn't just a crush either. He's not even sure if it ever was just a 'crush' because how could anyone just have a crush on you?
That was impossible.
"Does this mean you'll seduce me into the backseat of your car on the second date?" You joke playfully, holding back your laughter with a silly grin and when Matt laughs, so do you.
"You're an idiot." There’s a pause.
"But if you're lucky," He says lowly once you both stop laughing and you just tilt your head in response, "You'll end up in my bed."
"Is that a promise?"
"Yep."
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homerforsure · 2 months
Text
Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.
"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.
"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."
"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.
Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."
"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.
"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."
"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.
"Yeah, I was."
A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."
"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.
"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."
"Right. He texted me. I remember."
"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.
"You don't like him."
"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."
"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."
Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.
"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.
"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."
"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."
"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.
"I forgot you don't know that."
"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"
"Hmm?"
"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."
"Tommy said that."
"Tommy's right. Come on."
Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"
"Yeah, he just left."
"And we're okay? You like him now?"
Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."
"Good."
He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.
"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.
"Yeah?"
Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.
"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."
"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."
Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.
"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."
Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
Text
never grow up seven
summary: after taking things to long distance, sunny and chris face the highs and lows of their love story. smuttyyyyyy and angstyyy. mentions of depression. some phone sex.
part six
part eight
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Chris’ POV
The first two weeks of me and Sunny were so good. So fucking good. 
We were on such a high, a honeymoon phase I had never experienced before. We were talking consistently, both of us trying our hardest to make time for each other while we continued with our lives as we lived on opposite sides of the country.
One weekend in particular, I was kinda shit about responding, but it really wasn’t my fault. I had a shoot for Fresh Love on Friday, then had to go to an event that night. Saturday, we filmed a collaborative video all day with other YouTubers, and that night we filmed our podcast for Monday. Sunday, I met up with my friends at a music video shoot, and now that it’s Monday again, Sunny is back in classes.
I woke up late from having such a loaded weekend, and when I tried calling her at 1 p.m., she declined my call.
Me: Hey. Are you in class?
Sunshine: at work
Me: Oh
Me: Sorry. I had a crazy weekend. Woke up late because I’m exhausted. Can you talk after work?
Sunshine: i wont get home until midnight and then i have an 8 am tmr.
Sunshine: you didnt have a minute to text at all?
Me: I’m sorry baby
Me: I was really busy
Me: I’m trying to talk now but it’s the time zones fault
Sunshine: yeah
I know she’s upset with me. This is one of those unfortunate things that comes with distance. I’m really trying. When both of us are free, it’s great, and we can talk forever, but when one of us is really busy, it throws everything off. 
My schedule was loaded this weekend, and hers is loaded through the week with her classes and work, so with those combined, we haven’t really talked in a week. 
Me: I love you. Text me when you’re home from work so I can say goodnight
Sunshine: i love you too
I feel like shit. I’m really trying here. I can’t read her tone over text messages, and we haven’t had the time to have a real conversation over the phone. 
We’ll try harder tomorrow.
Sunshine: are u kidding me christopher!!!!
Me: What!!!
Sunshine: what are these flowers for??????
Me: Lol. Surprise
Sunshine: i’m gonna cry
Me: Noooo they weren’t supposed to make you sad
Sunshine: i’m happy! this was just so sweet. i miss you sm 
Me: Can you talk?
She FaceTime’s me instantly. I was never a FaceTime kind of guy. Even though me and my brothers are away from everyone we grew up with, I still was never the kind of person to opt for a FaceTime call. 
With her, I’ll always answer a call so I can see her face.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I smile, watching her place her flowers into a clear vase in her kitchen. I lay down on my bed, tucking a pillow under my chin.
“Hi!” she waves. She’s fucking adorable. “This is so cute, Chris. I had no idea you were doing this!”
“That’s the point of a surpriseeeeeee,” I remind her. “Did you see the card?”
“I did,” she nods, smiling big at me. “Very sweet of you.”
I shrug casually. “I try. How was your day?”
She lets out an exhausted sigh. “Good, but busy. I’ve kinda been feeling like shit lately.”
I sit up straight, pushing the pillow I had been laying on out of the frame. “What? Why didn’t you say something?”
“You’re 3,000 miles away,” she reminds me. “What are you going to be able to do?”
“Listen while you rant, give you advice, give you some encouragement,” I list off for her. “What kind of shit?”
“Just the usual–”
“Sunny!” I interrupt her. “You gotta tell me these things!”
“Well, sorry! I didn’t want to text you, ‘Hey, congrats on all the great stuff you’re doing, I’m super depressed and feel miserable all the time and all I want is my boyfriend to come home and be with me.’ That would only make me feel worse.” 
I frown at her. I don’t want her feeling like she’s going to rain on my parade. 
“I’m okay, Chris,” she assures me. “Promise. I wasn’t feeling too well, but I’m better now.”
“Will you tell me next time? I don’t want you to be alone.”
She nods gently. “Mhm, I’ll tell you.”
“I’ll come back by myself if I have to–”
“No,” she interrupts. “You’re going to stay and do your thing because I need to be able to figure this out myself. You can’t run back to Boston anytime I have an issue.”
“Why not?”
She gives me a ‘come on,’ type look, like I’m being ridiculous. “How was your day?” she asks me instead. 
I lift the camera up so she can see me laying in my bed. “Hasn’t started yet.”
I can see her eyes scanning my body closely, her face inches from her phone as she bites her bottom lip. I know she’s staring at my body. We’ve been feeling more risky about things, sending each other suggestive photos. It’s the only way I can really feel close to her sexually. I never thought I would be sending her, of all people, pictures of my hard dick through my underwear. 
The other night she got me good, sending a picture of herself in the shower, her arm covering her tits, but pressing them into her chest enough for them to look plumper than usual. The water droplets on her skin added more to the photo, sending me into a spiral. 
“Whatcha looking at, babe?” 
She smirked at me through the phone. “The underwear poking out of your sweatpants.”
“Yeah?” I asked, pushing my pants down so she could see my underwear fully. I pulled the bottoms of it down more, seeing that it rode up my thighs as I laid down. 
“Jesus,” she sighed, taking me into her room with her.
“Yeah?” 
I set the phone up on a stray pillow across my bed so she can see my entire body. I press my hand into my dick, palming myself lightly. I immediately feel a rush through my dick, forcing me to shove my hand into my briefs to touch myself.
“I miss you baby,” I nod at her. “Miss your sweet face.” 
She watches me as I stroke my dick, whispering softly in that sweet voice, “I miss you more.”
Not a fucking chance. 
“No shot,” I challenge.
“I promise,” she insists, her doe eyes really doing the trick to convince me. 
I hold my dick still in my fist, shoving my briefs out of the way so she can see me. “You see how much you turn me on, baby?” I ask her, hoping she notices how red my tip is right now from the swelling, not to mention the fact that I have precum leaking out of me like I’m touch starved, probably because I am. 
She lays down on her bed, right on her stomach. She mumbles a “fuck,” as she gets comfortable. “You’re so hot.”
“You are,” I smile, stroking myself faster.
I watch as she pulls her jeans off, lifting her ass in the air for me to see.
I pause for a second as I stare at her lower back, the thong hugging her hips in the most perfect way. I’m contemplating booking a flight right now so I can put my handprints all over that ass.
“Ohhh fuck,” I groan, squeezing around my tip with a tight fist. “You’re perfect.” She smiles at me as she watches my motions, now listening to my groaning sounds as I struggle to keep myself casual.
“Does that feel good?” she asks curiously as she turns over to her back.
“Mhm,” I hum. “Not as good as you.”
She lowers the camera to her pelvis, showing me her hand as it glides down her thong, and settles right over her pussy.
“Oh good girl,” I nod. “Show me how you touch yourself, Sunny.” She lowers the camera even further, settling it between her legs on a pillow somewhere a few inches out. I have a clear shot over her fingers burying themselves in her. A loud moan escapes my lips. “Perfect fucking pussy. All mine, right?”
“Uh huh,” she whimpers.
My cock continues to drip, and I quickly spread the precum across my length. “Talk to me baby. Tell me how much you need me,” I taunt as the sound of me fucking my hand fills the room. “My mouth on your swollen little clit, yeah?”
She nods desperately as she rubs herself faster. “I need you so bad, Chris,” she whines for me. “Stretching me out like before.” 
“Yeah?” I ask, mindlessly bucking my hips so I get the illusion of her pussy as my hand right now, hovering above me as my dick buries itself into her. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” 
I set my phone up next to me, changing the angle slightly so she can see my face and my dick in the same shot. My balls tighten, and I rub them for some sort of release. 
I listen to her pretty moans, using them as fuel to the fire. 
“You’re so pretty, Chris,” she tells me, but I can’t focus on it. I’m moaning so bad, I sound like a fool. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant to myself, my face scrunching in pleasure as she continues to try talking me through it, but my ears are fucking ringing as the release floods through me. “Oh! Shit!” I curse loudly, laying my dick on my stomach and rubbing myself through my orgasm, the cum dripping across my abdomen. 
I keep my eyes on her despite how heavy they feel. My breathing is just as bad. “God, keep going baby,” I encourage her, noticing how badly she’s dripping in front of me and I can’t fucking touch her. 
“I’m close, Chris.”
“Uh huh, you got it.”
The sound of her fingers going in and out of her has me ready for another round. I’m half hard, really debating on going again as I watch her.
“Oh god, Sunny,” I breathe out. She looks fucking beautiful. She always does. “My perfect fucking girl.” She bends her knees, the most perfect shot of her pussy as she cums directly in my vision. “Ohhhh there you go.” She starts panting tirelessly as it drips down her hand. “Good girl. Fuck, I wish I was there to lick you clean baby.”
She looks down at the mess she made and says, “Me too.” Once she cleans herself up and settles back in bed, she asks, “When are you coming home?” 
I wipe my stomach clean and pull on a clean pair of underwear. “I don’t know yet, I answer honestly. “Maybe the end of the month.” She nods at me, and I can tell she’s disappointed. “Soon, I promise.” 
“Okay,” she gives me a half smile. “I have to go change for work.”
I nod, disappointed that our call is coming to an end. “Okay. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”
“I love you,” she says, and that’s the last time I talk to her that day. 
– 
The last few days have been rough. We’re back to barely talking. I feel like shit. I feel guilty, but it’s not my fault. I’m trying, I really am. It’s the time zone. It’s fucking everything up. I sleep in, and by the time I’m up and doing stuff, she’s at work and can’t talk. Then she’s going to bed, and we have like… an hour in the day to talk.
I thought we could make this work. I thought things would fall into place. 
I’ve stayed up every night this week trying to think of how to talk to her about this, but I’m too scared. I keep holding back everything that I feel. 
I’m quite literally shaking as I click on her contact, texting her a quick message. 
Me: Hey. Can you talk?
Sunshine: i’m about to go to bed
Me: Please
A photo of her smiling pops up on my phone with her caller ID on top. I answer the call with a deep breath.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she mumbles. “What’s up?”
“Are you in bed already?”
“Mhm,” she hums. “Long day. Is everything okay?”
No. 
I’ve never been in this position before, and I don’t know how to do this the right way. 
Just rip off the bandaid. 
“I don’t think this is working out,” I say simply. My voice is soft, yet firm.
I hear the rumbling of her bedsheets and then her broken voice. “What?”
Shit. 
That pretty voice that sews me together just ripped me apart. 
“Sunny– I just– I don’t think I can give you what you need,” I say honestly, picking at the subtle rip in my jeans on my thigh. I pull at the fraying material and toss the scraps on the floor. 
“Chris–”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, looking at my ceiling. “I just don’t think it’s fair to keep stringing you along if I know it’s not going to work out.”
I know this isn’t what she wants to hear. I think in the future we could work out, but right now, we’re doomed. I don’t want to have this heartbreaking story when we could prevent it. We were in over our heads. 
“We’ll try harder,” she says.
The desperation in her voice is killing me. “I know this is hard.” Fuck, I’m trying to keep myself together so I don’t back out of this. “But I think it’s better this way.” 
“We can make it work, Chris,” she insists.
I shake my head, trying to keep myself from breaking down. “It’s not that easy. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want and need. Someone who can be there for you, emotionally, and physically… and I can’t do that for you right now. It’s so hard for me not being with you. I just want to hold you and be with you and I can’t, Sunny. I want to come home and be with you everyday but I need to be in LA.” The line is silent, and I know she’s going to make this hard for me. I deserve it, but she deserves the truth. “I really want this, but I can’t give it to you right now, and it’s not fair for either of us.”
The only conversations we’ve had this last week are us arguing or sexting. That’s not how this should be.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” she asks hesitantly. I know she’s scared of the answer.
I let out a heavy sigh, my hand running through my hair and tugging on it. “A little bit. I don’t know how long, but I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings and–”
“And you didn’t tell me you were having doubts?!” she asks accusingly. 
“It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about it with you. I just– Fuck, Sunny– This is difficult and–”
“How is it difficult!” she asks. “I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to be the easiest person for you to talk to.”
“I know,” I agree with her, but does she not realize how fucking hard it is knowing that the one person I’m trying to be open with is the person who is going to face the damage? “That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t want to lose you as a friend too.”
She ignores my point. 
“Why did you start a relationship with me then? You started this, Chris.”
I mean, she kissed me, but alright. 
I’m too in shock at her tone and fight for this to think of anything to say. 
“I… I didn’t mean to,” I stumble over my words. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought we could make it work.” 
“Then let’s make it work.”
I roll my lips into my mouth, trying to keep myself from crying. The sound of her voice is destroying me. “Maybe we can, but right now I just need some time to think.”
“How much time?” she asks. 
“I don’t know. A few days, maybe? A week?”
She scoffs. “Chris, if you have to think about if you want me or not then–”
“I said I need time to think, Sunny,” I remind her. “I’m not making any decisions right now.”
“But you’re questioning us to begin with! You said you’ve felt like this for a while so what’s there to think about!”
“Baby–”
“Don’t,” she says sharply. 
I pace my room, a pit in my stomach growing. This is fucking awful. “I said I can’t right now.” 
I hear a soft cry from her end, and I freeze. “Please, don’t do this.”
My eyes well with tears. “I’m so sorry. I really am. But I can’t be in this with you if I’m feeling doubts. I just need to figure things out, and maybe we can work it out.”
Something in her switches and all those tears and sadness turn into anger. 
“So you fuck me after we’re friends for our whole lives. Then you leave without a word. Then you come back and say you’re in love with me, fuck me again, and then leave and want me to move on and be with other people. Oh wait! But then!” she continues. I just stand there in the middle of my room and let her rip me apart through the phone. “You want me to be with you and we’re happy and great and then you drop this and say you’ve been unhappy and want to break up?”
Yeah… So, I sound like shit. 
My eyes narrow as I grip my phone. “That’s not fair,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t force you into anything, and I’m not trying to hurt you.” 
“But you made me feel wanted by you!”
“I do want you!” I remind her. “But this isn’t about what we want, it’s about what I need right now.”
She pauses and lowers her voice. “Do you need me?”
I hate myself for the way I hesitate to answer her.
“Yes, I do.”
I can almost hear the sigh of relief in her voice.
“But not in the way you’re asking.” 
Then I hear her cries. At this point, I’m breaking down with her. 
“Is there anything I can do to make this work?” she asks again.
“No. There’s nothing you can do.”
I sit on my bed, listening to her cry, and I feel awful knowing that I can’t wipe those tears like I always do. 
“I love you so much Chris,” she says desperately.
I wipe the tears that fall down my own cheeks. “I love you too, but I can’t be with you like this. Not right now.”
“Are we still going to be friends?” she asks. “Or are you going to go ghost again for four months?”
“I’m not going to ghost you,” I assure her. I fucked up that time, I really did, but I thought it’s what we needed. That time of no contact to figure ourselves out. It clearly made things worse. “I think we need some space though, just for a little bit.”
She’s pissed. It’s obvious. She’s gone from trying to talk me into staying with her, to now saying nothing at all. 
“Look,” I say, trying to keep myself from sounding like a broken record. “I get that you’re hurt and disappointed, but I need to do this. I can’t keep going through this cycle of wanting you and then pulling away from you because I’m scared. I need to get to a place where I feel secure with you and I know we can make it work. Right now, it’s not that time.” 
All I want right now is to hold her, kiss her, tell her it’s going to be okay. I want to lay next to her and smile at her before we go to bed. I want to be with her forever, never losing sight of each other.
But if we keep trying to force this relationship, we’re only going to ruin everything. 
“I wish I could hate you,” she sobs. “I really do. But I could never hate you, Chris, and that’s the worst part.”
“I’m sorry,” I keep saying to her. The pain in my voice only becomes more evident. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I’m always going to be in love with you, and you’re always going to know it.”
I sigh heavily. “I know. And that’s part of the problem.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I say, pausing to find the right words. “I can’t be with you like this. I need to figure myself out first.” 
“You started this!” she says again. 
“I know.” My voice is heavy with guilt. “And I’m sorry.”
“Are you even upset about this?” she questions. “I’m sitting here fucking crying and it’s like your emotions are shut off! Give me something, Chris!”
“Of course I’m upset!” I raise my voice in frustration. “You want to hear me cry? I never meant to hurt you like this.”
“THEN STOP!” she screams.
“I’M TRYING!” I yell back, my eyes rimmed with tears. “I can’t keep having this conversation. I’m sorry, but we need to break up.”
The line goes silent again. 
“Please,” I plead with her. “Just say something.”
After a minute of silence she says, “I love you, and I hope you can get your shit together. If not for me, then hopefully for the next girl so you don’t fuck her over the same way.”
I sit staring at my floor. I don’t know what to say that will fix this or give her the same hope I feel for us. I do want this. All I’ve ever wanted was her. I just can’t do it right now. It’s not the right time. 
I’ve dreamt of marrying this girl, and the idea of us having the wrong timing is terrifying me. It needs to be perfect, and it’s just not right now. 
“I’m sorry,” I say finally, my voice thick with emotion as I try not to break down again. “I really am.”
I expect more fight from her considering she wouldn’t back down before. 
I don’t get that.
“Goodbye.”
I’m torn between heartbreak, confusion, and anger. 
“Goodbye.” 
tag list : @mbbsgf @mattbrainrot @mattsneezing @r6diosturns @thottie777 @obscurechris @plasticferal @angelworldspost @alluringsturniolo @sleepysturnss @sturniolovoid @struniolos @skyeteller @sturniololol @sturniololoverr @flowerxbunnie @gamermattsgf @lunarsturniolo @luvsturniolo @lacysturniolo @luvmila444 @christinarowie332 @bellybumm @bernardenjoyer @n6ptunova @pepsiskiess @luverboychris @mattitties @sturnioloobsessed @sturnsbaby @sturnsblunt @sturnsreader @sturnsiolos0 @sturnswift
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borathae · 4 months
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↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]
"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."
Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut
Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*
Wordcount: 5.3k
a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡
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“Hey there.”
Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.
“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.
You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.
“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.
“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”
“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”
“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”
You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.
“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.
“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”
“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.
He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.
“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”
“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”
“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”
“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”
“Where is he? Still at the studio?”
“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”
“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”
“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.
“Yeah?”
“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”
Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”
“Didn’t you curse at him too?”
“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”
You and he laugh.
“Totally understandable”, you joke.
“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Please, it’s on the house.”
“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”
You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.
“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.
“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.
You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”
“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”
“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”
“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”
“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”
“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”
“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.
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You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.
“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.
“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”
“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”
“Nice! Enjoy them!”
“I will!”
The lights turn green again.
“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.
Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.
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The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.
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Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.
“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.
Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.
“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”
You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.
Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.
“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.
The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.
“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”
Bam follows.
“Sit.”
Bam follows.
“Good boy. Wait.”
Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.
“Wait.”
He doesn’t move.
“Wait.”
He doesn’t move.
“Release.”
Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.
“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”
You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.
“Sweetie! I’m home!”
“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.
He retorts it, hugging you.
“How was your day?”  he asks you.
“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”
“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”
You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.
“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”
“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”
“That’s actually crazy.”
“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”
“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”
“I’m so hungry already.”
“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”
“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.
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You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.
“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”
The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.
“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”
“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”
“Yeah.”
You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.
“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.
“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.
“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”
“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.
After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.
“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.
“Yeah?”
“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”
“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”
You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”
“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”
“I said the same thing.”
You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.
Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.
“I think he needs to shit”, he says.
“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”
“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”
Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”
“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”
“See you, honey.”
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Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.
“Come in!”
He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.
“How was the walk?”
“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”
“He’s so cute.”
“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."
You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”
“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork. 
Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.
“Hey”, he laughs.
You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.
“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.
“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”
“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.
You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.
You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.
Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.
“And now?” he asks.
“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”
“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”
“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”
“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”
“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”
“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”
“You can?” you ask seductively.
“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.
You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.
“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.
“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.
“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.
You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.
By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.
Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.
“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.
“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”
“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”
“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”
“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”
“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.
And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.
You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.
“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.
“More fun than this?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”
“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”
“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.
“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”
You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.
“Is that good for you?”
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Okay then, get ready.”
“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.
You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.
Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.
“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze. 
It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.
“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.
“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.
“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.
You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.
“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.
“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”
“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now. 
“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”
“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.
“Fuck.”
“Good?” 
“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”
“Can I try your tip? Just to see.” 
Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.
“Good?”
“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.” 
“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”
“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”
His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.
“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.
“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.” 
You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”
“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.” 
“There?”
Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.
“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”
“Fuck, oh fuck.”
“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.” 
“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”
“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy. 
“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.
“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.
He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”
You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”
“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”
You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”
Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.
“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.
You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.
“Count to three for me”, he whispers.
“One.”
Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.
“T-two.”
Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.
“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.
Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.
“Jungkook….”
Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.
The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.
“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.
“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.
“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”
“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.
Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.
“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say. 
“Yeah? What do you need changed?”
“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs. 
“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.
“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.
You jolt up, arching your back.
“Woah.”
“Good?” 
“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”
Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.
“Fuck yes, ah like this.”
“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”
“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.
“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction. 
“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.
Thud.
It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.
“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice. 
You nod your head.
“Should we try circles too?”
You nod your head again.
Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs. 
“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.
“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy. 
“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”
“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck. 
“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.” 
“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”
“Keep talking, holy fuck.”
“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”
“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.” 
“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.
“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt. 
“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing. 
“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.
You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.
“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…” 
Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.
“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again. 
As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.
“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.
Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss. 
You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.
“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.
“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.” 
“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”
Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses. 
You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.
“So this was amazing”, he whispers 
“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”
“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”
“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.
“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”
He chuckles and pecks your lips.
“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.
“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”
“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.
“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”
Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”
“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter. 
538 notes · View notes
lovingyoulovinme · 1 year
Text
part 3 of childhood best friends!charles&y/n
part 1 part 2
ynupdates
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3,838 likes
ynupdates Y/N today in Monaco!
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user1 so good to see her again 🥹 it's feels like it's been years since she deleted her socials
ylnleclerc she's home in monaco 🥰
user4 hey this is my pic haha she was super nice when i talked to her and she said she's doing really well after i asked how she was! she was with joris and another one of her friends
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user7 JORIS? AS IN CHARLES' JORIS????
September 14, 2023
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joris_trouche
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Liked by charles_leclerc and 32,388 others
joris_trouche Princess of Monaco has returned
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user3 moving back to monaco..hanging with joris...charles liking this post...i could cry
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user6 i need pictures of them together now im so serious joris open up that camera roll or i'll fight
ylnleclerc MY ANGEL
ynstan tell her to come back to instagram please please
user8 charles liked this so fast oh wow 😭😭
September 19, 2023
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yourinstagram
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Liked by pierregasly and 232,839 others
yourinstagram the past 2 months at home 🧸
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ylnleclerc CHARLESFJDBSJENEKRNRIRBSIENDI
user1 WE ARE SO BACK WE ARE SOOOOOOOO BACK
ynstan wife is back on instagram 🥹🥹🥹🥹
user4 not them lowkey getting exposed by that guy on twitter that met charles a few days ago jdbdnssn
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user12 why are we not talking about how he said they were so close that it seemed like they were dating...
charles_leclerc Can you follow me back now?
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yourinstagram i should block you again for locking me out of the house
charles_leclerc It was an accident 🏃‍♀️
ynstan are these bitches living together 😧
user11 the world is healing global warming has ended birds are chirping flowers are blooming
charlesfan i literally cant believe this is real i keep thinking im dreaming
user5 she was back in monaco for two months and no one knew until recently 😭
arthur_leclerc 🥰🥰
September 25, 2023
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charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Good Saturday. Now let's push for a good Sunday 🙃
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yourinstagram superstar 🫶
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user2 still the most supportive ever :( <3
charles_leclerc if i win will you follow me back?
yourinstagram maybe 😋
user3 bravo amore ❤️
f1 🙌
joris_trouche You better win for that y/n follow 🤣
charlesfan YOU GOT THIS KING
ynleclerc y/n still not following him is the funniest thing ever when you consider the fact that they are 100% dating
October 1, 2023
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yourinstagram
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yourinstagram forever boy turns 26 today 🥹 i've loved you three (eleven*) summers!!!! and i want em all!!!!!
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pascale.leclerc.355 Enfin 🫶 (finally)
user4 soulmates 😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris #HappyCharlesDay
charles_leclerc Je t'aimerai à jamais. (i will love you forever)
charles_leclerc Thank you for the follow back
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yourinstagram anything for my fans ❤️
danielricciardo Happy birthday Charlie
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yourinstagram only i can call him that back off 😒
user2 "forever boy" i'm sobbing my eyes out
arthur_leclerc Last picture 🤣
charlesfan ELEVEN SUMMERS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
October 16, 2023
tags: @nothernlights19 @kavyaas-world @aldene-styles @bbymelsworld @willowpains @fangirlika @saturnsrinqs @escapism-writer @scharter @moonlightts2 @christianpulisic10 @buendiabebeta @haloxmendes @p4st3lst4rs @lunamelona @vita-di-moda @honethatty12 @deviltsunoda @spencerrxids @gentlemonsterjennie1 @i83andrew @lovely-blackinnon @champomiel @wavesnotfeelings @elijahslover @angelwithoutmywings @justsayk @f1-incorrect-s @stop-calling-me-willhelm @mjaudrey @keonminshea @destourtereaux
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stevieschrodinger · 2 months
Text
Link to Part One Part Two Part Three
TW Human trafficking discussions of injury
Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.
Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.
Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.
She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.
“Happy now, Steve?”
Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”
“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”
“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”
She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”
Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.
She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”
Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”
“The FBI.”
Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”
Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”
They stare at each other for a long moment.
The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”
It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.
“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.
Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.
She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”
“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”
“Why is he at yours?”
“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”
Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”
Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”
“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”
Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.
Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”
But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.
He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”
Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”
Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”
Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”
Part five
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imdead770 · 6 months
Text
The Outsiders x Reader Headcannons
♡ Random things the gang would do if you dated them ♡
Darry -
He's fixing everything for you. Your shelf broke? Give him 15 minutes. Your car broke? He'll get Sodapop to fix it up for you. Your heart broke? He's fixing it. This man is Fix-it Felix.
I feel like he wouldn't be the biggest PDA guy, but if you're both alone, he's probably holding you in some way shape or form. Your back against his chest, your head on his shoulder with his arm around you, it's happening and he's perfectly happy with it.
Sodapop -
I don't know why, but I feel like Sodapop picked a specific night for both of you to just spend time together and relax. Probably a Saturday night since he won't have to worry about work. It's just a night where you sit together, eat ice cream, and watch a movie. He'll hold you and quietly talk to you, randomly peppering kisses on your face.
^ this makes me so lovesick holy shit ^
This man is HUGE on pda. He'll hold your hand, have his arm around your waist, kiss your forehead. As long as you're comfortable with it, he'll shower you with affection 25/8
Ponyboy -
He WILL watch sunsets with you. He'll take your hand, run you outside to his porch and sit on the steps with you. Your head rested on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.
" You were right Pony.. it's beautiful.. "
" Not as beautiful as you.. "
I know it's cliche but stfu
I feel like he isn't really used to PDA, so he doesn't really initiate it. But the moment you do anything, from holding his jaw as you kiss him to entertwining your fingers with his, his heart melts. With a bit of time, he'll return the favor, he just needs to get comfortable.
Johnny -
I don't know if this is accurate, but I feel like he'd bring you flowers. No reason, he just wanted to bring his girl flowers. He'll bring you your favorite if he can. If he can't find some he'll pick the prettiest ones he can find. You had to buy a vase for just how often he brings you flowers.
We all know this boy is shy, but I feel like once he warms up to you PDA is just normal. Not big PDA like Soda, but he likes holding your hand in public. In private he'll hold you against him, play with your hair, the whole thing.
Dallas -
He takes you to so many of Buck's parties it's not even funny. You're bored? He'll take you to go dance. You're stressed? He'll sit at the bar and drink with you. You don't drink? Well shit.
☆ On the dancing note, he's not a huge dancer, but he'll stand beside you to make sure nobody steps out of line. He also 100% watches your ass while you sway your hips. Probably grinds if we're being honest.
On the PDA side, he isn't big on it, in public or in private. Gotta maintain that tough guy image. He might have his hand in your back pocket or around your hip. In private he won't be big on it at first, but after a bit he might hold you. Not like hold-hold, but he'll put his arms around you.
Two-Bit -
I swear on my life, this man will throw the worst pick-up lines at you. He doesn't care that you're already dating, he'll do it.
" Yknow, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber. "
" Two-Bit, I love you, but shut the fuck up. "
PDA wise, he'll do it. That's about it. He'll do it. He wouldn't make out with you on the spot, but he'll hold you, kiss you on the cheek, whatever. He'll do it.
Steve -
He'd try to bake with you. This isn't a regular thing, but I think since he likes chocolate cake so damn much, he'd decide to make it. He just decided to bring you along for the ride. To summarize it, it was a mess.
" Steve.. when did that milk expire? "
" Says.. December, why? "
" What year, Steve. "
" ... Ohhh.. "
This mf is just a leveled-down Dallas ( in the best way possible ). He acts all tough/tuff but would do subtle acts. Hands around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, the basics. In private he'd definitely hold you, though.
I love them all so much
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader
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playlist one two three four five six seven eight
childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader
"-don't you have your own clothes?" you smiled in amusement, laid down on your bed as your best friend rummaged through your wardrobe, tossing things aside and mumbling to herself.
"yes but i have nothing to wear! like i told you before i came over here, keep up!" rory turned around and clapped at you making your eyes roll as you sat up and sipped at your drink.
"you my dear however are wearing this!" a few items of clothing hit you in the face as rory tossed them over her shoulder. "i thought we were just going to dinner?" you sighed as you peeled them off, the clothes in question a short black dress and an oversized black blazer for over the top.
"we are! but if we maybe end up somewhere else afterwards...we need to be dressed to show we're open to that." rory grinned with a wink as you only shook your head, having known her long enough to know there wasn't any point in arguing with the hard headed girl.
"so i saw that alessia followed you on instagram." rory mentioned casually, continuing her furious hunt through your clothing as you started to neatly fold everything she'd tossed aside in doing so.
"why are you stalking people again on social media? i thought we had this conversation ro!" you tutted, the girl notoriously known for a deep dive.
"i wasn't stalking! i just so happened to be looking for that picture of us when i visited you in australia and went to the beach which i know you posted. then i saw that our mutual followers had gained one and it was her." rory tried to defend, glancing at you over her shoulder as you fixed her with a look making her eyes roll.
"thought you two hadn't spoke in years?" "our mums reconnected, been to a few family dinners, we're talking again." "thats all i get?" "thats all you get because thats all it is!" you smacked her in the face with a tank top before putting it away, rory finally pulling a dress out she deemed acceptable and making a noise of happiness.
"well thats nice. it always was a shame you guys drifted and stopped speaking, you were inseparable growing up its always been super weird being friends with you both when you're not friends with each other." rory admitted, not ever having a clue you and alessia dated as most of your mutual friends had never known, grabbing your favourite brown leather jacket as you grabbed her wrist.
"you can wear this ro but i swear to god if you drop even a crumb of food on it we will no longer be friends."
~
"this feels illegal! it's a sunday!" you laughed, head buzzing and slightly tipsy as you and rory skipped through town hand in hand, off to your third bar of the evening.
"but you don't have work tomorrow so really it's more like a saturday!" rory grinned, london seeming to agree as the night life was no lesser on a sunday than it was any other night of the weekend, bars all packed out with drunkenly happy patrons.
"where are we even going?" you laughed as you stumbled, rory catching you and slinging an arm around your shoulders as she marched you both on with seemingly a clear destination and purpose.
"okay don't hate me, but we're going to test my skills as a wing woman." rory grinned, squeezing your cheeks together in her hand as she yanked you around a corner and into the line for yet another bar.
"no! no we are not." you shook your head firmly, trying to leave as her hands planted themselves on your shoulders, pushing you forward and toward the door.
"yes we are! you haven't slept with anyone since that horrid cow in australia and i love you so much but you're so fucking tense. you need a shag!" she kissed your cheek, the bouncer looking the two of you over and nodding for you to go inside.
"and just how do you know that! you don't know the ins and outs of my sex life rory." you scowled as she continued to push you toward the bar, the small venue cramped with people, majority crowded around the darts area on the other side of the room.
"what sex life?" rory teased, waving over the bartender as you scoffed and punched her arm. "can't believe you invited me out just to pimp me out, some friend!" you accused somewhat playfully.
"okay so you don't have to sleep with someone but what's wrong with a cheeky kiss? let your hair down baby! you're young, sexy and single." rory purred, shaking her shoulders suggestively and making you shake your head with undeniable amusement at her horrid dance skills.
"four jager bombs please." and with those buzzing through your head, you allowed yourself to be pulled onto the dance floor.
~
"ro you are the worst wing woman ever. that guy was like fifty and balding and that girl had a wedding ring on!" you managed to get out an hour later, now bordering on drunk as you clutched your stomach which was aching from how hard you were laughing.
"well i obviously didn't know that, i thought it was just a ring! queer woman love their rings." rory laughed, collapsing into you as the two of you huddled together on a table in the smokers area.
"see!" she held up your hands and pointed to the five rings scattered about your fingers. "hey if we're using that logic." you moved to grab her hands, pointing to her rings which only made the two of you laugh harder as rory extinguished her cigarette and the two of you returned inside.
"okay. what about him?" "no! balding again." "her?" "definitely straight." "him?" "definitely gay."
"her?" you glanced to the girl at the bar rory was obnoxiously pointing at, smacking down her hand with a laugh, though the sound died in your throat as the girl in question turned around and you recognized the blonde who was with her her right away.
"is that alessia?" rory gasped, already practically running over to the girl as you tried to grab her but it was too late. "rory!" you hissed, having no choice but to follow after her.
"less!" the blonde looked up, just having a second to put her drink down on the table and stand to her feet before rory launched at her. "oh my god! hi?" alessia beamed at her school friend, embracing her in a tight hug as you awkwardly hovered a few feet away.
you couldn't hear what else was said between them but you knew you'd been mentioned the moment alessia's head shot up, looking around until she saw you, rory already stumbling over and grabbing your hand.
"rory no i really don't think-" you started to quietly disagree but before you could finish your sentence you were at their table, multiple pairs of eyes boring up at you as you felt the back of your neck prickle uncomfortably.
rory introduced you both as you forced a smile and gave the group of girls a wave, only recognizing a few of them from when alessia played in the youth groups. "we went to school with alessia." rory explained, subtly pinching you as you still remained silent, nodding along with her words.
"well friends of less's are friends of ours, especially locals!" a girl you'd not met beamed, inviting the two of you to join them. "oh i'm sure they have their own plans!" alessia tried to save you, catching your eye and immediately noticing you were uncomfortable.
"oh we did but they backfired tremendously, turns out i am a terrible wing woman!" rory joked, pinching your cheek and yanking you down into a seat as you forced a laugh. one by one the girls introduced themselves as rory settled right in, joking around as if she'd known them for years.
"well well well, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes y/l/n!" you settled a little as you realised the body squishing in beside you was one you at least knew, ella pulling you into a hug. "all grown up now though!" the brunette joked, bumping her shoulder into yours as the two of you fell into conversation.
you could feel alessia's eyes bore into you from across the table where she sat, constantly glancing over to make sure you were okay. which is why it came to no surprise when you excused yourself to get another drink that she followed.
"i'm really really sorry, i genuinely had no idea you'd come here." the blonde apologized right away, eyes wide as the two of you hovered in a corner by the bar away from prying eyes. seeing the obvious guilt written on her face and not wanting to ruin her night you placed a hand on her arm.
"i don't own the night life in london less, you're more than entitled to go out wherever you want with your friends. i won't lie and say it didn't take me off guard a little though." you admitted with a somewhat awkward smile which the taller girl returned.
"i appreciate that you tried to redivert though. but we both know rorys quite the social butterfly!" you were quick to assure, having appreciated her attempt to let you leave and enjoy your own night.
"is this weird? because i can make some sort of excuse or distraction or something so we leave." the blonde worried, biting down on her bottom lip.
"no! no no please don't feel you have to do that, you deserve to enjoy your night with your friends. look it is a little bit awkward but friends do run into one another on nights out." you shook your head, nodding for the two of you to get a drink.
"don't even try it, i warned you next time i was paying." you joked in an attempt to lighten the somewhat tense energy between the two of you as were quick to pay for her drink,
"wouldn't have thought you were a gin girl." alessia smiled, nodding to the g&t in your hand. "rory's had me on jager and red wine all night, the gins a very welcome reprise." you sighed, the both of you sharing a small chuckle before someone pressed in between you.
"well hello there miss y/l/n." leah grinned at you, your cheeks going bright red at the obvious catching out. "failed to mention you two knew each other when you helped with the football sessions at the school less. care to explain?" she questioned, fixing the younger girl with a pointed look before ordering her own drink.
"we went to school together leah, there isn't anything to explain!" alessia shoved her playfully. "mm i think the lies call for a make up shot of apology." leah grinned wickedly, nodding to the three tequila shots in front of her.
you and alessia sharing a look leah wasted no time doing her own, gesturing for the two of you to hurry up as you sighed but placed your drink down, grabbing the shot in one hand and a lime wedge in the other.
"jesus christ!" you wheezed as the alcohol burnt its way down your throat. "leah no!" alessia groaned as the blonde ordered another round, her arm slinging over your shoulder as she grinned. "ah come on mate, live a little." she teased the striker beside her.
"was she this much of a drip in school?" leah whispered to you, purposefully loud as alessia shot her a glare. "no she's just never been able to hold her alcohol." you smiled, your head spinning from the first shot as leah let out a loud laugh and the two of you threw back the second, alessia following suit with a grimace.
"i like you." leah winked, smacking you on the back as the three of you returned to the table. your previous seat now occupied you found yourself sat beside alessia, pulled into a conversation with a couple of her other friends.
the alcohol flowing and all the girls incredibly welcoming your previous apprehension melted away and you found yourself much more settled. though really you could probably attribute that to the copious amounts of drinks bought for you.
which is how you now found yourself on the dance floor, singing along and dancing with rory as leah, ella and another two of their friends chloe and jess all joined in, some of alessia's group having called it a night and heading off having early flights.
"careful, you're looking a bit green there less." lotte mumbled to the blonde, whose eyes were fixated on you dancing now with chloe, in what could only be described as quite an intimate way. "what?" the striker frowned in confusion at the older girls words, though catching on her cheeks heated up a little and she smacked her leg.
"i told you lotte, we're friends and i'm grateful she's even allowed that. she can do whatever she wants." alessia shrugged, lying to herself and lotte who only hummed, turning back to her conversation with beth.
though as you slipped on your footing and went tumbling to the floor she was right to her feet, hovering for a moment as she watched ella and leah help you up.
"come on russo don't be a stick in the mud!" rory suddenly popped into her line of sight, grabbing alessia's hands as she swiveled her hips with a wink, dragging her onto the dance floor.
alessia shrunk a little in disappointment seeing you were no longer with the group, instead engaged in a conversation with a tall tattooed brunette a few metres away. "maybe not such a shit wing woman after all!" rory joked making a w with her fingers and gesturing to you as alessia forced a smile and a nod.
her eyes never left you as the brunette leaned in closer, the music loud as you giggled at whatever she said, her hands finding your hips and swaying the two of you back and forth.
alessia's stomach lurched at the way you grinned up at her, your eyes locked with hers and seemingly hanging off of her every word, nodding along as the brunette seemed to dominate the conversation.
the same way you used to look up at her, laughing at her jokes and hanging off of her every word. as alessia would stare right back down at you as if you were the only person in the room, because to her you'd always be the only one that ever mattered.
suddenly feeling a wave of nausea came washing over her she mumbled an excuse and darted off to the bathroom, ducking down and dabbing her cheeks with cold water, closing her eyes for a moment as the room spun.
"hey less you alright?" the striker jumped a half foot in the air at the voice of her captain, not having heard anyone follow after her. "yeah fine, just needed a sec to cool off." alessia smiled, trying to leave as leah grabbed her wrist, giving her a knowing look.
"hey, tell me whats happened."
~
having spent the last twenty minutes explaining everything to leah alessia almost welcomed the sticky atmosphere of the dance floor, a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable intimacy of pouring her heart out to her friend in the tiny bathroom.
leah wandering back to the table alessia tried to follow but ella pulled her back in to dance with them, pulling the puppy dog eyes and the excuse she flew back to manchester tomorrow and alessia owed her at least a few more dances.
and as much as she'd missed her boisterous best friend, it was you that her mind routinely drifted to, eyes flickering to where you now sat with the brunette from before, who still seemed to be talking your ear off.
everything seemed fine, and alessia began to try and accept that she soon would have to swallow her pride and watch you likely leave with this girl, no right or room to make any move to stop you.
but as the hours ticked away and the glasses on your table began to pile up, she wasn't the only one watching you cautiously as it appeared you could now hardly hold your head up, rory making her way over to interevene.
"hey, nearly ready to go?" you looked up through hooded eyes at your best friend who seemed to have grown a second head. "ro ro!" you slurred out with a grin, your head slumping to the shoulder of the gorgeous brunette beside you whose name seemed to escape you.
"she's fine, you and your friends should go." the girl smiled, though it didn't seem all that friendly as rory hummed, knowing you were far too drunk to be consenting to anything right now. "we will, but she's coming with us." rory spoke somewhat forcefully, you only giggling as your head lulled back and the room span.
alessia watched the whole interaction carefully, humming every now and then as ella rambled on beside her. she was content to let rory take the lead, however as the girl tried to help you up and the brunette beside her shoved her away, your head suddenly flying forward and crashing onto the table, she could no longer be a bystander.
"she can hardly keep her eyes open, she's leaving with us. so fuck off!" rory warned firmly, alessia squatting down and gently pulling you up to sit again, her hands shoved away by the brunette who you collapsed into with a laugh.
"do you want to leave with them love? aren't we having fun?" the girl asked you as you mumbled something incoherent.
"don't fucking touch her! she's practically passed out and she can't even say her own name let alone yes or no to your advances you creep. so unless you'd like us to call over security i suggest you walk away while you still can." alessia warned protectively, standing up tall and glowering over the brunette as rory slipped in to gently help you to your feet.
"whatever. she's not even worth it anyway!" the brunette scoffed, standing and walking away as alessia balled her fists, withholding the urge to run after her and knock some sense and respect into her, a feeling she'd not had in years, not even when she was pushed around on the football pitch.
"shit!" alessia hurried to grab you as rory tripped over her footing, also having had one too many drinks as noble as her intentions were as the two of you almost went crashing to the ground. "stay here for a second, i'll be right back." alessia helped you sit back down, leaning into rory who sat beside you and nodded.
"everything alright?" leah asked with a concerned gaze over her shoulder toward you. "they've both had way too much to drink and i can't let them get in a taxi like that alone." alessia smiled apologetically as she grabbed her bag, leah, lotte and beth all nodding in agreement.
exchanging hugs with her remaining friends and promising a stroppy ella that she would come and see her and mary in manchester the next weekend she could she hurried back to the two of you, leah following behind to help her get the two of you out the front.
"thank you leah, really." alessia hugged the older girl tightly once the two of you were safely sat in a taxi. "remember what i said yeah? right person, wrong time. if its meant to be, it'll be. if it's not, cherish what you had." leah reminded softly, kissing the strikers cheek and returning inside.
"where's your place less?" rory managed to get out, somehow having given the driver her own address as alessia gave the same. "i can't remember where she lives." rory winced, nodding to you who was now passed out entirely, face smushed against the cold window pane of the taxi, body curled into itself.
"i live a few streets away, she can stay at mine. i'm a bit worried leaving her by herself if she falls down and hits her head or something." alessia bit down on her bottom lip as rory could only nod, hardly able to keep her eyes open.
"you could stay too if you wanted?" alessia offered, reaching forward to tap her shoulder as the driver pulled away. "s'fine. my boyfriends home!" rory slurred with a shrug, alessia nodding and settling into her seat, glancing to you every now and then.
"we needa do breakfast or dinner or something!" rory stumbled out of the taxi as it arrived to her place, blowing alessia a kiss and making her way up the driveway, alessia requesting the driver wait till she got inside before driving off, nodding for him to go once she had.
the drive to her own house a little further away from town alessia's eyes fluttered closed as she crossed her arms over her chest, exhaustion starting to sink in as the time neared one thirty in the morning.
she jolted a little in surprise as something came crashing into her, but she relaxed seeing it was only you, your head resting on her arm as alessia carefully lifted your head and stretched out, allowing you to lean into her much more comfortably as her eyes slipped closed again.
she blinked tiredly as she felt the car come to a stop, rubbing her cheek and leaning forward, clumsily tapping her phone to pay for the ride, not even bothering to look how much it was.
"okay." she sighed looking down at you, popping her door open and carefully sliding out, propping you to lean back into the seat as she did. leaning in she unbuckled you, cradling your head in one arm as the other helped you out, balancing your shorter form which crumbled into her side as she kicked the door closed and walked toward her front door.
the stairs proving much too difficult she mumbled a soft apology well aware you had no idea what was going on, lifting you up and into her arms as she carried you up and to her doorstep as you mumbled incoherently.
setting you back down and rummaging through her bag she grabbed her keys, helping you inside and setting you to sit on her lounge. "lessi!" you managed out with a lopsided smile, eyes opening a little more as your head tilted to the side and you squinted up at her.
"yeah, its me." she smiled back, unable to resist as she ran a hand through your hair affectionately, moving your flyaways out of your face. but snapping out of it she snatched her hand back as if it had been burned, hurrying to lock her front door.
"okay, come on. bedtime!" alessia sighed, hauling you up and helping you to the spare bedroom, grateful she only lived in a single story apartment which meant no stairs. "we can't go to bed! we're not dating anymore silly." you slurred, poking her cheek.
ignoring your remark she sat you down, smiling a little as you laid down with a thump, star fishing in the bed as alessia wrestled your boots off. "okay. theres no way you can consent to this, how do we get you dressed?" alessia mumbled to herself chewing on her bottom lip, tapping her foot as your eyes slipped closed again.
noticing your dress was strapless an idea came to mind as she left you for a moment to pop to her own room, grabbing you some clothes to sleep in. "hey, we gotta get you changed." the blonde whispered softly, squatting down and tapping your leg, your eyes fluttering open as you nodded and forced yourself to sit up.
even though it was hours away alessia was already dreading the moment you'd wake up, knowing all too well the feelings of regret and embarassment which would likely flood your body. only selfishly she hoped unlike her you'd not run away before she woke up.
carefully slipping a large shirt on over you alessia helped you stand for a moment, tugging the strapless dress down and quickly helping you to step into a pair of shorts, leaving your bra and underwear on.
knowing the worst way to wake up was hungover with a face full of makeup it was to the ensuit she gently guided you to next, sitting you down on the lid of the toilet as she grabbed out the makeup wipes which always sat in here for when her friends stayed over.
"lessi!" you managed out again as she squatted down between your legs, gently holding your chin in one hand and wiping away your makeup with the other. "thats me." she promised with a smile as you hummed, closing your eyes as she wiped away your mascara, trying to be as soft as she could.
"missed you." you giggled, kicking her lightly as alessias smile turned a little more pained, knowing it was only the alcohol talking. "i missed you too." she still spoke quietly, popping the dirty wipes in the bin and sighing, her heart aching at the sight of you sat before her in her clothes, in her house, yet you were as far away from hers as you possibly could be.
helping you up and into bed she flicked off the main light, leaving the lamp on in case you tried to go to the bathroom later, pulling the duvet up to cover you in the dimly lit room.
"hey! stay." your hand shot out and grabbed hers as she turned to leave, eyes widening as yours remained squinted toward her. "you need to sleep." she forced another pained smile, gently pulling her hand out of your grip.
"stay lessi. please!" you whined now, rolling over and repeatedly patting the empty space beside you, looking up at her with a drunken pout. "i can't. you'd hate me if i did." she smiled sadly, running another hand through your hair, forehead warm to the touch.
"no. stay." you demanded again, though a little more tiredly as you patted the empty bed, eyes half closed as alessia hesitated, her entire body screaming for her to just walk away, and she should have, she knew that.
but, she didn't.
still dressed in the suit pants and vest alessia had gone out in she slipped in beside you, body tensing as you were quick to cuddle into her, tucking your face into her neck. "night lessi." you slurred out, hardly legible as you hugged her tightly, alessia slowly moving her arms to wrap around your midsection, doing her best to ignore the little voice in the back of her head screaming at her to get up and go.
but selfishly, she would take what she could.
your body eventually slumped into bed, breathing evening out as you finally fell back to sleep, alessia ever so gently prying your arms off of her, slipping back out of the bed.
if you noticed you didn't even stir, stretching out in bed with a deep exhale, mouth slightly ajar as you breathed soundly in and out. and if you'd have cracked your eyes open even just a few centimeters you'd have met alessia's hopelessly lovesick gaze bearing down on you.
or if you weren't so drunk you might have felt her lips press an affectionate kiss to your clammy forehead, lingering for a moment as she squatted beside you, other hand tangled in your hair as she inhaled deeply.
wrenching herself away she hurried out of the room, feet refusing to stop until she'd closed her door so quickly you'd think she was being chased and shutting out an intruder, her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she slowly sank down, back pressed against the door as realization sank in.
alessia was still very much so head over heels, undeniably and most certainly problematically....in love with you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
chapter ten
679 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 2 years
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OCTOBER 8TH. HADES
“my sweet, deluded little minion. aren't we forgetting one teensy-weensy but ever-so-crucial tiny little detail? i own you.”
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♱ — keigo takami + hate sex.
♱ — synopsis; as a naive little girl in love you make a deal that gets you stuck with the unrelenting god of the underworld, and no matter how sweet he may fuck you…you’ll spend all of eternity hating him if you have to.
♱ —length; 5.4K
♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of death, restraints, marking, branding, creampies, thigh riding, impact play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, possesive sex, hate sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader, hades!hawks. not beta read !
♱ — notes; screee happy sinister saturday !! tonight i bring you hawks beloved besmooched as disney's hades!! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it. !! mwah !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪
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pity. 
you should not have pity for the weak because you are weak, yourself. 
you’re weak because you’re too kind; you hate to see a dying soul twisting through those who end up in the land of the undead, shackled to their fate of never returning where the living are. you feel their desperation, hear it in the woeful cries of lost lives as they make their trip down a stream of decay— to be damned for almost all of eternity and like them, you’re desperate too. the underworld is a place to be hated, you think, tying you down to the stench of death and you’re so desperate to feel the sun on your skin once more…to taste the juice of a ripened fruit and feel the warm breeze against your skin while you brush through locks of silvering hair. 
you miss the air in your lungs, you miss breathing him in like he was oxygen.
touya, was there name of the man you missed most about the world up above— his lips often tasted of sour grapes, his skin was rough from scratches and scrapes too but soft whenever you held a his hand. you thought that he adored you— touya would worship you like the gods had put your portrait in the stars up above and you’d do the same…spending your free time counting the flecks in cerulean eyes while soft white hair flows in the warm wind. he was brave, you knew that, a warrior who was strong and had promised you his hand once he returned from the battles his father had called him upon. 
you were promised, you were happy and more in love than you thought possible— until the day touya tells you that he loves you with his dying breath, a sickness sweeping over topaz fem eyes, and you know he’d take your heart to the underworld too.
“you still thinkin’ about him, doll?” 
the warmth of your day dreams slip away as the chill of his voice fills the stone cold lair. you dare to let your fingertips drift through the river of souls below the wall you lean against. “‘m not in the mood, hades.” the god of the underworld, keigo takami is a nuisance if you’d ever known one. a pain in your ass full of feathered flames— bright blue in all of their glory, they’re colder than most would expect, unbecoming of the colour that sprout’s from the king of the undead’s back. 
“hawks. keigo, baby. c’mon little bird…” his voice is tight with humour, surprisingly playful for someone doomed to be surrounded by lifelessness for all of eternity. all of the underworld is dreary and damp, worn arching mountains made of old bones, skulls and teeth— rocks as sharp as swords that end lives with the sickly green stream of whining dead mortals. you can’t breathe down here…there’s no space for you to escape nor breathe around him and you hate it. “oh sugarplum…don’t play sourpuss! we’re all friends here!” the blonde god that burns cold flames picks your dainty fingers from the acidic pool of death. 
he grinds your gears, and you have nowhere else to go. the thought of being stuck with a man who rules over ruined lives— infuriating you to no end. “i am not—“ you seethe, shoulders raised like a hissing cat or something akin to the three headed dog that guards this place. “your friend. far from it, hades.” the look on your face is far from impressed, discourteous with your lips turned into a nasty sneer and a sweltering spark to your usually pretty docile eyes. 
it’s such a shame, how ill behaved you are after everything the man has done for you. “it’s hawks, honey.” the man reminds you, and in a flash he’s on you in all the ways you despise. his slimey grip of death squeezes your cheeks, dragging you up to his mighty height with your face in the palm of his burning hand. hades…hawks, he’s mean when he’s unhappy— the flames that form the wings of a fallen angel flicker a brilliant red and the temperature of them skyrockets. “‘n this is no way to act after all i’ve done for you cupcake.” despite the fury that radiates from the god…he coos gently. 
“if i remember correctly… i’m the one who saved your little prick of a boyfriend… aren’t I?” even through all of the robes keigo wears, you can still feel the molten heat of his skin against yours as he pulls you in close— though you dangle from his hold, you’re practically chest to chest. you scramble to get away, but the god only digs his thumb further into your cheek. “we had a deal. your soul for his life.” with his free hand, he creates an apparition, tufts of smoke dancing to form people…one showing touya who bends at the knee to take the other’s hand— this one being you. 
at first, the two characters seem happy, and an emotion akin to fondness settles in your bones— but not before touya’s little smoke figure trails away from yours to follow another woman “s’not my fault he left you. don’t take it out on me, doll,” hawks drawls, snapping his fingers to make the apparition disappear, your heart rattled in its place after reliving the scene and you force your gaze away with a grunt directed at the god. “now, since you’re being oh so disrespectful, we’ll add…give or take, another five years to your sentence with me instead of taking away seven. how’s that sound?” 
“fuck you, hades.” turning your head, you spit directly between the god’s eyes, fuelled by your own hurtful rage.
your elevated, living pulse does nothing but serve to piss off the king of the underworld more— his blonde set of locks nearly exploding off of the top his head as he combusts into red hot flames once more. “still so bitter over a man who can’t love you like i do, huh?” keigo says your name, low and raspy, and you can’t remember the last time he’d uttered those syllables. it frightens you, after all you are a mortal in the grip of a man who takes lives for a living, but you’d never let him know that. “that’s almost pathetic.”
that hurts to hear, like a knife twisting in your fragile human gut… and so, kicking your feet, still high above the ground and suspended in the large god’s grip— you throw yourself about and claw at his temperate hand cupping your face harshly. “you do not love me, you wouldn’t know what that meant even if it kicked you in the face!” you yell, biting down on keigo’s hands in a futile attempt. “you’re just obsessed with me and would much rather me be a soulless corpse to keep you better company!” 
“you better watch your tone with me, little bird—“
“you’re vile. you’re disgusting— a fool if you think i could ever see the bright side of being stuck here with you,” you ramble in response, and foolishly so. “i hate you hades, i hate you. did you know that? i want to repeat it for you. i hate yo—“ 
your words are never finished, for a resounding strike echoes throughout the cave like atmosphere on the underworld and you already feel the invisible bruising form under your skin, falling to the floor to cup your wound.
no matter how many times you had tested the god of death, he had never hit you like this before.
and you’ve never looked into his golden irises , never seen them so clearly or seen his pupils like black slits— leaving the amber colour to take over, reminding you of the surface sun. hawks looks almost predatory, hungry red flames for wings willing to swallow and burn everything in their path, including you. 
“repeat yourself. what did you say?” keigo commands easily.
you gulp. “t-that i…”
“that you, what?” your name again, and you tremble. 
“that i hate you,” you breathe. “i hate you.” 
he seems to snap at this. 
hawks smiles, teeth as sharp as razors set on display. “another five years into your sentence, pretty.” with a snap of his talon clawed fingers, the god has fragments of grey smog binding your wrist together, slipping over your nose and mouth to shut you the hell up. “‘m disappointed, yanno. i do care so much for you, i’m so attentive… but this has happened far too long to go unnoticed, little bird.” 
the world around you rushes with air as you’re hauls into the god’s thick arms, you kick and scream muffled through the smoke in your mouth— watching as keigo conjures up a throne made of thorns, pain and bones, taking a comfortable seat into it despite the lost loved ones it might be made up of. “here we go again, darling.” the blonde sighs, not caring if you batter his back on the way down to taking his seat— dragging you into position to sit over the swell of his right thigh. “s’always the same old shit with you. so naughty.” keigo peers up at you through eyes like a bird of prey…watching, knowing the exact effect he has on you. 
hyper aware of how much control he has over you, right down to your soul. 
you squirm away and keigo let’s go of the smoke, letting you tilt your head back but still rooted in the god’s lap. “i hate you.” breathing deep, you try to ignore your body flushing with heat and the urge to buck down against keigo’s surprisingly muscular thigh. 
“behave yourself. sit still,” hades coos, his touch cascades up your body, slipping under your bodice and sending warmth down each of the neurons like a flickering flame until he reaches the swell of your breasts— thumbing over your pebbled nipples in an attempt to pull a whine from between your resistant lips. it’s so cute to watch you try and fail, pretend like your hips aren’t aching to slide back and forth, drag your clit back and forth…back and forth over the man like a desperate bitch in heat, like you don’t want to put your hands in the brightness of his fire and watch yourself burn with lust. you’re no good at acting, pretending you wouldn’t slut yourself out for him, the one who owns you for all of eternity. 
with a click of his fingers, all the power in the world between them pulls up the skirts of your robes, like wisps of a web until the fabric sits at your hips. “h-hate you… s’much,” you repeat though the venom to your voice is lost, shaky and falling into a pathetic moan instead as the god traces the fat at your hips, searing fingers sliding down to your fleshy ass before peeling you away from his thigh— amused at the stickiness that ties you to him. “f-fuck.” 
“yeah sweetheart? you hate me this much?” the amusement is evident in his voice too, a slender digit sliding out from the curve of your ass to touch at your oozing wetness. “oh…i don’t know, doesn’t seem like you don’t like me. you can’t spend forever hatin’ me either; not when i get you like this.” the finger spreads apart your swelling folds, and hawks shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit. “lover boy ever make ya this wet?” you despise the way the god talks down on you, as if you’re just a slave to his cock and thighs and whatever he can give you…dopamine and lust hormones flooding your cute little mortal brain and making you pliant for him. 
the beginnings of your arousal seeps warmly through the robes laying wrinkled against the fiery blonde’s thigh, sweet folds leaving a stain that betrays you in every way possible. touya could never… not like this, you’re soaked and you’ve barely been touched. only just, by feather light grazes against the supple fat at your waist. it’s the taunting pillowy cushion to hawks’ words too, they’re what’s gotten you so worked up— not too mean or too harsh, just enough to make you feel like you’re beneath him. 
with your nails digging to hades’ arm, you cry out his name at a volume barely above a whisper— bottom lip wobbling and face crumbling just like your resolve because it hurts so good not to use him to get off, the shame only adding fuel to the fire in your lower belly. “s-shut up,” you struggle to get out, to mean what you say as your needy hole clenches against the blistering skin of a god. “you don’t make me feel shit…y-you could never be h-him—oh,” keigo flexes his thigh beneath your unloyal pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips in hunger as your words taper off into a sinful little sigh at your pretty eyes roll back into your skull. “oh…oh fuck you.” 
“watch your mouth.” hades all but snarls, a cruel smirk beginning its horizon on his slightly chapped lips now that you’re finally playing his game, your hips falling into their own rhythm over his thigh—speeding up in their straddled dance over him. again, his hands explore all what your body has to offer and this time you let him, throwing your head back when hawks rips the fabric of your skirt to get a better view of your naked rosy cunt and how beads of glistening arousal pearl between perfect pussy lips. “don’t need to be your shitty little human to make you feel good, sweetheart. i know i’m better than him,” he makes a sick point of reminding you so, leaning back into his throne with a hazy look settling into the embers of his golden eyes, those of which are trained on the way your folds encapsulate his thigh as you get yourself off on him. “i’m your god, you’ll only ever feel the pinnacle of pleasure with me.”
you loath that this much is true, of all the times hawks has punished you for resenting him— talking back and being ungrateful, you’ve never cum as hard with anyone else as much as you have with him. when his flaming hands swallow your thighs, burn their hand prints into them until you can smell the scent of singeing flesh tangled with death, decay and your saccharine pussy you feel like you’re dying. you must be, with the waves of euphoria you’re drowning in, your lungs ache from the near screams of delight that rattle around in your throat with every grind against hawks— especially when he begins to bounce his thighs against your cunt that blossoms for him like a flower from the lands up above.
“you’re awful…” you say, teary eyed despite humping at keigo’s twitching thigh faster and faster with ragged breaths— giving him a front row seat to you losing your mind, to your slit drooling so delicately against him despite how roughly your body moves. his clawed hand reaches the back of your bodice, tearing it into two as if it were nothing and letting the fabric fall away from your bouncing chest.
his mouth is on your breasts within an instant, the heated pink tongue of the god rolling over your darkened areolas and rock hard nipples, standing on end from the cool death chilled air, before the sharpened edge of his teeth sink into your soft mounds. “only just now realising that, honey? when i’m literally the king of death?” hawks let’s go of you with a slick pop, his cheeks flushed red and lips in a state to match— cock and thigh twitching at the little simper you let out from the painful sting of his teeth biting at your skin. your state is no better than his, brows creased adorably in the centre of your forehead, mouth open in a raw ‘o’ shape and your eyes screwed shut while your skin shines with perspiration. a diamond in the rough. 
“fuck, you look so fucking good,” the god of the underworld curses, glowing yellow eyes torn between watching your face contort in lechery and your mound, gliding smoothly over his paled yet golden skin— leaving a trail of slick in her wake. “oh fucking hell,” he beefs, from deep within his chest licentiously, the words caught in his throat when you start to bounce up and down in the god’s lap by your own accord. “that’s right, ride it. ride my thigh like you fucking hate me.” he leers, goading you into lifting your hips and slamming your clit back down on his shaky thigh, eyes a dark and molten gold rolling back at the sight. 
you don’t have the energy to curse him out again, whimpering and mewling like a fallen angel as you reach out to grab keigo’s shoulder in order to steady yourself. your body is wracked with the shakes and trembles even as your nails dig into his shoulder blades, one hand on his hip, using him as leverage to ride him, throwing yourself down on him as the lewd pap of your sticky pussy fills the sex and death tainted air. hawks’ mouth is back on you, biting and marking your neck, licking a nasty trail from your collarbones and back to the swell of your breasts to suckle on them— only serving to make your cunt fish every time it’s lifted from his thigh, ruining his dark robes with slick and making his wings burn brighter like the ball of lust growing between you.
hawks plants his feet firmly on the floor, his hands smoothing over your ass so he can roughly pull your cheeks apart, slamming you back down on his quivering leg every time it juts up to meet your pretty, syrupy cunt. you squeak, the hood of your clit pulled back, blood rushing right too it carrying sex crazed hormones that make your whole body tingle. “oh, just look at your fucking pussy. so, wet. so nasty.” he laughs like the sight of you staining his leg, humping it like a bitch is ludicrous. “you sure you hate me?” you do, gods you fucking do but you can barely talk with the delight pain that sparks at your ass cheeks as keigo marks them with burns again. branding you with the hades name— making you property of the underworld. 
“how can you hate me when you belong to me?” he bleats sweet and soft despite how rough hades is with you, scattering your pretty body with scalding burn marks. “when i make you feel so good that you can’t even remember your own pathetic little mortal name?” he says it then, when he’s growling and smacking a blazing hand down against your bruising ass, making you cry out and howl and drag your nails down his skin. keigo did you a favour, saving your weak and loving soul above all else after your lover had cast you aside— he protected you, nurtured you and all you could do was look at him like he ruined the world for you. so in turn, every time you would act up like this, keigo would fuck you until you were literally an inch from losing your life, reminding you that you bound to him for all of eternity, no matter what you did. 
“you’re mine. remember?” he coos to you when your head starts to loll and you’re hiccuping so hard you can’t even think to breathe right. “my little queen of the underworld.” 
slumping forward, you don’t slow the roll of your hips, the gentle glide of your slippery cunt along hades’ blazing thigh and instead you shake your head, weakly, miserably to the point where he just finds your denial cute. “‘m not…i-i,” you gargle, words incoherent against the molten core of keigo’s chest. “i fucking hate you—uhuh, yeah…i do.” you moan.
like most humans, you’re fucking pitiful but your voice adorned with lust is enticing to a god who hears nothing but deathly wails all day. “keep tellin’ yourself that; baby but look at how you fall apart on my lap. uhuh…yeah?” keigo flashes you his pearly whites through his condescending smirk and tone, using you so bristfully that every time he pushes you back and forth over his thigh you go as far back as to grind your puffy clit against his knee. “that felt good, huh? yeah i know…you’re all mine.” 
you fucking hate him, and that voice of his and how he plays you for a fucking fool. 
you hate how his possession over you makes you needy, makes you melt and how you eagerly nod your head, sore and bruised by flames all over as you push it into keigo’s neck— the knot in your tummy nice and tight, so good that it hurts. “‘m close… don’t stop. please, o-oh fuck!” you cry, coated in your own essence as it splatters every time you slam your pretty pussy down on hawks, clenching around nothing, your sweet words soothing the ache in his rigid dick. “j-just like that. f-fuck! keigo!” 
the way you drawl out the syllables of his name makes a primal urge stir in the god— he circles your hips on him, let’s his calloused finger tips burn their mark against your hips and your thighs and your ass, knowing that the torment gets you off, makes your creamy cunt wetter. “you gonna cum for me? make a mess in my lap? paint your god with your pretty juices?” he teases, short for breath leaning up with a fond smile until your lips are just barely apart. he wonders how you’ll look when you cum this time; if your sweaty swollen lips with hungrily accept his, if you’ll cry with your eyes closed or look him in his own— your sparkling bambi eyes swirling with hatred and dread like they always do. “c’mon…come on. give it to me, sweetheart, lemme feel you come undone.” 
hot fingers, the ones that branded you push into your clit— pinching it as hades writes his signature against your throbbing pussy, moaning with you when you jolt. “yeah, you like that?” he growls, voice hoarse and your body betrays you once more, head nodding into his neck. “mhm, you’re gonna cum like this for me aren’t you? you’re gonna fucking cum for the god you hate. that’s it…oh gods, that’s fuckin’ it, doll.” 
“i-i’m! oh gods, keigo—!” you squeal as the knot of lust within you unravels all at once, your core gushing with release as hades makes you dive head first into a blinding orgasm. you violently shake and your thighs lock around his hand that works you through your high and releases the pressure in your pussy, sweet streams of clear arousal soaking his lap and dripping down your thighs. hawks can’t bring himself to stop, doesn’t know where to look as he draws tighter circles on your little nub, drawing out your orgasm for his own amusement, addicted to how your skin shines with your release. “s-stop! please… s’too much!” you squeak.
the world spins harder on its axis and you barely have time to register hawks flipping your positions, folding you with your back to the throne and legs thrown over the bend of his burly arms. he can’t wait any fucking longer, feeling as if his cock might explode without being inside of you, watching you cum like that having sent him into a throbbing frenzy. you haven’t even calmed down yet, still limp from your orgasm when keigo pushes his length through your seeping, glistening folds, red cockhead catching on the hood of your clit in desperation, poking at your fluttering hole, ready to fuck into you while he lets his dick slap along the length of you. 
“j-just because you’ve made me cum…doesn’t mean i like you, nor trust you.” you pant in denial, trying and failing to open your pretty eyes to the underworld. “it doesn’t mean anything.” 
but keigo, he’s too far gone to care at this point. he could care less if you hate him, if you adore him, worship him or fear him. the only thing on his mind right now is sinking his yearning, pulsating shaft into your slick, slit while you’re still coming down from heaven and back to him in the world below. “don’t give a fuck,” he says, a hankering feeling to fuck you now clouding his mind. “i don’t need your trust little bird, i already know your body fucking loves me.” 
he won’t last long and neither will you, you’re already only just hanging on by a thread. “i-i don’t,” you slur, spit on the pad of tongue feeling heavy, you still haven’t recovered from your orgasm, squeezing down on every inch that keigo pushes into you— even though you’re wet beyond belief, your pink little hole can’t help but resist him, as if your body is finally denying him after everything he put you through on his thigh. “n-no…no no!” you cry out, a mess of dry lips and crystal tears, lifting your ass from the seat of the throne to try and coax hawks back into you. “please…need it, y-your cock…p-please!”
“see look, you’re being so nice now… is that all it takes? play with your precious pussy a little bit and you stop pretending to hate me?” keigo laughs huskily, dragging a thumb over his seedy tip as his fat length sits on your tummy— before shoving the soiled digit against your clit, pressing it into your pleasure nub so loosen you up a bit to take him. “this pussy doesn’t hate me, does she? oh no…she belongs to me.” 
you shudder at his words despite the heat of his flames, and you’re not even given a second to respond or prepare before his ribbed and red hot cock is shoved into your unused hole, his practised hands lifting you higher from the throne to accommodate for all of his size. “oh…oh god, k-keigo,” you coo like a little angel, your gaze losing its focus while the king of death folds you in half against his royal seat, the forked and purpling veins decorating his shaft pressing up against new pulse points, pinging them with ecstasy the further he presses into you. 
hawks bends over your shaky frame, golden and carved abs pressed against the backs of your thighs, the god smothering you with his body once he reaches the hilt, your knees digging blissfully into your shoulders, his cock already nestled against your g-spot from the pure size of him and you feel so full, like keigo is everywhere around you, a pleasant pain thrumming as your squishy insides stretch over his cold. he’s in your guts, your senses, your heart though it’s blackened with hatred for him. 
you’re dizzy and your eyes droop, mind void of thought and you don’t have the effort to hate him anymore— not when he makes you feel like this. “nuh-uh, wake up sweetheart, want you to look at me as i fuck ya, kay?” keigo whispers to you sweetly, his blazen hand smacking down on your face, pulling the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard from between your lips. “that’s it, wake up f’me. listen to this cunt call my name,” he laments tapping your cheek once more and grins at the branded hand print before golden eyes lock themselves  away— taking away your sunshine from up above. you listen intently, the lewd squelch of your insides bouncing of stacks of bones and towers of skeletons, at a volume much higher than the cries of the undead. “my messy messy girl, so messy you might as well admit that you’re in love with me.” 
while that couldn’t have been further from the truth, you submit to the god who makes you a slave to his cock— slowly withdrawing from your snug walls, pulling out of your sticky selfish cunt. “ain’t it damned shame that lover boy took you for granted?” he growls with a voice tinged with possession. “such a shame that you’re sentenced to slutting yourself out on this cock for the rest of your days…oh fuck, you’re tight.” hips surging forwards, hawks sets a steady pace to rocking his dick into you, blunt cockhead pushing and pulling against sensitive spots that makes you see the stars in the night sky again. and maybe you do consider yourself lucky, without touya fucking you over, you wouldn’t be prisoner to the best dick you’ve ever had. 
you hate him, but hades is so, so good—teeth and tongue latching back onto your bouncing breasts as the heat from his flames spreads through you like a wildfire in a forest and the only thing capable putting it out is his precum sloshing in creamy, loose white against your gummy, syrupy walls. “m-my fucking god!” you manage through stuttered breathes, keening into the swipes of keigo’s tongue across your breasts that he’s burned, as if his saliva will soothe you. he ploughs into you at a god speed pace, skin slapping on skin as his balls slam into the curve of your ass and harmonise with your high pitched wails. 
“that’s right, baby.” he sounds so elated, moaning happily around your swollen nipples, moving to pant happily into your ear, pressing further and further into you until keigo is hardly pulling away from bullying your g-spot, your juices splashing about the places, running down the length of your slit and your ass to pool underneath you on the marble throne. “i’m yours and you’re fuckin’ mine, for the rest of forever…don’t, ah shit, care what you say. hate me all y’fuckin’ want.” 
hawks fucks you like he hates your guts, looking over you, throwing your legs over his shoulder and using his weight to canter into your abused cunt, rocking his throne with a dull thump to each of thrusts. he frees you from the grip that leaves burn marks across your body, to briefly run his hand through sweaty blonde locks, both of you are slick with perspiration, breathing ragged and you’re definitely too fucked out to even see at this point. the sun is keigo; despite the dreary underworld you live in, and the tears blur your vision too much for you to tell this isn’t the land of the living. 
“‘m g’na cum,” you tell hades eagerly, feeling like you’re alive the more he fills you up— sexes slotted together like a match made in heaven when you really feel like he’s your own personal hell. “gonna cum so fucking hard.” the pleasure is suffocating, deathly, but you don’t care, crying from every hole possible, locking down on keigo’s ravaging dick when he slaps your entrance to keep you awake— you jolt, sore from every joint and whine out pathetically. 
“can feel you cummin’ on me again, better give it all t’me little bird— want your fuckin’ mind, your body, your soul.” he sinks his teeth into the junction at your neck one last time, adding another delightfully painful mark to the rest that litter your body. he does it all to numb your pain of touya leaving you, fills you up with love which you mistake for hate because how can a merciless god who takes lives for fun be capable of loving you. it’s not long before your body does as he says, following keigo’s lead, tumbling down the highway to hell as the bright light of his flames flashes before your very eyes, your release staining his abdomen where it’s smooshed up against your clit.
“oh shit, fuck that’s it,” he’s right behind you too, abs rippling while the mighty god of death trembles above you and pours thick white from his angry red tip straight into your bruised womb, lewd clapping noises filling the air as he rocks into you through the last of your highs. keigo makes a pretty mess of you; creaming your insides as his last mark of possession over you. “my pretty little bird, mine eternally.” 
he hopes you’ll forget touya, that you’ll forgive him just this once— stop hating him for once. 
but with your foreheads pressed together, bodies limp and uncomfortable against the throne hawks— hades, has conjured up you quickly come to your senses with closed eyes and lost breath. 
“i hate you, hades.” you grunt, shame burning at you now instead of him, instead of lust. “get off me.” 
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pickingupmymercedes · 4 months
Text
Wrong for me - Charles Leclerc
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📷 @/nicolo.furicchia
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! f1 related! reader (the reader is a tp's daughter, I wrote with Toto in mind but there's no names)
song: Angels - Miley Cyrus
warnings: angsty but happy-ish ending
wordcount: 1k
a/n: Bit of a short one but it is my first time writing for Charles, so would you guys give some feedback? Also I'm thinking of opening up requests for drivers x readers with songs inspirations, I actually really like to take songs as inspirations
I know that you’re wrong for me, gonna wish we never met on the day I leave
It was everything your father had warned you not to do, yet it was everything you’ve thought about ever since he walked through the f1 paddock back in 2018. You knew he was wrong for you, but the very thought of each other consumed every inch of logical judgment in both of you. He had a couple of girlfriends since, they were all nice and polite, you tried to stay away but it didn’t make much of a difference. Their official reason for the break ups were the hardships of dating a driver, but he would tell you sometime later some of the exact words he heard were “Why am I always so sure your mind is on her?”.
A puppy love that had burned bright for a little over 6 months when you were still 16 but somehow had managed to quietly find its way through to today. Only this time the flame had threatened to burn not only your hearts but the entirety of his and your father’s team. The tension between the two of you had always been evident to those who knew what had happened back then, but as the 2024 season went further it was more than obvious to anyone with eyes that there was something there. Feelings and desire neither of you would dare to act upon and that would further build an atmosphere that could be felt and cut with a knife, making you wish every day you had never met.
When you finally realized you had the same effect he did on you, hurting him was how you protected yourself from giving in to the urge to fall head first into a love that you believed would not be able to thrive. So as his relationships crumbled down to their inevitable ends, you embarked in a string of meaningless flings in search of someone that would take your mind off of the one thing that you truly wanted.
Bringing him down to his knees with every ghosting you’d purposely inflict him, finding some unimportant meeting to attend instead of where you said you’d be, all the while excitedly celebrating his first win, birthday or even little achievements, moments of weakness you’d let your true emotions surface, only to shut him out right after, pledging to not drag him down the rabbit hole that was your blinding infatuation, with what you believed to be his way out of “misery loves company”.
Some of the drivers, protective as they had become of you, caught on pretty early how although Charles wouldn’t confess his affections, he would never candidly deny them either, which resulted in rising untrust between some of them, with your father on the other hand taking the blind eye approach and ignoring what was obvious until he couldn’t anymore.
You tried to pretend things were taken care of, but every time you found yourselves in the same space sparks could almost be seen coming from every other direction. The breaking point being a very public and loud display of how tense things were between you and him one Saturday night at the paddock, the motive long forgotten as both of you screamed at the top of your lungs for things the other had no fault. The frustration of walking on egg shells around each other clearly evident on the screaming match, and your father’s first intervention resulting in two grown adults looking like sulking toddlers who had just been told they had to deal with their emotions before anyone got seriously hurt in the cross fire.
That wasn’t the last time, and although you would try to keep discussions and screaming matches alike from happening, the public stares and midnight bedroom escapades escalated to a point where everyone decided enough was enough, and you were both locked at the FIA conference room, to either “kiss or scream it out” – their exact words.
“I’m not like your past relationship, Charles. I won’t bring you security, peace and quiet. I’m a mess and you know it, you’ve seen it. Everything I touch turns into a huge media monster and I’m fated to lose every single person I love. It’s not your fault I ruin everything, and it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need” You confessed, looking him with bloodshot eyes, tears falling freely.
“I don’t want them, I want you. Baggage and all, media attention and crazy fans, protective father and f1 drivers haunting me for years to come… The mess and everything they always said you’d be, because that’s the woman I fell in love with.” And although you had reservations on what you believed could be a relationship with the power to destroy his life, and potently his career, you gave in, letting your heart speak louder than your fears.
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allysunny · 4 months
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Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀
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"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara
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Words: 4.1k words
Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!
Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3
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“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.
Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.
“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.
“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.
You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.
“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.
Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”
You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.
You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).
“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.
You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”
He only sighed in response and shook his head.
“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.
His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.
She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that.  He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.
She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.
She can’t clean either – let him handle it.
The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.
So why wouldn’t he treat you with the utmost care?
“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.
“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.
You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.
“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.
You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.
“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.
Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.
“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.
You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.
“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”
“No me importa. Que vean.”
“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.
“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”
“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.
“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”
Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.
“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”
Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.
“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”
“Miguel!”
“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.
“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”
“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.
Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.
“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “
“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”
“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”
“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.
You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.
You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.
A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.
You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.
The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.
Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.
You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.
So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?
You looked at the woman again.
She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.
And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.
And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?
It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
You refused to meet his eye.
“Mhm. Just peachy.”
“Are you cold?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why are you covering yourself?”
“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.
Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.
And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.
"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.
And then everything fell into place.
The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.
And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.
“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.
“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “
“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.
You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.
“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.
There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.
“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”
“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.
“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.
“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.
“I feel so unworthy.”
“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”
“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”
Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.
“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.
“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”
Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.
“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”
You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”
Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.
“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.
Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“You forgot the most important part.”
You looked up, confusion in your features.
“She will never be you.”
Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.
“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”
You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.
“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.
“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.
“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”
Miguel quickly cut you off.
“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”
You nodded with a small smile.
“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.
“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.
“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”
You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.
You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.
For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.
You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?
You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn’t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.
You would be okay.  
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A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.
Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3
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