#i am very much having thoughts and emotions and i desperately want to make it somebody else's problem

[barkingangelbaby]

I feel like such a broken fucking person lol

I talked way too much in the tags don't read them

[silkscream]

pure smile snake venom

ੈ✩ suguru geto x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, dom!suguru, emotional manipulation, fingering, dubcon, blood, yandere behavior, edging, multiple orgasms, choking, loss of virginity, religious imagery

ੈ✩ wc: 5.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: oooo i am soo normal about cult leader suguru. art by @/wonowono__3 on twitter

He finds you unconscious. 

He feels you before he sees you – your cursed energy permeates the air with dread. He can feel it in his throat, as if the hand of his past self materialized to strangle him, reminding him of desperation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, not anymore.

It also felt like death. 

When he finds you, your body would have easily been looked over, small as you were compared to the vastness of the forest around you. Insignificant, left to rot. 

When he’d looked at your face, there was recognition in his chest despite not seeing you before. He hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a while. He barely had anyone that wasn’t at arm's length to him, even his closest devouts, yet something about the delicateness of your face enticed him. A predator finding lost prey.

He finds it mildly sacrilegious to touch you when you’re in this state, but your shirt was saturated with so much blood that it took him a bit to realize that the color of the fabric was supposed to be white and not merlot-red. He lifts your shirt, grimacing at its dampness, and finds a wound that looks fatal. 

He looks at it and feels the residuals of a nasty curse. By the time he tracks it down, he tortures it with all of the energy inside of him. 

__

You wake up on a futon you don’t recognize. You don’t remember a thing. 

You wince as you attempt to rise, clutching your side. You’re topless, clothed only by gauze covering your chest and ribs. 

You exhale, closing your eyes. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you see a face with a vacant smile. You are met with that very smile when you open your eyes again.

“Welcome back.”

You blink. He must be the stranger that saved you from — well, what did he save you from? You were used to spirits, took years to adjust to that fact, and have even killed a few yourself. But when you feel the pain in your side, nothing comes to mind.

“You… saved me?”

“I suppose so. It was pure luck that I happened to stumble upon you.”

“Where — where am I?”

He tells you it’s his temple, then he tells you his name. When he asks for yours, you’re reluctant. Eventually, you tell him. If he was luring you into his trap, you suppose you had fallen into it against your will by pure chance. It was probably better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you have anyone who will miss you?” 

You don’t say anything. You think of the dingy studio apartment you’ve been subletting for a few months. You try to conjure up a narrative of belonging in your head that would give you any reason for you to leave. Nothing comes.

You shake your head.

__

Geto Suguru is the first person to tell you that you’re magic.

You knew that, in some way, ever since you were a child. Your intuition made you a strange child, always slightly cryptic with a sense of maturity that made you seem like a vessel for a sad ghost. Your visions would only get stronger – small bursts of light whiplashing through your mind into images, rapid like a supercut. The things you saw would come true. 

This is what makes you a good weapon. Ironically, you had always thought of yourself as weak. 

He was captivating the way a cult leader should be, and you had fallen under his spell. It was his robes and the regal way he carried himself, maybe. You don’t think he’s bad — he’s made you important, and you’ve never felt wanted before. You were a recluse before Suguru found you. Barely the shape of anything, so he found it appropriate to mold you into something to call his.

Suguru doesn’t tell you much. You know that he probably lies to you.

He holds too much power for you to question it. His cursed technique is daunting and his grace is enviable, but he’s mostly kind. You help him when he finds curses, usually the more powerful ones that could threaten him. Able to see into the near future, you can sense their next move each time. It makes it easy to subdue them to Suguru’s advantage.

You also find that he is regarded as something of a saint to non-sorcerers. Something twists in your gut when you watch his exorcisms, seeing the immediate relief in the faces of his followers. They look at him with so much adoration that it makes you self-conscious that you share the same disposition.

He tells you you’re his favorite and the feeling dissipates.

You like how ritualistic living in the temple is. Breakfast at the same time each day. Tea in the garden. Rolling in the gross with bruised knuckles.

You take a liking to his girls. They remind you of yourself, but they lack the meekness you had as a teenager. The twins adore you almost as much as they adore Suguru. They are endlessly fickle, as most teenage girls are, but their devotion is worn candidly in the way they carry themselves. You wonder how they can be so obedient, but you realize that they have known nothing else. 

It’s a quiet luxury. You like to pretend that you’re some sort of priestess, sometimes. You had never been as reverent as your mother, but you think that there is peace in serving a God.  If not Suguru, then some higher power must’ve granted you another chance at life, even if your new life meant mundane piety. 

You liked routine – it fit you. You did your part in the temple and Suguru would reward you with gentle praises. You were only one of few sorcerers in his current entourage, so you felt special. 

Despite this, something felt messing. You often wish Suguru could cast out the malaise inside of you, but you’ve carried it in the pit of yourself for as long as you could remember. Even in your pious bliss, you start wondering if the curse that nearly killed you left a part of itself within you. Each day is the same until you wear thin.

When the string finally breaks, you find him with blood on his hands in the temple’s omoya.

It’s not the blood of a curse, either. It’s dark crimson, such as the same blood that is inside of you, and on the tatami mat lies the lifeless body of a servant. 

Shin, his name was. He wasn’t much younger than you, but he had the spirit of a boy, always able to make you laugh before he served you breakfast. He had arrived only a few months after you had, citing suicidal ideation as a catalyst to seeking Suguru’s services. Once treated, he had felt larger than life. 

And now, his face is frozen in time – the look of sheer fear. 

“Useless monkey,” Suguru tuts, wiping the blood off his face. You’ve seen that look on his face before — when he’s cruel and callous in battle. When he snaps the neck of a special grade curse before he eats it. 

You run to the bathroom to vomit.

When you emerge, one of the twins looks at you curiously. Mimiko. She smiles at you serenely, her eyes flickering with taunt. 

“Is everything alright, Y/N-san?”

“Y-yes,” you nod. “Just a bit under the weather.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Her eyes light up for a second. “Oh, could you be pregnant? Nanako and I really wish there was another kid around—“

“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” you cut her off, shocked. Did she think you and Suguru were… together? Did she think you were his concubine?

“Ah. I can get the servants to prepare some ginger tea for you.”

“No need, Mimiko,” you shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I just… need to get some air.”

She leaves you alone as you walk towards the pagoda. You feel another wave of nausea when you remember Shin’s lifeless eyes. The blood on his throat. 

You stare at the sunset. It’s been a long time since you’ve left the temple of your own volition. Suguru keeps a tight leash on you nowadays, blaming the unpredictability of your power. Bitterly, you realize that you’re only ever in town alongside him. 

Sometimes, you miss being a stray.

His presence is immediate. When you turn, his long hair sways in the breeze as he flashes you a cat-like smile. 

“Thought you were trying to run away from me,” he murmurs, walking towards you. “But you’d never do that, would you?”

“Just… enjoying the view.”

He looks at you, amused. It feels belittling. 

“I apologize. I thought Nanako had locked the door.”

Your blood stills. He saw you.  

“I thought you only killed curses,” you stammer. For the first time, his presence makes you feel unsafe. 

“I never said that, sweet girl,” he chuckles. He plays with a loose strand of your hair. “Humans are beneath us, you know that. Humans are the reason curses are created. Curses just like the one that nearly killed you.”

You don’t have it in you to protest. He’s gotten closer to you now. A hand on your waist. His lips kissing your hairline in a way that makes you feel like a child again.

“I— I liked him,” you stutter. 

“Mm,” he hums. “He liked you, too. A bit too much if you ask me.”

You stay silent. Only the sound of cicadas fill the air. 

“It’s not your fault,” he grins. “You charm anyone you meet by default, you know. But sometimes, these followers… they want to threaten our mission. Sometimes, they’re paid off by sorcerers who are targeting me to gather intel. And darling, when there’s a target on my back, there’s a target on yours.”

You pull away from him with wide eyes. His face is neutral. So naive, you are. He was only doing you a favor, but a sheltered girl like you trusts too easily. 

“Just remember. I will be the only one to protect you.”

__

He finds you in the garden.

You’re surrounded by wildflowers, your yukata loose enough on you that it falls off your shoulder when you sit up to greet him. The sight of your bare skin tokes the fire in his stomach. He’s dressed more casually tonight, in a plain kimono as opposed to his usual gojo-gesa.

“Enjoying the fireflies?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He notices the dark circles under your eyes. Your smile is tired now. You stare blankly as if you’re in a trance. 

“You’ve been a bit off lately,” he muses. “Something on your mind?”

You blink at him in surprise, almost regretting it once you make eye contact. The hint of a lazy smile is there while his eyes scrutinize you. It always feels like he can see right through you, observing you just before he eats you whole. 

“No, Geto-sama,” you shake your head.

He laughs, rubbing your shoulder. “So formal with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” you knit your brows. You had been at the temple for less than a year. You weren’t intimate with him enough to warrant that. You weren’t intimate with him in the way your heart longed for.

“Not with me. Never with me.”

“Suguru.” You mull over the taste of his name on your tongue. The shape of it in your mouth. “I’m okay, Suguru.”

You feel pathetic under his gaze. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, sensing the apprehension in your voice. The slight quiver of your bottom lip as you avoid his face.

“I’m just… recovering. From my technique, that’s all,” you say hoarsely.

It’s not a complete lie — the intensive training with Suguru led you to discover that you could bend time and space to your will in small aspects. Teleporting short distances became a new tool for your arsenal. It was still difficult to manage and exhausting to exert. The other day, your nose had bled so much that you almost thought your membranes would burst completely.

“You’re exhausting yourself,” he says gently, rubbing a hand to the small of your back. “But you’re improving rapidly. I’m proud of you.”

Warmth floods your body at his praise. It was too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, and you were starting to hate it.

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You take a moment of reprieve when he asks this. Powerful? Despite being a sorcerer and wielding the ability to exorcise the monstrous manifestations of human suffering, you did not feel powerful at all. You never have. If anything, you only felt useful.

“Not really.”

“You should,” he smiles. “You’re getting stronger. We’re untouchable together, you and me.”

You and me echoes loud in your brain. Stitches itself into every crevice unwittingly. 

“Ge– Suguru,” you swallow thickly. “Is that why you saved me? Because you wanted me to get strong?”

“Yes,” he nods without hesitation. “I saw potential in you.”

“Is that all I am? Potential? I’m just– just a vehicle for you?”

He leans over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His own hair is down, for once, and you can smell his white tea shampoo as his shoulder touches yours. It almost soothes you.

“You aren’t just a tool to me, you know that,” he sighs, looking at you with intent. “I like taking care of you.”

You nod slowly as you look towards the sky. His words aren’t enough to fill the emptiness inside you. His proximity to you makes your chest constrict in the slightest bit, creaking the floorboards of your ribs inside a haunted house body. 

You shiver when he pulls down your yukata and presses a chaste kiss to your collarbone. It must feel the same as when humans get their curses exorcised by him. Lightness in their being instead of dead weight. Blessed by a god.

“Come inside,” he purrs. “You’re getting cold, yeah? I can see your goosebumps.”

No. His hands were just colder than you expected.

He gathers his hair into a half-up bun before he brings you to his room for the first time. It’s rather bare, save for the kotatsu across from his futon and the talismans that are hanging above it. The calligraphy is messy, unintelligible, as if the text was written manically. 

He sits you down at the kotatsu and pours you bergamot tea. You cough nervously in anticipation.

“Suguru.”

“Yes?”

“Um.. how long do you intend on keeping me here?”

He raises a brow. Looks at you like you’ve asked something stupid.

“You have somewhere else to go?” he asks sarcastically.

You triple-blink at his bluntness. He isn’t taking you seriously. 

“Well, I have a friend or two in my hometown. I was thinking about—”

Your breath hitches when he grabs your chin. His gaze bores into your face, his lips in a hard line.

“You’re unhappy,” he says plainly.

“No, I’m just not sure if I can completely fulfill the purpose that you—”

“Do you think anyone else will take you in?” he spits. “You told me yourself. You have no family. You were barely scraping by when you lived alone. With the amount of cursed energy you possess, you think you’ll be able to protect your friends from all the curses you’ll attract?”

You sink into yourself. As if a switch is flipped, his expression changes completely. There’s that familiar softness in his eyes again. God, the tea was making you feel so warm, too. One look from him and you find yourself melting. Even the Devil would swoon.

“Don’t you think fate brought us together?” he whispers. “Don’t you know how valuable you are to me?”

He almost sounds like he means it. Your rabbit heart speeds up when he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. A heady feeling consumes you and you force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“Look at me,” he demands, grabbing your chin again. He crowds your space, not leaving you any room to breathe. Your gut aches from sudden heat.

“God made you for me. Don’t you know that?”

Your mind goes blank as you nod slowly. He looks at you like he’s starved. No one’s ever looked at you like that before. No one has ever really looked at you before him.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper.

He caresses your cheek, his breath tickling your jaw as he leans in.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like to feel a little stir-crazy. I’ll take you out more often, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and it comes off as sardonic.

“Such a spoiled girl. Only the very best for my girl, hm? I clothe her, feed her, make her stronger. And what do I get in return?” he scolds, thumb swiping over your quivering bottom lip. “She tries to run away from me.”

“I’m not,” you pout.

“You’re not?” he scoffs.

You don’t know what to do other than apologize. You were weak like that.

“You’re so good,” he sighs. “And you want to keep being good, is that right?”

“Yes,” you mumble. 

You shiver again when he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand undoing the ties of your yukata. You sharply inhale at the cool air hitting in your nipples, the rest of you trembling at the prospect of being so bare in front of him. God or prophet, you didn’t know. All that you know now is that there was no coming back from this. 

“My good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “My best girl.”

You whimper when you feel his tongue on your jaw. His kisses are tantalizingly slow. Teasing. He marvels at the flutter of your lashes in response to his touch. 

He had tried to deny those feelings in the beginning, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He feels as though he’s created you. He liked you delicate, lace winged. A butterfly caught in a jar.

Suguru thinks this is fair. He has always believed in fairness, and although one might argue that his philosophy is a direct contradiction to that, he could beg to differ. Different people had different values, that was all. You just happened to have an advantage in the hierarchy he holds in his head. A precious thing, his treasure. 

When he turned his back on Jujutsu society by becoming a curse user, he would avenge the suffering of the sorcerers around him. Years of adapting to the taste of shit and vomit would eventually earn him something that made it all worth it. He’s convinced that something was you.

He was your savior, therefore you were his blessing. It was only fair that he could take you the way he wanted. You were meant to be found by him. You were meant to be kept. 

You barely put up a fight.

You whimper when he parts your legs with his hands and finds you embarrassingly wet. Every stroke of his hands on your inner thigh has you twitching involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he coos. “Look at that.”

You look away in shame, trying to close your legs, but he forces them open with a bruising grip. Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“What’s wrong, baby? You want to be good for me, right?”

You nod without a word, trying to control your breathing. Your brain is telling you that you want this — you’d wanted to be his from the moment you saw him. Your body tells you the same, but dread creeps up your spine.

You gasp when he grazes your clit with his fingers. He plays with it, stares at your cunt through your underwear like it’s a prize.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid. I’m the only person in this world you can trust.”

He slips your panties off easily and you wince at the sound of your wetness sticking to the fabric. He applies more pressure to your bud, distracting you with his mouth on yours. You mewl into his mouth without realizing and he grins against your lips, slipping his tongue inside. 

When you feel a finger push into your walls, you convulse in surprise, though you don’t pull away like he expects. You merely clutch him harder, your hands wrinkling the sleeve of his haori. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” he rasps. “No one’s been here before, is that right? Just me?”

He groans when you look at him with innocent eyes and nod meekly. Of course he would be your first. You were nothing but a wounded dog when he found you, barely had a life of your own before he took you. You were pure and the world was keeping you for him. It was meant to be.

“S-Suguru…” you breathe. He’s pulled you into his lap now, your cunt getting his kimono wet. The slick of your cunt around his finger is enough to make blood rush to his cock. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles. In one fell swoop, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the futon. You squeak in surprise at being lifted off the floor so quickly and so easily. 

He takes the pause in his actions to undress himself, slipping off his robes, and when you see the thickness of his length prodding against his toned stomach, your mouth goes dry. 

“C’mere,” he beckons. You obey.

He kisses you sweetly on your mouth and then down your jaw, squeezing your breasts. Your breath hitches as he takes the time to rub his thumb over your nipples. Suddenly, his teeth graze your chest. Biting, tasting. Forbidden fruit.

You let out a quiet moan and he chuckles. “So sensitive.”

Without a warning, he plunges two fingers into your cunt and you nearly cry out. There’s a choked noise, something in between pleasure and resignation. It’s all too much. When he adds a third finger and feels much less resistance, he laughs. 

“Taking me so well. You’re doing so good,” he encourages before lapping at your chest again. When his fingers curl at just the right angle, your vision starts to get fuzzy. His thumb on your clit only intensifies the feeling.

“I c-can’t—”

“Hm? Use your words.”

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

His movements still and you nearly scream. He pulls back to see tears brimming your eyes and he kisses them away gently despite his cruel smirk. 

“Nonono, please—”

“Please what?” He feigns innocence. 

You bite your lip, your face too hot to feel comfortable expressing what you want. You feel the ghost of your curse wrap around your throat again. Once again, you find that the ticket to salvation has silky black hair and snake eyes. The artillery of a fallen angel disguised as something pure.

He can tell you’re frustrated but too afraid to voice it. You’re as pliable as he knew you would be. Endlessly easy to coax a reaction from. 

“Do you expect everything to be handed to you? Just because you’re mine?” he taunts. 

His. His. His.

You shake your head, whimpering. 

“Then ask nicely, baby.”

Your cunt is on fire even though he isn’t touching you. When he strokes your lip and pushes his thumb into your mouth, you let him. Your tongue tickles his fingertip.

“Ah, so you still have a tongue. You can still speak.”

He laughs when you pout.

“Please touch me,” you say, your voice as quiet as a breeze.

“What was that?” He grins even wider. 

“Pleasetouchme,” you whimper, your voice light as air.“Please… please make me cum.”

“Good girl,” he chuckles, licking into your mouth. His fingers fuck you in earnest now. You feel so full that your eyes roll back. It’s cute.

Poor thing. Suguru is a patient man, but he’s not sure if he has it in him to wait. He could make you cum three more times so that you’re truly ready for him, but he doesn’t want to. He supposes that if he breaks you, you’ll thank him anyway. No one else wants you more than him, you had to understand that. 

His cock throbs at the sight of you coming undone. It’s nearly animalistic, like provoking violence from weak prey. Cataclysmic like a falling star. He’s consumed with it, with the fact that he can do this to you and no one else can. 

He fingers you through the aftershocks, too, until you sob loud enough that his other hand has to cover your mouth. You squirm underneath him, shaking your head in desperation. 

He admires the slick of sweat on your chest, your glowing figure. When he releases you, he thinks briefly that you’re on the verge of passing out. But you tremble, rapidly breathing, eyes unfocused as your lashes flutter. 

Suguru licks you off of his fingers and you stare in horror, returning to yourself.  It makes him giddy, how even your spirit is infinitesimal.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs. He kisses you roughly, tongue prying your mouth open and making you moan. “See? Sweet. You’re perfect.”

He likes seeing you all flushed. Glaze on your cheekbones. He thinks he should make you his wife, memorialize your fucked out form with a commissioned painting and hang it above his bed. A good luck charm among the talismans. You look too good to ruin with his cock, but he knows he’d already taken all of you anyway.

He’ll put you back together after. Pamper you with yuzu slices in a hot bath. Play the part of a boyfriend instead of a master.

He pins you down even though he doesn’t need to. You let him settle in between your thighs, his aching cock slapping against your stomach. 

“So cute when you’re scared,” he chuckles at the look on your face.

“It’s… big,” you say meekly. 

“It’ll fit. It won’t be so bad, yeah? I changed my mind about punishing you for trying to run away.”

Panic paints your features.

“I wasn’t trying to run away! I promise.” Your lip quivers again. Maybe he should make you beg.

“Is that right?” He leans in, precum spreading on the skin above your cunt, tip grazing your clit just slightly. You bite your tongue so you don’t moan from the sensitivity.

“Yes. I want to stay.”

“And why’s that?” he jeers. 

“Because— because you’ve given me everything.”

He waits for you to elaborate.

“Because I’m yours. I’m…  your good girl,” you slur through tears, voice above a whisper.

“Poor baby,” he hums. “Of course you are. Always will be.” Whether you like it or not.

You moan at the same time he prods his tip inside. When he sinks in even further, right to the hilt, he becomes delirious with need. It takes everything in him to not pound into you recklessly.

“Pretty fucking cunt,” he groans. “So warm.”

More hot tears, but your dread is replaced with rapture. He fills you up, already poking at the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your body ripples with pleasure as he moves and digs into your guts, an ocean of tender heat.

It’s a branding. You don’t exist if it isn’t for him.

“Suguru,” you moan. 

He kisses your neck, teeth hard on your flesh. Pulling it taut while his tongue rolls in it and leaves mouth-shaped blessings.

His hips drive into you with more force, cock reaching places that your fingers could never reach. You shut your eyes and phosphenes float through the static of blackness. They linger when you open them again, Suguru’s face illuminating in grainy color.

It takes you a bit to realize his mutters, the way he’s babbling through moans.

Good fucking girl. All mine forever. I’ll die with you.

You let out a pitched moan as Suguru wraps his fingers around your throat. Every part of your body feels like it’s bursting. You cum like that, your walls outstretched by his thickness carving you out in the shape of him. 

“Take it,” he grunts. “Take my cock. Fuck, I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

He’ll probably obsess over your cunt for ages. The face you make when you’re being used. Your ragdoll body.

His bun had come undone. Even if his cock wasn’t in you, your stomach would ache from how beautiful he looked. Eyes focused on you, nearly deranged at the way he was blistering you raw. The cascade of tears down your cheeks. It made him impossibly hard. 

He pulls out quickly to flip you onto your stomach so he can rut into you from behind. The angle makes it so that his cock is even deeper. 

“Oh, Suguru—”

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again?”

You whine, all high-pitched and girlish. 

“Tell me you’re mine. That you’ll never leave me,” he grunts.

“I’m yours,” you hiccup. “I’ll n-never leave you.”

Your cunt was starting to burn, even with how wet you were. Suguru cums with a rough thrust at your words, nose buried in between the lovebirds littering your shoulder. You’re full of him. He doesn’t stop, his dick still hard inside you. 

“Shit,” he hisses, looking down to see his cum oozing out of your pussy, all mixed up in your arousal. “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He grits his teeth when he feels you squeeze around him. You can barely form words now, crying as you can feel yourself about to cum again. 

“That’s it,” he pants. “Cum for me, princess. Cum on that cock for me.”

You’re twitchier this time. Your moan tapers off into squeals as you bury your tear-stained face into the pillow. He follows after you with a gasp, his large body covering you like a cocoon. 

He kisses the nape of your neck. Between your shoulder blades. His cock stills inside you, but he doesn’t pull out until he softens completely. When you stop shaking, he turns you over. 

“There’s my angel,” he says fondly. “Thought you passed out on me.”

You shake your head. He smiles lazily, leaning to kiss you all over your face. 

Your bones feel like jelly, but you still switch your positions with intent, and to your surprise, he lets you. Naked and breathing heavily above him, you examine him with his hair spread out on the pillow, cheeks flushed and cherubic. He almost looks innocent. 

He groans at the way your leaking cunt grinds on his crotch, prompting him to get half-hard already. He grabs your hips at the same time you grab the base of his throat. He laughs. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You blink twice and your eyes glaze over. 

In your vision, you see Suguru’s face flashing you his usual grin, this time showing all his teeth as blood drips from his chin. When you look down at your hands, they’re saturated in the same red. He kisses you despite it all and you understand. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I do.”

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay pt.2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: After chasing you down, Peter catches you in the forest and things get ... spicy

A/N: Hi!! So, I know it's been a year since the first part, but I felt inspired, and I love that you guys enjoyed it! THERE IS A SPICY SCENE AT THE END OF THIS PART! I indicated it in case anyone doesn't want to read some nasty; you can skip it. :) I don't ever do NSFW scenes, but I felt like this needed it.

I am expecting to write a part 3, but I was requested to make something angsty, so the next part will wrap up this little series, but not in a happily ever after. So if you want something sweet and happy, you can stop this little series with this part, but if you want something angsty, you can keep going to part 3 (whenever that comes out) and feel some sad girl summer. But enjoy this and let me know what you think! If y'all hate it, I'm deleting it... jk jk .....

I Told You To Stay Pt. 1

What a compromising situation you found yourself in. Arms pinned above your head, held against a tree staring up into some very angry, yet worrying, eyes, you can’t help but want to laugh at your position. Figures, this is what you get for slipping out the window and running into the woods like hell hounds were nipping at your heels. But in all fairness, your actions were warranted. 

How else were you supposed to react when Peter brought you back to his secret cabin after spending a romantic night together and then suddenly, Wendy is at said so-called “secret cabin” calling him ‘baby’ and trying to rub up on him? Regardless of Peter’s denials, it’s hard to believe that truth when she was standing right in front of you.

“I thought I told you to stay,” Peter says in a threateningly calm voice. 

“Let me go, Peter.” You tried to keep your voice calm, trying to seem nonchalant. You kept your face passive, but there was a war of emotions inside of you. 

You felt hurt. Angry. Embarrassed. Betrayed. And as much as you were trying to suppress it, you felt …. yearning. Even through all this, your heart was still looking for him in the darkness. It skipped and leaped in happiness that he was here. That he came racing after you. That he came looking for you when Wendy was probably waiting for him back at the cabin. The thought of her cause a bite of anger to shoot through you.

“Go back to Wendy, Peter.” You clipped.

“I told you to stay.” His voice was deadly. Deadly to your nerves and deadly to your heart.

Squeezing your eyes shut and blowing out a breath of frustration, trying desperately to get a hold of your temper that you could feel rising. “Go back to your cabin, Peter. Let me go.”

“I told you to stay. All you had to do was stay.” He snarled right back as if you hadn’t said a word and he had the audacity to sound upset with you!

Your eyes shot open and in a burst of adrenaline, you yanked your hands free and shoved against his chest, blurting “Let me go! You lied! I trusted you! I trusted you when everyone else laughed at me and you lied to me!” Shock flashed in his face quickly before he was able to hide it. You have never lost your temper or shown an ounce of venom since you’ve arrived to Neverland. 

You pushed at his chest and tried to shove up off the tree to make your escape, but he wasn’t budging. Instead of stepping back to give you the space you desperately wanted, he stepped into you. Your hands pressed against his chest and your back pressed into the tree. Your bodies were flesh against each other now.

“I have never lied to you, Y/N.” 

Scoffing in disbelief, your rising temper spoke for you, “You said that you and Wendy weren’t together.”

“Again. I have never lied to you.” He growled. 

“Oh really?” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “It didn’t look that way to me. My mistake. It definitely didn’t look like she was cozy in your place and on your body. Peter, I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t want any part of it. It looks like Wendy is already in the picture so I don’t want any part of this!” 

“Y/N, would you please just listen to me. I’ll explain everything.”

“I’ve been asking you to explain! I’ve been asking for months and you’ve avoided giving me even an ounce of clarity and now is when you want to explain?! Now that I’ve seen things clearly with my own eyes? I’m supposed to have faith in my feelings towards you but I have to ignore the proof right in front of me? The pair of you are playing mother and father all over this island and I’m supposed to ignore that?!”

“It is not like that.” He snapped, his own frustration growing. 

He went to grab your hands again but you batted them away. Pushing and shoving at his chest, you were desperate to get away. Feeling frantic, the anger you’ve been trying to smother was starting to bubble and rise to the surface. But now your feelings were out of control. Laying too close to the surface was your frustration, hurt, confusions and yearning. Somehow in all of this, your heart was still looking for him in the darkness. Feeling pinned and trapped, the frustration was bringing tears to your eyes.  

“Just listen, Y/N-”

“Get off me!”  

Fed up with your pats and pushes, Peter finally shoved your hands aside and firmly cupped your face. Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours, his fingers cradling the back of your head creating a warm cocoon of just you and him. 

 “My dear sweet, Y/N. Listen to me. I know asking you to put your trust in me is not a fair ask but I’m going to do it anyway. I have my reasons for keeping Wendy on this island, but I promise you, it’s not romantic. I have … suspicions about her that I need to resolve before I can decide what to do with her. But please just trust in me.” The sweetness of his soft voice and his request soaked into your heart the way watercolor soaks into fine paper. His softness and intimacy drained the fight from you, leaving you with only hurt. 

Not wanting to fall for his tricks and continue this loop, you whisper, “Please don’t do this, Peter. These mind games, I-I-I can’t! I’m too tired and too weak to survive you. Please-”

But before you could tell him off, he interrupts, “I know it’ll sound like an easy excuse or some made up lie but I’m telling the truth. I’m going to need your trust because it’ll sound like I’m paranoid, but I promise, this isn’t some easy way out excuse…. just something isn’t right with her. And things haven’t been right since she’s gotten here. I can feel a change in Neverland, but I can’t figure out what she’s done. I’ve caught her rifling through my things and trying to follow me. I’ve been letting her and acting as though I haven’t noticed, but only so that I can figure out what she is trying to do. But that’s how she found my cabin before. I didn’t take her there and I didn’t tell her about it, but she knows about it because she followed me one night. I’m telling you the truth. Just let me figure out what is going on and I’ll get rid of her.” His voice was earnest, like he was being honest but there was a whisper of doubt in the back of your mind. 

Maybe he was being truthful? But I haven’t noticed any changes in the island. But I guess I arrived around the same time Wendy did and didn’t know what it was like before. But he could also be lying just to keep me placated. 

Sensing your doubts, Peter tilts your head up and plants his lips on yours. One of his hands slide to the back of your nape to hold you steady for his onslaught of your mouth. His mouth was soft and warm. Sweet and demanding. Fervent but nervous. A man yet still a boy.

Tears finally slip down your face as you went the unwanted relief that washed over you. How could you want this man so much, a man you weren’t even sure if you could trust, but needed desperately. A man that made you weak with want but afraid of the fall. Against your lips, he whispers, “Please, Y/N, please,” but his kisses never stop and your heart tugs with every quiver you could feel from his lips. What was he asking for? What else could he want from you? But whatever it was … you knew you would give it to him. 

“Trust in me. I’m begging you, just trust in me. Let me show you. Come back to the cabin, I sent her away, you’ll see, she’s not there anymore.”

“It’s not just the cabin, Peter. It’s everything. She’s everywhere. I see you guys-”

“But have you ever seen me affectionate with her? Never. It’s never been like that. She might be donned the title of Lost Mother or whatever, but that doesn’t have any association to me. It’s all for the boys.”

“Peter-” He cut in before you could argue.

“Please. Just trust in me. Just enough so that I can prove it to you. Then decide for yourself, but for right now, just trust in me enough. Come back with me tonight. Don’t leave me.” And that was it. That was when your resolve broke and there was nothing you could do but pay heed to his request. With your heart in your throat, throwing caution to the wind, you return his kiss tenfold; letting your actions answer for you. 

~~~ it’s nasty time, ladies and gentlemen ~~~~

Your hands cup his jaw and you push up on your toes, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth in invitation and he accepts instantly. His tongues rushes in to meet and dance with yours; a happy reunion. His groan of relief vibrates through your body and your core tightens in excitement. Squeezing your thighs together to find any sort of relief and you run your hands down his chest to grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Suddenly, Peter reaches down and hooks his arms behind your thighs before hoisting you up, your back against the tree and your legs wrapped around his hip, only his body keeping you suspended. The dress that you were wearing rides up high on your thigh and the cold air swirls against your burning skin cause goose bumps were pebble in their wake. Peter uses his hips to keep you pin against the tree but that meant that your could feel his hard member resting against your sex. 

Peter shoves his face into the crook of your neck and suckles and nibbles all along any exposed skin. His hands were gripping and kneading your ass as he was supporting your weight. Almost like he couldn’t help himself, Peter rocks his hips into yours pulling a gasp from you and a groan from him at the sudden delicious friction. “What have you done to me, Y/N? I can feel your grip on your mind and I can do nothing to stop you. You’ve bewitched me. All I could ever need is you, like this.” His whispered breath skates across your skin, burning your ears and curling your toes. 

Giving him easier access to your skin, your eyes close and your head rolls to the side. Unbeknwnsts to you, this movement causes the strap of your dress to slip off your shoulders, the top of your dress falling slightly, giving Peter a perfect view of the tops of your breast. You felt one of his hands tease up your legs and in between your flushed bodies. He pulls your panties to the side and your feel his fingers delve into your folds. You let out a small whimper as he hits his mark, using your wetness, he swirls his expert fingers around your clit with ease. “Peter, please.” His name fell from your lips like a prayer, causing his to chuckle and you yelp in surprise as he plants a firm bite on your neck, causing threads of pleasure down your spine. Your breast felt heavy and achy with need, every pant from you causing your nipples to rub against his chest. Your hips are now rolling on their own accord, moving in time with his torturing fingers.

“You keep begging sweetly like that and I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you right here. I’m barely holding onto my reserve right now, Y/N. I want nothing more than to throw you down and have my fill of you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me to stop right now.” 

Sighing dreamily, you tease, “Weren’t you the one who started this, hmm?” His movements slowed to a stop, and he simply held you for a long moment. Your heart felt like it was floating and soaring through the cloud, butterflies in your stomach as his breath fanned against your breast. “Yeah well … I’ve never been the reasonable one, have I?” You felt his smirk against your neck before it disappeared in his seriousness, “If you want me to stop, Y/N, you have to let me know now.” 

“You’ll stop if I ask?” Your whisper was barely heard as it floated through the silent night.

He was silent for a moment before he responded, “I would. It would kill me but I would. I would do anything you asked of me, Y/N. I would steal the moon for you if you asked it of me. Please … just stay with me.”

Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you envelop the precious bundle that was clingy to you like you were his life source. How could you deny him? Tilting your head towards him so that you lips ghosted over his ear, you whisper, “I need you, Peter. Are you going to make me beg?”

You let out a started gasp as he shot to life. Your hands falling away from him and bracing behind you against the tree as one of his hands shot down to undo his pants while the other ripped the top of your dress down the middle, leaving the two sides falling open and revealing your body to him. Your dress hung loosely, like a belt wrapped around your waist now, your breasts exposed to the cool air causing your nipples to pebble. Suddenly his naked cock was dragging between your wet lips as he rocked against you, coating it with your arousal. Peter pushed to have his body flush against yours again and his face back in your neck, one hand went back to your ass while the other grabbed and squeezed at your breast. 

“Y/N. I need you. Hard and fast. I can’t think straight and having you like this is pushing me towards the brink of insanity. I can’t control myself right now.” 

“Don’t hold back, Peter. I need you, just as you are.” 

A pleasured cry and a “oh my god” was ripped from you when Peter lifted you and slid you the whole way down, taking his whole cock inside you until you were sitting flush against his thigh. “Oh, fuck, Y/N. My dreams are nothing compared to this.” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he used you to milk his cock; using you to ride him. His arm flexing to lift you and his hips slamming up to meet you. His pace was brutal. His strength had you slamming down with a force that made your muscles squeeze and pulse with every thrust. Your cries were loud and obscene but his growls and grunt were feral; only causing you to react more frantically. Your hips your rolling to meet his thrusts and the strong kneading on your achy breasts and bites along your neck was almost too much to bare. In and out. In and out. Every slide and every slam sending pleasure to the tops of your head to the tips of your toes.

Then suddenly, his hand was there again, right on your clit with enough pressure that cause nearly painful pleasure. He continued to buck into you like a wild animal, your muscles clenched like a vice in satisfaction. He swirled and flicked with such precision as though he knew exactly what you felt and knew what you needed. Your head was swimming with arosual, your toes curling and your back arching against the rough texture on your back, cause little delicious scratches to scrape there. “Peter, I’m right there. Cum with me. I need you.” 

He slammed his lips into yours, drinking in all your cries, and his efforts doubled, then all at once, he stilled and groaned into your mouth, and he shook and emptied into you. Sweaty and panting, you both held each other, desperate to catch your breaths. After a few calm and blissful minutes, Peter softly kisses your jaw and whispers, “Come back with me, Y/N. Stay with me.”

With your eyes closed, your head rolled back, and your smile pointing up towards the dark sky, you whisper, “Ok, Peter. Take me home.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Told You To Stay Pt. 1

tags: @fandom-fae @mmikeypopcornperil @layla2-49 @sjisfindingneverland @rainbow-alilou @hirohard0 @kaypan9909 @riordanness @vampbloodbunny2 @mk-the-great @fightformidnightx @lanelovesdilfs @queeniemariel @ariaroseloklover @quackitysdrugdealer @wildcatglove13 @james-800 @impossiblesaladwerewolf @bellarose-24

[lizzieisright]

Tranquility

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.

Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.

wc: 3.7k

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine). 

So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day. 

You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully. 

And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better. 

And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger. 

"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."

"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"

"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.

"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically. 

"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.

"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby." 

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."

Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.

"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning. 

"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around. 

"Am I too heavy?"

"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."

Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth. 

"Yeah, okay. We can do that."

Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her. 

"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one. 

You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.

"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it. 

"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care? 

"What is this?"

"Sylvia Plath's diaries."

"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe. 

"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."

You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable. 

"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear. 

"Yeah. It's so weird though."

You chuckle.

"In what way?"

"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."

"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."

"Are you a thesaurus?" 

You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches. 

You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny. 

"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her. 

"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."

"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"

Abby looks at you with a lifted brow. 

"You think I'm going to say no?"

"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."

Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…

Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit. 

"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is. 

It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this. 

So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch. 

"Thanks." 

Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her. 

Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her. 

"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."

"I don't think pretty is the right word."

"Beautiful?"

Abby huffs but can't help her smile.

"Gorgeous?"

"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."

You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get. 

You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps. 

"Feels nice?"

"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."

"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."

Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe. 

Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away. 

"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"

Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour. 

"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile. 

"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone. 

"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."

"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you. 

"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits. 

"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.

You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before. 

You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.

Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head. 

“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy. 

“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”

Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips. 

"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now. 

The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies. 

Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on. 

"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"

Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed. 

"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way. 

"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally. 

"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point. 

"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop. 

"You wanna cum already?"

"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.

"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it. 

"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"

"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.

"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.

"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?" 

Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle. 

"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."

Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods. 

"Good girl." 

That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it. 

"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her. 

Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her. 

And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away. 

"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before. 

You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer. 

"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"

"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much. 

"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."

But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-

"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her. 

Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out. 

"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."

"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls. 

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.

“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”

Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.

“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”

The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.

[little-lost-lamb]

The Sting of Envy

CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, mention of kids (kinda?), Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, Asmo's part is suggestive, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!

_____________________________________________________________

Of course you moved in with Solomon when you went back to the human realm. It only made sense; it’s a big realm after all, and you needed to be close to your teacher. To your demons, however, it was a decision that they did not like to think about. Would Solomon try something funny? What did you do together? Did you enjoy a level of domestic human bliss your demons could only dream of? Or were you largely independent of each other?

They’d probably be delusional if they thought this wasn’t right, that this isn’t where you actually belong. Safe, happy, with other humans. With Solomon. But your demons miss you desperately.

So when you invite everyone to a Beltane party to break in yours and Solomon’s new place together, even Barbatos arranges to ensure he and Diavolo can attend. No one would dare turn it down. Even if it results in envy eating away the very muscle of their hearts.

_____________________________________________________________

Lucifer

His head is swimming from glass number…2…3? He had lost count of how many glasses of red wine he had drunk at this point, but certainly more than intended. How could he not? He had to drink to try to quell the emptiness he felt seeing you thrive here, without him. Don’t get him wrong, there’s pride in this as well - he’s always proud of you. So Proud. How independent you are here. You’re so capable, so strong. You don’t need him to protect you like he did in the Devildom.

As much as he would never admit it, he adored that dependency you had with him. But not here. This is your home, your domain. What hurts the most is that, if you do need help here, you won’t be summoning him - not unless it’s something very important. You’ll call Solomon. Your roommate. He can’t bear to think of this arrangement as anything but plutonic. But he wants you to know you can lean on him for anything.

The alcohol impedes his ability to bury these emotions in the backyard of his brain. They’re inescapable. He feels the familiar sting of tears threatening to form on his lash line. You don’t need him.

“Lucifer, I need you!” 

What? 

“Can you come here for a moment? I can’t reach this serving dish.” 

He stumbles slightly from the wine as he shuffles into your kitchen and watches as you balance unsteadily on one foot, reaching helplessly and futilely at a dish perched on the top shelf. Lucifer’s eyes flit back to Solomon, his nose in his own wine glass, chuckling obliviously at some joke form Asmodeus. He saunters to your side, almost huffing. 

“Why don’t you ask Solomon? It is his home after all.” he says, more pointedly than intended.

“Huh? Are you kidding? Look at this cabinet! He’s taller than I am, but he’s still an average-sized human. He can’t reach up here either. We usually have to get a ladder or use magic. I know you can reach it easily though. C’mon, or are you really going to make me go get the ladder when you’re right here?”

Lucifer sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t hide the prideful curve of his lips. He approaches you from behind, softly resting one hand on your  waist  as he effortlessly grabs the dish and sets it gently down on the counter in front of you.

“Besides,” You lean your weight back into him, craning your neck back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I would rather you be the one to help me. I’ll always come to you for help when I need it.”

He blinks rapidly a few times, fighting the sting of his lash line once more as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the warmth of your neck

“Say it again.”

Mammon

“I have a little Beltane gift for you, MC.” Mammon’s ear perks up as overhears Solomon talking about gifts. It had better not be cooler than mine, he thinks, thumbing over his own gift for you hidden in his pocket. 

He can’t help but to peek around the corner to check out this inferior gift of Solomon’s. Mammon immediately feels put to shame by the presentation alone. The box is wrapped in brown paper, twine, and pressed human realm wildflowers, probably picked by Solomon himself. Fuck.

“Oh, no, I wish I had known!” Your brow furrows as you look up at Solomon. “I...didn’t get you anything.”

“Unnecessary.” Solomon assures you. “It’s nothing big, just something I noticed you needed.”

You smile at him and shyly open the gift, carefully handling the flowers and setting them aside to keep. Instead of an expression of delight at the box’s contents, your face falls into an expression that can best be described as guilt. 

“Solomon, I…this is so nice. Too nice. I couldn’t possibly accept something like this without having gotten you anything!” 

Humble as ever, Mammon thought, as you pulled out a new pair of leather boots. They seemed cool, well-made, designer. Not that you ever really cared about that stuff. You were modest and practical, and Mammon admired you for it. He wished he could be like you in this way. Of course, he could never turn down free designer boots. 

“MC. I have had 3000 years for my fortune to collect interest. I can absolutely afford to replace your boots - which you have worn the soles out of, by the way. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You needed new ones. Please allow me this.” Solomon softly grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Mammon felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Interest” is a concept barely comprehensible to him. More familiar concepts are: “debt,” and “overdraft.” Broke. He wished he could give you anything - everything. He would spend every cent he had to adorn you in the most stylish clothes, the comfiest shoes, the shiniest jewels. He'd take you on luxurious vacations, just the two of you, to the most romantic locations in the demon realm. He would spoil you rotten. But he couldn’t - not like Solomon could. Solomon, who lives here, in this modest home with you, living like he doesn’t have a royal fortune on reserve somewhere (somewhere Mammon desperately wished he could get his hands on.) Solomon, who doesn’t waste every grimm he has gambling and splurging until he is broke enough to wait tables in a seductive bunny outfit and appease giggling, gawking beings who are not you.

Suddenly, the baggy in his pocket felt like a boulder. In actuality, the baggie’s contents are lightweight, small, and…free. But he’ll be damned to the circles before he gives up an opportunity to spoil you. 

He waits for a rare moment when you are alone, preparing something in the kitchen for the party, then he makes his move.

“MC.” 

You turn to him as he calls you, your face lighting up by his mere presence. And of course you would be happy by the presence of the Great Mammon, your first man. And maybe that would count for something when you open his gift, paling in comparison to the one just presented by Solomon. His cheeks tinge as he holds out the bag, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with his free hand. 

“Here. For you. Think of it as a gift for the host.”

“Oh, Mamms! You didn’t have to do thi-...” You’re rendered silent as you pull out a delicate, homemade bracelet. Your smile again drops, but this time it morphs into an expression of awe. You inspect it closer, sliding the colorful beads of a friendship bracelet until you reach letters.

T - R - E - A - S - U - R - E

“Mammon…”

“I-It ain’t  much! I know it ain’t, not what ya deserve, but… My luck was lousy at the track this weekend. I didn’t have much left, but I still wanted to get ya somethin’. Borrowed some stuff from Levi. He makes things like this for his “faves, waifus, husbandos,” or whatever, and he wears ‘em to think about ‘em.  I thought maybe…you could do that t-...”

Suddenly the wind is knocked from his lungs as you throw yourself at him, flinging your arms tight around his waist.

“I love it. I love it so much. I’m going to wear it every day we’re apart. Would you put it on for me?”

Mammon makes no effort to hide his satisfied grin. He slides on your homemade friendship bracelet, made with all the love in his heart, while the expensive new boots Solomon gifted you lay untouched in the box next to your shoe rack.

Leviathan

It’s too much. It’s all too much. Levi groans and clenches his stomach, the discomfort on his face apparent.

“I…ugh…I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom?” Levi quickly darts in the direction Solomon casually points as Asmodeus calls after him, frustration in his tone. “I told you not to eat the leftover rainbow pizza when you knew we were about to come here to eat!”

“Yeah,” chimed Beel, “I wanted it to tide me over until dinner.” Beel clenched his own stomach, though likely feeling a different kind of discomfort than Leviathan. Levi doesn’t look back as he storms into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

“Hey! Easy!” he hears Solomon’s muffled scorn, but he doesn’t care. Not when he is in so much agony. 

“It hurts, fuck…” He clenches the lip of the sink, desperately trying to control himself. And it would be so much easier if everyone else could get it together. Every one of them, he felt all of it; every one of them, all at once, seething with envy. The air was practically miasmic with it, and he had to feel the envy of all. of. them. His own was unbearable enough. He raised his face to the mirror, examining his red-tinged sclera and furrowed brows. Then something more interesting catches his tearing eyes.

No. No no no. Are you kidding him? Toothbrushes. Two toothbrushes, one no doubt Solomon’s…and one yours. The mug they’re in, is that…a Disney World cup? Did he take you to DISNEY WORLD?? The cute, fantastical mouse-themed amusement park in the human world? Where you wear matching outfits and hold hands and ride ridES AND BUY MERCH AND EAT JUNK FOOD AND…

He could feel himself hyperventilating until he finally lost control of his human form, his tailing unfurling and his horns erupting from his messy hair. 

He wanted to go to the mouse park with you! HIM! He wanted to share a toothbrush cup and home and host a dinner for his family with you! IT SHOULD BE HIM!!! 

Before his mind even knew what his body was doing, he found himself curling pathetically up into your bathtub. He spotted a pink bottle of something on the edge, and as he rested his head against the porcelain, he caught a whiff of the gloopy substance inside. It was shampoo. It smelled like you. And Solomon got to smell it every day.

It was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge. The anger of the envy he felt fizzled up all at once, leaving nothing but the despair. He choked out a muffled sob, one he futilely tried to catch with his hand before it fell through his fingers. He curled up tighter around himself and sobbed softly, just begging that no one hear him.

Knock knock knock knock.

He ignores it. That is, until he hears the door gently open. He seriously forgot to lock the door?! Way to go, Levi!

“Levi.” You step in and close the door behind you, looking at him sympathetically. There isn’t an ounce of surprise on your visage seeing him curled up in the tub. “What’s going on?”

He hides his face again, hoping you didn’t see his tear stained cheeks. Suddenly, he feels you step into the porcelain, lay down, and wrap yourself around him.

“I’m sorry it’s not very clean in here. I didn’t really expect any of you to go into the tub.” You squeeze him ever so much tighter. “You’re hurting me, did you realize that?”

“I…what?”

He flinches as you curl down the waist of your pants - just enough for his pact mark to peak out from the waistband. The skin around the sigil is red and agitated, as if it had been freshly branded onto you all over again. His mark, as he knew well, was the biggest you had, enveloping your hip and thigh. After Mammon greedily claimed the space over your heart, his jealousy made sure his was the biggest one you’d ever have. He watches you wince slightly as you pull the band back up over your stomach and feather your fingers over your thigh. 

“It’s hurting my heart too. To feel you hurting like this.”

“Disney.”

“…Disney?”

Levi sighs and hesitantly glances at you from his periphery.

“Everyone is so jealous right now. All of them. Even Barbatos! It’s suffocating me. They’re probably jealous of you being here, living with Solomon, and him having you all to himself. He’s shady, who knows what he’ll try! And I’m jealous too, you know! Of course I am! And then…then I saw your toothbrushes. And your cup. You must have gone together. And I want to go with you…” 

His voice fades to a whisper, every ounce of his energy sapped by the envy radiating within the house. You are quiet for a moment.

“Do you know why he took me?”

 Levi barely cared, but he listened anyway. 

“Barbatos stopped by one day. He had some kind of business with Three Crows and took the opportunity to say hello. He mentioned that Diavolo and you guys were all at Devilcat Land that day. After Barb left, I was so sad, wishing I could have been there with everyone. With you.”

This got Levi’s attention, and he huffs out a short burst of disbelieving laughter.

“We had to leave early because I started crying on the teacups. It made me think about that time,” you interrupt yourself with an involuntary chuckle, "that you spun our cup so fast that Lucifer threw up! The Avatar of Pride! Spun a little too fast and threw up in a Devilcat trash can!” 

Levi softens, laughing with you, his grip around you tightening.

“Don’t be jealous.” You press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips, wet with tears. “Because I miss you every day.”

Satan

He knew he must have mirrored Lucifer’s body language, brooding over his glass of red wine, but he was too mad to care. Maybe “mad” wasn't precise. His eyes went to Levi, his face contorted with some sort of discomfort and clutching his stomach. Asmodeus made  a comment about Levi’s upset stomach, but Satan was too emotionally intelligent to believe it was his lunch from earlier that ails him: he must be overwhelmed by everyone’s envy.  Levi’s. The rest of his brothers’. Satan’s.

Satan kept it hidden well, of course. It was what he did constantly and what he did best - keeping his emotions in check. His expression had yet to falter and his tail remained concealed as he perused the selection of your bookshelf. He allowed himself a subtle smile, seeing some of the books he had loaned you. He spies a few books that seem like human realm bestsellers he didn’t recognize, but he hoped you’d loan him later if they were any good. He trusted your taste in literature. A few magical reference books, and…oh please… The Lesser Key of Solomon. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How pompous to have a copy of your own book in your own house. He could feel his irritation rising.

“MEOW.”

His head immediately snaps to the source of the familiar sound. A small, adorable, yellow cat prances right up Solomon, nuzzling his precious fluffy face on his leg. Solomon shifts his attention to the cat and scritches his chin. “Oh! There you are.”

Satan’s head goes fuzzy, his ears buzz, and his heart practically drops into his feet. This was it.  He felt the barbs of his tail flick against his ankle and fortunately had the wherewithal to wrap it around his leg before it hurt someone. He stares, jaw hanging, mouth agape. You have a cat together.

“You…have a cat together…” His tone is somewhere between a question and a statement. The displeasure is now apparent on his face. 

They have a cat together.

“No!”  Satan is grounded by your cry and the thunder of legs pattering down the stairs. “He was supposed to be a surprise!” You hurry down in a frazzled state and scoop the cat up into your arms.

“Tch. He’s not my cat.” Solomon finally teases. “He’s mostly MC’s. We found him wandering outside soon after we moved in here. Ask MC what they named him. I wanted to name him Abraham.” 

Still, Solomon stares fondly at the cat, and holds his paw between his thumb and index fingers. For a moment, it almost sounded like Solomon’s tone had a hint of jealousy of its own. You carry the bundle of fluff over to Satan. You give the kitty a loving kiss on the forehead before passing him to Satan’s oh-so-eager arms. Satan runs a finger over the cat’s green collar until he finds the name tag. He flips over the little silver fish to reveal the cat’s name.

Satan Jr.

The flush on Satan’s cheeks creep across his entire face, ears and all. 

“I know Lucifer won’t let you keep one, not after the incident. I thought, maybe…he could be our cat. And, you know, mostly live with me. But still!”

Satan peered down wide-eyed at the bundle of fluff, already so comfortable in his arms. Satan Jr.? Theirs?? It felt almost like…this cat was their child. In an instant, every ounce of fury that had built up in his body was transmuted to bliss. He arranged Satan Jr. in his arms so he was pressed against his chest, caressing him like he might his own spawn.

“Then I suppose we have a cat together.”

He tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unbridled joy on his face and the brightness in his smile.

Asmodeus

He is definitely seeing something he shouldn’t - but he can’t look away.

It’s perhaps one of the most beautifully surreal scenes he’s witnessed since his time in the Celestial Realm, yet it’s so unapologetically human.

He had initially been drawn to the sound of your sweet voice, singing as clear as crystal rims in the echoes of the kitchen while you watched over the honey cakes in the oven. He was pulled in as if it were a siren’s song, but it wasn’t. It was beautiful you. 

He stopped himself from joining you when he heard Solomon’s voice, equally beautiful and equally moving, begin to duet your own. 

Perhaps the song had started one day as one of you overhearing the other, recognizing the melody, and clumsily singing along. Now, however, it was like some kind of hauntingly beautiful mating call between two human lovers. Your voices were intertwined, complimenting each other, rehearsed. You two must have sung this together often.

Asmodeus couldn’t help but peek at his two favorite humans in the kitchen, but now he almost wishes he hadn’t. 

Because what he sees when he peers in is the two of you, dancing slowly and softly together as you sing your beautiful melody to each other. Solomon smiles and stares lovingly into your eyes as your cheeks flush and you sing your line. The adoration in Solomon’s gaze is unmistakable. His hand in your hand, Solomon softly rocks you to the music the two of you create together. The golden hour sun lights up every single color on your irises and peppers your skin with the rainbows from the suncatchers you’ve hung in the kitchen window. 

From the open window pours a warm spring breeze that lifts your hair to dance in the currents, and assaults Asmodeus’ face with the sweet scent of spring flowers and…you. 

It is ethereal. 

To see such beauty completely removed from himself begins to arouse envy in his chest. This kind of beauty is unique to humanity, and he cannot be a part of it. But it is not you he is envious of.

Asmodeus loved Solomon. He did. But he had felt the kind of love he feels with Solomon before and will likely feel it again. You, though. You. You made him experience that agony and euphoria of being in love. A feeling he thought he was completely incapable of. Until you.

But if his favorite humans were mates, then…that made sense right? You make sense together. And Asmodeus could have his pick of anyone else in the three realms. Maybe he could even convince the two of you to let him in on things. So why did it hurt so much?

“Apologies, darling apprentice, but I saw your grimoire open this morning. You’re working on a Beltane ritual, yes?”

The singing stopped, but Solomon’s grip on you remained. Asmo could still hear Solomon’s voice despite his hushed tone, because he could pick up the tone of seduction anywhere. While ordinarily Asmodeus would appreciate the game, the honey in Solomon’s words to you made him sick. 

Even as a human realm holiday, Asmodeus had heard of Baltane. This one, after all, was adjacent to his domain: a holiday of flames, fertility, and…

“I could help, if you’d like me too. We can even jump over the flame together this year. Wouldn’t that be fun? Then, once we prepare, we can perform the ritual.” Though Solomon whispers against your ear, Asmodeus can faintly make out Solomon purring, “Sex magic is very powerful.”

And with that, Asmodeus was gone. He’d already seen too much. 

After dinner, as Asmo shoved his arm through the white, leather sleeve of his jacket to leave, he wondered how he could distract himself from yours and Solomon’s…ritual…later. Perhaps he could find someone at The Fall to drown his sorrows in. After all, it’s not like you and Asmo were exclusive. You could fuck whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t care, he lied to himself. He’s shaken from his jealous slurry of thoughts by a warm hand on his forearm.

“Asmo, wait!”

He takes a deep breath before turning to face you. “I had a great time tonight, hun, thanks for inviting us! I have to get going, but-“

“I need your help with a ritual tonight!” 

Your cheeks flush and your eyes sparkle as you look at him. You’re projecting an air of shyness, but Asmodeus can smell it in your pheromones, no mistake. Lust. You were simply adorable. “P-please.”

Ah, interesting. So the ritual wasn’t meant to be performed with Solomon. It never was. How embarrassing for Solomon. Amusement dances in his eyes thinking about you rejecting his advance mere moments after he had walked away. Solomon would be spending the night of Beltane alone, while Asmo…

The corners of Asmodeus’ mouth curl into a dangerous smile and he gently pulls you into him by your hips.

“It’s Beltane, is it not? What kind of ritual could you need me for, darling?”

You’re silent a moment, the blush dusting your cheeks deepening by the second. “It’s Beltane.” You respond.

“Well, well…” You could practically see the hearts in his eyes just before he gently pulled your mouth to his, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He murmurs against your lips in a deep, seductive tone, “Blessed Beltane.”

Part 2 ->

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

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[pastryfication]

Hi! So um, I *most likely* am going through perimenopause at a very young age and I'm just so emotional all the time -- I cry a lot lately and I just wonder if you could wrote something about Oscar dealing with the up and downs of his girlfriend's emotions? Thank youuuuuu!

hi!! thank you for the request 🫶 i hope this was what you imagined! i’m so sorry for the delay…

emotional highs

pairing: oscar piastri x emotional!reader

warnings: mentions of tears and medication.

you had always been emotional. crying during sad movies, crying when someone did something nice for you, crying when you saw someone happy; it was all normal for you. but lately, it had been even worse than normal.

it seemed your emotions had finally reached their peak, and even the smallest of gestures could make your emotions go crazy.

it was frustrating. incredibly so. you felt like you didn’t have control of your own body. like it acted on its own accord without asking your brain for permission first.

oscar saw how frustrated it made you, and he so desperately wanted to help, but there was not much he could do. holding you whenever you needed him to was the only source of comfort he could bring you. and that frustrated him.

he couldn’t just stand back and watch. he needed to help you more. and so, he asked kim for help, hoping trainer would have the answer.

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ———

“baby, are you home?” he called out through your apartment, pharmacy bag clutched tightly in his hand.

“in here!” you replied, standing up from the sofa where you had been sitting.

walking towards you with hurried steps, his bright grin met you in mere seconds. your usual routine of a welcome home kiss was quickly done, and oscar instead pushed you down to sit on the couch again.

“so i know that you said to just let you be emotional, and i have no problem with you being that. i will comfort you as much as you need me to for as long as you want, but …” he trailed off for a moment, shyly looking down at his shoes. “but i asked kim for help, and he gave me these herb pills that supposedly should help if you’re going through a perimenopause. and i know that you most likely aren’t! but your symptoms just match and i thought we could at least try …”

you looked up at him with surprise. this was not what you expected.

noticing your eyes glazing over, oscar immediately panicked.

“love, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—“

“oscar,” you caught him off, your voice trembling slightly. “that’s so sweet. you’re so sweet.” your voice broke as a small sob escaped you. “i love you so much.”

oscar stepped forward as fast as he could, enveloping you in a tight embrace. you buried your face in his neck, enjoying the feeling of hiding away in your favourite place.

“i love you more.” he whispered into your hair. peppering small kisses on the top of your head while caressing your back with small touches.

he hoped the medicine would work. he so desperately hoped it would make you feel more like yourself again. but no matter what, no matter what happened, he would always be there to comfort you. you would always be more than welcome to hide away in his arms.

[d1xonss]

Older | Part 2

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.7k

AN ~ Ask and you shall receive:)) I also made sure to tag a few people that seemed to really like the last one! ps- This is my first time ever attempting to write actual smut so it's safe to say I am extremely nervous to put this out there. Writing smut vs reading smut are very two different things I've come to find out lol. But I hope it's good enough and I hope you guys like it!

(Make sure to read part 1 first if you haven’t already!!)

The night before had been a whirlwind of different emotions. Something you weren’t totally expecting. But it happened. He was practically begging you, seconds from getting down on his knees to plead. But then you were unexpectedly dragged away from the whole interaction, and you hadn’t seen him since.

It was a lot to take in. Though at the same time it really wasn’t. You had what you wanted now laying in the palm of your hand, all you really had to do now was act on it. He expressed how he felt about you, told you just how much he wanted you just as you wanted him, you heard everything you wanted to hear. And in your mind, you didn’t want to drag it out any further than you already had. Because you had to admit, you found yourself growing just as desperate as he was at just the mere thought of him. The thought of him beneath you, panting and groaning, it was getting you all worked up as you daydreamed about it. But it didn’t have to be a daydream, not anymore.

You didn’t know what you completely planned to do yet, but a thought crossed your mind about inviting him over to your house, maybe for dinner. The setting would be perfect, the timing would be perfect, and you knew that he would be perfect. It was really all about finding him now to ask him officially, to which you knew he would say yes. But you also slowly realized that you had absolutely nothing left in your house to cook. So you decided to make a quick trip down to the pantry, to pick up just a few simple things as you went over in your head over the options you could make.

Though unbeknownst to you, Daryl was pacing around in his own home, thinking wildly about the whole interaction just a few hours prior. The things he said, the way he sounded. He felt like such an idiot now, knowing that the whole thing was pretty much ruined ever since Carol took you by the arm and away from him. Practically hogging you for the entire rest of the night. He didn’t know how to fix this, but what seemed to be worrying him the most was he didn’t exactly know whether or not you were going to agree. It was hard to tell in the moment, but thinking back on it now, it really could’ve gone either way in his mind.

But suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks as movement outside his window seemed to catch his attention. It was you. Making your way down the streets and heading straight for the pantry it seemed like. He stood frozen for what felt like hours, thinking over how he should approach it, or if he should even approach it at all. The thoughts clouding his mind were enough to make his head spin, but ultimately the older man did know what he wanted. You knew what he wanted. He just confessed every little thing last night, he figured now the least he could do now was talk to you about it.

So with that, he rushed out of his house in hopes of catching you before you had a chance to leave the building, hoping that the pantry itself was free of anyone else so he could speak with you privately. His steps were fast and heavy, his worn boots slapping on the concrete with how fast he appeared to move. In just a split second he was already at the front door, opening it a bit quietly to peer inside, seeing your back facing him as you picked through the food, taking note that there was no one else around.

He stepped in the space as silently as he could, approaching you almost with caution it seemed like as he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. Though the man couldn’t see your face, a smirk was playing on your lips as you knew of his presence the moment he stepped through the door. For a hunter he sure was awfully loud, but perhaps he was just so nervous he didn’t even know how loud he was being.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

The man froze right where he was at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening once he realized how easily you had caught him. He still couldn’t take his eyes off of your however even if you claimed it wasn’t respectful, watching as you turned around to face him with a warm and sweet smile as you always did.

“Hi Daryl.”

His heart jumped a little at you using his name the way you were, hearing your voice alone was enough to bring a small smile to his face as he looked at you, “Hey.”

He watched as you approached him further, standing in front of him now as you tilted your head a little in question, “What brings you down here?” you asked, your tone clear and knowing.

He felt like he had just been caught once more, knowing that you might’ve figured out that he had come down here just to see you, talk to you. He decided now he had to come up with some sort of lie to get him out of his tension, to make it seem like the situation was all in your head. “I just…uh…I was just comin down for some stuff m’ runnin low on back at the house.” he said almost confidently.

Your face then dropped a little at his answer, though you knew he was lying, you decided to play into it, “Oh…you mean you didn’t come all this way to see me?”

His eyes widened a little upon seeing the hurt look you had on your face, “N-No, I-...I mean…” he trailed off with a sigh, wondering how the hell he managed to already fuck this up when he had been down here with you for about thirty seconds. “I…I did.” he finally admitted.

A slow smirk was brought to your face at his sudden switch in honesty, “I know.” you teased, brushing past him lightly to look at the vegetables just behind him.

The man felt his cheeks heat up drastically, not only that you knew the real reason he came down here to begin with, but the way you barely brushed up against him as you passed. This whole thing was nearly torture at this point as he groaned a little to himself, turning to look at you again.

“God damn it woman…” he said as he moved up next to you, “Yer killing me, ya know that?”

He heard you hum a little to yourself as your eyes never moved away from the plethora of food in front of you as you scanned through them, “Am I?” you asked, your tone coming out almost innocent.

Daryl found himself swallowing thickly as he shook his head, “Yes…ya really are.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement as you finished putting a few things in some kind of woven basket around your arm, before turning to fully face him, “It’s still wrong you know…” you said obviously.

When he hears you state the lone and knowing fact, he can’t help but silently agree. He knew how wrong it was, even without you having to remind him he was well aware of the situation he was placed in. The age difference was big, you were still so much younger than he was and he knew that his lingering thoughts about you were very wrong. But if it was so wrong, then how come he still wanted you? So badly.

He then huffed a little at your statement, “Yeah…it’s still wrong. What if…what if we got caught or some shit? I know it’s all…too risky. And…we’d probably feel guilty if anyone found out about it, right?”

You nodded along to everything he was saying, “...Right.”

But even after saying all that, clarifying how bad this all was to even consider it, a part of him still didn’t care. He laid everything out before you, he had already admitted everything and all the two of you had talked about thus far was everything negative about the situation. That wasn’t what he wanted, and surely it couldn’t have been what you wanted either. Though he couldn’t read your mind, he couldn’t just ignore the slightly disappointed look on your face at the conclusion you assumed you both came to.

“...But…” he started, not knowing how to word exactly what he was feeling.

Your interest piqued however, wanting him to say it, “But?”

His eyes meet your with a mixture of softness and hunger, stepping forward a bit as his confidence took over him so suddenly, “But I don’t give a fuck about how wrong it is. If ya really wanna know how I see it…to me it feels like the only right thing in the whole damn world.”

You felt as if your heart stilled, actually wondering to yourself if any of this was even real. You had been practically dreaming of this moment for years, craving and wanting him so badly for what felt like decades. And now it was unfolding right before your very eyes. For some reason, this statement alone had you sold, not needing to hear another word to know how much he truly wanted this. Last night he almost looked filled with lust and would say just about anything for you to give in. But this right here was different. A determination of some kind that you hadn’t seen from him before.

You were silent for a long moment as you collected your thoughts, worrying the older man slightly as the two of you stood there facing each other awkwardly. That is until your face broke out into a smile, tilting your head a bit at him as you finally spoke.

“Are you free tonight?”

Daryl’s mouth parted a bit in shock as he blinked a few times in utter disbelief, questioning to himself if he even heard you right at all. But all he could do in that moment was nod his head, finding his mouth completely dry as he didn’t even want to attempt to speak.

“Good.” you smirked before gesturing down to what was in your hands, “I’m making dinner. I think it would be nice for you to join me so we could…discuss this some more.”

His head bobbed up and down frantically, his ears turning red at the thought of spending the evening with you, talking about what desperately needed to be considered.

You couldn’t help but smile again at the fact that he hadn’t uttered a word, “Perfect. Come over around seven, yeah?” you said before walking around him towards the exit, heading out the door and down the street to prepare everything, a little pep in your step as you walked.

The man however was rendered completely speechless, standing there frozen like a goddamn statue as if he couldn’t believe that actually happened. But he didn’t want to question it, linger on it for very long before he was suddenly smiling widely to himself, snapping out of whatever trance he was put in to get ready himself. Though he was growing so anxious he hardly couldn’t wait until seven at all, part of him just wanting to go back to your house to spend as much time with you as he could. But he didn’t want to push it. You called the shots. And he would be there at seven.

However the set time could not come soon enough. For the both of you. The remainder of the day just slowly passed by as the seconds dragged on and on for what felt like an entire lifetime. You at least had something to keep you busy, tidying up your house and cooking the dinner you promised as you waited for him to arrive. But he, however, had absolutely nothing to pass the time. He couldn’t go hunting, it was already growing too late for that. There were no patrols for him to get done as every shift was assigned to someone else for the day. 

So he was left sitting there with his racing thoughts. It was both a good and a bad thing he found. Good because he could plan what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do, think over how the night would play out just by the suggestive tone you used when you invited him to begin with. But bad because his mind was stuck wandering to the sinful images of you. How badly he wanted you now, how long it felt like he had been waiting. It was like an eternity, but he found that he would wait centuries for you if it meant you would give into him completely. Anything to just have you.

At seven on the dot, he was on your front step, giving the door a firm knock as he waited patiently for you to answer and let him in. You found yourself smiling as your eyes glanced up to the clock you had on the wall, seemingly impressed that he was here right on time. Though you could almost sense how anxious he was from the moment you left him in the pantry earlier, silently knowing he was just itching to get over here.

You then moved through your house to the front door, finally pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. But you swallowed a bit thickly taking in what he was wearing. The older boots and black jeans he had on were nothing really new as you had seen him wear those countless times before. It was the dark navy blue button up shirt he had on that caught your attention, the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows and a few of the top buttons already undone to expose just the beginning of his chest. You could practically feel your mouth watering already and it wasn’t even time for dessert yet.

He however was feeling the same exact way. His eyes trailed over your body, almost in awe as he saw the little black dress you were wearing before him. The straps that sat on your shoulders were a little ruffled and the length of the dress itself was perfect to him, seeing it come up to about your mid thigh. Your hair was perfect as it sat just above your chest, neat and put together as always yet there was something more about it that seemed to catch his eye. You were absolutely glowing, and he couldn’t help the wide smile he gave you the second you opened the door.

“Wow…right on time. I’m impressed.” you said almost proudly.

He chuckled a little as his head ducked down for a moment, “Yeah, well, I guess I was too excited to wait any longer.” he said honestly.

You smirked at him, “Eager aren’t you?” you couldn’t help but tease as you send him a small wink, before opening the door a bit wider and nodding for him to come inside, “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He sucked in a small breath after you winked toward him, already beginning to sweat a little as his nerves were getting to him. Though he quickly stepped inside as you wished, scanning around your house absentmindedly as if he had to somehow distract himself from how nervous he truly was. But just seeing you in that dress alone was enough to send a rush of heat right through him.

“Let me get you something to drink.” your voice spoke sweetly, heading back in towards the kitchen.

The man was quick to follow your lead as you walked, watching how your hips swayed effortlessly back and forth, nearly hypnotizing him. He couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose or not, but damn it was really working as he felt himself seemingly get hotter the more he stared. The smell that hit his nose when he entered the kitchen was also incredible however, his eyes moving over to the pot you had over the stove as it was just about done according to you.

You stopped in front of the fridge as you quickly pulled out a bottle of wine, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “Actually would you mind opening this for me? I just so happen to need a big strong guy to help me.” you flirted.

His eyes fluttered the smallest bit, finding himself nodding immediately as he would help with any little thing you needed from him, “Course…I got ya.” he said as he took it from your hands, finding a bottle opener to get the cork out with a small “pop” before offering to pour it into a few glasses for you as well.

After maneuvering around the kitchen for a moment as the silence shared between you was comfortable, you set the table up with two bowls of soup you had made on either end, while he seemed to wordlessly follow behind you to hand you one of the glasses he had poured. You thanked him quietly, brushing your fingertips against his hand purposefully as you took it from him, before moving over to take a seat. The man let out a small breath at even a sliver of your touch, but snapped out of it quickly as he saw you move to sit down, blinking rapidly as he did the same right across from you.

The silence had grown much thicker now, not being able to avoid what was quite literally sitting in front of either of you. It was so quiet you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop, the tension that now filled the remaining air was growing to be unbearable. The two of you were alone now, out of the public eye and in the privacy of your own home, even you had to admit it was hard to keep yourself together as he kept looking at you a certain way. But you wanted to talk, so you forced yourself to take a breath and just…wait. Though it honestly surprised you that he was the one to break the silence.

“So…discuss things…what exactly did ya mean by that?” he asked as he took a spoonful of soup into his mouth, his eyes never moving away from you as he did so.

You knew how eager he was too, it was written all over his face, and even with the way he slightly shifted in his seat you could tell. But in a certain sense, it brought you a bit of relief knowing that he was just as needy as you were.

You found yourself stirring the soup in front of you absentmindedly as you took your time with your response, “I wanted to talk about last night.”

He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he took a long drink of his wine, swallowing it thickly before responding, “Last night…what about it?”

A small and gentle laugh escaped you at even the mere thought of it, “...How desperate you were.” you stated a bit bluntly, completely changing the atmosphere around you.

Daryl’s face suddenly became a bit flushed with a little embarrassment after you stated the obvious so casually. He almost felt stupid now as his eyes now ducked down to look at the table, noticing your pretty floral tablecloth instead of acknowledging how he completely broke down right in front of you so easily the night prior.

But you wanted to see his eyes, not wanting him to be embarrassed by any of it, “Look at me.” you gently said to get his attention.

Hearing your voice say that command, yet it came out so sweet, he slowly glanced back up toward you. He almost began to feel ashamed, but seeing a glimpse of your face for a split second, told him he shouldn’t be.

“I liked it.”

His entire body seemed to shiver slightly just the mere way you admitted such a thing. He felt himself crumbling all over again, his desperation for you growing further the longer he sat there hearing and stewing over your words. You looked so devious yet so innocent when you spoke, it was almost too unreal to him.

“Really..?” he asked with a breath, almost wanting to hear you say it again as he felt his heart thump even faster than it had been before.

You nodded slowly in response, your eyes narrowing slightly the longer you looked at him, “But I have to know one thing.”

The man quite literally was sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited for you to continue, willing to give you whatever answer you wanted. “Did you mean everything you said?” you asked quietly.

It might’ve been a stupid question to ask, sure. But you needed to be absolutely certain about all of this, needing to know that this wasn’t just going to be the two of you fooling around. You wanted to make sure his feelings for you were real, that he actually cared about you. Because you knew the things you wanted to do next, there would be no going back from it.

He had to admit he was a little thrown off by your question, yet it was a completely valid one to have. And he didn’t have to worry about sounding convincing or needing to play something off. Because his answer was nothing but the truth.

“Yeah…I did.” he said with a firm nod.

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest hearing how sincere he was with such a simple answer, the only answer you ever wanted or needed to hear. It slid so effortlessly off his tongue that you believed him completely, feeling your breathing pick up just the smallest bit at the returning thoughts of something happening between the two of you.

But to your surprise again, he continued.

“And…before ya say somethin again bout how…it’s wrong for us ta do somethin like this…together.” he trailed off for a moment, almost trying to collect his thoughts, “It might be wrong…but…it just feels…so right.” he said with a heavy breath.

That was it. That right there, was all you needed to hear.

You suddenly got up from out of your seat, watching his eyes widen a little at your movements as he stayed frozen in place where he sat, seeing you come to stand right in front of him. Your body now hovered between the table and his chair as you stood right above him, seeing him gulp a little bit in anticipation. Your hands then came up to move softly across his shoulders, feeling the material of his shirt under your fingers. He let out a soft breath at your touch, looking up at you as if silently begging you to do more, his desire building and resurfacing.

“If we were to do this…it would be a secret…right?” you asked barely above a whisper, your tone sending goosebumps on his skin.

He opened his mouth to answer, before suddenly feeling your hands move up to either side of his neck, swallowing thickly at the new feeling. His mind raced for a moment before he tried desperately to stay focused, even though it felt at this point that you were trying to kill him.

“Right…” he sighed, feeling his breath feather across your face with how close you were to him now, “It would just be our little secret…”

“No one else has to know…yeah?” you asked again as your touch only became more addicting to him.

He nodded frantically again as he felt his skin getting warmer with each passing second, “No one…no one else has to know…just us…”

You smiled at his confirmation, seeing his body nearly quivering at just your hands lingering on the side of his neck, finally decided to not make him wait any longer for your answer. “Okay.” you nodded, moving your hands to caress the sides of his face.

The older man let out a quiet groan at the feeling of your soft hands moving against the light stubble on his cheeks, his jaw, his heart completely racing out of his chest with how close you had become. “God…don’t make this harder than it already is.” he let out a breathy laugh.

You smirked to yourself as you obviously watched him squirm, “But that’s what makes it fun.” you flirted as you tilted your head a bit to the side.

He sighed again deeply as you just seemed to continue to torment him to no end, though he liked it, he wanted more. “Such a tease…” he muttered under his breath.

“Maybe…” you whispered softly with a growing smile, your thumb moving over to trail over his bottom lip, practically dangling a carrot in front of his face. “What do you want?”

He was so clearly struggling to stay still in his seat, fidgeting around restlessly as you still found a way to drag this to a point of pure desperation. His chest heaved and his skin was now not only hot, but felt as if it were on fire. All he wanted was to pull you on top of him and finally end this constant teasing, but he refrained, knowing that all he had to do was be patient. Because even though you were good at hiding it, he could see right through you too, seeing how eager you looked before him.

His mouth parted as he licked his lips, “I want you…I want you so fucking bad…” he spoke quietly, trying to hold still.

Your smirk only grew the longer you looked at him, “What’s the magic word?” you teased again, absolutely loving this sight below you as you could hardly contain yourself.

Daryl felt himself getting even more turned on, aroused at how you continued to play with him even in the last lingering moments. He had completely fallen apart for you again, and he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

“P-Please.” he finally begged, “I need ya…please.”

With that single word alone, you finally caved, lowering yourself down to straddle him as you sat yourself on his lap, your faces even closer than before. He trembled beneath you in anticipation, feeling him getting hard in his jeans the longer you stalled, only proving he secretly adored what you did to him entirely. But it only grew to a point where you couldn’t wait any longer as you finally crashed your lips against his, a euphoric feeling washing over the both of you.

The older man groaned loudly into your mouth as you finally did what he so desperately needed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body even closer to his. Your hands went back to the sides of his neck as his lips began to urgently massage yours, his hands trailing down to grip your hips tightly as you practically rocked against him. You drank each other in, in every possible way as you felt his tongue slowly push past your parted lips, easily slipping inside to explore every inch of your mouth.

You hummed in approval as your hands trailed down to his chest, your delicate touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him, feeling as though it was all washing over him like some sort of tidal wave. His muscles twitched a little at the feeling, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he only pulled you in further as if you weren’t close enough, one of his hands moving to cradle the back of your head. You felt his other hand move down further to squeeze your ass gently, sending a surprised gasp from your lips that turned into a quiet sigh.

You both had waited too long for this, getting more antsy with each passing second as the two of you grew even more eager than before if that was even possible.

He pulled away from your reddened lips suddenly, his mouth trailing across your cheek to leave light and delicate pecks across your skin, traveling down towards the skin on the side of your neck. He sucked, licked, and nibbled lightly across the softness of your flesh hurriedly as he searched for that one specific spot, the one spot he knew would surely send you over the edge. Eventually his lips brushed over the skin just beneath your ear, hearing a small gasp from you as he smirked to himself. There it is. The man then paid extra attention to that one spot, sucking on it lightly until you let out a soft moan at his actions, gripping his shoulders tightly as you involuntarily rocked against his hips.

That action alone made him lose all self control as he grunted from the impact, lifting you up in his grasp as he suddenly stood to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his legs were shaking. You squealed lightly in surprise by his sudden movements, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you feared you might fall as your legs tightened around his waist. But he would never drop you. Never.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blown with lust as his mouth parted to speak, but you cut him off before he even got the chance. “Upstairs on your right.”

His eyes widened the smallest bit as you were able to tell him without him having to ask, chuckling to himself as he placed a few more light kisses on your neck before carrying you up the steps. The man moved at a rapid speed, causing you to hold on tighter as you laughed at his actions, hearing him kick open the door before you were suddenly laid down on the soft mattress. He continued to hover over you, taking in the closeness as much as he could as you gently brought him in to kiss him again, pecking his lips over and over as he chuckled at your affection.

“God, you’re so perfect.” he whispered against your lips, his hand slowly moving up to your breast, squeezing it lightly as his mouth hovered back down toward your neck.

You moaned a little at the feeling, your cheek pressed against his head as your breathing only picked up when he got just the smallest bit rougher. His movements were spurring you on even more as your hands moved towards the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one as quickly as you could.

He chuckled against your skin as he pulled back to look at you with a raised brow, “Eager?” he asked simply with a smirk.

You huffed, “Shut up.” your words came out in a breath, pushing him back a bit as your hands glided over his shoulders, removing the fabric from the upper part of his body. 

He let you do whatever you wanted to him as he sat up a bit on his knees, helping you a little as he fully discarded his shirt onto the ground. You couldn’t help but stare at him a little in awe, his toned chest and arms being fully exposed to you for the first time was something you would surely have to memorize. Your eyes trailed over every part of his skin, even reaching out a little to run your fingers across his chest, sending another shiver of pleasure down his spine as you did so.

Though he couldn’t help but laugh quietly as your eyes were glued to him, “Ya want me to get a camera for ya?” he asked teasingly as he tilted his head a bit.

You let out a breath, “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled again, leaning down to peck your lips a few times as his hands traveled down towards the hem of your dress, pulling back the smallest bit to look you in the eyes as if he was silently waiting for permission. That alone caused you to want him even more, nodding your head frantically as you raised your arms, feeling him pull the material up and over your head in one swift motion. You then laid there in nothing but a bra and underwear, his eyes trailing over every part of your skin as his pupils grew drastically.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath as his mouth dove back in towards your neck, earning you letting out a sound of surprise as you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you closed your eyes at the feeling he provided.

His tongue dragged down the side of your neck, traveling down to your collarbone as he nipped at the area lightly. The feeling of his mouth alone caused a small whimper to escape your lips, only imagining how everything else would feel as he took his time with you. A part of him wanted to savor every moment, cherish it as he had been waiting so long for this to unfold. But another part of him wanted to take you right here right now, practically growling at the thought of you squeezing around his dick. But he did know one thing. He wanted to take care of you first, taste you on his tongue, hear your screams and pleas.

He felt he couldn’t wait any longer as his mind ran, quickly moving his hands to the back of your bra, fumbling with it a bit as it caused you to laugh to yourself a bit as he struggled. He grunted and lowered his mouth to your shoulder to bite you teasingly at your amusement, finally getting it undone and pulling it off of you completely.

You felt the cold air hit your breasts, almost shivering at the feeling as you breathed deeply, but it didn’t last for long as you then felt his hot breath hovering over them. Before you even had a chance to process his next actions, he softly took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the flesh as his hand came up to massage the other.

You let out a breathy moan at the feeling, your head falling back against the pillow as his mouth worked wonders against you. You were so sensitive already, feeling yourself get wetter the longer his tongue was all over you. It almost felt like a dream to you, that all of this was happening so fast. But with the blissful feeling he gave you, you knew it was far from a dream.

His mouth then broke away from your breasts, his tongue trailing down your stomach almost frustratingly slow before he reached the top of your clothed pussy. You felt his lips delicately place a kiss against you, causing you to let out a soft gasp at the feeling, your eyes lightly fluttering.

He then looked up at you again, “You okay?” he asked softly, not wanting to mess anything up. The last thing he wanted was to be too rough with you or do something you weren’t ready for, wanting to make sure you were still okay. But what he wasn’t aware of was your racing thoughts, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you right now.

“Yes.” you sighed heavily, “Please…do whatever you want to me.” you breathed as you looked down at him, your expression heavy and desperate.

Seeing this made his worries beforehand suddenly vanish, a new hungry feeling washing over him as a smirk was brought to his face. He then didn’t hesitate to take the waistband of your thong and pull it down your legs, tossing it behind him carelessly as he slowly began to lower himself onto his stomach. The action alone excited you greatly, letting him softly move your thighs open and rest them on the tops of his shoulders, a heat already pooling in your stomach. He saw your wetness glistening even in the darkened room, finally leaning his head down to press a gentle kiss on your clit.

Your mouth fell open at just the littlest feeling, leaning your head back on the pillow as you sucked in a harsh breath. His gaze moved back up to your face as he saw your reaction, spurring him on more as he dipped his head back down to lick slowly down your slit, teasing you as he barely put any pressure at all which is what he knew you needed. A huff passed through your lips as you felt his tongue dart out to slowly continue to lick you up, teasing around your entrance as your hands gripped the bedsheets beside you in anticipation at how long he was taking. But what you weren’t aware of, was that he was doing it on purpose.

“More…” you practically whined as you squirmed a little, swallowing thickly.

His movements stopped completely as he pulled back a little to look up at you, “Ya want more?” he asked, his tone almost condescending, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention to that.

You could only nod your head frantically, needing him now more than ever as your writhed a little right in front of him, begging for his mouth to return to the place you needed him most. But then he spoke again, his words causing you to freeze.

“What’s the magic word?” he repeated, a large smirk crossing his face.

He couldn’t deny that it was just tempting to give you what you wanted right then and there, seeing you squirm was making him twitch in his pants. But everything leading up to this moment was you teasing him, playing with him in a way that was so utterly frustrating. And now seeing your guard fall down instantly as you let him take full control, he couldn’t resist to give you a little taste of your own medicine.

Your head shot up at his words, processing them slowly as your chest heaved up and down more frantically. “Please, please, I need you so bad.” you practically begged as you realized what he was doing.

He chuckled a little as he nodded, knowing he had you right where he wanted you, “Okay, okay…I’ll give ya what ya need angel.” he said sweetly, rubbing your thighs softly as they still rested on either side of his head.

Your mouth parted as you planned to say something else, but the feeling of his lips moving in to suck lightly on your clit, your words seemed to fail you. You instead let out a moan, falling back against the bed as his mouth sent shockwaves through you, nearly making you feel numb. His tongue then darted back out to swirl circles around your sensitive spot, groaning to himself at the sweet taste of you as he trailed down toward your entrance. He lapped up your wetness, gently fucking you with his tongue as you were a full on moaning mess, your hands moving back down to his hair to tug on his locks.

He groaned again to himself at the simple feeling of your fingers through his hair, his pace picking up the smallest bit as he heard the distinct sound of your moans growing a bit louder at the pleasure coursing through you. The tingling sensation you felt in your stomach only grew with each passing second, feeling him kiss and lick you over and over again, an exhilarated feeling washing over you.

Your thighs instinctively squeezed his head as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he grunted a little unexpectedly, but he didn’t mind one bit. The feeling of your warm plush thighs pressing firmly on either side of his head sent him into a wave of his own pleasure, loving the sensation. Even if there was a small chance he could suffocate beneath you, the man would easily die happy.

His mouth then traveled back up towards your clit, sucking sensually as he heard the constant sounds of approval from you. Even the feeling of you tugging more at his hair as you desperately somehow needed him closer, that was enough to cause him to pick up his movements. You then felt his finger slide down your slit painfully slow and towards your entrance, finally pushing through to enter you while his mouth was still glued to your clit. 

You let out a strangled moan, “Oh god…yes.” you sighed as your entire body felt like it was burning, in the most pleasurable way you could imagine.

He grunted at your words, the praises falling from your perfect lips only spurred him on more, delicately adding another finger to pump inside your entrance, stretching you out. You panted as your back began to arch off the mattress, feeling the familiar tingles running through your entire body as your orgasm built. Daryl felt you squeezing against his fingers, signaling him to pay more attention to your swollen clit as he silently knew you were close, your sounds growing louder as you then called out his name in such a blissful state. Feeling his fingers curl up inside and hitting that special spot is what sent you over the edge in seconds, moaning sensually as you felt that sting snap inside of you, the feeling so intense you could’ve sworn you saw stars for a moment.

Daryl drew your orgasm out as long as he could, licking everything up before he placed one final kiss onto your clit and slowly removed his fingers from you, smiling almost proudly to himself. Your chest moved up and down rapidly as you tried desperately to catch your breath, eventually opening your eyes to look down at him with a tilt of your head, seeing the smirk he had on his face. Your eyes then widened a bit as he made eye contact with you, before licking his fingers, humming to himself all the while. His actions alone only turned you on all over again, your eyes blown and wide as you watched him intently suck them completely clean.

“Ya taste so damn sweet.” he rasped, leaning in to hover above you to place a few delicate kisses on your cheek, “Ya okay?” 

You sighed in content as you smiled, “Better than okay.” you confirmed, “That was…” you trailed off, not even being able to find the right words to describe the feelings you had felt.

But he smirked as if he knew what you meant, leaning down again to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry…I ain’t done with ya yet.” he promised.

The words sent a shiver through you as you felt him move away from you momentarily, his hands reaching down to undo his belt in a quick motion before fumbling with the button of his jeans. You sat yourself up on your elbows, watching him almost in anticipation as he maneuvered himself off the bed for a moment, slowly tugging his jeans and boxers down to his ankles before kicking them off completely onto the floor. Your eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight in front of you.

You always knew he was perfect, but now seeing him like this it only made it more real. His dick was full and hard with veins running up the sides of it. You found you couldn’t pull your eyes away, hearing him chuckle to himself in response as he moved himself back onto the mattress, sitting on his knees in front of you again.

This caused you to actually look up at him as you let out a quick breath, “Now I really want that camera.” 

He laughed to himself again, a bit louder than last time as he shook his head at you, leaning down at bit, “Nah…if anything I need one…” he trailed off as he reached out to grip your waist gently, running his touch down to your hips at he stared at you, “So stunning…” he whispered to himself.

Your eyes softened as you looked up at him, reaching up to pull his neck down to connect your lips to his again in response, your mouth gently moving with his as you felt him lower himself even further into you with a sigh. His touch moved up and down your sides gently, leaving almost a ticklish feeling behind before he reached down further to grip his dick in one of his hands, gently moving it to run up and down your slit. You gasped lightly at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer as you silently begged for him to keep going. You felt his tip continue to tease you, circling up around your clit a few times as he wanted to hear those little sounds from you all over again. Wanting to play them on repeat if he could. He smirked to himself when he heard the faintest whimper fall from your lips and echo into his mouth.

But then his lips parted from yours as he hovered over you, a serious look to his eyes now as he spoke, “Just tell me if ya need me to stop…yeah?”

You nodded in response, the anticipation building as he saw your approval, moving down to your entrance as he slowly began to push his tip into you. Your mouth parted at the feeling, but it was anything but painful. It was a feeling of satisfaction after all the pent up feelings you had felt for him, you finally welcomed the feeling of him after years of believing it could never happen. But now it was. And you were positive it couldn’t have felt better as you felt yourself practically melt beneath him.

Inch by inch he slowly pushed into you as slowly as he could, not wanting to hurt or make you uncomfortable in any way as he swallowed a strangled groan in the process. Finally you felt you were stuffed full of him, the two of you just staying perfectly still as you both seemingly let out sighs of pleasure at the feeling of one another.

He lowered his head, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder and the side of your neck, before he slowly pulled out of you, only to push back in a little quicker than before. A louder moan left your lips as he slapped back into you, causing him to pull back before moving forward again as his hips met yours. A low growl left his lips as he found a perfect pace to keep at, his mouth returning to your neck to suck and lick lightly at your skin as more blissful moans left your lips with each motion you felt.

You then grew a bit self conscious at the sounds coming out of you, the sounds he was pulling from your throat at the feeling of him tickling the sweet spot deep inside of you. The sounds you were convinced only he would be the one to bring out. One of your hands then moved away from his back as you placed it over your mouth, muffling any sounds you let out.

But he noticed immediately, slowing down his pace as he picked up his head from the crook of your neck, gently tugging your arm away, “No, no, no…” he breathed with a shake of his head, “Don’t do that…I wanna hear those pretty little noises.” 

Your heartbeat quickened at that as you nodded frantically, willing to do anything for him to keep moving the way he was. He smiled at you and placed a quick, sloppy kiss on your lips before picking up his pace again, pounding into you at a more rapid speed as he couldn’t help himself. An exaggerated moan left your parted mouth as your hands returned to claw at his shoulders, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“That’s it.” he whispered as he heard the things he was doing to you, “So fuckin pretty.” 

The words he spoke combined with his movements sent you near the edge, feeling another orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. You almost couldn’t believe how much of an effect he had on you, how you were only able to last a few minutes under his touch before you writhed beneath him. But then again, he didn’t just know what he was doing, but he looked absolutely incredible while doing it. Sweat began to glisten on his forehead, causing his hair to stick slightly to the sides of his face as his hands moved down to squeeze your hips gently, pumping himself in and out of you. The sounds he began to let out were almost animalistic, but he couldn’t help it. You felt so good, better than he ever could’ve imagined.

Your hips moved rhythmically against his, feeling him hitting your clit at the perfect angle now which sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, “Oh…Daryl.” you cried softly.

The sound of approval and praise spurred him on further, snapping his hips against yours quickly as he could feel you tightening around him, “You gonna cum again? Hm?” he asked.

You cried out again when he kept hitting that same spot, “God, yes! Yes!” you said as you clung onto him more desperately.

His head moved up to leave a few rushed kisses on your cheek as he whispered near your ear, “Come on baby…come on.” 

With one final thrust you completely fell apart all over again, moaning loudly as you felt yourself shake a little as another orgasm washed right over you. Your moans turned into heavenly sighs as he continued to push back into you over and over again, though the feeling of you cumming on his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. In a few short seconds, he reluctantly pulled out of you, stroking himself a few times before he came all over your stomach, some even landing on your breasts.

The two of you were now only left with a feeling of euphoria, catching your breaths and coming down from your amazing highs. Your head rested back against the pillow as you came to your senses again, feeling him moving around for a moment before he was cleaning up your skin with a bandana he carried around in the pocket of his jeans. You let out a soft sigh at his gentle touch, seeing him then throw the piece of fabric somewhere else along the floor before slowly laying down beside you, pulling the blankets up to cover your bare bodies.

He then wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you back against his chest, feeling yourself smile at the feeling. “Was that even real?” he questioned out loud, his lips kissing your shoulder as he couldn’t help but want to taste every part of you.

You smiled again before slowly turning around to face him, “Hm…I don’t know. Maybe we should do it one more time just to make sure.” you winked, leaning up to place a few kisses across the base of his neck.

He chuckled at your response, his hand running up and down your bare back gently as he let out a deep sigh, “At least gimmie a few minutes first…ain’t gettin any younger ya know.”

You pulled back again to look at him fully, your eyes tracing all over his features as you took in this moment as much as you could. You didn’t exactly know where the two of you would go from here, what the future would hold for your specific situation, so you found you didn’t want to forget a thing. Your eyes took in the entirety of his face as he stared back at you softly, your hand coming up to the side of his face as your thumb ran across his cheekbone lightly. He was so beautiful, so perfect to you. You didn’t want to let him go.

“You’re wonderful.” you couldn’t help but whisper as you looked at him so warmly.

His eyes softened as he took your face gently in his hands, “And you pretty girl, are so, so addictive.” he practically whispered as he brought you into a deep kiss.

And his words were far from a lie. He couldn’t describe it better than he just did. You were like a drug to him almost, finding himself craving you more and more even though you were right next to him. He desperately needed you in his life just as you needed him in your own. And you found that just those few words he spoke to you, it gave you more reassurance for what was to come.

You laughed against his lips as you felt him move up to hover over you again, breaking away briefly to say, “I thought you needed a few minutes.”

He smiled at you as he placed a few gentle kisses across your face, “I guess ya keep me young.” he teased as he leaned down to bite at your neck playfully, causing you to let out a delighted squeal.

Perhaps the future wasn’t something to worry about. But something to cherish.

~ Thanks for reading!

Tags ~ @fluffy-dixon @ryoujoking @dreamtofus @indiasfanficcorner @darylssluttt @richardsamboramylove55 @yoowhatthefuck @pops450 @dixiezstoryz @petalsthorns @seongwin

[sickuma]

SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back. 

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?” 

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance. 

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent, 

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours. 

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him. 

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while. 

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe. 

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body, 

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you. 

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel. 

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back. 

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone." 

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him. 

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail. 

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug. 

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you. 

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

[sturniolo-rat]

Pathetic Part 1

Chris Sturniolo X Dom!Reader

A/N: you asked for it and I delivered. I am but a humble civil servant born to peddle smut to the masses.

Contains: p in v sex, female masturbation, overstimulation, toys, bondage, begging

TW: Shouldn’t be any

In which Chris is horny after coming back from tour and he ends up getting vibed like a needy slut.

Chris wants to be touched. He just returned from a tour, and Matt has dropped him off at Y/N’s house. They’ve never been apart that long, and he misses being touched. He’s been hugging fans for a month, but those are friendly touches. Chris needs the type of intimate touches only Y/N can provide.

He knocks on her front door, and she takes a while to open it. She wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow. She thought since he got back at midnight, he would unpack and get some rest. She’s in her hot girl jammies. The special pair of pajamas that every girl has for when they want to feel sexy while they sleep. Not sexy in a lingerie way but sexy in a casual “I didn’t put any thought into this; I'm just naturally this hot” kind of way. Y/N’s are a pair of very short pink pj pants covered in strawberries and a cut-up D.A.R.E t-shirt that falls sensually off her shoulders. 

At the sight of her, his eyes start to well up, and he envelops her in a hug, sneaking his hands under her shirt to touch the skin on her back. His emotional greeting takes aback Y/N. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” He says into her neck with great frustration.

“Oh, my baby, you don’t have to cry. I missed you, too,” she says in a nurturing tone, rubbing his back. Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Mhmm, okay,” he says in a small voice. She leads him by the hand into her house. He is mesmerized by the way her thighs rub together when she walks, the way her hips move, and her ass jiggles. She’s so fucking sexy. When they reach her living room. In that same small voice, he says, “No, not here.” Never letting go of her hand moves, he moves so close to Y/N that their chests touch. “Upstairs,” he whispers. 

“Why? I was just gonna-”

“Please, I need you.” He interrupts, his voice cracking.

 She puts her hands on his face and kisses him softly. “You want me to play with you, kitten?”

“Mhmm, please.”

“Okay, baby, come with me.” She walks him to her room, and he doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows he’s going to be taken care of. Come on, let’s get these clothes off you.” He raises his arms so she can lift his shirt and remove it. Then she helps him out of his sweats and boxers. When he’s all naked, she runs her hands up his sides and over his chest, giving him chills. She has to stand on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “You’re so pretty, Kitten.” 

“Thank you, miss.” his cheeks get all rosey, and he gives her a tiny smile. 

 “Welcome, baby. Lie on your back for me. Hands above your head and  head on the pillow so you’re comfy.”  Y/N watches as he gets into position. He’s not being bratty tonight. He must really be desperate, and that’s just how Y/N likes him. She opens the nightstand to retrieve a long red silk ribbon to tie Chris’s hands. The sight of her bringing out the ribbon makes his cock jump.

“Miss,” he whines because she’s taking so long to touch him where he needs it most.

“Hush, kitten.” She stands in front of the bed and slowly starts to take her shirt off, making sure her hands linger on her curves, and her hands stop to squeeze her breasts before pulling it over her head. She bends over to touch her toes before sliding her shorts down her legs. Chris is surprised she’s not wearing any panties. She doesn’t need to tease him like this; he's already so hard and ready for her. 

“I’m gonna touch you now.” She looks at her acrylic nails. They’re short, stiletto-shaped, freshly done, and extremely pointy. She walks to the side of the bed and gently glides her nails from his neck to his chest. It tickles, so he smiles a bit. She drags them over his nipples. They start to pebble, and she stops to flick and suck at them. Some men don’t have many nerve endings in their nipples, but Chris isn’t one of them. His nipples are sensitive, and he loves when Y/N plays with them. Once his nipples are as hard as they can be, she runs her nails down to his navel. The sensation gives Chris goosebumps. She figures tonight is an excellent time to try sensory play. He needs to be touched, and she’s teasing him by touching him in a way he doesn’t expect. When her nails reach his lower half, his hips start to buck in a silent plea for more contact. She pulls her hands away, and he moans out of frustration.

She grabs something else from the nightstand before she sits in front of him on the bed. Her legs are open, feet flat on the bed, with her pussy on full display. “Miss, please,” he begs.

“I’ll get to you soon.” Y/N runs a finger through her folds.“But I have to take care of myself first.” She says breathily and starts to rub slow circles over her clit. She lets out a soft moan. He tugs against his restraints. It’s so hard for Chris to watch Y/N touch herself. It’s unfair that she’s not touching him and even more unjust that he can’t touch himself watching her. “I wanna be able to give you all my attention when I pleasure you.” 

Once she gets her clit is all warmed up and engorged, she takes out the vibrator from behind her back. Chris remembers the very distinct moans that it elicits from her. She turns it to its first setting. Then runs the tip of her toy against her opening to get it nice and wet before she holds it onto her clit. The steady low vibration feels so fucking perfect. Her eyes shut, and she bites her lip to hold in her moans. She wants to cum quickly so she can focus on Chris, so she speeds up the vibrator. “Oh, fuck.” She rubs her toy up and down her clit. Chris can’t help but watch as her legs shake and her hips start to buck. She’s going to cum all over that toy, and he’s never wanted to be an inanimate object this bad in his whole life. 

“Fuck, I wanna see you cum, miss. Please, please cum.” He says, knowing it’s what she needs to hear to get her there. With his words on her mind, she throws her head back and lets out a roaring moan. Her pussy starts to clench, and she cums. 

When she comes down from her high, she hears the feeble cries Chris has been letting out. “Oh, kitten, did you want a turn?” She teases. Y/N moves on the bed to sit at Chris’s side and holds the vibrator up. “I know we haven’t tried this yet, but I thought you’d like it.” She turns it to its second setting. The one that transitions back and forth from slow to fast vibrations. Holding it only centimeters away from the tip of his rock-hard cock she asks, “Do you think you’ll like it?” 

He nods his head eagerly. “Yes, miss, I do. I really, really do.” She lowers the toy onto his cock, but it starts fast, and he winces because he isn’t ready for it. As it slows to a low rumble, his muscles relax, and he is able to bask in the pleasure. He’s never felt anything like this before. Y/N starts to rub the vibrator in circles over his head. He closes his eyes, gets lost in the feeling, and lets out a low string of moans. Just as he’s getting comfortable, the vibrations gradually speed up. “Yes, yes, yes.” His moans get louder, and waves of deep pleasure roll through him, but only for a moment because already it’s slowing down. Y/N makes up for the lost sensation by stroking the base of his cock. He goes through another cycle of high vibrations, but her hands are touching him this time. His abdominal muscles start to constrict, and his hips begin to buck up into her hand. “I’m gonna cum! Can I please cum?”

“Oh, you wanna cum, kitten?”

“Mhmm, yes!” He whines.

She removes the vibrator and stops moving her hand. “Well, I don’t want you to cum, just yet.” 

“Fuck!” He cries and kicks his feet in frustration.

She puts a finger to his mouth. “Shhh.. I don’t want to hear another complaint come out of your pretty little mouth.” 

“I just want you to touch me and make me cum please.” He begs, his breathing uneven and heavy. Before responding, she swings her leg over and straddles him. 

“I am going to make you cum. I promised I would take care of you.” She grabs his face with her hand and gives him a soft kiss. “And I always take care of you, right?”

“Mhmm.” He says, looking at her with those doe eyes. She sits on his lap with her pussy right up against his base. When she looks down, she sees the tip dripping precum onto his stomach. He is in complete and utter agony, waiting for her to line him up and sit on his cock. He rocks his hips to create some friction. He just slips himself between her pussy lips and gently jerks himself off using her folds. Y/N likes watching him get his dick all wet with her cum. She almost abandons her plan and just pushes him inside, but instead, she follows through and grinds her pussy onto him. He’s whimpering now. 

“Please sit on my cock, I’ll be so good.”He’s so close to getting what he wants, but she’s just not giving it to him. Y/N grinds her hole all the way up his cock until he’s convinced she is going to let him in, but she pulls back at the last second. He lets out a little yelp, and she leans down to give him a long, passionate kiss. She moves her hips faster, and she uses her hands to pinch his nipples. He throws his head back and lets out a moan from deep in his chest. “I’m so close!”

“Oh, how close are you, kitten?”

“Please, I’m so fucking close!” She sits up, and all of the contact he so loves is lost. “No, no, no, don’t move, please!”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I’m so mean. I just wanna make sure when you cum you truly appreciate it.”

His eyes are closed, and he feels defeated and hopeless. Y/N takes this moment to sink down onto his cock. His eyes shoot open, and he lets out a gasp. “Yes! Thank you, miss,” she places her feet flat on the bed and uses her knees to bounce up and down on his cock. Fuck he fills her up so nice. She leans back, using his legs to keep herself up and bouncing. He doesn’t moan anymore; he whines and yelps and mewls at her every movement. He’s so fucking pathetic he has a year running down his cheek. 

Y/N can’t move any faster on to him, so she says, “Buck up into me, kitten, make yourself feel good.” He does. And he does it really fucking fast. He’s jackhammering into her, and she frees one of her hands to rub her clit. Her pussy is tightening around his cock, and she’s moaning like crazy, even louder than with the vibrator. He’s so afraid to tell her how close he’s coming to an orgasm, but he knows that it’s what good kittens are supposed to do. 

“I wanna cum with you!” 

“Mhmm,” she nods.

“Please, miss, can I cum with you!” He doesn’t realize she already said yes. He’s losing his faculties to his impending orgasm. 

“Yes, baby, you can cum! You can with cum me, and in me, and afterward, we can do whatever the fuck you want because you’ve been such a good fucking kitten for me!”

He doesn’t say anything as he climaxes; he just lets yel, which causes his voice to break. The sound of it pushes Y/N over the edge, and she sits back down on her knees, still keeping Chris inside her. She continues riding him softly, clenching and unclenching herself around him, gently milking his cock. When Chris finally returns to planet Earth, he’s okay with the small movements. Pretty soon, though, it starts to hurt. “Oh shit. That hurts a bit.”

“Hmm? You don’t like it anymore? You were just begging for it a minute ago.” She is highly amused with herself.

“That was different, and you know it.” He cringes.

“But still no safe word from you, huh? Who’s to say I’m not just giving you the thorough fucking you deserve?” She continues riding him as she unties his hands from each other. He’s much stronger than Y/N, so he uses his hands to hold her hips and stop her movements. 

“Thank you, miss, for the thorough fucking, but I think the fun is over.” He says in his “real man that is 2x stronger than you” voice and playfully moves her off him. 

“I was so freaking awesome tonight.” Y/N is so proud of her dom performance. “I pulled out at all the stops.” She counts on her fingers

“We had bondage, toys, edging, and overstim!” 

“Yes, you did great, baby. You took advantage of my very pathetic state, and it was amazing.”

“And I didn’t have to plan it! I crafted it on the spot like a fucking evil mastermind!” 

“Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself. I bet you I could do better on short notice.”

“Fuck you! No way!” She smacks his chest.

“Well, the next time you come to me in a pathetic touch-starved state, we’ll see who doms better.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Masterlist

Taglist

@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blogblog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @cind2224 @tuffsturns @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339

[xxoxobree]

See You Again

Miles G. Morales x Black Fem Reader

WARNINGS: Angst , Sadness, Happy Ending.

A/n: Surprise Shawtayyy‼️ wrote this in like 20 mins 🫶🏽 I love it 🤣

A year has flown by since Miles' father and you, his girlfriend, passed away. Yet, the agony that gnawed at his soul showed no signs of leaving. His grief had descended into a deep depression, which soon morphed into a seething anger. His heartache only intensified as he struggled to make sense of why he had to suffer so much. Why were two of most important people in his life ripped away from him?

Sleep was now a distant memory, and he dreaded the thought of closing his eyes. Every time he did, he was transported back to a time when he was happy, a time when he shared precious moments with you, that only added to his already unbearable pain.

Miles found himself under the spell of his uncle, who had taken him under his wing, using his intelligence for nefarious purposes that he knew would have disappointed you. He was desperate to shake off the haunting memories that plagued him so he took up the mantle becoming The Prowler.

Tonight was like any other night. He slid open his window, using his metallic claws to pry it open, then climbed in, undressing before heading to bed. But as he headed towards his bed, something caught his eye - a glint of light that shone in the darkness. Curious, he approached the object and picked it up, examining it closely.

It was a necklace, one that belonged to you. The very one he had given you, the one that you had lost the day before you were taken from him. The necklace that he had promised you he would help you find the next day. Miles clutched it tight in his hand, feeling the weight of his grief pressing down on him. He slowly made his way to his bed, where he fell asleep, still holding onto the precious necklace.

As he drifted off, his breathing gradually steadied. He soon found himself in a dream, where you appeared before him once again, with your beautiful smile that quickly turned to a frown, your eyes filling with tears. He could hear your weak voice ringing in his ears.

"Miles....Miles, help...I don't want to......... " your voice trailed off the sentence unfinished forever. Miles jolted awake in his bed. His heart raced from the intensity of the nightmare that had just gripped him. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before reaching for his cellphone to check the time. It was already 8 am, and he had to get ready for school.

The rest of Miles' day went by relatively normally, until he was heading back home. His head was down, texting his mother about her picking up another shift when he heard it - his name being called. He looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

He heard it again – that voice he would recognize anywhere, the voice he longed to hear once more. And there you were, standing on the front steps of his apartment building, waving at him before running over. Miles stood frozen in shock, unable to grasp how you were there.

"Y/n," Miles said, his eyes beginning to well up with tears.

"Hey, Miles! What did you do to your hair? Did your mom do it? I kinda like it," you said, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that Miles was experiencing in that moment.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you, your hair styled just the way he liked, with your signature pink hair in two puffs. Your lips glistened from your lipgloss, and Miles couldn't help but stare in awe.

Without hesitation, Miles quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, knowing that if he didn't seize this moment, it would pass him by forever. He hugged you tightly, squeezing the life out of you.

"Whoa, Miles, you're gonna crush me!" you said, giggling. It was a sound that Miles had missed so much, and it filled him with a sense of warmth a feeling he never thought he'd feel again.

You tapped him gently, and Miles reluctantly let go of the embrace, still holding onto your shoulders.

"Someone missed me," you said, smiling as your eyes zeroed in on his neck. He was wearing a chain, one that looked exactly like yours, but you had yours on your neck. You gripped your chain, feeling a sense of confusion.

"I didn't know you got a matching one," you said, pointing at the chain.

"Oh, yeah," Miles chuckled. "I thought it was cute."

"That's so cute, Miles," you said, before reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. Miles' heart skipped a beat, and he swore his head was spinning. You were here, in front of him.

He looked down at your entwined hands, still in disbelief that you were really here. "Miles, are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as your eyebrows knit together.

Miles took a deep breath before he spoke. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," he said, trying to compose himself.

"Okay, well let's go. You promised me you'd carry me to the rooftop, remember? To see your new artwork." You reminded him, eager to see the artwork he had been working on.

You were right. He had promised to show you, but now, that artwork was different. It was a painful reminder that you had died, a reminder that you shouldn't be here with him right now. But he couldn't bring himself to tell you that. Not yet.

You snapped your fingers in front of Miles' face, trying to get his attention. "Miles, hello! You're acting strange today. What is it, my love?" you asked, your eyes searching his for answers.

"It's nothing, mi amor. Come on," Miles replied, his voice unconvincing as he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs. He dreaded taking you up there, too scared that you would leave him again. His heart raced with each step, and he couldn't shake off the sense of unease.

As you two arrived at the rooftop, Miles looked back one more time at you. Your face was radiating with happiness, just happy to be with him. The sight made his heart thump harder, if it was even possible.

He pushed open the door, the cool breeze hit his face. "Here it is," he said lowly, motioning his head to the mural of you and his late father.

Your smile instantly dropped, confused by the whole thing. "R.I.P? But I'm right here," you said, looking at Miles in disbelief.

"Miles, your dad," you whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears. Miles just continued to look down, staring at his Nikes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out as you stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"You died, Y/n. Right in front of me, in my arms," Miles said quietly, watching a single tear splat on his shoes. He looked up at you, seeing tears fall down your cheeks. How he hated to see you cry.

He walked over to you, wiping away your tears, a small smile on his face. "You're too beautiful to cry," he whispered, grabbing your hands. "And I don't know if you're a figment of my imagination, if I'm dreaming again, or if I'll ever see you again."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and sadness. "So please," he said, closing the gap between your bodies, his hand on your waist. "Can I get a kiss?"

You nodded, and he tilted your chin upward, placing the most gentle, loving kiss on your lips. It was a kiss you wished could've lasted forever,

[akirathedramaqueen]

Only one person has the power to make Stolas cry

And I'll keep the intrigue just a little bit longer so you can try to guess for yourself and experience the kind of satisfaction I had once I pieced it all together. And, oh boy, did it click!

Okay, so today, after a rather passionate conversation with @tealvenetianmask about how fandom seems to perceive Stolas as overly emotional and soft demon, we started rummaging through all the scenes where Stolas actually cried. We were blown off by some revelations.

First note: it's actually not much. Our owl appears to be very sturdy and often bites back when attacked, rather than shutting down as one might expect.

Second note... Better let me show you. Let's walk through all the 'Stolas cries' scenes and see what is happening there, and answer the question, "What, or rather who, sets him off the rails?"

This is your last chance to place your bets and educated guesses. Because below are big clues, and, eventually, answer.

Circus

We follow up on Stolas shortly after the disastrous date at Ozzie's - arguably, a couple of hours later. He looks absolutely miserable. He has boozed himself to unconsciousness. His eyeliner is ruined from earlier tears. He groans, either from headache or emotional turmoil, grabs three Happy pills, and shoves them down his throat.

Whatever happened at this club ruined our bird, to the point he's looking for anything to avoid being alone with his thoughts.

Western Energy

One shed tear. That's all Stolas allows himself. That's what I am talking about when I claim he is actually very tough. He is being tortured, mutilated, and by this point, he has a pretty good understanding that his demise is likely inevitable.

And you know what he does in response? He talks back. He cuts through Striker's bullshit about royals taking everything from him and points out that his killer took a contract from a royal. He literally humiliates Striker with sex jokes and mocks his oversized dick on the statue ego. Figuratively, he spits death in its face.

The Full Moon

Stolas is destroyed.

This meeting was nerve-wracking even before it happened - all the preparation, insecurities, misunderstandings of the past, and lingering, terrifying questions (He loves me? He loves me not?).

It takes weeks to set everything in motion. He planned it meticulously. He scripted every word, every movement of his body, every subtle tone in his voice.

But he forgot that there was another party in this play. The party who was not given the script and is burdened with his own trauma. One shitty assumption, one poorly-thought-out action, and here it is - mockery, avoidance, a fight... and tears. His first meltdown he wasn't able to conceal.

His worst nighmares came true, or so he convinced himself. He loves me not.

Apology Tour

Our last stop on our 'we-love-being-tortured-by-crying-Stolas' tour is here.

The wound is still fresh, bleeding even, and here he comes, rubbing salt into it. Someone Stolas still desperately wants. Someone who was infinitely brash, rude, and aggressive just this morning. Someone who doubled down on statements that made Stolas believe this particular someone hates him.

That someone tries to talk. To explain. To apologize. Wonders how Stolas could actually care about him. Says the prince is better off without him.

Fuck... The prince came here to forget, to wipe that someone (okay, it's getting increasingly hard to pretend it's not obvious yet) from his memory, at least for the night, and he still won't let Stolas go.

He breaks into tears, crushed, reassured he can't have anyone who would hold him, who would say he is the only one, but recuperates shortly after - he was taught better than this.

Okay, are we ready for the shocker of the year?

It's Blitzø.

It was his date with Blitzø at Ozzie's, where he was ignored, humiliated, and was told that their relatioship was only about sex, and that he was the one who made it clear.

It was Blitzø turning down (or so he thought) his distress call, leading him to believe he was left alone to die.

It was Blitzø mocking his confession and assuming it was just a fucking roleplay.

Finally, it was Blitzø haunting him since that very morning and, albeit with better intentions, still hurting him beyond his abilities to recover.

The only person who tore his soul apart enough to break his inpenetrable mask - built up by decades of gritted teeth, restraint, and bravery - was the one he probably cares about the most.

It was not Octavia, whom he holds close to his heart but couldn’t allow to see him depressed. He had to be strong for her; he needed to raise and support her.

It was not Stella, whom he endured for years, yet did not satisfy her wish to see him whimper. He talked back, argued, ignored, and seethed. But he never gave in.

It was him. An imp who stole his grimoire and gave him the best time of his life, however sad that may sound.

Now, thanks for joining this drama in four acts. You may pull out your handkerchiefs and ugly cry right here, in your places. Don't hold it in.

Because I don't.

[nxiispire]

Helloo

This is my first time doing requests and uhh

I was wondering if i can request a dom reader and sub tighnari in heat?? Like he just cant handle it anymore hhhhh he just needed to do something about it and the only person he can think of doing it with him is the reader-

i dont know how to do requests

|･ω･`)ﾉ a/n : here is the long over due tighnari fic, i am officially back from my hiatus but uploads may still be slow as i get back into the swing of thing :)

✰ Hot Faced .. !

[ Featuring ] -> Tighnari x reader

cw : gn!reader, handj0bs, riding, d0m!reader, sub!tighnari

The air around you started to cool down as the sun made its way over the horizon, glowing orange as it slowly disappeared. The forest didn’t get as cold at night as it did in the desert so you wouldn’t have to rush back to the village to avoid the night, but something else was causing you to pick up your pace, eager to get back.

Today you were surveying the forest with Tighnari, but about halfway through the day he had to excuse himself back to his house, saying he wasn’t feeling well and needed a rest. Quite honestly, you were worried about him as he barely ever misses out on duties and is very stubborn, even when sick. So, as soon as you finished your work, you made a beeline straight back to the village.

Finally, making it back to the village, you headed straight for Tighnari’s house and knocked on the door. At first, you hear nothing, but after a second knock, you hear a muffled groan through the door. Panicked, thinking he was in serious pain, you barged into his hut without waiting for a response. And the sight you saw only made your worries worse. He was curled up on his bed on top of a pile of blankets, only in his underwear, as his whole body was in a sweat. His ears perked up as he heard you enter the room. He looked at you, eyes wide.

"Tighnari, are you ok? You look horrible, well, not like that-"

Stepping closer, you paused mid-sentence, now having a better view of Tighnari’s state. Along with the sweat was a deep blush covering his face and hands, but the thing that made you stop in your tracks was his underwear. A visible bulge was evident beneath his wet, stained pants. Now you understand why he had looked so mortified when you entered the room, but now looking up at his face, his horrified look has relaxed into one of utter lust.

"Sorry… need help, please?" the way he stretched his “please” made it sound more like a whine, the sound causing your stomach to do flips.

" I-um I can get you someone to help? Someone more experienced," you rambled on, not really sure if he was suggesting you be the one to help him in that way. A part of you desperately wanted to be the one to help him, but on the other hand, you had minimal experience in this field, let alone experience with hybrids. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him grip your hand.

"Fennec foxes mate for life." You weren't sure what he wanted you to do with this information, but you waited patiently for him to elaborate.

“That's why,” he paused. “It needs to be you.” You swear your heart nearly shot out of your chest at his explanation, and god he looked so cute just looking up at you with those blown out eyes.

All you could do at that point was mutter “fuck” before positioning your knee between his legs and capturing his lips into a desperate kiss. The kiss was sloppy, but nothing less than passionate, releasing so many pent-up emotions. Knowing how much pain he was already in, you waste no time in ridding him of his boxers, wrapping your warm hand around his wet length. He moaned into your kiss as he immediately started to buck into your hand, doing the same thing he was doing to his pillow only moments earlier.

You guided him to lie down as you sat on his thighs, slightly hovering over him as you continued to make out. As much as you wanted to never leave, you parted from his lips, moving your head to between his neck and shoulder, licking and sucking on the sensitive flesh. You hadn’t even noticed he came until you leant up to check on him after his whines sounded somewhat pained. Of course, any worries of him being in pain left as you take in the view of his cum solid stomach, his cock still painfully hard.

“Please, just wanna be inside you, need it.” Even if you wanted to be mean and deny him the pleasure of fucking you, you couldn't deny the need to feel him either. Taking off your pants, you sink down onto his length, humming at the pleasurable feeling of being full. On the other hand, Tighnari was barely keeping it together, head thrown back, nails gripping your hips as he let out the most erotic sounds.

Wanting to hear more of him, you wasted no time moving yourself up and down on him, hands balancing on his chest as you play with his sensitive nipples.

“Ahh! O.. Oh!... Aghh! Uughh!” He let out, drool beginning to slide down the side of his mouth. Even with the quick tempo you kept, he still thrust his hips up, as if it were insufficient. Not that you were complaining. You could feel yourself get lightheaded as he hit all the right spots inside of you.

“Haah.. Ooh god, I'm gonna cum! Pleaseplease let me cum inside! Ughhh Pleeeaase.” Of course, you couldn't deny him, especially as you were on the cusp as well. As you groaned out permission, it only took a few seconds before he was spilling himself deep inside you, your orgasm following quickly behind.

Coming to your senses, you looked down at your lover, laying there covered in sweat. You can't help but smile and he lays there, eyes closed, with a dopey smile on his face.

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC A/N, Warnings: 18+, Talk of artificial insemination, peeing in a cup, sperm, and more. LOL I wrote this in an hour, IDK where I pulled this from. Not beta-ed. Also, I'm pretty sure this doesn't make so much sense in terms of plot, and being realistic. But come on, let this delulu queen live her life. You're welcome to join. Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“Hank, pleaaaase…” You pleaded, dragging the last word. Henry laughed at your frustration but still could not wrap his head around what you’re asking of him.

“You’re going insane.” He jokes, causing you to drop your back on the carpet with a soft thud, covering your face with your palms as you landed.

“It’s just like peeing in a cup.” Your reply came out muffled. Henry just snorted and tried his best to stifle a laugh.

Nearly 18 years of friendship and here you are, seemingly at the end of your rope, asking your best friend to father the child you so ache for and he laughs at your ridiculous solution, telling you he’s not going to be responsible for a “turkey baster baby”.

“I don’t like peeing in a cup. Besides, why go the turkey baster way when you can go… au naturelle?”

“You know exactly why…” You said, sitting up, and gathering the profiles of sperm donors from the (sperm) bank. You and Henry had been going through each profile over the past few hours, laughing and making faces at the notes.

“And I thought Tinder was bad.” He commented earlier.

Henry got up and took the bottles of beer on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen to open new ones.

“Tell me why won’t you do it?” You asked him, eyes round and glazed with tears that are threatening to fall any second.

He hates seeing you like this.

He sighed and admitted, “If I were to have any children of my own, I’d rather have them borne out of love and not out of… desperation after a really bad break up.”

“But I’m not asking you to be… a father. Just a donor.” You countered.

"Darling, please. Reaaally think about what you're asking of me."

"I have! I wouldn't be asking you if I haven't. Come on, Hank..."

"Right, not more than an hour after dropping sperm bank Tinder and you've thought this through." He said sarcastically and you pouted.

"Well, think about it, too!" You asked of him. "It's the ideal situation."

"How? Tell me exactly why it's so ideal." He said, running a hand through his face and resting his chin on his palm as he waited for your brilliant idea.

"Well, first of all, we love each other. So the child won't be borne not out of love." You began, mocking his accent and his statement from earlier. He snickered and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus," He muttered.

"Plus, I won't ask you for anything, Hank. No child support, no emotional support. You don't have to see them. You're not even going to be on the birth certificate."

Henry winced at each of your points. "Darling, you know so well that I'm always your emotional support. And d'you really think I can go around just being Uncle Hank?” He replied with an eye roll as he took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, how hard could that be?" You exclaimed.

"Very." He said sternly, looking you straight in the eye.

"Y/N." He began. "You know so well I won't be able to sit here with you holding a child knowing it's mine and not be involved in all ways."

“God, you’re too emotional.” You rolled your eyes at his response as you drank from your beer bottle.

“I am! And I’m sorry, darling. I can’t just give away my children. They’re not the meals you make for me every week.”

You laughed at that. "So you admit it, you don't like the meals I prep for you?"

"That's beside the point."

You'll get back to that later. You sighed out loud as you both drank.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you desperately want this?”

That ought to get you thinking hard.

You sighed and asked yourself the same thing, reflecting on what started this vision of yourself with a child, and what turned it to longing and aching, then desperation.

Growing up without present parents, you basically become an extended Cavill sibling. The sister they never had, or as the youngest Cavill, Charlie, would like to joke, the no-choice sister. That family took you in like their own kin, having you over for dinner almost every evening, and spending weekends and vacations with them.

It's not that you're not well off, financially. Your parents were just really successful actors who don't pay you much any attention but showers you with plenty of lavish gifts and an American Express Black card. Which, Henry's mother found really heartbreaking and his father pitied you on.

You were 15 when you met Henry. He was already a budding actor with a couple of productions and a movie or two in his portfolio. You were a bright and young singer-songwriter from Italy, about to break it into the English-language audience with a catchy single that Henry happened to star in the music video of.

It was easy falling into a friendship with Henry. He was kind, funny, a little nerdy, but he's also such a gentleman, and treats you and talks to you like an equal despite the five-year age gap.

It didn't take long before you met his family when he invited to his birthday party. You didn't know exactly how the events played out that day, but somehow, at the end of it all, you walked out of their home being a part of it.

You got along so well with his brothers, you and his mother already sharing secrets. You figured she was excited to have a girl in the house as none of her children would bring their girlfriends for them to meet. His father was so easy to please, a couple of jokes here and a few football arguments there, and you won his heart. Not like you were even trying, but you were glad that you got along with all of them.

Henry drove you home that night and when he parked in your empty driveway, he jumped out to open the door for you. You cried in the passenger seat with the door open and he stood there, leaning on the doorframe as you confessed to him your jealousy and longing for that kind of family.

He pulled you in and wrapped you in a tight hug beneath the street lamp.

"Hank, you know so well there is nothing I want more in life at this moment than to have a family."

"I don't get it, Y/N." He said quietly, "You're definitely the smartest person I know. You're a literal genius..." He thought of your first few conversations on the set of your first English-language music video, and learning that not only you spoke several languages fluently, but you are also about to start university at such an early age. It impressed him so much.

"You've accomplished so much in your career, you're still young, there are so many things you can do with your life, why do you go back to this?" He asked and you just shrugged.

"I feel incomplete. What can I say? A dream is a dream."

"Gerry was a dream, too." He said and you looked at him surprised at bringing up your ex fiancé.

He was indeed a dream. You met Gerry at an evening talk show as a fellow guest. He didn't hide the fact that he was so enamored by you and that he's such a big fan of your music. You, being a fan of him, too, was just so happy to hear him say all that in person.

It was an instant connection, and it didn't take long for you and Gerry to start a long, and at the time, seemingly, lasting and perfect relationship.

"Sorry." He muttered. "But it makes me wonder, you never talked about it, just casually said that things didn't work out. Knowing you, things don't just not work out like that."

And he's right, you know he's right.

Gerry loves you a lot. You love him, too. But for all the years you've been together with the high-profile action star, the talk of kids almost never came up, at least the serious talk about kids. Until you brought it up soon after he proposed, and he confessed that he had a vasectomy shortly before you met.

You were not mad. You understood, vasectomies are reversible. But Gerry didn't want to have it reversed, ever. He admitted that the reason he got it in the first place was to not accidentally have kids as he fully intended to be childless.

You understood that, too. But it broke your heart.

Regardless, you had a clean break up, but never felt the need to tell people, even your friends or family as to why. Just that things didn't work out.

"Gerry didn't want to start a family." You told Henry.

"What?" He asked, surprised. His brows furrowed and his mouth hung slightly open at your revelation. You just nodded.

"I don't understand, you were to be married." You just nodded again, and took a sip of your beer. You told him the truth about Gerry, and Henry felt his heart breaking for you.

Henry reached for your hand from across the coffee table, enveloping your tiny hands in his big ones.

"And that's a deal breaker for you." He said softly, coming to the realization.

"Yeah." You replied. "So... there you go."

"But you know what comes after the last one, right?"

"What?"

"The next one." He joked, trying to make the air in the room lighter. He smiled at his success when you snickered.

"I'm tired, Hank. Tired of getting to know new people. I've been with Gerry for four years, and before that... well you know." It was Henry's turn to snicker.

He knows so well. All the heartbreaks, disappointments, even the rebounds, met most of them. He was always there at your highest of highs, and always down with you when things didn't work out.

"I get that." He finally answered, thinking about his own strings of ex girlfriends, and an ex-fiancé. At one point, you both feel very proud of the situation you found yourselves in, both engaged to beautiful people at the same time.

You even toasted to it last New Year's eve, not knowing that both promises of a lifetime of love would fall apart in a matter of months. He, too, wanted what you wanted. A family of his own, being the only one amongst his brothers to be single and childless.

He thought he might have had that with his ex fiance. Telling him she was pregnant when she caught a whiff of him about to break things off. He was caught off guard when she told him and he didn't even waste a moment to put a ring on her finger, falling for her lies.

Maybe it was not so bad, making your dream come true. You can always discuss co-parenting, he thought and he's sure you'd allow it.

He pondered on it some more.

Henry rested his head on the cool glass top of the coffee table, his hand never left yours. He let out a breath, fogging the glass beneath him as he gently squeezed your hand.

He shut his eyes tight, and muttered to himself, "Please don't make me regret this."

"What?" You asked, not quite hearing what he said.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll do it. I'll--be your turkey baster baby's donor."

With that you burst out crying and he stood up, took your hand and guided you to his arms. He wrapped you up in that big, warm hug, that you always find comfort in.

"Set an appointment in the morning, darling." He whispered and you cried some more and muttered a yes, thank you.

18 years of friendship with Henry Cavill, and this is where you find yourself: at a crossroads that neither of you could have predicted.

The weight of his decision settled between you like a tangible presence, and as you hugged each other tightly, you knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, an uncharted territory.

Read next part: Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[wileys-russo]

can we get a morning blurb for alexia, leah and alessia in the style of the last two?

because i have some thoughts 💭

alexia gets up at like 5:30 am no problem and is productive as fuck while reader tries to get her to come back to bed and snuggle

leah gets up early but needs coffee and a moment of peace before she can actually start the day and is literally completely silent like you won’t get much more than “mhm” out of her, so reader and her usually just snuggle up a bit while they both wake up properly

alessia literally said herself that she needs several alarms and has a really hard time getting out of bed so reader usually has to drag her out and she is really grumpy and needy af for cuddles to compensate the fact that she had to get up

early mornings II a.putellas, l.williamson, a.russo

alexia

there was very little you couldn't and didn't love about your girlfriend. you adored how passionate she was and how that bled through into nearly every aspect of her life both on and off the pitch.

you loved how you saw a different side to her when it was just the two of you and her walls would come down. where with time she wasn't afraid to be vulnerable and emotional and raw, wrapped up in your arms after her knee would tweak or she'd look a little too deep into what the media was saying about her, just seeking solace within you as her safe person.

you were infatuated with how much she cared for her loved ones, family driven and fiercely protective of her inner circle. there wasn't much she wouldn't do for them and you found that utterly captivating.

however there was one thing about alexia that drove you up the wall and to the brink of frustration, and that was that she was somehow both a night owl and an early riser.

wound up after games she'd often forgo sleeping at all, opting instead to stay up and watch countless hours of footage, going over every little kick and tackle and sidestep with a fine tooth comb, desperate to find ways she could improve next time.

she could win ten nil and score a double hat trick and still seek out where her flaws lay, forever intending to better herself and her football every single day that passed.

you thought she might try to take better care of herself after her acl, but she'd ignored the warnings about her non existent sleep schedule her entire career and that wasn't about to change.

there were the rare nights she would go to bed with you and you'd finally fall asleep with her warm body beside you, limbs tangled together in crisp linen as soft words of endearment and tender confessions of love drowned your subconscious.

but the morning after you would always awake to cold sheets, stretching out desperately to find her, wanting nothing more than to curl into her strong arms and gently kiss her tanned skin as the two of you dozed in and out for a few hours, just wrapped up together in your little bubble of love.

but no, your girlfriends body clock insist she be up around five thirty each morning, off to the gym in your building complex for a workout with alexia always using the excuse it was empty that time of day and allowed her some much sought after privacy.

so each morning you'd wake up in an entirely different situation than the one you'd fallen asleep in and your mood would sour. you'd trudge out to the living room and most of the time her gym bag would be gone and you'd retreat back to bed.

but occasionally you'd find her curled up on the sofa with nala and a book in hand, cold cup of coffee beside her untouched despite her insistence she still make it.

this morning was not much different only alexia felt you stir beside her as she carefully slipped out of bed, never needing an alarm to be up and alert at the same time each morning, her body routine like clockwork.

"please stay." you'd pleaded, voice thick with sleep and barely loud enough for her to hear, reaching out to grab alexia's wrist as she'd tried to tuck you back in. "i have to workout amor." she'd whispered, face barely recognizable in the dim light of your bedroom, blinds still drawn and sun only just starting to peek over the horizon.

"no you don't. you're choosing to leave me, selfish woman." you mumbled, cracking one eye open to fix her with a grumpy glare as her soft lips curled into an amused smile.

"go back to sleep bebita. i'll have breakfast done when you wake again and you will not even know i am not here." her lips grazed your temple lovingly as slender fingers carded through your hair pushing it out of your face, and before you could even say another word she was gone.

true to her word you heard the bedroom door open a few hours later and the smell of her cooking gently waft through and invade your senses, but still annoyed you'd once again been depraved of a sleep in with her your eyes remained shut.

you heard alexia's footsteps pad softly around the bed and the click of her raising the blinds, warm sunshine bathing the room as your arm moved to cover your face.

"buenos días." you felt the bed dip as your girlfriend sat down, still refusing to move or acknowledge her in any way alexia chuckled and shook you softly. "stop." you mumbled, feeling her push your arm away as your eyes fluttered open, wincing at the sunlight and taking a moment to adjust.

alexia sat beside you with an amused smile embedded into her features. tanned skin covered with a thin sheen of sweat and clad only in shorts and a sports bra, freshly dyed blonde hair tied back into a neat ponytail.

"i said buenos días cariño." the older girl repeated, pulling back the blankets to reveal you as you only sighed deeply in response. "ale! you're all sweaty." you whined tiredly as she moved to lay down on top of you, her skin sticking uncomfortably to your bare legs as your top half was covered with an old spain jersey.

"earlier you beg me to get back into bed with you. i am now in bed with you and you tell me to go away!" the taller girl laughed softly as you halfheartedly tried to push her off, giving up quickly as she didn't budge so much as an inch.

"you're all gross." you grumbled, her lips gently trailing a series of soft kisses from your cheek down your jaw. "that is not very nice amor." your eyes met hers, pools of hazel staring down at you in amusement as she ducked her head and rubbed her damp hair in your face.

"alexia!" you groaned, pushing her off and rolling onto your side, mumbling a string of insults in spanish under your breath. "we have to change the sheets today anyway hermosa, stop being grumpy!" you reached back and swatted at thin air as her hands teasingly squeezed your ass which now faced toward her.

"you don't seem to mind the results of my work outs, hm?" as you rolled back onto your back she sat up on her knees, purposefully flexing her abs and biceps as you couldn't help but admire her incredibly toned physique.

"i've seen better." you shrugged, lazy smile curling onto your lips as she shook her head. "oh you have?" she climbed back on top of you, straddling your hips and pinning your arms by your head as you nodded.

you craned your head eagerly as she ducked hers as if to kiss you, though right as her lips ghosted yours you squealed feeling her fingers dig into your sides, trying desperately to throw her off as she only grinned and continued the attack.

"okay okay! you are the best!" you panted out, stomach aching from laughing so hard as your girlfriends body again laid down on top of yours, your hands moving to trace where you knew her tattoos were on her bare back as her face pressed into your neck.

"your laundrys done, i walked nala and i cooked your favourite mi vida. are you ready to get up now?" the catalan mumbled in your ear, her hands moving to thread through your hair, short nails scratching at your scalp.

maybe mornings weren't all that bad.

~

leah

you stirred as the first of leahs alarms went off, reaching behind your head to tap snooze, smacking the bedside table a few times before you eventually found her phone.

much too accustomed to your girlfriends routine you opened your arms as her body rolled over into you, shuffling up the bed a little as her taller form pressed tightly against you.

one hand threaded through her soft blonde locks which sprawled across the dark navy bedsheets, playing with it absentmindedly as the other moved to dip just below the waistband of her joggers to rub gentle circles into her hip bone with your thumb.

she lifted her chin slightly as you smiled and pressed your lips to her warm forehead, letting them linger there as you felt her body once again settle as she dozed back to sleep.

you knew the first of her alarms was really for you. it was to alert you to the fact leah needed to be up in around a half hour, and that during those critical thirty minutes she wanted nothing more than every single second of your attention even if still asleep.

you lifted one of your legs a few minutes later as her knee knocked yours, clad in a pair of soft grey joggers which matched the black pair covering leahs ridiculously long legs, one of which would slot itself in between yours further entangling your bodies together.

you flinched slightly as your blonde lover would exhale deeply, nose tucked into your collarbone as her warm breath tickled your sun kissed skin, both of you just returning from a weekend away in malta for her cousins birthday.

then ten minutes after the first the second alarm would sound, and your hand would move from leahs hip to again stretch behind your head and tap snooze.

you knew then to shuffle across and brace as leah moved to lay down on top of you, hiding her face in your neck as your nose would scrunch, her baby hairs tickling you as you'd gently move them away.

your hands would then sneak up the back of her shirt, though today she'd fallen asleep in a cropped tank top leaving her bare back exposed and ready. your nails would gently scratch lines up and down her back, comforted by the feeling of her weight on top of you as she'd begin to slowly stir.

her breathing still even you knew she was starting to wake as she inhaled deeply, nose grazing your shoulder before her lips pressed a lazy kiss to the column of your throat and you'd continue the rhythmic back scratches, your chin resting atop top her head.

you'd made the mistake of falling back to sleep once after a late night and the moment your hands fell to your sides you shot up awake as leahs teeth sunk into your shoulder, playfully biting you in warning as you'd chuckled and continued with what she wanted.

you'd stay in this position for a further ten minutes before leahs third and final alarm sounded. she'd always huff quietly as your nails left her skin, rolling off of you as you sat up with your back to the headboard, now stopping the alarms all together.

leahs head would wiggle its way into your lap as she stretched, eyes still closed and a grunt leaving her lips as she relaxed again. your fingers would then trace her facial features with a touch soft as a feather, your hair falling around the two of you like a curtain as your head dipped and lips pressed gentle loving kisses all over her face.

you'd mumble good morning against her forehead, tapping her nose as her bright eyes would open, corners of her eyelids thick with sleep as she'd rub at them.

stretching her arms up her hands with a quiet grunt would clasp the back of your neck, thumb rubbing small circles in the middle of your shoulder blades as you were pulled down to properly kiss her good morning.

then warning her of the time you'd gently pull her hands away, kissing her finger tips and dropping them to her sides, her head moving off your lap as you slid out of bed and she'd follow. wordlessly the two of you would move to the kitchen, leah taking a seat at the bench as you moved to the coffee machine.

most mornings her head would slump to rest against her forearms which crossed on the cool marble, eyes closed and drifting in and out to the gentle hum of the coffee machine, feeling the warm sun bathe her back from the huge glass doors that lead out to your backyard.

but on colder mornings, or just when she was feeling a little extra touch starved her body would cling to yours. you'd only smile and settle into the taller girl, her arms hung loosely around your torso often tucked under whatever form of material was covering you.

in winter you'd complain that her fingers were icy cold and she'd only smile into your neck as they ran teasingly up and down your naked sides making you squirm in her hold.

the english captain would never utter a single word until a drop of caffeine hit her lips, and you knew better than to expect anything different.

you knew just how she liked her coffee, i know leah doesn't drink coffee but lets just go with it, after all you'd been making it for her the same way in the same faded arsenal mug for the last three years, forever teasing that the more she drank from it the less and less the bright red crest was even visible.

but still, she refused to get a new one.

you'd hand her the mug and she'd reward you with a soft kiss in silent thanks. not much of a coffee drinker yourself you'd brew a tea, leah waiting patiently beside you sipping on her own drink. if she was awake enough she would sigh impatiently as you'd playfully send her a glare.

then hands warmed by your own mug the two of you would move to the sofa, leah sitting down first and stretching out as you settled yourself sideways in her lap, back pressed against the arm of the sofa as you clicked on the television.

her coffee finished and tired state fading this was when the defender would finally speak, arms encircling you and squeezing tightly. you'd run your free hand through her hair as her chin rested on your sternum.

your heart would swoon as a "mornin gorgeous" would fall from her lips and she'd steal a mouthful of your tea, moving the empty mug onto the table beside hers and pulling your body as tightly into hers as she could.

your routine was timed down to the second, and leah had another twenty minutes before she needed to shower before training, so the two of you cuddled up and often watched the morning news.

well more accurately you watched the news as as her eyes watched you, shining with a sort of tender adoration and hopelessly lovesick gaze that nobody would ever see but you.

~

alessia

you were wide awake long before you heard the first alarm go off, already laid on your stomach and scrolling through your phone. you gave it a few seconds, glancing to the mess of blonde hair peeking out from the covers to see if she stirred.

when she remained dead asleep you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up and leaning over her to flick off her alarm, the insistently annoying tone already making your head hurt.

knowing she had at least six more alarms set and didn't need to be up for another little while you allowed her to keep sleeping, flicking off the second and third alarm, eyes rolling in disbelief when once again she didn't even move.

on the fourth alarm you left it to ring out, seeing if an elongated period of time might mean it got through to her the way the shrill beeping was drilling into your own head. but once again, nothing.

"less, alarm." you shook her gently, hand above the covers as once more, nothing. "alessia, alarm." you warned, sitting up and now using both hands to jolt her body side to side. "yeah alright." she mumbled tiredly, one arm pushing you away from her as the other smacked around to stop the alarm.

you foolishly assumed that would be the end of it and she'd start to stir, but no the blondes body just collapsed right back into the sheets, pulling them up tighter toward her as you sighed deeply.

normally she was always a little harder to get out of bed of a morning, but having seen this pattern repeat itself too many times you knew today was going to be a real struggle.

but she needed to be up when you were like it or not, you'd made breakfast plans with your mothers and despite that your girlfriend had still stayed up late into the night on the phone to ella.

you'd kicked her out of the bed around a quarter to twelve, growing annoyed of the giggles and hushed conversations above your head, your girlfriend mumbling an apology into your hair and kissing the crown of your temple before retreating into the living room.

you'd had no idea when she'd come to bed, all you knew is that you were long asleep by the time she had and you'd woken up with her beside you. though it seemed she'd slipped in rather late considering her extra determination not to be awake right now.

a quick check of the time showed you had around fifteen minutes to battle with her about getting up, which knowing the striker laying dead asleep beside you was not enough time but you'd need to make do with what you had.

"lessi baby." you started softly, laying back down and moving her hair out of her face, slotting your body into hers and softly kissing all over her face. not even a flinch.

"time to wake up my love, we have plans to get ready for." you cooed in her ear, placing a few loving kisses to her neck as your hand moved to rub slowly up and down her back. "don't care." was all you received in response alongside a troubled sigh.

"yeah you do baby, you love your mum and we're going to have breakfast with her. it's already nine thirty, you need to get up." you spoke gently, hand moving to rest on her hip now as you again shook her body.

"no!" alessia groaned grumpily, rolling to face away from you as her next alarm sounded, her hand this time quick to tap it off within a few seconds. "yes!" you mocked, moving to sit on top of her, straddling the back of her thighs.

"come on baby, open those pretty blue eyes for me." you gently pushed up her top, ducking down and leaving a trail of soft kisses along her bare back up the line of her spine. "lessi." you sung out in her ear, only an annoyed groan following as her hand swatted to try and push you off.

"m'not going." she grumbled tiredly, tucking her arms under her head with a huff. "yes you are." you nodded, sitting back up and moving to jab gently at her sides. "no i'm not." she argued, face still smushed against her arms as you rolled your eyes.

"you are, so time to get up." you sang out, still poking and prodding at her, tickling her sides gently. "get off and stop fucking poking me!" she huffed moodily and you squealed as she suddenly rolled over beneath you sending you tumbling back to the bed.

"babe no!" you laughed but it was too late, the taller girl belly flopping down on top of you, pinning your body to the bed with her own. "sshh, go to sleep." the striker whispered, covering your face with her hand.

"get off me you dope, we need to get up!" you laughed, trying to wrench her hand off of you. "alessia!" you groaned now, grunting as you tried to push your body up but her larger form refused to budge. your annoyance grew as you felt her lips curl into a smile from her face tucked into your neck.

"i know you're awake so just work with me here and get up!" you grunted still trying to push her off as she purposefully went limp making it harder. "what time did you go to bed?" you sighed, starfishing out on the bed taking a breather.

"alessia. what time?" you repeated, tone more firm at her reluctance to answer. "four thirty, tooney and i played a little fifa and i lost track." her head lifted, eyes puffy with sleep as a guilty smile crept its way into her normally adorably sleepy features and your eyes bugged.

"oh you're going to breakfast! get off me right now russo." you warned seriously, the older girl doing as you asked but you groaned again as you tried to get up and her arms snaked round you.

"can't leave me now." she mumbled tiredly, arms pinned to your sides as she pulled your back into her front, swinging her legs over your own and sighing contentedly. "just lay there quietly, shut up, look gorgeous and cuddle me." your girlfriend requested, kissing your cheek before her head thumped back down to the pillow.

"if you wanted cuddles you should have woken up to your first alarm. we don't have time for this less!" you sighed, forever a stickler for punctuality as your girlfriend was the polar opposite hardly ever not fashionably late to everything.

"there's always time for a cuddle with me baby." the blonde debated, only squeezing you tighter and wiggling her body against you to prove her point. "i'll make you a deal." you started, one bright blue eye cracking open in silent confirmation she was listening.

"you get up right now, get ready and we go to breakfast. then when we get back i'll lay in bed with you for the rest of the day and we can cuddle all you want baby." you bargained, wiggling one arm free to affectionately graze her cheek.

"this feels like a trap." alessia mumbled warily, aware of your productive nature and that you forever used your weekends for errands and life admin, in disbelief you'd give all that up.

"oh for god sakes, less! we need to get up please." you whined, head thumping dejectedly. "fine!" the blonde eventually groaned, letting you go as she sat herself up. you couldn't help but smile as she glared down at you tiredly, pushing her hair to one side of her head and rubbing her adorably puffy face.

"alessia!" you grunted as once more she belly flopped down on top of you, wriggling around until she was comfortable, moving one hand to thread through your hair as the other covered your mouth shushing you softly.

"we will get up in five more minutes."

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.