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#i’m not dealing with anything i’m laughing my ass off
oceaneyesinla · 3 days
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Coming Home
I needed some soft Chuuya, so I wrote some soft Chuuya. This is VERY self indulgent and very fluffy
Slightly suggestive at the end - nickname used: angel
Divider by @/cafekitsune
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Chuuya can’t help but release a tired, relieved sigh as the door to his apartment swings open. He’s been away for a week, and that’s a week too long when he knows just what’s waiting for him at home. You’ve ruined him for missions that take him away from Yokohama - how can he spend even a second away from the brightest star in the sky of his life? If you weren’t so important to Mafia operations in the city, he would bring you with him every time he leaves. Alas, it’s not to be - your biochemical knowledge and connections to the local hospitals make you too valuable to lose. 
Instead, the two of you spend all hours of the day and night on the phone; 3AM video calls, lunchtime phone conversations and good morning messages having to suffice even though all he wants is to wrap you in his arms and never let go. For now, he’s home, and the boss promised him at least a couple of days rest in return for going on this mission. It was an important one, and there were very few people Mori would trust such a task to.
The patter of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts, and he can feel a smile tugging at his lips. Clearly, you heard him open the door. He makes quick work of taking off his shoes and he’s just depositing his bag off to one side to deal with later when you round the corner. Your face lights up as you skid to a halt, almost sliding straight into the opposite wall. The laughter that bubbles out of him is soft and affectionate, as if his body needs some way to release all the love he feels for you before his heart explodes with it.
You look cozy, all wrapped up in one of his sweaters and fluffy socks on your feet, and you look like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He opens his arms, already knowing what your plan is, and he’s absolutely right. You barrel down the hallway, jumping into his arms and clinging to him with all your strength. Your legs lock around his waist, and you burrow your face into the crook of his neck, leaving little kisses that he swears he can feel even through the all the fabric of his clothes.
“Hey angel.” The last remnants of tension bleed out of him as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your favourite body wash, the one you started using when you decided it reminded you of him. Now, it just reminds you both of home.
“Missed you.” You’re pouting when you pull away to meet his eye, but it doesn’t last long when he peppers your face in kisses, reducing you to a giggling mess in moments. 
Kicking the door shut with his foot, he carries you further into the apartment, bypassing the couch and heading straight for the bedroom, “Missed you too. Did you do anything fun while I was gone? Spend the money I left you?”
You launch into an animated description of all the things you bought while he was gone and Chuuya could feel the fond smile growing on his face. This is what he misses most when you’re apart - the light in your eyes and the excitement in your voice is never the same through a phone screen.
The squeak you let out as he drops you onto the bed makes him laugh once again, and he quickly strips out of his work clothes and changes into something more comfortable. You’ve already tucked yourself under the covers by the time he’s done, and he joins you, immediately pulling you practically on top of him. After he’s been away, he likes to have you as close as possible. If he could crack open his ribcage and tuck you away in there, safe and sound, he would.
“What’s the plan, Chuu?” Your sweet voice is music to his ears, and he leans in to press a kiss to your head.
“First, we’re taking a nap, because I want to cuddle and I know you do too.” He lets his hand slide down your back, trailing down to the plush of your ass and giving it a light squeeze, “Then I’m going to show you just how much I missed my pretty angel.” He moves his hand back up to rub along your spine, smiling when he feels you relax into him, “Then we’re going out for dinner.”
You shift a little, dropping a couple of kisses along the sensitive skin of his neck before you snuggle back into his chest, “Okay. Love you, Chuu.”
“Love you too, angel.” The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is your soft smile, your features nothing short of angelic as you rest on him, content in his hold and infinitely trusting. His final thought before he slips into sleep is that heaven must feel like the love you share.
@pixelcafe-network
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dear-ao3 · 1 year
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i find it very funny that people get offended on our behalf when other people don’t understand our jokes
we are not offended by people not understanding our jokes. we knew people would react like this. we think it’s funny. i am rarely offended by anything that gets put in my ask box. i am at the circus, it would be weird if there were no clowns.
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inkedinshadows · 1 month
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Nights and Days
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Pairing: Azriel × reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺
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Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.
After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.
They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.
“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.
“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”
He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.
They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”
“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”
“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”
She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”
Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”
If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”
Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.
“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.
Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.
“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”
Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”
Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”
Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”
“So?”
He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?
“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”
Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.
Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.
She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”
He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”
She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”
“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”
“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”
Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.
“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”
She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”
Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.
“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.
“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”
“It matters to me.”
His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.
“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.
“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”
This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”
And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.
“Sleep on the bed. With me.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.
Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”
She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?
“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”
“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”
She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”
The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”
“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?
“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.
“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”
He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.
She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.
“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.
“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”
How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.
But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.
“You're cold, aren't you?”
She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Prick.”
“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”
Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”
His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”
Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.
She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.
Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.
“Make room for me?”
His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.
“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.
Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.
“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”
His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”
“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.
Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.
“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.
Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”
Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.
She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.
“Can you turn over?”
Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.
“Why?”
“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”
It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.
But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.
Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.
Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”
Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.
And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.
His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.
She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.
What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.
“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”
“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”
Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.
Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”
“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”
“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.
Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.
“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”
She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”
Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.
She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.
Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.
She wanted him. She needed him.
Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.
She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”
And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.
“Because I want to see you first, princess.”
Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”
He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.
Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.
Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.
“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.
Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.
His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.
“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.
“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”
Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”
“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”
Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.
His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”
She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”
A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.
Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.
His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.
But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.
“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”
A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”
He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.
“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”
She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.
Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.
“Do you want to come, princess?”
Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
“Use your words, Y/N.”
“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.
But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.
She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”
He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”
The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.
He wasn't wearing any underwear.
The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.
Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”
For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.
Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.
Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”
She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.
“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”
With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.
He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.
Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.
“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”
His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.
A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.
She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.
They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.
Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”
“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”
Wrong words.
“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.
She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”
Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.
Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.
A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.
As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.
“Can you promise me something?”
She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”
Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”
Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”
Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.
“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”
Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.
She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.
Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.
“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”
His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.
When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.
“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”
Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…
She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.
“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”
His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”
“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”
Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.
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Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover
(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)
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evie-sturns · 5 months
Text
toddler - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————
7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
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houseofceline · 9 months
Text
My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: Asshole Theo?
Summary: You wish you never woke up.
Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!
< 6
__________________
“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 
“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 
“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 
You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 
“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 
“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 
“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 
“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.
___________________
A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 
What the hell.
He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.
Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 
“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 
“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 
“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.
“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 
“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 
“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”
“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 
He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 
“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 
What an annoying girl. 
He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 
“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 
“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 
“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 
“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 
“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 
“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 
“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 
“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 
“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 
Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.
The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 
“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 
“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 
Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 
“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 
Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 
But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 
Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 
“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 
“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 
Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 
“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 
Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 
Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 
Maybe he deserved that. 
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blushweddinggowns · 1 month
Text
Eddie sighed as he turned to the bartender, “Can I have the cheapest beer you got? But you only let me have one?”
The guy nodded at him, passing one over with a sympathetic smile, “Designated driver?”
“Something like that,” Eddie said, his eyes wandering back to the dance floor. At least the two of them were having fun, giggling and twirling each other around. They were cute together, always were. No one could make Steve smile like Robin could, a fact that Eddie was just going to have to accept.
He sipped his beer as he watched them, smiling to himself a little at how happy they looked. Until someone was tapping on his shoulder. Eddie glanced up, surprised to see a guy standing there. He looked… good. J.Crew-esque with a bright smile.
“You don’t really look like the type to come in here,” He said, taking the bar stool next to him.
Eddie gave him a once over, deciding to be quick about not leading him on. He shrugged,  “I’m not, but the people I love are.”
The guy nodded along, his eyes trailing to the dance floor. Eddie followed the line of it, frowning when he realized he was looking right at Steve. Robin was in the middle of dipping him, both of them laughing. Eddie swallowed as he looked at them, watching the shine of the bright, colorful dance light cross over his face. He looked gorgeous, relaxed and giggly as he went to return the favor to her. Though now that Eddie was looking around he was realized he wasn’t the only one staring.
“Speaking of that,” The guy went on, “What’s the deal with the guy you came in with?”
Eddie’s frown only deepened at the question, “Who, Steve?”
“Is that his name?” The stranger asked, obviously interested. 
At least he had good taste, Eddie had to give him that. Even if the question had his eye twitching, “Yeah, that’s his name.”
"So is he single or is the blonde a permanent fixture?" He asked. 
Eddie snorted, “She’s a permanent fixture, all right. But she’s queer as a three-dollar bill, so not much to worry about there.”
That was the wrong answer if the excited look on his face was any indicator. 
“You know what kind of drink he likes?” He asked, already motioning for the bartender. 
Eddie swallowed, the sick feeling coming back. The worst part is that he could see it. Steve with someone like this. Handsome, self-assured, confident. Actually comfortable in their own skin. He couldn’t help but think they would look good together. 
The thought just wasn’t enough to stop Eddie from blurting, “Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend after all.” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he just say that? Eddie bit the inside of his cheek at the stupid lie. At how easily it had rolled off his tongue. 
“Oh yeah?” He asked, disappointment coloring his voice. 
Eddie had ample time to correct himself, to say my bad. He’s my best friend. That was a slip of the tongue. To say anything else.  
He doesn’t.
No, not when the anxiety he had firmly nestled in the pit of his stomach finally started to soften. Besides, Eddie liked how disheartened he looked. 
He liked it enough to keep lying his ass off. He took another sip of his beer, feigning casual, “Hard to tell since the two of them have been hanging off each other all night. But yeah, he’s mine.”
He hadn’t expected for those words to feel so good.  
The guy sighed, “Well, good for you man. He’s a looker, I doubt I’m the only one who had my eyes on him.”
“He has that effect on people,” Eddie said, his eyes trailing around the room. Watching every face that was looking Steve’s way. He hated it on them just as much as he did on the stranger next to him. 
Fuck it, he was already in this deep. He might as well keep it going.
“Feel free to spread the word,” Eddie added as the guy stepped away, “It will save me some time.”
“Will do,” He sighed again before walking off, setting his sights on someone else. 
The bartender chuckled as he wandered off, clearly eavesdropping in, “You want me to spread the word too? I’ve already got four guys who are looking to buy him a drink when he gets off the floor.”
Eddie was barely surprised. 
“Spread it like wildfire,” He said easily, his eyes going straight back to Steve.
Part of him had expected some guilt when people started looking his way. Whispering to each other while Eddie glared at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get to Steve. He knew he could cut an intimidating figure when he wanted to. The way he dressed usually did most of the heavy lifting, but he didn’t doubt how harshly his expressions were coming off. It also helped that every last guy who came to saddle up to the bartender to try and get a drink going for Steve walked away disappointed once he pointed a thumb towards Eddie’s direction. It definitely earned him a disproportionate tip, despite the fact the Eddie was internally freaking the fuck out.
He didn’t feel guilty, but he felt… possessive. Offended almost that people didn't just assume he was taken. Something that he didn’t know how to rationalize. But that didn’t stop him from trying. 
from the latest chapter of this fic
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slowbison · 1 year
Note
Could you write reader Fucking Miguel and leaving him full of cum and desperate while having a cage on getting so desperate and needy and then making him go to meetings and patrols
And could it be villain reader
a/n: your mind is yummyyyy, never thought of villain reader. well i kinda did, but ur's activated a deep part of my brain that was like yeahh this one. anyway, hope ya like :]
Bottom! Miguel O'Hara x Villain! Male Reader
words: 2.6k
warnings: humiliation, anal sex, butt plug, chastity device (cock cage), smut
“We really should go out on a date sometime, hm?” You said, rolling your hips with a particularly sharp thrust into the trembling man. The man was bent over a desk, claws gripping the desk and kept spewing out broken cries as you fucked him.
“Please let me cum, I-I can’t take it anymore.. please!” He begged, wailing as you continued to rock in him.
Your eyes darkened and grabbed the back of his head, rubbing his head into the desk. “I warned you Spidey not to be late or I’ll blow up everyone in that damned bank,” You leaned down, snarling in his ear and picked up the pace, fucking him harder into the desk.
Miguel arched his back and a silent cry escaped his mouth, clenching around your cock harder. He could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head as you continued your relentless pace, digging your hand into his head and hips. You groaned at the feeling of his tight ass, sucking you in deeper. “Haha, it’s a good thing that Nueva’s number one whore will do anything to protect them, right darling?”
Shame and arousal coursed within Miguel as you reminded the man how he got to this predicament.
It had been another night of patrolling Nueva York, he was alone this time around which meant his pace of dealing with criminals slowed. During one of his fights, he forgot the arrangement made between you and him on meeting at a specific location. He only realized after the fight, hearing a loud explosion in the distance that you were upset at his delayed arrival. Making his way as fast as he could, he found you standing at the top of a bank, detonator in hand. Spider-Man knew that only the left side of the bank that had no civilian’s was blown and he revealed himself, carefully walking closer to you and the tied up woman at his feet.
“Oh! Spider-Man, so good of you to finally join us,” You sneered at him, stepping over the hostage under your foot.
“V/n, let the girl go. It’s me that you want, not her.”
You huffed at the man and picked up the woman off the floor by her hair, shoving the detonator in her face. She cried harder and screamed every time the button was slightly pressed up against her cheek, desperately staring at the hero. “Unfortunately, I’m not interested in pets that refuse orders” You spoke plainly, moving your hand to the woman’s face, gripping it in your palm. “Maybe I should take this one and train it properly, hm? She’d make a fine slut don’t you think?” You purred, wiping the woman’s tears away with your thumb as she cried harder.
Miguel was about to take another step before you angrily jabbed the detonator in his direction.
“One more fucking step and everyone blows up right now, stay back.” You hissed, the woman began to tremble more and pleaded to be let go. “Look what you’ve done Spidey! The poor lamb is so scared”
“You can do anything you want with me, just let her go V/n.”
“Anything?” You mused.
“Heh, fine then. Catch,” You laughed, shoving the detonator in the woman's mouth and throwing her off the building. Miguel jumped to save her, wrapping his arms around her and landed on the floor. Taking the device out of her mouth, quickly disarming it before looking back up, only to find you had disappeared.
Gritting his teeth, Miguel went to chase after you, leaving the woman and the police force to handle the rest of the situation. He caught up to you, jumping from rooftops and hovering cars before slipping through an alleyway.
Still hot on your tail, Miguel clawed on the walls of the alley, but felt a strong tug on his foot that slammed him into an old abandoned office, a dark snicker coming from above him. Miguel felt his anger rising and began trading blows with you. Punching you square on the face while you kicked at his side, watching as he tumbled into a corner. He growled, claws protruding as he pounced at you once more, blocking his claws with your knife.
The fight continued for some time, both of men bleeding from cuts and bruised from the battle. You had the hero’s chest pinned against the desk and arms clasped in your grip, rutting against his ass, groaning at the feeling. Miguel returning your grinding with his own, stifled a low whine behind his clenched teeth hoping to stop any noises from escaping. You laughed at his attempt to stop himself from giving you the pleasure that he enjoyed your toying.
“Why hide that you’re enjoying this slut? If you give me your ass, I could do much more than just this, darling” You cooed, giving him a particular strong thrust, a small whine slipping past his lips.
“Or should I disable it for you?”
Miguel craned his neck to look at you and tensed, before the pixels covering his ass dissipated, revealing that he had nothing on underneath. You grinned, slithering your hand from his arms to grab a handful of his cheeks. “Not even wearing anything decent underneath, you really love to give easy access to anyone that promises to fuck you” You said, kneading the mound in your hands then slapping it, repeating the action a few more times. Each slap eliciting a small groan or moan that got progressively louder as you hit harder.
“Don’t mind if I do then, doll.”
Was all Miguel remembered as for the next few minutes you began your assault on him. Eating and pounding his ass into the hard desks while he tried, but failed to maintain some dignity as if he wasn’t just some shameless whore moaning and begging for one of the city's notorious villains. Leading to the current situation where he’s been begging to cum after you’ve denied his requests multiple times, citing that he should just be a good whore and take what he gets.
Your breath hitched as you mercilessly pounded into him, soon to reach your own pleasure. Miguel let out a wanton cry as his vision turned white, body trembling, trying to contain his desire to cum all over the desk. The sight of how the man squirms underneath you spurs you on, balls tighten as you fucked into him as roughly as you could.
Miguel begging slurred as he barely managed any coherent word. Leading to the quivering man’s orgasm wrenched from him with a drawled moan, spilling all over the desk with some dripping to the floor. Realizing that he failed to adhere to your command, he clenched around your shaft in hopes for your forgiveness.
You grit your teeth at the action and thrusted harder, slamming into the man continuously then stilled as your cum coated his walls. Letting out a deep groan as emptied inside, determined to fill him full. Miguel pitifully whined at the feeling, even more so when you left. You returned with a plug in your hand and eased it into him, hearing him softly groan at the intrusion.
Miguel began to catch his breath, loosening his grip on the desk now that he no longer needed to hold on for life at the force of your thrusts.
“Oh don’t relax just yet doll, we’re not done here” You grinned, flipping him on his back. Miguel didn’t put up a fight as you manhandled him, only getting curious when he felt cold metal encase his flaccid cock.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miguel hissed at the cold feeling, lifting his body off the desk to get a better look.
“I’ve decided to extend our little session together Spidey, extending your punishment” You muttered, adjusting the chastity device around his cock, a pleased hum as it fit perfectly. The man grabbed your other hand that held the key and met his gaze.
“I have no use for a pet that doesn’t listen to orders, much less one that disobeys” You stated, grabbing the man’s face. His mask hid his expression, but you could feel his conviction from your words. Releasing your hand from his grasp and over his caged dick, aligning the key at the top with the lock. “So then, will you accept your punishment and wait for orders or do I have to use extreme measures?” You spoke lowly, bored eyes staring into the hero.
Miguel bit his lip in thought, “If I wear that, don’t terrorize the city for the week, promise that.”
“Trying to set demands with me? You really need to know your place” You tutted, giving him a sly smile before continuing, “Fine, since you’re the best free slut in this city.” You chuckled darkly and slipped the key into the lock, pocketing the key.
“Clean yourself up, your little spider friends should be arriving soon. Be good until then, pet.” You warned, escaping through a door, leaving the man to make himself presentable before he could be caught. Just as he was about finished, the wall busted open as the Scarlet Spider and Spider Woman arrived.
“That was a perfect dramatic entrance, now where’s the V/n.  I’ll trap him with my amazing biceps, maybe get some work in with my quads, while you back me up.” Ben rasped, flexing his arms and scanned around the room.
“He got away,” Miguel snapped, turning to leave, a slight limp noticeable as he walked.
“You alright there? Seems like he had you good if you're walking like that” Jess asked, watching as the man tensed and straightened his back. “You can ride with me if you want.”
“No thanks, I’m fine. Let’s just get back to HQ and finish up the meeting for today” Miguel said, jumping out of the wall. He groaned as he could feel the plug nested so deeply inside and grit his teeth to stop himself from moaning.
Ben huffed, upset that there wasn’t going to be any action and followed behind, Jess riding along besides him.
Once at headquarters, Miguel could barely think straight as he desperately tried not to think about how full he felt with your cum still warm. He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to let out a needy whine in front of everyone. Worse when he felt his dick twitching at the thought yet was confined in its cage. It served to remind him of how he was under your mercy and only you could decide to give him relief. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, helplessly trying to will his boner away while a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder.
“You alright Miguel? If it’s about V/n, we’re sure to catch him next time buddy.” Peter softly spoke, Mayday tilting her head at the anguished expression on his face. Not wanting to draw more attention to himself, he calmly stated to the father, “I’m fine Peter, I’ll handle it on my own.”
Peter wanted to say more, but Miguel stood and walked to the front of the office to give an overview of the current state of the multiverse. He had hoped it would distract him from any thoughts surrounding V/n and how he wanted nothing more than to track down the man, kneeling at his feet.
The sentiment continued as he returned back to the city on patrol, hoping to find the villain as he could feel his cock stirred in its cage. He wasn’t alone this time and was joined by the Spectacular Spider-Man much to his chagrin. They had heard a man’s terrified screams that led them to a group of thugs giving him a beat down.
Miguel and the young Peter Parker had assumed that it would be a relatively simple job as they were just average thugs. But as the fight continued with only two down and three more to go, they realized they were much tougher than anticipated. Still, nothing they can’t handle. Then they heard a deep, menacingly laugh coming from above, one that Miguel knew all too well.
“V/n!” Miguel and Peter yelled. Watching the man smile and bowed to greet his audience.
“Pleasure to be of service, though I’m only interested in one of you spiders yelling my name.” You purred, eyes locking onto Miguel’s, even if you couldn’t see his eyes.
“Boss! Don’t worry about these guys, I’ll take care of them” Peter said as he threw one of the henchmen into the wall. “You chase after him! I’ll take care of the guy who's hurt too.”
Miguel nodded and crawled up to the roof, chasing after the man once more. A mixture of anger that his heroic side wanted to capture you and put you in prison where you belong, but an overwhelming desire to continue where they left off.
He watched as you turned the corner and slipped into an opened window. Carefully coming up to the small entrance, he squeezed in and stood inside the apartment. There was rustling coming from a door down the hall and silently crept towards the noise. Peering into the door was V/n lighting a candle with a match and flicking the dead stick into a corner, a pleasant aroma filling the air.
“It’s good that it’s just you here, I’d hate for us to be rudely interrupted” You said, turning the lamp on the dresser on before sitting on the chair across from the bed. Miguel disabled his location and sent a quick message to young Peter not to worry about him. He was about to walk into the room when you shook your head, tutting your lips at him.
“Crawl,” You demanded.
Miguel was apprehensive about doing such a degrading act, but with his cock starting to beg for the man’s attention, the pain and arousal of being trapped in a cage swept over him. You pat your thigh as he slowly get's down on his hands and knees, crawling to you. He felt so humiliated even if there was no one around, making him clench around the plug.
Once he was nestled between your legs, you murmured a gentle “Good boy” and softly petted his head, as if he was your loving pet, a dog begging for attention. Clasping your hand at the back of his head, you shoved his face into your dick bulging in your pants. Miguel felt part of his anger reignite, wanting to curse you out in Spanish, but his body betrayed him and a low whine emerged from his throat.
Pixels dissipated from his mask, allowing only his mouth available and began to mouth at your cock, hoping to please you. It only fueled his embarrassment and shame as he kept letting out needy moans, acting like some cheap whore for a man who should be put behind bars.
You chuckled at his pathetic state and watched as the man who denied that he enjoys being treated as such, didn’t even realize he began to hump your leg. Moving his head away, you unbuckle your belt and pull your cock free from his restraints, something the man longed for as well.
“C’mon then” you paused, watching Miguel look up at you. Behind the mask covering his eyes, you could feel his lustful gaze through it and grinned, licking your lips.
“Get back to work, whore.”
You were going to have fun breaking him.
a/n: not all that sure if anyone would be exactly interested, but part of V/n was inspired by the Joker. but like fanfiction joker, if that makes sense which prolly doesn’t. the types where he’s like crazy but like doing just enough to keep the villain title going so Batman keeps going for him. well at least from the ones I’ve read, heheh.
up next: reader request! leon s kennedy x top male reader. leon and reader, top of the academy students and fierce rivals. must learn to work together to rescue ashley from the insane cult. god bless her soul if she's got to deal with those angry horny dogs.
3K notes · View notes
loving-barnes · 3 months
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - VERSION OF YOU
A/N: Inspired by the Deadpool and Wolverine trailer. Inaccurate things when it comes to timelines and shit. Beware, it was not edited properly. Sorry.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: angsty?, attempt at being funny?
My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!
Words: 2500+
Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)
FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST
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LOGAN HOWLETT - VERSION OF YOU
“Do you think this is gonna work?” 
“Agent Smith said it would.” 
“It’s fucking weird, you know?” 
“A lot of fucked up things happened before. This is nothing compared to what I have to deal with now. So, ladies first.”
Wade pointed at the weird-looking orange door. He didn’t want to walk through them first. That fucker shoved Y/N right into the portal before he took a step forward. Coward. 
They appeared in front of a dive bar, during a bright sunny day. Y/N looked at Wade, well, more like at his masked face. “Wasn’t this place supposed to be fucked up?” she asked. “It’s too nice outside.”
“It will become in a matter of hours. Now, here’s the plan,” he said. “We’ll go in. I’ll talk first. If I won’t move with that stubborn mountain of a man, it’s your turn. Do whatever it takes to bring him with us - smile at him, have sex with him, for all I care. And, who knows, maybe we will know whether Agent Smith was right.” 
“I call bullshit,” said Y/N, cracking her knuckles. “I don’t know him. I think it’s a fairy tale he made up so I would work with you,” she said, fixing her tactical suit. “Can’t believe I’m doing this shit with you, Wade.”
He chuckled. “Come on, you love spending time with me, kicking ass, making men suffer.” 
“I will make you suffer.”
Together, they approached the entrance door of the dive bar. Wade was the first one to walk in. During the day, there weren’t many people around. Some people gave them brief attention but quickly went back to their beers. Y/N glared at Wade. 
“Our guy is right there,” he said, pointing to the bar. 
And there he was - their target - the man they had to collect to save the universe. Was it the universe or the multiverse? Whatever it was, he was crucial for this mission. 
Y/N eyed his back - the dark jacket he wore and how bent he was over the bar. The sadness radiated from him. Something was happening inside her. As if she experienced a magnetic pull towards him.
Y/N showed Wade forward to start. She was curious to see the man’s reaction. She sat at a nearby table ready to watch the scene unfold. Of course, Wade used a beautiful opening line that would normally get his assed whipped. 
“Hi, peanut.”
Y/N bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. This was Wade, typical Wade Wilson. Fucking Deadpool and her best friend. How the fuck did they manage to become friends? She knew him for a long time, fought alongside him and tolerated that dipshit. 
“Look, lady, I’m not interested,” the man said gruffly. His voice was deep, husky and kind of sexy. It made Y/N tilt her head. Interesting. 
It was painful to watch the interaction. Wade tried to get him off the chair, away from the bar before he could explain anything. Such a rookie mistake. It was time to intervene before Wade overstepped and jeopardised this whole mission. 
She got off the chair and walked to the tall, well-built man. With a smile, she tapped on his shoulder. He instantly turned, his weird metal claws already out of his hands, ready to fight. When their eyes met, she showed him her bright smile and teeth. “Hi, peanut.” 
His face changed from pissed to shocked in less than a second. For a second it lost its colour. The man’s mouth opened wide. “Y/N?” he said her name gently, too gently for her liking. “Holy shit.” 
“Ha, Agent Smith was right,” Wade laughed, pointing a finger at her face. It got him three claws into his stomach. It made him grunt and fell to his knees. “Ouch. That fucking hurt.” 
“You know me?” Y/N asked, not believing the whole story she was told back in the TVA. 
That question took him aback. “What kind of dumb question is that, baby? Of course, I know ya,” and his hands reached for her face, holding her cheeks. To Y/N’s surprise, she let him. “How is this possible? How are you alive?” 
It was Y/N’s time for her eyes to widen in complete shock. “Woah,” she stepped back. 
“It’s me,” he said, frowning. “It’s Logan.” 
Wade decided to step in, waving a hand at them. “I don’t want to interrupt this romantic reunion, but we need to talk to you, big guy. It’s important.” 
“You came here with the weírd-looking sex toy?” Logan’s eyes were back on Y/N. “What the fuck is this? The the fuck is going on?”
That made her laugh. “Ha, Wade, even he thinks you look like a sex toy. With Cable, we are now three who think the same thing.” 
“Fuck you, Y/N,” he spat back. 
The man, Logan, pushed away from her, glaring. His claws were in the air, ready to strike if necessary. “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Deadpool and this is my annoying friend Y/N,” Wade introduced them. 
“You are an ass,” Y/N glared at Wade.
“Impossible,” Logan shook his head, bumping into a wooden stool. “You are dead,” he pointed a finger directly at Y/N’s face. “You cannot be here. You died in my fucking arms! Who the fuck are you?” he raised his voice at her. 
“I’m Y/N,” she said. 
“Don’t bullshit me!” 
There was a sound of a loading gun. All three lazily turned their gaze to the bartender who was pointing a shotgun at them. None of them was intimidated by that. “Get the fuck out of my bar! Now! Or I will shoot you all.” 
“I think this is our cue,” Wade whispered. 
Logan grabbed Wade by the red top of his suit, pushing him out of the bar like he was a ragdoll. Y/N immediately followed them out, ready to step in if necessary. She wasn’t worried about Wade. He was immortal. His body parts would grow back. She was more ready to step in intellectually. That was something Wade didn’t know how to do. 
“Everyone calm down,” she said. 
“No!” they both yelled at her, already fighting like children.
Y/N looked at herself, reading this story and made a sour face. “Men,” she sighed and turned her gaze to the two men who were about to tear each other apart. A purple-looking mist appeared in her hands and she pushed the men away from each other. 
“That’s enough, gentlemen,” she said. 
There was blood coming out of Wade’s abdomen - the marks from the claws. She had to shake her head. Wade had his gun out, pointing it directly at Logan. “Will you fucking listen, you oaf?” 
Logan’s eyes moved from him back to Y/N. She saw how his stance relaxed. It was painful to look at her, see someone he lost. His claws retraced back into his hands. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles becoming white. “How come you are alive?” he asked. 
Y/N sighed. “Because I’m not her… me… uh,” she shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
“Fucking talk, woman,” he raised his voice. 
She raised her hand to calm him. “I can explain. But I need you to come with us, Logan.”
His eyes closed. When Y/N said her name, more emotions ran across his face. “How can I trust you? I can’t seem to trust my own mind.” 
Wade was ready to say something stupid, but Y/N quickly shut him up by throwing him away with her power. “Believe me, it doesn’t make any sense to me, too. I can give you an explanation if you will help us.” 
“Help with what?” he raised a brow. 
Y/N made a face, changed it to a frown. ”To save the multiverse?” she said it like a question, hesitant whether he’d believe her. “Before you say anything, I know it sounds fucking crazy. Trust me, I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around it.” 
Wade came running back. “That was rude, you know?” 
“Shut up,” she glared at him. “We need his help, so let me handle it. Just for once, Wade, I need you to zip it, okay?” 
He leaned closer to Logan. “She’s hormonal,” he whispered to him. 
This time, Y/N decided to ignore his comment. “Please,” she turned her gaze to Logan. “Will you come with us? Help us save our world, all of the worlds?” 
He scoffed. “I’m no hero, kid.” 
Y/N turned her head to Wade, then back to Logan. “None of us are heroes here,” she said. “Maybe that’s why we are meant to save everyone’s asses,” she shrugged. 
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “How come you are not a hero? You are the sweetest thing in this world. You are the definition of heroism and kindness,” he said. 
She made a face. “Come with us and we’ll talk about it all.” 
And he did. 
. . . 
Logan and Y/N sat behind an old-fashioned plastic table. He still wore his clothes while Y/N changed from her tactical suit to jeans and a simple shirt. The silence between them was awkward. The tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes scanned her from head to anywhere they were able to reach. 
There was a stack of documents and papers by her side. She grabbed them to show them to prove she was not lying. 
The door opened and Wade stepped in, out of his red suit. Logan gasped, horrified when he saw the man’s face. “What the fuck? Holy shit, that is fucking horrible. As if you were ran down by a Zamboni,” he yelled. 
“It’s disgusting, right?” Y/N nodded. But a second later a grin was on her face. 
“Ha, ha,” Wade pretended to laugh. “Can’t believe you two are laughing at a poor disabled man who happened to have his face fucked to safe his shitty life.” 
“That was your decision,” Y/N reminded him. 
Logan pretended to hurl. Y/N chuckled. “It’s hard to look at him.” 
Y/N smiled at her friend. “Could you leave us alone?” she asked. “I need to talk to him alone and, well, it takes time to get used to your face.” 
Wade pointed a finger at her. “One day, I will cut your tongue out,” he threatened. He was already on his way out. “Oh,” he threw her a little device. “If you want to show him something spicy,” he winked at her. 
Once the door shut behind him, Y/N exhaled the breath she was holding. “Now that he’s out of the picture,” she waved with a hand.
“Just start singing,” said Logan, annoyed. 
“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, but I am not your Y/N. I’m from a different timeline,” she started. 
“How are you, not my Y/N? You sound the same, you look the same. You have the same mutation,” he said. “And a different timeline? What kind of bullshit is that?” 
She shrugged. “Hey, I found out about all of this today, okay?” she then glared at him. “I, myself, have trouble taking it in. It’s crazy, it’s fucked up on so many levels. It’s not easy for me too, you know?” 
Logan huffed. “Continue.”
“This is going to sound crazy, so prepare yourself.” She took a deep breath. “I was told, and showed, that somehow, we are meant to be together in almost every timeline.”
“What?” 
Y/N made a face. “It sounds like a fucking fairytale.” Her hands grabbed the first folder, looking at its name. When she opened it, there was a photo of both of them. They looked the same. Y/N pushed her chair closer to him and showed Logan the details in the document. “In this timeline, we are both normal people. We live together in the Canadian mountains.” 
Logan took the folder and read the document. His eyes went over the photo. He shook his head. “Holy shit,” was the only thing he said. 
Y/N reached for another folder. When she opened it, she chuckled. “Here, you are a notorious mob boss,” she showed him. In the picture, he had an eyepatch over his left eye. “We live in Madripoor. People know you there as Patch.” 
“What about my version in your world?” he asked.
She sighed. “There is none. I said we are meant to be together in almost every universe. In mine, you don’t exist.” She turned to the documents and took out the one from her timeline.
Logan snatched it from her, reading through the words. “You are a mercenary?” he asked. 
“Uh, yeah,” she nodded. “Wade and I have a business together. He’s the only family I have. Well, Wade and his fianceé Vanessa. In the past, the Avengers approached with the offer to be in their team. I declined. That’s not who I am.” 
“Is there a world, uh, timeline where you don’t exist?” he asked.
“They told me there used to be one, but that timeline was destroyed a long time ago,” she explained. “Don’t ask me how that happened, because I don’t have an answer for that. You should ask Agent Smith that.” 
“Why do you keep calling him that?” 
“He looks like a character from a movie,” she explained. Her hand reached for another folder. When she opened it, she laughed. “In this world, you and are enemies that secretly love each other.” 
Logan’s brow raised. He read the details of their relationship. “You are on Magneto’s side?” he gasped. “I mean, she is… This is so confusing.” 
“Uh,” she hesitated for a moment. “When did you lose me? Or the version of me. You know what I mean.” 
“Haven’t you read that?” he asked. 
“Nope,” she shook he head. “I’ve got through a couple of those folders. I was only told that we were going to your timeline and that I was dead. Plus to get you out of there and convince you to help us.” 
Logan nodded. “You died…” It was hard to talk about it. “It happened a few years ago during a war that the mutants were in,” he said. “You died in my arms,” he cleared his throat. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. 
“I live with that pain every day,” he continued. “And now, it is fucking harder than ever before, because here you are, sitting in front of me, but you are not… her.” 
At that point, she realised how difficult this experience was for him. Logan seemed like a tough guy. The pain that reflected in his eyes, how he avoided meeting her eyes more and more. 
“Everyone I knew is dead,” said Logan after a pause. “No one lives in my world that I care about.” 
Y/N bit her lower lip. “Logan,” she said his name softly. “We pulled you out of your timeline because it will be destroyed soon.” 
His eyes widened. “Wait, what? What’s going to happen to me?” 
“The TVA will present you with options. But if we save the multiverse, we will be rewarded. Or that’s what they told me,” she said. 
“It doesn’t matter. No one in my world is alive.” He stood up from the chair. “Let’s do this shit. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.” 
Y/N put a small smile on her face. She wanted to show him more, tell him what they told her, what she thought of it. “Yeah, let’s do this.” 
965 notes · View notes
watchyourbuck · 3 months
Text
The thing about Tommy is that he’s very pretty. Everything about him is intoxicatingly attractive, and no matter where they go, people follow. Men, particularly.
Buck isn’t necessarily the jealous type. He’s had his fair share of protecting ex girlfriends from creeps and dudes who won’t back off, but this is different. This feels like a constant, extremely symptomatic migraine.
Of course girls throw themselves at him, but the mere fact that they have no chance makes it less angering. It’s the studs, and the twinks, and the huge men who put their hands on his man. That cup his ass almost as a greeting gesture. That play with his hair, and whisper in his ear.
And Tommy isn’t stupid. He knows he’s being flirted with, but since he could never have eyes for anyone who isn’t Buck, he doesn’t see the need to be rude. So he keeps it at ‘No, thank you’’s, and polite, refusing smiles. And yes, that’s yet another one of the qualities Buck loves about him. Because he doesn’t like violence. But then again, it fires up the unwavering possessiveness brewing in the pit of his stomach.
So Buck’s gotten creative. Now that they’re officially a couple, and go out on dates every weekend — to different places, if he might add —, he’s had to get handy with the way he lets people know Tommy’s his.
He orders with him at the bar, makes sure to say ‘my boyfriend’ and strategically places his hands on parts of Tommy’s body that would get him punched if they weren’t together. It works, for the most part.
But there’s always that one guy who can’t take a hint.
“You’re like a Greek god,” he whispers and Buck rolls his eyes. “Greek gods shouldn’t be alone.”
It’s a twenty-something year old dude that looks like he’s missing a college class. He’s wearing a tank top and eyeliner and he’s about a second away from earning himself all of Buck’s un-contained rage.
“I’m not alone,” Tommy says, pointing at him, and god bless his heart. “This is my partner.”
Buck bends forward a bit to wave enthusiastically, but it comes out bitchy. He’s almost sorry but then the guy barely acknowledges him, putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and rubbing circles on the exposed skin. Tommy’s hand tightens on his hip, keeping him still.
“You know, I’m very flexible,” the guy says and Buck is currently making a deal with god to grant him patience. “I could show you just how much.”
“Oh, you’re not showing him anything,” Buck barks, right from over Tommy’s head. If he has to get on his tippy toes to do that, well, the other guy doesn’t have to know.
“Evan,” Tommy warns, but it’s endearing, it carries no threat. He turns his head to the kid and tilts it. “You should find a guy who’s interested. I’m not.”
Buck absolutely preens, a cocky smirk settling on his face. He’s about to claim victory when he notices the guy’s demeanor doesn’t change, and he actually steps closer. “That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing, daddy.”
Nope. A surge of something primal and almost maniac courses through his body, and before Tommy can do anything about it, Buck’s rounding him and taking the guy’s wrist and squeezing it. He’s shorter than Tommy but significantly bigger than this kid, so he towers over him easily. “Take your hands off him if you want to keep them.”
The kid’s face contorts in fear. “What’s your problem, dude!”
Buck laughs, his only point of connection to reality being Tommy’s hand on his belt loops, holding him in place. “My problem,” he says, his voice deeper, “is that you can’t seem to take no for an answer. He’s told you he’s not alone. So, back off before I make you.”
His eyes shift from Buck’s to Tommy’s, who Buck can only guess has a soft but unreadable expression on his face. When the kid isn’t defended by Tommy, he snags his hand back, scoffs and takes off.
Buck watches him until he loses him to the crowd, then lets out a big breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns to Tommy, expecting to find judgy or at least annoyed eyes. He doesn’t.
“Not that I wanna encourage you,” Tommy says, sitting on a stool to pull Buck closer, right between his legs. “But that was really hot.”
Buck huffs out a laugh but it’s vaguely one. “I’m just— he wouldn’t stop touching you. You’re, ugh, you’re—!”
Tommy tilts his head, chasing after Buck’s gaze when he looks to the side. “You can say it.”
Buck bites his lip and stares. How could he not, after all. “You’re mine,” de declares, definitive and on the verge of angry. “And I don’t like men touching what’s mine.”
And he knows. There’s a fine line between sexy possessive and psychopathically controlling, and he’s walking it like a rope between two buildings, but the look on Tommy’s face and the unmistakable sight of the front of his pants growing tighter doesn’t help him get off the high horse. “We can always make a scene,” Tommy shrugs, getting up again and cornering Buck against the bar.
Buck’s eyes darken, even through the pain on his tailbone. His arms surge forward to wrap around Tommy’s neck and bring him down. And if they do make a scene, if they do make out messily and desperately for everyone to see, then it’s truly not his problem what they think. As long as they know who Tommy belongs to.
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ham1lton · 2 months
Note
this is the dumbest thing i’ve ever requested LMAO but……can i request a reader with chronic migraines and lewis who knows that if he makes her come it’ll go away 😩 he eats her out (REAL EATER!) and her migraine does go away and he’s like u feel better? 😁 and she’s begrudgingly like ….yes 😔
author’s note: oh god. this got away from me. hope u enjoy!! and migraines suck ass 😔💔 the relationship between lewis + reader are really blurred here. is he ur fuck buddy? is ur bf? ur fiancé? ur husband? u decide 🫡 also this hasn’t been edited and i wrote it in 10 minutes.
────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────
when lewis finds you, you’re lying on the couch with the lights off. it’s eerily silent and he knows you’re having another migraine. he slips in, and gently lifts your legs so he can sit underneath them. he rubs a thumb against your ankle. you look up at him and grin.
“you’re back.”
“wouldn’t leave you for too long,” he hums. “are you okay? need me to get anything for you?”
“a magical cure for migraines?” you huff as press the palms of your hands into your eyes. “i’m so fucking tired with dealing with them. i want them gone.”
“i know sweetheart,” he rubs his hand over your exposed legs. you decided to wear shorts this morning, it was way too hot to wear anything else. you debated just walking around in your underwear but you were terrified your neighbour would see. you loved the smiths but you’d give the old couple a heart attack if they saw you like that. hence the shorts. “i do know of one thing that might help.”
“and what could that possibly be? i’ve tried everything.”
“well, y’know i was getting my hair braided and i was looking through the magazines my braider has available. did you know that orgasms help with migraines?”
“what fucking magazine are you reading?”
“ones about fucking apparently.”
“don’t make me laugh,” you giggle despite yourself. “it hurts.”
“it hurts me to see you in pain.” he frowns. “let me get you off.”
“i’m not in the mood to have sex. i just want to rot here. i won’t be much fun.”
“i don’t need to get off. this is just about you. i want to help you baby. please.”
for a moment, you think about it. it does sound tempting and you can’t say no when he sounds like that. you smile.
“go ahead.” you laugh. “give me head.”
“you think you’re so funny.” lewis gives you the side eye as he starts to let his hands wander.
“absolutely.” you wink.
lewis was very skilled with his hands. well, his job does partially relies on them. gorgeous, and so warm. when he touches you it’s like he leaves your body on fire. he leaned over to kiss your hipbone. positioning himself so that he’s more comfortable. after a moment of teasing, he pulls your shorts and panties down. he huffs a breath against you.
“she still loves me.” he says as he gathers some of your wetness on his fingers. he spreads your legs wider so that they can sit on his shoulders. you reach a hand to stop him.
“you okay yn?” he looks concerned, so you smile to soothe him.
“it’s not that i want you to stop or anything. i just, can you take your shirt off?” you ask sweetly. he rolls his eyes but obliges, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere. “that’s better.”
he gets back to work quickly. pressing a thumb against your already swollen clit. he smiles before he starts to eat you out. allowing you to hump yourself against his face as he stretches you out with one finger, which turns to two and then three.
you didn’t expect to be so desperate for it. is it because you haven’t seen in him in a while? is it because you’re desperate for any relief? but after a while, you’re practically sobbing for it. for him, for your release, for something. you pull him closer to you, pressing him further in between your thighs. he obliges, and moves his tongue and fingers in tandem with each other.
you feel your release coming soon and you know he knows by the way he doesn’t let up. you’re practically gushing at this point. you’re sucking up his fingers when he makes eye contact. you’re burning up on his couch and he fucking winks at you. when you reach your peak, he fingerfucks you through the aftershocks, kissing your thighs.
“you okay?” he asks politely.
“i know you’re begging to ask it. go on.” you say breathlessly.
“did it work?” he asks excitedly as he cleans you up. “the article said it works better than painkillers. i took a photo.”
“it did work. i feel better. thank you.” you lean over to give him a kiss. you look down at him. “do you need me to get you off?”
“no, no baby. this was all about you. don’t worry about me.” he kisses your ankle and switches on the television on a very low brightness. “should we catch up on that show you like?”
────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────
958 notes · View notes
igotanidea · 3 months
Text
The great birthday mess up : Damian Wayne x Reader
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Request: Yes! Reader planning a surprise party for Dami and him thining she's going to break up with him so he does it first.
Thank you anon! ;) made some changes to the requests hope you'll like it either way :)
***
„I don’t understand…” the words coming out of Damian’s mouth was the perfect example that hearing and getting were two completely different things.
“What’s there to not understand Y/N?. I’m breaking up with you. Sounds pretty simple even for your little brain.” He shrugged and turned to the window in their shared apartment so she wouldn’t see the strain on his face and clenched fists.
“But-“
“Please don’t go all whiny on me now. Just take my decision with dignity.
“I don’t understand—” she said again, as if that was the only sentence she could say in shock coursing in every cell in her body.
“Of course you don’t.” the tone he was giving her was ruthless, unlike the rapid beat of his heart calling her name with all the emotional power it could gather.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” as pathetic as it was, she almost downgraded herself to begging for an explanation with that sentence
“I’m just breaking up with you! Now will you leave me alone? I really do not want to see your face anymore.”
Well that was true, cause seeing her sad face was making his resolve crumble.
And It hurt. It hurt to tell her all those mean things.
Especially because Damian did not even wantto act like an asshole.
He did love her like a fool, he used to laugh at. If anything, he could just fall at her feet (as long as no one  saw) and beg to forgive him.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t because she was the one who stopped loving him first.
***
Three weeks ago, “command center” at Wayne Manor.
“Ok, people, listen up! We’re on a mission of-“
“Is she for real?” Tim whispered turning to Dick who was holding back a laugh. If the boys knew that Y/N would take planning Damian’s 24th birthday in such a serious manner, almost putting on a war paint, one of them would bring a fancy camera to memorize it.
Instead it was only Jason taking photo after photo of the girl-in-command in her makeshift uniform and with indicator in hand.
“Get it off my face Todd!” she cried out trying to shove him off, but failing at dealing with the brick Jason was.
“Not a chance. You look ridiculous. And all that for the demon’s spawn? My god! He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Careful or I’ll think you’re telling me a compliment.”
“Compliment? No, no. It’s merely an observation of your poor choice in men. Both your boyfriend and those gathered here…”
“HEY!” Dick reacted almost immediately. No way he was going to let anyone, even his adoptive brother shit-talk him “I beg your pardon! I believe Y/N has an exquisite taste in men!”
“Just because you are here?” Jason mocked, giving Dick a smirk.
“Oh-my-god….” Y/N rolled her eyes throwing hands in the air “Could you please stop that…? I got a whole presentation about ideas for the party and –”
“A presentation?” While Dick and Jason did not give the girl any attention, at the mention of possible slides Tim became awfully animated. “What kind of slides? How many?”
“Oh-my-god…” She muttered again, this time covering face with hands gathering herself “God give me patience for those man-children.” One deep inhale and exhale on her part and she was ready to proceed. “SHUT UP!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs “SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!”
None of the men has ever seen her like that. Reddened on the face with fury in eyes and clenched fists. Clearly just a thought of Damian was making her spin out of control.
“Y/N--?”
“I’m about to tell you how it’s going to go from now on.” She hissed with an unobjectionable tone. “First, you’re going to sit on your pretty asses.” her gaze travelled to Dick knowing the attention in this particular moment will make him listen “Second, you’re going to stop throwing veiled insults.”
“But-“ Jason tried to chime in and object.
“I don’t fucking care if your inner Chandler Bing is coming to voice, you shut it or I will.”
“I’m not scared of you Y/N. You are just a –”
In a blink of an eye she was next to him, with one finger on his neck.
“You got about 100 vascular plexus in your body and so it happens I know how to put pressure on all of them.” She hissed before pulling back and taking on an innocent look “now, will you keep quiet, Jason?”
“I’m still not scared…” he muttered leaning on the doorframe with a frown and pout of a kicked puppy.
“Thank you very much. As for the plan, thirdly, you’ll stop asking me about my PowerPoint thing and actually watch it.”
“I’ve been dying to watch it the whole time!”
“ Shut up Tim!” came from three pair of mouths.
“Hey! Why am I being the only one yelled at by everyone? It’s harassment! Not fair!”
Y/N exhaled deeply, making a mental note to herself to never get those boys in men bodies in one room ever again and started explaining the details of her surprise party. Clearly, even despite knowing Damian’s family for a while she did not expect it would be this hard to get boys to cooperate.
However, per aspera ad astra, she managed to present her idea of a gift, the attractions and all the surprise party.
Obliging the boys under the  pain of sudden and unexpected death, or at least mutilation, to keep their mouths shut.  And since she was the girlfriend of a teenage assassin – this time no one dared to say a word.
***
Obviously the surprise party included working on it undercover. Therefore Y/N was spending more time with Jason, Dick and Tim to the detriment of her hours with Damian. Sneaking around. Dismissing or getting off lightly of answering his questions.
And he got suspicious, it was Damian Wayne Al-Ghul after all.
The young boy, spend hours and days fighting his natural urge to follow her when she was walking out the apartment with no explanation. Tie her to the chair, light the lamp in her face and force the information out of her.
But she was his girlfriend, not a villain.
So, getting too much into his head he came out to one plausible explanation – she was slowly letting him down. Not cutting the tie right away, because that was not who she was, but discouraging him.
“You’re going out again?” he asked, capably hiding the disappointment seeing her putting on shoes and jacket.  Quickly he put the bouquet of flowers he bought for her behind his back, almost crushing the innocent buds, while simultaneously wondering if calling off reservation at her fav restaurant for the fourth time this month would get him kicked out of the VIP list. “I thought we could have a night out and—“
“Sorry, babe.” She smiled apologetically pecking his lips, grabbing the bag and already one foot out the door. “I gotta go do this thing that I told you about!”
“What thing---”
“Don’t wait for me, I’ll be back late. See you around buddy!”
Buddy?!
Did she just--? Holy fucking shit. Now Damian was sure, she stopped loving him.
And since he couldn’t watch her walk out his life like that, it was him, who was going to walk out of hers.
***
She run.
She run as fast as she could, hoping that if by some miracle she got into Flash’s speed the last fifteen minutes conversation with Damian would just turn out to be a dream. Or maybe she’ll find herself back in time, making sure it never happened in the first place.
What did she ever do to him to be treated like that?
Working her ass off to prepare a party? Using all her abilities to get people to help? Miraculously finding Damian’s friends from the past and even getting Jon to attend?
Fuck this shit! Fuck the life!
And out of all day’s in year he choose his own birthday to break up with her!
Fucking piece of shit, demon’s spawn, undeserving of a single second of the last 6 years she gave him.
Jason was fucking right as tragic as it sounded.
She burst into the Wayne Manor, where the boys were hanging the last decorations and immediately started ripping the garlands off and throwing tableware off the table.
“Y/N!!” Dick jumped off the ladder and rushed her direction, but it was Jason who reached her first. Almost tackling her to the floor, fighting against the rage of nails, teeth and screams coming out of her mouth.
“Stop it!”
“LET FUCKING GO OFF ME! THIS PARTY AIN;T HAPPENING UNLESS IT’S OVER MY DEAD BODY!”
“Better be careful with those words, cause in this family you get more than one chance at life.” Jason chuckled
“LET FUCKING GO!” she was struggling against his iron grip while Dick and Tim kneeled next to them
“No.” Jason responded calmly. “No, I’m not letting go off you.”
“None of us do, Y/N.” Tim added, moving a little bit closer, careful to not get a shoe in his face or something like that.
“What happened?” Dick asked calmly “come on, it can’t be that bad…”
“He broke up with me…” she sobbed. Not angry or furious anymore, but fully immersing in sadness. “Damian broke up with me…”
“HE WHAT?!” Dick yelled almost ready to start ripping off the decorations himself, successfully held back by Tim slapping him in the back of his head.
“She just told you. Can’t you see how shaken she is. And your making her say it again just for the sake of it? Get yourself together, Dick.”
“Sorry…”
“I don’t know what happened! I tried to talk and—”
“Talking to Damian about feelings, huh! Great idea Y/N.”
“GRAYSON!” Tim yelled slapping him again.
 “Sorry…”
“I hate to break it to you guys, but it seems like the man of the day has just arrived.” Tim moved to the window where he saw the reflection of the car lights.
“WHAT!?”
“Don’t yell at me! Bruce brought him! It was your plan Y/N!!”
“Oh so one time Bruce could be late he’s actually on time?!”
“Again-stop yelling at me!”
“He cannot see me here! Not like this! Not crying cause he’s going to think that I –“
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAMIAN!
“—care….”
The ending of the sentence was not supposed to escape her mouth, but not caring about her intentions it did. Maybe it was the shock of Bruce entering Wayne Manor with his youngest son, almost convinced the surprise party was already prepared and they could celebrate.
Instead the two were met with four people, caught like deer in the headlights, crying y/n, Jason on the floor holding her for comfort, enraged Dick and a little scared Tim without a plan.
As far away from their usual selves as possible.
“Are we too early or—” Bruce started, but before he could finish the sentence, the nearby ladder started to totter, hooking over the poorly hanged b-day banner and –
“NO!!” Dick yelled and rushed towards it, but tripping over Jason’s leg, fighting desperately to gain back balance and stepping on Y/N’s hand in the process. She yelled and it scared Tim who took a step back, crashing into Dick. Seeing all that Jason rushed to his feet trying to catch the material that was already falling down, dangerously close to the table and the candlestick. In the commotion no one noticed Alfred the cat, who obliviously entered the room, only to almost be flattened.
As the poor animal rushed to Y/N’s side, making her reach arms to give cat some resemblance of shelter, Dick finally managed to grab the banner.
“I got it! YES! Once more I am the one to save the day and--- AH!” he slipped on the floor cause clearly Alfred the cat left a remnants of his fear there, sliding all the way up to the table.
“NO!” Y/N yelled trying to save any of the dish that was already flying to her face.
“NO!” Jason cried out trying to snatch the decoration, getting tangled in it.
“NO!” Tim shrieked as the candled set the tablecloth on fire, that quickly spread to the leg of his trousers. And as the stimuli activated already downloaded plan in his brain, he reached for the extinguisher, profusely spraying everything (and everyone) with white powder.
Disaster.
Y/N, Dick, Jason and Tim were now all on the floor. Dirty, injured and/or humiliated, turned into giant, living, walking snowmen all on Bruce and Damian’s eyes.
“Not again….” Bruce whined.
“Happy birthday Damian!”
“SHUT UP GRAYSON!” the rest of three organizers yelled getting off the floor feeling worse than ever.
“What is all this?” Damian asked with a slight frown. “Or rather… what was all of this.”
“This is your—” Dick started
“AHHHHH!”
“Y/N, we know you are frustrated but please try to calm down—”
“This was supposed to be your stupid birthday party you idiot!” she yelled stumping towards Damian “Hear me?” he poke a finger into his chest. “Your. Stupid. Birthday. Party.”
“My- my what?” Damian stuttered grabbing her wrist only now realizing what day it was. Honestly after the morning break up with Y/N he couldn’t care less about the clock or calendar.
“Your—”
“Wait, wait. Hold back. Is this why you were acting so suspicious?”
“sus-suspicious? Is that what you thought?” her eyes grew wide once more and the steam to hit him blew off instantly
“You were just planning and preparing a party?” Damian asked realizing how much of an idiot he was.
“Yes”!
“So you didn’t stop loving me?” the hint of hope showed up in his eyes
“So you did not stop loving me?” Y/N repeated.
“How could I ever—”
She never gave him a chance to finish that sentence pressing her lips to his, not caring who was watching. And if anyone dared to tease, Damian’s katana would be used for something. And the knowledge of locations of nerve plexuses in the human body.
“Um….” Tim muttered feeling a little awkward in the situation. “Should we--?”
“Mhm. We should.” Dick agreed and noiselessly, like silently as befits a vigilante they fled the room.
***
Meanwhile, Damian and Y/n were sitting on the window sill amongst the mess of a b-day party.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way I planned—” she sighed.
“You kidding? It was the best thing ever.”
“Because you got the gift in clearing the misunderstanding between us?” she smiled and interlaced their fingers.
“no! because of watching my brothers making fools out of themselves.”
“Damian!” she patted his head.
“OUCH! Ok, fine! Fine! It was because I got you back!”
“This was forced, such confession doesn’t count!” she feigned offence.
“Well technically, we never really broke up, so I couldn’t get you back.”
“Well, technically-“ she tried to find a smart way of the situation, but he cut her off.
“Well, non-technically, you got cake in your hair. And on your face And in your lips. And I haven’t even tried that treat. So how about we stop talking so I could get a chance at it?”
He liked the cake.
A lot.
@keidylovestacos @nocturnal-onlooker - I'm taking the liberty of tagging you guys :)
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hyunsvngs · 1 year
Text
kinktober !
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kink: period sex
pairing: lee minho x fem!reader
wc: 2.6k
period sex: sexual activity that happens while at least one partner is menstruating or on their period.
It was the worst form of torture. Every month, your period would leave you feeling the horniest you’d ever felt, and it was even worse when you had a sex god boyfriend who would walk around looking so tasty. In all honesty, he could walk around wearing anything and it’d still have you wanting to shove your hand down your panties and get yourself off. But you couldn’t. Not while he was there, being so lovely and caring for you through the most horrible cramps you’d ever felt in your life.
“How are you feeling now, baby?” Minho murmured. You’d been laying practically on top of him, a cat shaped hot water bottle trapped between your stomachs as you half-watched the movie that was on. You’d been too horny to even pay attention to it, and you weren’t even sure what the fucking thing was called. Minho had been watching, though. He was a stranger to your internal suffering. 
“I’m comfy, thanks, Min,” You replied, kissing his cheek. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears still burned red, even after so long. He was so cute, but you wanted his dick. Time to change the subject. “I hate cramps. They’re awful, y’know? They say dark chocolate helps.”
“Want me to get you some? I can drive to the shop,” Minho asked, his hand rubbing circles on the small of your back. You hummed, shaking your head.
“I don’t even like dark chocolate, it was just something stupid I saw years ago,” You said, and Minho chuckled, shaking his head fondly. Then, he turned to you, his eyes soft as he looked you up and down. He always looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen - even when you were suffering an intense period-caused acne breakout and wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of fluffy pyjama bottoms. 
“I heard something similar,” He began, biting his lip. “I heard orgasms help. Have you tried getting yourself off, baby?”
Oh, he was too sweet. Always looking for solutions to make you feel better. “Well… Min, I can’t exactly get myself off while you’re here. That’d be weird.”
“I’d love every second of it,” He was serious, but you still giggled, poking his cheek playfully. “Baby, in all seriousness, if you want me to fuck you, I will. A bit of blood will not bother me.”
You blinked, leaning up. “You’d really do that?”
Minho chuckled, kissing you chastely. “It’s blood, baby. It’s really not a big deal. I’ll lay a towel down.”
You stared at him for a moment, and he stared back, raising an eyebrow in questioning. Then, you yanked the fluffy cat hot water bottle out from between you and kissed him. He just deserved a kiss for that, but he still let out a little ‘mmph’ in shock at your boldness. “Minho,” You mumbled against his lips, and he hummed in response. “I’m so fucking horny, you don’t even understand. Every fucking period, you walk around looking so hot, and I could’ve just asked this whole time?”
“Baby, I look like this all month,” He chuckled, kissing you again. “Honestly though, yeah. You could’ve just asked, dummy.”
“Oh my God,” You sighed, curling into him more to kiss his neck. He let you mouth your way down his soft skin, and you sucked a mark into his collarbone where you knew it wouldn’t be seen. He scoffed out a laugh, his hand moving to rub over your ass instead. “Oh my God, Minho, get a fucking towel.”
He was still laughing when he stood up, shaking his head as he grabbed an old towel from his wardrobe. You belatedly realised that oh, he’d see the blood, and you were starting to feel a little less confident. When you hadn’t moved from the bed to let him lay the towel down, he tilted his head at you in confusion. 
“You can’t look, okay?” You gushed, jumping up from the mattress. Minho bit his lip, hiding a laugh. You pouted, stomping your feet in a mild tantrum. “I’m going to pull my pants down, and you have to close your eyes, because there will be blood on my pad. Okay?”
“Baby,” Minho shut his eyes, shaking his head. When he opened them again, you could see the amusement in them, and it made you pout even harder. “I’d be shocked if there wasn’t blood on your pad, y’know? Given that you’re on your period.”
“Well, yeah, but still-”
“Come here,” He commanded. You couldn’t deny that tone of voice, even if you were mid-tantrum and shy. You walked over to him, and he tossed the towel onto the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist. You let him kiss down your neck like he’d done to you, biting at the skin and humming when you let out a choked noise. “I think you’re so fucking sexy, you know that?”
“You’re sexy,” You protested, and he shook his head against your skin. He pulled away from your neck, using two fingers to get you to look into his eyes. You were practically melting. 
“I’m gonna get you naked the way I always do,” He said, and his tone was firm. You wanted to protest, to make a big deal, but he shook his head before you could even speak. “I’m going to get you naked the way I always do. I’m gonna take my time worshipping those tits, and then I’m going to fuck you and get you to cream nice and wet on my cock. I do not care about blood. Okay?”
You blinked. You couldn’t even argue with that, really. “Okay.”
“God, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” He murmured, his eyes dark and staring directly into yours. “Letting me fuck you like this. What a good fucking girl, huh?”
“I need you so bad,” You whimpered, and Minho chuckled. You gasped when he wrapped his hand around your throat, a light pressure but there nonetheless, and then he was kissing you. It was different to his soft, loving kisses on the bed, his tongue demanding dominance inside your mouth and making you whine. You couldn’t protest when he ran his hands up your back underneath your shirt, and you definitely couldn’t protest when his hands gripped your ass firmly. He was such a fucking wet dream.
You watched in awe as he yanked his shirt off from behind his neck, revealing planes of milky skin and toned biceps. You didn’t even hide your gaze, your eyes running over him in delight as you felt the arousal pool in your stomach. He pushed you back against the bed, somehow landing you directly on top of the towel as he made quick work of your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra for comfort purposes, and he made a sound akin to a growl as he saw your tits, nipples pebbled against the cold chill of the room. 
“Baby, these tits,” He moaned, grabbing them both with his hands. “They’re fuller, huh?”
“It’s the period,” You gasped, letting him tweak your nipples with his fingers almost painfully. He knew how you liked it. “You like them?”
“I like them every fucking day,” He responded quickly, wrapping his lips around one of the buds and sucking. You let out a choked noise, feeling the sensitivity of them from your current state. Minho perked up, grinning. “Are they sensitive?”
“I think every part of me is fucking sensitive, God, please fuck me,” You gushed, spreading your legs and letting him get between them. Minho chuckled, letting his tongue run over your nipple again. 
His fingers went to the waistband of your fluffy rabbit pyjama bottoms, playing with the fabric. He raised an eyebrow at you, and his facial expression was soft, fond. “Can I take these off, baby?”
You bit your lip. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure I want to fuck you all the time, so yes,” He said, grinning. You held your breath as he pulled your pants down, taking your underwear with them and tossing them to the floor. He hadn’t looked, and you knew he did it to make you feel comfortable. You loved him so much it made your heart swell. His eyes dragged down your body, his hand stroking softly over your tummy and eyes landing on your pussy. Oh, God. “Fucking beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”
“Can you get naked now?” You shifted impatiently. Minho smiled, nodding, and then he was pulling his own bottoms down. You were more than delighted to see he’d foregone underwear, cock springing out and looking solid. You leaned forward instantly, letting your lips brush his as you wrapped your hand round the base of his cock, the trimmed hairs tickling your skin. “This fucking cock. It’s so amazing.”
“He likes you too,” Minho mumbled against your lips, kissing them chastely. “You gonna jerk me off a bit, baby?”
You sighed. “I wanna suck it, to be honest.”
Minho shook his head, letting his hand fall to yours and moving it on his shaft. “I will cum instantly if you suck me off right now,” He admitted, leaning down to run his tongue over your nipple again. You jolted, moaning and starting to pump his cock steadily. You tightened your hand a little bit more at the tip, just the way he likes it, and his cock leaked just a bit of precum in approval. “Something about this, baby. The way you trust me so much. I think I could die.”
You giggled, moving your hands to pull him in at his waist. “I think I’ll die if you don’t fuck me. I need to cum on your cock so bad.”
“Yeah?” Minho asked, but the look on his face told you he was very aware. He positioned his cock at your pussy, letting the tip run through your folds teasingly. “I think I’ll fuck you then.”
“God, do you want me to beg?” You huffed, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’m not above begging.”
“I know, I have you begging for it every night,” He mused, and then he was pushing inside. The stretch startled you, and you moaned loudly, making Minho chuckle. He bottomed out easily, the slide wet and your pussy more than pliant for him. You were sure your pussy was moulded to the shape of his cock at that point. “How do you want it? Tell me, baby.”
“I- oh, deep, hard?” You said, voice lilted as if it was a question. “Give it to me the way I like it, you know.”
“Yeah?” Minho asked, starting to thrust into you steadily. You moaned, clenching tight on his cock. You were so sensitive, unabashed moans and whines falling from parted lips and echoing around Minho’s room. “You want me to call you my slut, so desperate for my cock? You want me to fuck you senseless?”
“Oh, oh-” You keened, and Minho laughed, kissing your neck. His cock was solid, hard inside of you, and the way he was thrusting into you was such a smooth, slick slide that it had you wanting to cum instantly. 
“Yeah, you are my slut, aren’t you?” He murmured against your skin, and when he pulled away to look at you, you were left breathless. His hair was dark, flopping over his forehead but not obscuring his beautiful features, his pouty lips parted and exposing his cute bunny teeth. They pressed at his bottom lip as he fucked into you, and when you looked into his dark, feline eyes, all you could see was love. You couldn’t help but moan, nodding. You let your fingers grip onto his biceps for stability. “I know, I know, baby. Let me take care of you.”
You gasped as he pushed his thumb into your mouth, and you were quick to suck on it dutifully, running your tongue over his digit. He pressed it in deep, swirling it around your tongue and staring at you with half-lidded eyes. You startled when he reached down, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Min, the blood-”
“Ssh,” He urged you, shaking his head. He pushed one leg back with his other hand, letting it fall over his shoulder and fucking you deeper with his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bud. “I know how to make this pussy cum, don’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah, you do,” You agreed, nodding. His chest pushed your thigh into your tits, leaning over you to kiss you once, filthily and deep. His thumb didn’t let up and neither did his thrusts, his cock bullying into your hole over and over and making you whine. “Jesus, Minho, your cock is fucking amazing.”
“It’s all yours, baby,” Minho’s voice was strained, hips stuttering against you. “Baby, you’re so wet, I don’t know if I can hold out.”
“Min, please,” You begged, eyes bleary. “I’m- I need to cum, Minho.”
“Fuck, fuck, yeah, I know,” He gasped, eyes rolling back into his head. It was a rare sight seeing Minho pussydrunk - he normally held out for a lot longer than you did, but clearly the added wetness on his cock was a little bit too much for him. “Feel me, baby. Focus on my cock. It’s so fucking hard for you, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You gasped, bucking your hips into his thrusts. He pinched your clit meanly, smirking when it made you squeal. Your chest heaved, a sheen of sweat forming on your skin. 
“Gorgeous fucking girl. Your little pussy always needs me, kitty,” He moaned, grunting into your neck with every thrust. You were getting close, his ministrations too much to handle when combined with his filthy words. “Fuckin’ slut. My slut, yeah? Always needing me, needing my fucking cock inside of you.”
You whined, nodding. You’d started to bounce on his cock now, letting him pinch and rub your clit to send you into oblivion. “Always need it, oh, oh, Min, mean, be mean-”
“Be mean, kitty?” He scoffed. You gasped when he moved his hand from your thigh, and then he was slapping you across the face, a light slap but definitely there nonetheless. Your eyebrows furrowed, lips parting. “Got me pussydrunk, kitty. Fucking minx.”
“‘M gonna cum, Minho,” You warned, your sopping walls fluttering around his cock happily. “I’m gonna fucking cum, you’re gonna make me cum, oh-”
“Yeah?” He moaned, his noises getting higher in pitch. He was getting close. “I’m gonna cum with you. Do you want it? Do you want my cum?”
“Always want your cum, oh, breed me, Min, I’ll soak your cock-”
You let out a loud whine, digging your fingernails into his shoulders almost painfully as you came. You felt your pussy gushing on your boyfriend’s cock, soaking his length and moaning like a fucking pornstar all the way through your orgasm. Minho tensed, his hands grabbing your hips. His hips stopped completely, cock bottomed out inside you as he filled you with his cum. 
He collapsed on you, his weight a welcomed addition. “I’m not g’na pull out yet ‘cause I know you’ll get shy,” He mumbled, kissing your sweaty skin. You giggled, nodding. 
“Do you wanna take a bath?” You asked, running your fingers up his back. 
“I can’t think of anything better, baby,” He sighed. “I said I was going to fuck you senseless but I think you’ve just fucked me.”
“On the upside, my cramps are gone,” You grinned. Minho looked up at you, kissing your nose fondly. 
“Let me know if they’re back,” He said, eyes earnest. “I’ll just have to fuck you again, since you don’t like dark chocolate.”
“Really hate the stuff,” You hummed, nodding. “I like you though.”
Minho giggled, his nose scrunching up cutely. “I like you too, baby.”
3K notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 3 months
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dealing with it- chef luca
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gif from @ wiha-jun
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summary: you see carmen for the first time in years, things happen, but at least your husband is there for you :)
pairings: chef luca x fem! reader, EX carmen berzatto x reader
warnings: smoking, cursing, reader endorses smoking (it makes sense i promise), toxic relationships, fighting, happy ending, luca is a cutie pie, carm is an ass :(
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Carmen had been staring at you the whole night. You, standing diligently beside your mother, and Luca. 
When dinner came and you sat beside Luca again, the question begged to leave his mouth, but he decided on waiting and watching. 
“So Y/n,” Sydney turned to you. “I would love to literally pick your brain apart for the inspo of your last cookbook.”
You chuckled. “Well, Luca and I went all around the world on our honeymoon and-”
“What?” Carmen choked on his drink. “S-sorry did I fucking hear that right? Honeymoon?”
Luca sighed deeply, the energy at the table shifting. “Yes Carm, she said ‘honeymoon’.”
Honeymoon. You and Luca were married. Married and he didn’t even know it. Married, and he hadn’t even known that his last chance had been his last chance. 
You were Chef Andrea’s daughter, and you were everyone’s forbidden fruit. You worked with them, trained with them, and Carmen had been so deeply interested in you, that he broke the rules. He went after you, and he didn’t even feel bad about it. You’d started out dating in secret, then slowly warmed your mom up to the idea, and suddenly it was out in the open. Sure you’d had fights and sure, maybe it wasn’t the most healthy relationship ever, but Carmen loved you. He still did. When it fell apart, it was all Carmen’s fault (as usual) and you’d sworn off chefs. 
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“Fucking hell Bear! I’m asking you to do this one fucking thing for me, and it’s too fucking hard?” You shouted at the top of your lungs. “I love you! I moved to fucking Coppenhagen for you! I moved to fucking New York for you! What is your problem with me taking a job in London?! I can probably get you into the same place-”
“NO! No, I fucking don’t alright? You’re fucking- you’re fucking boring! You never make anything new- you’re so f-fucking obsessed with being the-the-the best at something that you won’t even try to innovate!”
You stood there, in his kitchen and he watched as the tears fell. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding your waist in his hands. He tried not to be offended or upset when you went rigid as he touched you, but he felt his heart break. “Baby I-I’m sorry, look, y’know I’m sorry-” 
“You’re a piece of shit Carm. Just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that. We’re not fucking trainees at my mom’s restaurant anymore, alright? I’m fucking better than you and i know it boils your fucking blood. I got this position. All on my own,” you spat. “You are the lowest of the low Carm. I swear to fucking god, if I ever date another chef again, kill me.”
And with that, you walked out. Out of his apartment and out of his life. 
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“W-wait so-s-, you two got married? Since when?” Carmen laughed, but it was wrong. It was forced and haunted, strange.  
“Since the 14th of July last year,” Luca smiled and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Congratulations guys,” Sydney smiled. “Carm, say congratulations,” she whispered and Carm nodded furiously.
“Yeah! Yeah- congratulations to the liar and her shitty douchebag of a husband!” He cheered, gathering the attention of the other tables. 
“Stop making a fucking scene Carm,” your voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “This isn’t about you. This is about my mom, and what this restaurant meant to people. Stop. Being. An. Asshole.”
He felt like he’d been effectively bitch slapped, and he quietened down, but not before kicking Luca under the table. 
They’d both been after you, back in the day. And you’d picked Carm at first, and realised your mistake. When you met Luca in London, you weren’t going to mess it up again. 3 years later, you were a year married, and a lot happier. Too bad Carmen had to make everything about himself, again.
He went out to get some ‘air’ a little while later, and you followed him. 
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“So…” you sighed, standing beside him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he sighed. He watched as you took a cigarette out and lit it, then offered one to him. He shook his head. 
“You quit?” You asked, blowing the smoke away from him. He nodded. “You should start again.”
He looked at you in confusion. “What?”
“You shouldn’t stop, you’re fucking crazy when you don’t smoke,” you chuckled, though everything you said was true. He’d tried to give it up for a month about 4 months into your relationship and it was the most stressful month of your life. You sighed as you thought about it. Every time he was rude to someone, you apologised for him. Every time he fucked something up, you made it up for him. Every time he did something stupid, you made it smart somehow. It was fucked up how much he relied on you, when you thought about it in hindsight. “Everyone will thank you.”
He laughed. “I guess that was a shitty month, huh?”
“One of the worst of my life,” you admitted. 
There was a moment of silence. 
“I miss it,” He admitted. 
“Smoking? You can have the rest of this pack-”
“Us.”
You sighed. “You were doing so well,” you joked. “Just don’t bring it up Carm, we don’t need to dig up the past.”
“I want to,” he pleaded. 
“I don’t,” you scoffed. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, nothing about us worked, nothing about us was ok, or normal, or happy, or-”
“Does he make you happy?” Carmen asked, venom in his tone. “Does he make you feel fuckin’-fuckin’ butterflies? Does he fuck you like I did? D-does he even see you the way I did? Does he make you laugh?”
“He doesn’t make me cry,” you smiled softly, thinking of Luca and how much you truly loved him. “He doesn’t make me question our relationship everyday. He doesn’t make me feel untalented and undeserving. He doesn’t make me feel used. He met me in London when I was crushed after our break-up, and he healed something he didn’t break in me, alright? He made me feel loved for the first time in a long time. My mom fucking loves him, a lot more than she liked you. He let me take everything at my own pace, and he never pushed me into something I wasn’t ready for. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for me to anyone! He didn’t make me question if we were even dating, ever! And the best part is, he fucking married me Carm, in this gorgeous ceremony where he cried while I came down the aisle and he cried during his vows. Do you want to know what his vows were? Ask him when we get inside, because he got his and mine fucking tattooed on his arm!” You were welling up at this stage. “He stood there with me, through thick and fucking thin, he made me feel loved when I felt unlovable, Carmen. And yes he gives me butterflies, yes he fucks me better than you ever did, and he sees me for who I am. So yes, he makes me very fucking happy Carmen.”
Carmen stood there for a moment, then nodded. “I still love you, you know that, right?”
You scoffed, stamping out your cigarette. “You might want to get over that,” and you turned away, and walked back into the dinner. The rest of the dinner was quick, and you skipped the invite to Sydney’s to retire to your hotel room. You sat on the bed, makeup wipes in hand as you tried to wash the night off of you. 
“Hey darling,” Luca’s soft voice cut through the thoughts clouding your mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You smiled as he wrapped you up in a bear hug from behind, he was so perfect, so kind, so Luca. “Sure.”
“I heard a little bit of what you said to Carmy outside.”
You took a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Before tonight, I was really fucking scared that when you found Carmy he’d somehow convince you I was a piece of shit and he’d sink his fucking claws into you again.”
You pressed a kiss to his arm and nodded. “He’s fucking…”
“He’s the worst,” he finished for you. “And I’m sorry about what he said tonight. He should’ve had the fucking manners to at least let us get to the third course before he started being a piece of shit.”
You both laughed, and you felt all the tension you held in slowly dissipate. “It was so delicious.”
“It was fucking amazing,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You mum really did something special there.”
“At least we’ll see her more in London,” you shrugged. “I really loved that place.”
“So did I,” He sighed against your neck. “Remember training there? God, you were so fucking cute in your chef’s hat-”
“Hats make me look stupid!” You argued, but laughed regardless. You flung his arms off of you, and a wrestling match ensued, one that ended with him under you. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then he deepened it, his hands sneaking up your thighs and around your head. 
“You look good in anything,” he whispered. “But my favourite thing you ever wore was your wedding dress.”
When you pulled away from his lips you saw the starry-eyed smile and sincere look on his face, and you knew you made the right choice. 
Luca was your everything. Carmen was nothing now, and he had to live with that.
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the bear masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
806 notes · View notes
cobaltperun · 3 months
Text
Jerks With Hearts of Gold
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader (Request)
Masterlist
@alexkolax here you go, sorry I left his for last, I had a blast writing it! Not sure if this completely fits the frenemies to lovers you requested, but I think it turned out fine. Thanks for the wonderful request! 😁😁💙💙 Also this is merged with a similar request here.
Word count: 4.8k
“No, you hear me! Quit picking apart every single thing you watch!” there they go again…
Sam groaned, burying her head in the pillow as she got front seat experience to yet another argument between Tara and you.
“I’m not! I just can’t turn my brain off!” you exclaimed and reluctantly Sam opened her eyes. There you and Tara were, arguing while the twins and Anika laughed their asses off, because of course they would.
“It’s a horror comedy!” Tara argued back, and by this point someone just needed to nudge either of you and you’d just kiss. But no one was doing that, because, according to Mindy, the professional expert, the two of you would just act disgusted and avoid each other. Meaning it probably happened before.
Although, according to Anika, the two of you were already together. Because, well, Tara brought you into the group. She vouched for you, granted behind your back, but still, she, apparently, hated your guts, yet she was the one who dragged you, literally, into the friend group.
Sam still remembered your valiant efforts to get free from Tara’s grip, yelling ‘Unhand me, Carpenter!’ as loud as it was socially acceptable in a park, while Tara grumbled something along the lines. ‘Trust me, I would, but someone insisted on meeting you!’ to this day they had no idea who insisted on meeting you. Because none of them did! Yet Tara claimed Chad did when he was drunk and that… wasn’t impossible, but it was a bit of a stretch.
At this point Sam was very temped to do it, just shove Tara into your arms. You’d either get together or stop talking to each other for a few days and as far as Sam was concerned either option was a win.
Wait… If you got together, you’d be here more often. You’d argue with Tara even more.
No. No! You would absolutely not get together!
Sam would not allow it!
“It’s too ridiculous to be considered a comedy! The woman’s head gets pulled off her body!” you shouted, arguing about whatever happened in the movie.
“Y/N…” Tara’s eye twitched, but she didn’t need her inhaler, so Sam was at least at peace with that. It really was you and Tara being plain and simple childish.
“And that dance montage? Get that out of here!” you complained and for a moment Sam could have sworn your and Tara’s hands touched, just for a moment.
Tara threw her hands up, so Sam must have been seeing things. “The actors were underage, what did you want?!”
“Not even implications, thank you very much!” well, Sam could see some reason in that argument.
Mindy apparently had enough and snapped her fingers getting your and Tara’s attention, though it was clear both of you were reluctant to give it to her. “Come on, at least agree that the actress is pretty,” she said, and the actress really was beautiful, so hopefully you and Tara could find common ground there. Instead of bickering about that as well.
“Never. She looks like Tara,” you immediately shut the idea of agreeing on anything down.
“Excuse me, what?” Tara demanded. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
You turned back to Tara and slowly smirked. “Oh, you know exactly what it means,” a moment later Tara was storming into her room, her face red with anger, and you as satisfied as you were just sat back down and sipped on your drink.
At least it was clear you and Tara weren’t getting together anytime soon, so Sam could relax.
There was one time she saw this happen and she began threatening you, only for Tara to come out, yelling that she would deal with you and that Sam shouldn’t get involved. Sam sighed back then, accepting that somehow Tara just liked having her buttons pushed by you, and pushing your buttons in return. It was a strange frenemy situation you and Tara were in, but Sam begrudgingly learnt to accept it.
~X~
Jerk, that’s what you were. Of course she knew exactly what you meant, and you were a jerk for that, making her flustered. She was lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling, still blushing, though not as much as when she came into her room. You were still as annoying as you were the first time you met.
She met you in a literature class, and she was the only one taking it so she couldn’t sit next to Mindy, Chad, or Anika. And by pure, dumb, luck, she sat down next to you, and she regretted it immediately as she could smell the cigarette smoke on your clothes and she couldn’t move away since the seats were taken, and well, plenty of students smoked so she kinda learnt to deal with it. Especially while she was going to parties where cigarettes were the least of her problems. As far as her asthma went.
It still irritated her lungs.
“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduced yourself and she was weary, of course she was, she was targeted by Ghostface twice. It was a miracle no one she loved was killed the last time, though both Anika and Gale just barely survived.
So, when you immediately introduced yourself she was suspicious, even though she was the one who sat down next to you. It was just her paranoia. “Tara Carpenter, it’s nice to meet you,” she still accepted your hand because she still, despite being paranoid, wished to live a relatively normal life.
And that’s how you met, you didn’t give off psycho vibes, granted neither did Ethan and Quinn, and she didn’t even want to think about Amber. But she felt strangely comfortable, despite the scent of cigarette smoke.
“You okay?” you noticed her discomfort, a lot faster than most people would.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. Just my asthma,” she smiled lightly, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she didn’t feel like lying.
Your eyes widened and you cursed under your breath, understanding what she meant. And you pulled your chair further away from her. “Shit, I’m sorry. I would switch, but,” you sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. “The only people I know in this class smoke a lot more than I do,” you did get up to open the window a few feet away from you as Tara looked at you, honestly not sure if she should get suspicious or if she should find your actions endearing. “Does this help?”
Tara nodded, it did help a bit. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
She had no idea it wouldn’t even take half an hour for your first argument to happen… And it began so nicely.
~X~
You were grinning like a fool in the Carpenter sister’s apartment, doing your best to ignore Sam’s exasperated look and Anika’s suspicious glances. You’ve come a long way since you met the group nine months ago. They initially glared daggers at you, Sam especially, when you and Tara argued in front of them the first time. Well, argued wasn’t exactly the right word, more like a very heated disagreement on a minor detail in the movie you just watched. Now they just accepted it as normal between the two of you and learnt to ignore or find amusement in it.
You barely even remembered what the book you started arguing about was, but you remembered very clearly what the argument was. And you felt sorry for it right now, as you didn’t know how close to home you were hitting.
“It’s a debate, on whether or not people deserve a second chance,” Tara answered the question the teacher asked.
“Correct, thank you. And what would you say, Miss-“ the man paused, having yet to learn all your names.
“Carpenter, sir. I say it depends on what is done and if there is an excuse and effort to fix things,” she said, convinced of her belief.
She sat down as you watched her, you agreed with her, though in your experience people rarely put enough effort to fix things. Still, you wanted to see how strong her conviction was.
“Does anyone have a different opinion?” the teacher asked and you raised your hand. “Yes?”
“I disagree entirely. It doesn’t depend, there’s no going back after broken trust, there will always be cracks, fears, doubts,” you argued and saw Tara raising an eyebrow as you focused almost entirely on her. “And people rarely put enough effort to make it up to the one they hurt.”
Tara bit the corner of her lip, and you’d later find out it was a habit when she was getting a bit anxious. Since you found out you made sure to never bring her to that point. Well, nowadays your arguments were mostly silly. “It’s not just one person that needs to make an effort. Both need to do their part if they want to rebuild their relationship,” she countered, briefly apologizing to the teacher for speaking out of turn, but the man just gave the two of you a go ahead.
“People who hurt you, truly hurt you, leaving deep scars, emotional or of any other kind, either don’t love you, or have no control over themselves, and it takes a lot of effort to fix the second one,” rare few were strong and mature enough to fix that, to gain control, and not do it again, and even fewer did it while accepting that the one they hurt didn’t owe them a second chance.
“You can’t know what they went through, some people need help to do that,” Tara argued and you didn’t realize until later that day that she wasn’t just talking about some belief she had, that she actually went through that.
“Exactly, because I didn’t do it to them. And I refuse to pay for the damage someone else did,” you countered and the argument continued, going back and forth, without either of you being necessarily wrong or right, it really depended on the point of view. You just had the tendency to be a lot more direct and confident in your arguments, making them sound stronger than they perhaps truly were. Tara was more willing to meet in the middle, to avoid direct confrontation, and it made her a much more pleasant discussion partner.
~X~
Tara scrolled through her photos, through a secret album that required a password, just in case anyone got really curious. The photos were completely innocent, but it was the person she was with that made them a secret. And she grinned, looking at the two of you laughing, your arm around her as you hugged her from behind and she took the picture.
You loved going on her nerves, but you had your moments, rare moments where you were just completely soft with her. She had literature class twice a week, and two weeks in she was a hundred percent sure you were a menace she would gladly kick out of the class, just so she never had to look at your face and smug smile and rare, soft smile, ever again.
She noticed it in the second week, but she wrote it off as an accident. But the scent of cigarette smoke was weaker than the first week. You probably didn’t get a chance to smoke before class. And then the second week she realized she couldn’t smell cigarette smoke on you at all. She was breathing perfectly fine, nothing in her vicinity irritated her lungs, but she didn’t say anything. Surely you didn’t quit cigarettes for her.
Any idea that you did that went crashing down through the closed window on the third floor their classroom was on and landed on the harsh concrete with multiple deep lacerations from the glass. Because five minutes later you were arguing about the book that was assigned to read. Even the teacher was getting a bit annoyed by the two of you at this point. But he encouraged healthy debates, and you and Tara were, technically, still having just a debate.
The week after that, when she once more didn’t smell the familiar irritating scent she just had to ask. “Did you quit smoking?” it was rare for the two of you to have a civil conversation that probably couldn’t start an argument, but maybe this would end like that.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Figured it was healthier, and I really don’t want to trigger your asthma, so two birds with one stone, I guess,” you sounded confident, but you still looked away, proving to her that you could, after all, get a bit shy.
“Oh,” Tara, however, was blushing, the heat in her cheeks was damn near unbearable, because even Sam still smoked occasionally. “Thanks,” she pushed her chair a bit closer to you and pulled her things out of her bag.
“Don’t mention it,” you said softly. And then, as if your softer, gentles, kinder, side ran out of battery, you went right back to how things were the past couple of weeks. “Your essay is nonsense; I don’t agree with one thing you wrote.”
Curse the teacher for making you give each other your assignments to read and debate on! “Yours was complete bullshit, I swear you just typed words until you reached the necessary length,” she fired back, both of you already slightly grinning.
~X~
Tara was easily the best person you could have ended up sitting next to for your literature class, though you would never, absolutely never, say that to her face. The only issue was that you absolutely could not go one class without bickering.
You had a long night at work and were actually quite sleepy during the lesson one time, about a month into the semester, and you were catching every other word at best. Your notes weren’t making any sense, and you even had no energy to argue with Tara. So, maybe, just maybe, the day would end without arguing.
“Here,” Tara sighed, pushing her notebook closer to you near the end of the class and you raised an eyebrow. “Just copy my notes,” she told you.
You smiled, leaning closer to her and if anyone said your shoulders were touching they were being a huge liar. The biggest of them all, because there was absolutely no contact between you and Tara Carpenter.
None whatsoever.
“Tara,” you whispered and looked at her, completely serious. “Your handwriting is awful,” you told her, and you swore you saw a vein pop up on her forehead.
“That’s what I get for trying to help you,” she shook her head in disbelief, though she didn’t take her notebook back.
~X~
You and Tara rarely hung out outside of classes before she introduced you to her friends. But there was one time, when all her friends went back to their parents and Sam was working a night shift, so, Tara went to your apartment, dragged you out of your comfy bed, she actually did that. Well, she tried, she was strong given her size, but she wasn’t that strong.
You still remembered the terror you felt. You opened your doors to Tara, woken up about an hour after you fell asleep and let her in. You didn’t even argue, you just closed the doors behind her and went right to your bed and fell back onto it as she rambled about some party or whatever. Something about Sam not letting her go to a party alone, and you were her only option. How was she even going to explain to Sam that she wasn’t going alone? Sam had no idea you even existed!
Okay, maybe she did know you existed if Tara complained about you, but that definitely didn’t make you a fitting candidate to keep Tara company at a party. You were just about to fall back asleep, Tara being in your apartment didn’t bother you one bit, she’d get bored and leave. But then she began pulling your hand to get up.
“Don’t wanna,” you mumbled sleepily, and surprisingly she let go.
Which was very concerning.
You opened one eye and saw Tara taking several steps back with a very mischievous grin on her face and then charging forward. “Tara!” you cried out, fully awake and jumping to your feet as she landed on your bed, elbow right where your guts was, though you doubted that part was intentional.
Your bed miraculously survived the Tara bomb.
Tara laughed as she rolled to the side, lying her head on your pillow and an annoying part of your brain found the image in front of you rather appealing. “You should have seen the look on your face!” she exclaimed, holding her stomach while laughing.
You smirked, ready for verbal payback. “And you are really eager to ride me,” her laughter stopped, her face turned red and you, satisfied with your work, grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom to change.
Luckily, you didn’t get too drunk that night and by the morning Sam had no idea Tara spent the night anywhere but in her bed. Though she, truthfully, crashed at your place for the night. You, of course, took the couch. And just thinking about sleeping on the couch made you frown. As that was what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks and your body was starting to get stiff, because that thing was not meant to be used for sleeping for extended periods of time.
You couldn’t say you regretted it though. You just couldn’t wait to get a new bed.
~X~
If there was one thing Tara learnt to appreciate about you, it was how predictable you were with her. Come hell or high water she could count on you to argue with her just because you found it fun to debate about things. And as months passed you went from annoying classmate always playing a devil’s advocate and arguing with her on everything, to an actually pleasant company. Most of the times. Sometimes.
She felt like she could trust you. She felt like she could fall for you and not regret it.0
What she didn’t expect was genuine compassion from you. And it happened so abruptly, so out of nowhere, she couldn’t even see it coming.
The two of you met at the front doors as you usually did for the few weeks prior to that day. And the floors were wet, just recently cleaned, but she was so out of it since she was accidentally reminded of Amber that she didn’t notice and she slipped, falling backwards. She wasn’t sure if she released any sounds, but the next moment you were behind her, holding her firmly, one of your hands on her side, the other around her shoulders, with the back of her head leaning on your chest. You were holding her, making sure you’d take the worst of the fall if you still went down, if you didn’t manage to stand firmly enough on the slippery floor.
“I got you,” you told her, clearly concerned, and Tara just leaned against you, barely supporting her weight.
“Can I trust you?” she asked, almost out of breath.
You nodded, your eyes filled with conviction. You weren’t messing around, you weren’t going to argue, you were there, one hundred percent. “I’m here for you, anytime,” you assured her and she grabbed onto your hand, still on her side, accidentally covering one of her stab wounds, and Tara, surprisingly felt completely safe, protected.
“Skip class with me?” she asked and you nodded, helping her regain her balance and the class was soon forgotten. She took you to your place, since Sam was still at home and your place was closer anyway.
You didn’t say one word, but you remained close to her, your hands brushing against one another as you walked and when you went into your apartment you sat down right next to her. Your presence was comforting, though at this point she wasn’t surprised by that.
Tara took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she wanted to do. She wanted to let you in, to fully trust you, to introduce you to her friends and Sam. “Do you know what happened in Woodsboro?” she began and your eyes widened, and that was all she needed to know as she began talking. She poured it all out, Sam, Amber, deaths of her dear friends, the betrayal, coming to New York, and what happened with Richie’s family, she told you everything. Every single feeling she had, things she found difficult to talk about with her therapist, or even with Sam, it just all burst out, like whatever contained those feelings suddenly burst and cracked, letting it all out.
And you remained silent, though you hugged her, tight and gentle at the same time. And it felt so good she climbed onto your lap, clutching at the back of your shirt, clinging to you as hard as she could. You didn’t complain, you just wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands trembling slightly in barely concealed anger. Hearing you gritting your teeth, feeling your fingers twitching, and your body just barely relaxing when her warmth and weight, and voice right in your ear would remind you that she was, in fact, still here, it all felt good to her.
It felt like she was, at least a tiny bit, being released from the horrors she went through.
Though she still didn’t introduce you to others, it took nearly four months for that to happen, and by then, well, a lot of things happened.
~X~
You figured enough time passed that you could move away from your spot and leave the conversation you were having with Chad. “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you purposely pointed toward the bathroom and hopped to your feet. You went into the hall, and making sure no one was behind you, just went the opposite way and snuck into Tara’s room.
She turned on her bed and smiled, reaching out for you as you knelt on her bed and kissed her soft lips. Damn, you wished you could do this freely, just kiss her whenever you wanted, but you understood her friends might not be ready to accept you as Tara’s girlfriend, and not just classmate she loved bickering with. You licked her lips, just lightly teasing her as she hugged you, her fingers already gently massaging the back of your head.
“I can’t believe the bickering is still working,” you muttered between the kisses. Sure, you and Tara still enjoyed an occasional debate here and there, but you stopped bickering almost a year ago! And the bickering still worked on her friends! And you’ve been sneaking behind their back, sneaking in kisses all over Tara’s apartment. In the kitchen, bathroom if you were really desperate, or the hall if you were feeling rather bold, but for the most part it was in her room, just like this. Tara would storm into her room, you’d wait, and go after her, sneaking a quick make-out session in before you’d come back from wherever you were.
Things were a bit different this time around, as Tara kissed you harder than before, pushing you until your positions were switched and she was straddling you. She grabbed onto your collar, pushing it to the side so she could kiss the spot where your neck and shoulder met, and, though a bit risky, she decided to leave a mark, biting the spot and sucking as you grabbed onto her hips to steady yourself.
“Tara,” you sat up, you both knew you didn’t have much time. “We shouldn’t risk it,” you told her, but you still pulled her in for another kiss, your tongues meeting as her hands gripped your shoulders.
“Just a bit more, I miss this,” she admitted, and you missed it too, and it was worth getting caught to you, but you weren’t completely sure it was worth it to Tara.
In the end, you just said screw it and kissed along her jaw, gradually going lower until your lips met her neck.
“Remember how flustered you got when I kissed you for the first time?” Tara asked out of blue, sighing and holding your head close to her neck. Well, maybe it wasn’t completely out of blue, next week would be a year since you got together.
“You were so damn smug about it,” you grumbled, though you still kissed the side of Tara’s neck, paying extra attention to the more sensitive spots, while, much to your annoyance, making sure you didn’t leave marks anywhere visible.
“Mhm, you deserve it for making me work for it,” she grinned, her hold on you growing stronger as she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.
You pulled back and looked her in the eyes and then at her lips, inviting, beautiful. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman you ever saw, so no, Tara wasn’t pretty. She was much, much more than that. And you kissed her, pouring all of your passion and love for her into the kiss, deepening it as Tara moaned. The feeling of her body pressed against you made you wish you could just stop hiding from her friends and Sam.
And then four very loud gasps, followed by yelps and doors slamming against the wall and then bodies stumbling onto the floor on a pile of limbs and everything else, with poor Chad underneath the three women broke you and Tara apart.
“Y-You two are-“ Mindy stuttered, and you had to admit you enjoyed the professional expert being surprised.
“Together? Yes,” you shrugged, the cat was out of the bag, and you couldn’t exactly say you were arguing telepathically and needed to have your tongue deep inside Tara’s mouth to do so.
The four of them scrambled to their feet and just looked at you and Tara like nothing ever surprised them as much as this.
Eventually, Anika got over her surprise and offered an open palm to Mindy and Chad. “Pay up, I guessed it right,” Anika demanded from them.
The twins groaned and you and Tara watched incredulously as they each pulled out twenty bucks and gave them to Anika. But nothing, not twins and Anika betting on whether you and Tara were together, not their surprised faces, not your secret being revealed, nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to Sam’s expression. She looked like someone completely shattered her brain.
“Sam?” Tara tried calling her sister, just to snap her out of the stupor.
“You two… for how long?” Sam managed to utter.
“Uh, before you guys even met me,” you admitted sheepishly, and nudged Tara to get off your lap, but she was comfortable and very few things could get Tara off your lap, especially now that you two got caught.
Not that you minded, you loved when she was on your lap, but her sister might get a heart attack if this continues, and you didn’t want Sam to die.
Sam nodded, she nodded several times, humming to herself before she just walked out of Tara’s room. “She’ll get used to it,” Tara shrugged as Sam gave you two a thumbs up.
Sam took a deep, rather audible breath and came back, pointing right at you. “Don’t break Tara’s heart,” she warned with her best glare, which was actually intimidating.
“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Tara reassured her before you could answer, and frankly, you loved how quickly she said that. “We kinda broke her bed back at her place, so… not saying that won’t happen ever again,” she chuckled sheepishly as your eyes widened and you all turned to Tara. Well, you did break the bed, but she did not need to tell them that.
Sam opened her mouth, but then closed it as Tara shrugged, acting like she was completely innocent in that case of property damage.
“I think we might have broken Sam,” Tara told you, clearly surprised that that was even a possibility, and she glanced at the rest of your friends and then gestured at the doors.
“Right! Got it!” they scampered outside as you and Tara chuckled, and just like that you were alone once more.
“I love you, you know,” you said as you kissed her cheek and she just grinned.
“I know,” she smirked, barely holding her laughter back as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, come the fuck on!” you groaned, dropping down onto the bed and pulling Tara on top of you.
Tara laughed like she just heard the best joke ever. Well, she did love teasing you. “I love you too,” she said as her laughter subsided and she kissed you on the lips.
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habken · 4 months
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/busts down your door WHAT ALL HAVE I MISSED IN BNHA?????? I just saw your comic and I’m so confused
okay so bakugou got got right we all know that, shigaraki fucked up his arm, bakugou said “oh I know what I gotta do” and did a good attack on shiggy but his heart exploded </3 and he died but edgshot said “nuh uh” and used his body to stitch it back up and then deku was late to the party and didnt even have time to be bummed out about bakugou’s corpse cause he has to fight shigaraki and then somewhere else afo does stuff blah blah blah and snatches hawks quirk (rip) and then takes off to join shigafo in that fight but all might says “not on my watch” and intercepts him and they duke it out and all this time afo is getting younger cause he used something made from eris quirk so he could keep duking it out with endeavour and that gang so he’s like a teen fighting poor old man all might who used all his savings to by himself a mech suit but it’s not going so hot for him and stain shows up to take on afo with all might but afo still wins and is about to finish off all might when bakugou starts up his own heart with his explosive sweat and makes really fruity eye contact with deku and with the power of friendship deku pauses his fight with shigafo to launch bakugou towards afo and bakugou saved all might and goes “dawg who’s this kid I’m about to beat the shit out of” and all might says “that’s afo” and bakugou goes to beat the shit out of toddler afo and succeeds because afo finally benjamin buttons out of existence but the whole balugou’s arm looks like seconds away from falling off, then after a long day of fighting bakugou takes a well deserved nap and we go back to deku v shigafo and it’s not going well for deku he’s trying to break through to tenko but he’s not getting anywear and then shigaraki steals danger sense and it gets even worse but second user goes “wait ! What if we attack him with psychic damage, give shigaraki ofa and we’ll beat the shit out of his mind so you can do your thing” amd deku is very sad but agrees and then after he goes punches all of the ofa vestiges into shigaraki they end up in his mind palace and little deku holds little tenko hand even though it’s disintegrating his own and this is where we think “wow he truly won with the power of friendship” but no !! He did not ! The afo vestige that loves in shigaraki’s mind comes out and evil laughs and says “you idiot I’ve been behind all the awful missrable things that happened your whole life ! I convinced your dad to have you, I took your og quirk away and gave you half of an ability that should have let you destroy and recreate but only gave you the destructive part because I am evil and you are too because I made you that way” and shigaraki goes :0 ?!1?;& and dissolves because afo cast vicious mockery and got a nat20 dealing double damage. We then exit shigaraki’s mind and deku has no arms !! But behind him avengers endgame style, heroes amass and aizawa steps out of the portal and goes “damn sorry midoriya if only I’d come like a minute earlier now you’re armless </3” but ! He tosses deku eri’s horn because eri havked it off herself to give to deku to save him and deku’s arms start growing back :D at the same time, afo has fully taken over shigaraki’s body and i like “haha tomura is no more it’s just me now” but he’s super bummed out because his vestige brother is gone as well and he’s like “damn what even is the reason for doing anything anymore :// I guess I’ll still kick ur ass or whatever but I’m kinda apathetic about taking over the world now” but while deku gave away ofa he still has some of the embers and with the power of froendship once more, he dodges afo’s attacks and punches him super duper hard, and we see shigaraki again :D and yoichi :00 and yoichi says sone shit to afo and shigaraki turns to deku like “this was truly our hero academia :) tell spinner I love him” and deku says “sure dawg” and they fist bump and stuff
tldr: deku gave up ofa to save shigaraki and bakugou’s arm is super super messed up which is very fun
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thatsdemko · 7 months
Text
my valentine - o.piastri
masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: a red lacy Valentine’s Day seems to be just the kind of thing Oscar needs…
warnings: not intended for minors + oral (f receiving) + talks of Valentine’s Day + some errors here or there
a/n: I’m baaaack! while I know this isn’t the part two to the secret Santa that’ll hopefully be here soon I’m having some trouble writing that rn… but please enjoy this!!!
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what did men like on Valentine’s Day? was it lace? was it red? or was it just sex? you couldn’t decide the answer. while you stood dumbfounded and dripping in nervous sweat inside the Victoria secret, it left you no choice but to leave and hope scrolling on Amazon wouldn’t lead to the same amount of panic and overwhelm.
you’d wanted to make Valentine’s Day perfect for Oscar. with all of his training and simulator work he’s been doing this winter break, you figured he deserved something special. you perused store upon store for the ideal lingerie for that special Wednesday night, but came up with nothing.
“you’re back from the mall awfully early.” Oscar comments hearing his apartment door shut behind you.
“really? felt like I was there for ages.” you huff out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the couch, “if you were wanting something for Valentine’s Day, what would it be?” you ask staring into his big brown eyes.
a laugh escapes his lips. he’s told you infinite amount of times he wanted nothing for the silly hallmark day. he just wanted a nice meal and some quiet time with you. what more could a man ask for? it was a door you never wanted to open, but you knew there was more to it.
“please don’t buy me anything—“
“oh no it’s not like that.” you cut him off, the heat returns to your cheeks when he looks over at you with a knowing look. you sink further into the couch cushions hoping to disappear, but his eyes stay glued to your growing redness.
“well then I guess I’ve always liked the color red on you.”
the red lace underneath your pajamas is uncomfortable. you’re unsure how anyone woman could deal with the deep wedge of material up their ass, and the sheer itching against their stomachs, but you figure you can power through. it’s just one night— well that’s unless Oscar decides the 10 dollar red lace bodysuit was to stay permanently.
you hear the lock of your apartment free, and the door swing behind him indicating Oscar and the carry out food had arrived.
“darling, where are you?” he calls out from the kitchen, and taking no time to wait for you. he’s unpacked the styrofoam containers from the bag, opening his box, he takes in a few bites of food that attempted to spill out the container.
reaching for a napkin to clean up his mess, he quickly glances up to see if you’ve made your way in only to stop in his tracks, jaw nearly smack to the floor at the sight of red.
“you look—“ he doesn’t get the chance to begin, there’s not a word he can find to finish the sentence, because whatever it was he was already feeling against his pants.
moving around the counter, he finds himself in front of you where he can see just how much you’re doing to him with so little. a giggle escapes your lips as you pull his face to yours, “did you want to eat first?” you ask.
shaking his head he whispers a no, before placing his hands against your hips, finger tips gently trail the red lace up your body, “I want you first.”
it’s not a long walk to your bedroom, but it feels like ages for him. every second he doesn’t have his hands on you is a waste, and when he finally does get them, it’s not wasted removing the lace from your body revealing every part of you faster than you expected him to do.
he takes the second to fumble with the condom, his fingers shake with anticipation, it’s almost like the first time you’d done it in your relationship. the nerves got to you both, trying to figure out what worked and didn’t, but now, you’d say your pros. knowing the ins and outs of each others bodies, like how he favored your lips around his dick and you liked his fingers inside of you. with time, you learned all of this.
this was a gift on its own, one that had him dripping in precum and aching to get inside you. and when the condom finally was secured, he, once again, didn’t waste a second to find your cunt and fuck you.
his hips grind against yours creating warmth between your bodies. his hair falls across his forehead that you can barely see with the blur of pleasure in your eyes.
he doesn’t say much. he never does, but he doesn’t hesitate to praise you, adore you, and remind you of how lucky he is.
“you’re so good to me,” he’s saying, transitioning from being inside you, his lips travel across your warm skin all the way down to your hips. his fingers gently nudge your thighs open, and you get the hint, “let me do this for you, my valentine.”
you’re unsure if it was the kisses, the words, or his warm tongue against your wet folds, but one of them got the air stuck in your throat. there’s nothing more than you love than the sound of Oscar eating you out. the slurps, the hum— all of it. the sounds were pleasing to your ears, even more so than the action itself you were gripping the sheets.
he’s edging you, playing you. its ridiculous and maybe you deserve it. after all, you’d put the idea of you in red in his head days ago and he’d been unable to concentrate. the patterns of floral dancing across your chest, a low cut neckline, he’d wanted it all— or none of it if you’d decided that. but you deserved this in some way. you’d been the one to send his dick rock hard any hour or second of the day.
“osc,” the moan comes out more like a pity plea. the chuckle against your pussy sent a chill down your spine and a twirl in your stomach. so you deserved that much, you thought, but this? not letting you come? too much.
“I’m gonna come,” the words spill as does the warmth out of you, his face covered in you wasn’t something he could ever be mad about, but not giving him the chance to edge you? you’ll be paying for that later.
“I wasn’t finished.” he slides a finger inside, barely giving you time to rest and recover, “you fucked with my mind all week.” he groans at the very sight of you from a couple minutes ago. he wished he’d taken a picture, saved it for later, but he was too antsy. his pants did the thinking more than his head. and that’s why he’s stuck his finger in your pussy.
he loves the sound of you. moans, groans, whines, whatever it was. he knew you liked the way he rubbed your clit, the way he kept going until he felt the shake of the frame against him, and that’s when he removed his fingers letting you come.
“what a jackass.” you swear closing your legs up and pushing yourself up off the mattress to find your clothes, “didn’t even let me cum on your fingers, like it’s not Valentine’s Day—“
he shuts you up with a soft kiss, “I think we should eat first before another round.” his words hang in the air as he watches the anger sizzle out of you, “and I want you in that red thing again.”
“anything for you, my valentine.”
tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @leclerc13 @smoothopz @imsorare @lpab @lunnnix @frreyaa
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