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#why would i give a damn what the rest of the post was about when a wigga shouldn't be using words like that period
thenixkat · 1 year
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Anyway, if you aren’t Black don’t use any variation of woke. I don’t care what conservatives are calling fuckers/using as the new sjw/political correctness/what have you.
If you know what fuckers mean use what they mean, and if you don’t why are you copying what people are saying?
Woke ain’t for you. If the discussion isn’t about Black people being aware of and/or educating other Black people about racism/antiblackness/structural inequality/all the other bullshit then it doesn’t need to be used in the discussion.
#nix meows#aave#woke#aave misuse#apparently that one post i made where i directly mentioned how i don't wanna see boogleech no more showed up in his tags#which is generally how tumblr's search function works; if a word in there it shows up#anyway i do wish a motherfucker would learn to take a hint that i do not wish to continue a conversation#cause all i'm getting is excuses about how he's just paraphrasing so its fine#that other people don't have an issue and not 'to shoot the messenger#my wigga i was forced to see the word 'wokeist' (yall know i can't spell) on a post from someone i know is white#who's posts show up everyfucking where in the corner of tumblr i generally operate in#why would i give a damn what the rest of the post was about when a wigga shouldn't be using words like that period#aint no fucking changing my mind#ya ruined my night and i don't wanna see ya#i aint ask nobody to block you or some shit like that#i personally don't wanna get microaggressed on my own damn dash cause my white mutuals (who mean well but dont all ways catch shit)#decided to reblog it untagged#like yeah its pretty easy to drop a bitch i only occasionally interacted with over the course of a few years over#it just on the innitial 'it's not an issue' dismissal#told me everything i needed to know#bogleech#may as well actually tag them cause I've been feeling a lot less charitible given how they handled shit and kept trying to shut me up#plus they're a vote blue no matter who fucker like genocide joe is harm reduction
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emphistic · 12 days
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Bf!Sukuna who sometimes calls you 'girlfriend' — and not in a flamboyant way
"Girlfriend, c'mere."
"What do you want, girlfriend?"
"Sure, girlfriend."
Bf!Sukuna who loves having your lips on his; he'll just randomly come up to you and slot his lips against yours without a word
Bf!Sukuna who walks around the house shirtless, and teases you by saying, "You should try it out," only to get a pillow thrown at his head
Bf!Sukuna who would pause his video game just for you
Bf!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, and cannot function without having you in a foot radius — but will never admit it
"I'm going to go get groceries now."
"I'll come with you," he said, immediately standing up from the couch.
"I thought you hated errands."
Sukuna shrugged, "'m bored."
Bf!Sukuna who spits in your food when you're not looking
Bf!Sukuna who, when he can't sleep, will just stare at you — a few times, you've woken up to his creepy crimson eyes staring back at you, and you socked him in the jaw
Bf!Sukuna who claims to hate your music, but whenever you two are in the car, he'll always let you handle the aux
Bf!Sukuna who purposely forgets to do your laundry so he can see you be forced to wear his clothes instead
Bf!Sukuna who is the king of keeping eye contact
Bf!Sukuna who'll hover around while you do your makeup and just ask random questions
"What does that do?"
"Why the fuck is it shaped like that?"
"It's almost as big as my dick."
Bf!Sukuna who steals your things and raises them above his head where you can't reach just to mess with you
Bf!Sukuna who never gets cold, and while that may seem like a good thing in the winter because you have a personal heat generator, it is the absolute worst during the summer — you have to ban cuddling because Sukuna is just too damn warm
Bf!Sukuna who doesn't help you bring in groceries, even if your hands are full
Bf!Sukuna who ignores you for the rest of the day if you forget to give him a good morning kiss, or good morning text (if you guys are temporarily apart)
Bf!Sukuna who is good at everything he touches
— a/n: kinda irrelevant if you ask me, but I just had to include this
Bf!Sukuna who pretends to forget if you guys have planned a date together
Bf!Sukuna who gets a hard-on when he sees your angry face; he loves having you pull on his ear and drag him away to a secluded area to hear you yell at him — he thinks you sound so sexy and look so hot
Bf!Sukuna who isn't above doing extreme pda when he sees someone staring at your ass
Bf!Sukuna who whines about going to work, claiming it's boring, but in reality: he just doesn't want to leave you — or vice versa: he doesn't want you to leave for work
Bf!Sukuna who swears up and down he doesn't want kids and hates children, but when he sees you taking care of his little brother Yuuji, he finds himself doing a mental 180°
Bf!Sukuna who goes into a trance staring at your ass
Bf!Sukuna who has no purpose for an Instagram account: you forced him to make one — he never posts on there, but when does, it's only pictures of you and occasionally him and you
Bf!Sukuna who has a drum set in your guys' shared apartment, but refuses to play it for anyone but you, and even then, he only plays to annoy you or wake you up from your nap
Bf!Sukuna who permanently quit smoking when he saw you plugging your nose near him
Bf!Sukuna who enjoys chasing you around the apartment, sometimes with a knife in hand just to make you extra scared
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk (pls lmk if u only want to be tagged in my boy nextdoor series or all of my work) @lillycore
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osaemu · 8 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight
contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.
author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎
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7:58 PM
satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.
but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.
dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.
now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.
no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.
you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.
you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.
which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.
"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"
he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."
you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."
at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.
"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"
"satoru." 
"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.
10:34 PM
"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.
it's been like this every night.
"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"
"is it about the blindfold?"
"obviously."
he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."
"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"
he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."
you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."
"then why'd you as-"
"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.
satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."
"you seriously think i'd do that?"
"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 
"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"
"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."
he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.
so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"
"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 
"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."
satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 
but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 
how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.
a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 
but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.
so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.
somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.
a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 
"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"
satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."
he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.
to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.
"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"
"satoru, you look the same."
he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.
"yep."
"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."
"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."
"ah, i believe it was only six days."
"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"
satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."
he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 
but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.
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bigskyandthecoldgun · 8 months
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based off this post i made a couple days ago lmao
words: 2.1k
Generally speaking, Steve Harrington is a pretty good boyfriend.
He takes Eddie out, never lets him pay for stuff if he can help it—hell, he’s even bought Eddie flowers before. And Eddie’s not complaining, because it’s hard enough to find another queer man in Hawkins, let alone one willing to date him. So Steve is his first boyfriend, and Eddie hasn’t had much (read: any) experience with dating.
But he’s pretty damn sure by the time they hit the three-month mark that Steve’s staunch refusal to hold his hand is unusual.
It’s not like Steve isn’t affectionate. More often than not, Steve’s arm will be around his shoulders or his waist, and there are no shortages of kisses anywhere and everywhere. But Steve won’t hold his hand. And he hasn’t let Eddie give him a handjob. Which—the latter isn’t as much of an issue, because maybe Steve’s just not a fan of handjobs, and that’s fine, Eddie’s not an asshole, Steve’s more than entitled to say no to stuff like that.
Though, Steve’s got no problem putting his hands to work, so what is it about the idea of holding hands or Eddie touching him in the same way that makes Steve so weirdly uncomfortable?
Eddie’s first thought had been that Steve might just not like holding hands. That the clamminess of another palm in his gives him the same kind of sensory ick that Eddie gets from getting adhesive residue on his hands. But Steve holds hands with Robin all the time with no problem, so it can’t be that.
His second thought is that Steve might be so used to being the ‘man in the relationship,’ so to speak, that he doesn’t think Eddie would want to be as handsy. But, again—doesn’t explain the hand holding thing. Because Steve had definitely held hands with girls he’d dated in the past, if Eddie’s high school memories aren’t failing him.
So what the hell is it?
What’s so unthinkable about being touched by Eddie?
And Eddie tries not to read too much into it, because he’s more than aware that both he and Steve have some internalized stuff about being queer, and maybe Steve’s just working through that. He tries not to read too much into it because Steve is a good boyfriend, save for this one weird thing, and maybe they’ll get to a point where Steve will tell him why he doesn’t want to hold hands or have Eddie’s hands on his bare skin for more than a minute or two.
They’re making out on Steve’s couch one night, Eddie’s hands on Steve’s waist and Steve’s hands already halfway through undoing the button on Eddie’s jeans. Eddie starts to tug at Steve’s shirt to get it untucked from his jeans. “C’mere, wait, lemme touch you,” Eddie breathes, and Steve grins against his mouth before backing away. Eddie blinks, utterly confused. “What? What is it?”
Steve just laughs, shakes his head, and dives back in for another kiss. “You’re funny,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips, and Eddie feels a weird tug in his gut, because something’s wrong, and Steve’s acting weird again about Eddie touching him.
He thinks it’s funny.
Thinks it’s funny that Eddie wants to touch him.
Well, firstly, ouch. Secondly, that’s a real jerk move, but he’s torn between telling Steve off and getting off. He ends up going with the better option, because Steve might be acting like a jerk, but he’s a jerk that’s jerking Eddie off, so…better than nothing, Eddie supposes.
He doesn’t bring it up again for another three months, resigning himself to have his hands redirected from Steve’s bare skin and remaining steadfastly un-handheld. And, sure, y’know, he might be able to attribute it to the fact that they spend a lot of time with people who don’t know they’re together yet, but that possibility is quickly eradicated when Steve suggests that they tell the rest of the Party about them.
“You sure you wanna do that?” Eddie asks, brows raised skeptically, because for a guy who won’t hold Eddie’s hand, Steve’s pretty gung-ho about airing their business to the rest of the group.
Steve just tilts his head, a cute little look of confusion on his face. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, like the idea of him not wanting people to know about him and Eddie is crazy. Steve blinks, the confusion turning to concern. “I mean, unless you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you—”
“You can tell them,” Eddie cuts in, fidgeting with his rings. “I’m—yeah. Yeah, you can tell them.”
Maybe this will finally give Steve the push he needs to get over himself and hold Eddie’s goddamn hand before Eddie goes crazy and gets shipped off to Pennhurst.
Or…maybe not.
Because Steve still won’t hold his hand. Or let Eddie touch him.
The one time Eddie had managed to get his hands on Steve’s bare skin, he’d spotted Steve itching at the spots Eddie had touched in the bathroom later that night, the door only open a crack. Which is pretty dramatic, even for Eddie’s taste. Is the feeling of Eddie’s hands on him really so awful? Christ, Eddie’s getting sick and tired of this shit.
Eventually, nine months into their relationship, Steve blatantly moves a hand away from Eddie’s during a movie night when Eddie tries to take hold of it. In front of their friends. Eddie sucks up his wounded pride and corners Nancy in the kitchen later, after the first movie is over and they’ve been sent to get snacks while Steve and Robin argue over what movie to play next, wondering if he should even be asking her.
“Something on your mind?” she asks, because he hasn’t come up with anything to start with yet, and Eddie sighs.
“Is—okay, did Steve ever—when you guys were dating, did he ever, like, not hold your hand?” he asks, and Nancy tilts her head.
“I mean, sometimes…? It was only because I was wearing rings, though,” she says, like that makes perfect sense, like Steve just has some ring-phobia or something, and Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. Nancy gives him a little smile. “You wear yours all the time, so I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”
Okay, so, weird ring-phobia it is.
That’s the new working theory, and when he and Steve bunk in Steve’s room for the night, Eddie makes a show of carefully pulling his rings off and setting them on the bedside table. There’s a couple of green marks on his fingers where the clear nail polish he’d coated the interiors in has chipped away, and he rubs at his bare fingers absentmindedly as he climbs under the covers. He takes a deep breath and laces his fingers with Steve’s, ready to have Steve pull his hand away for the umpteenth time.
Instead, he’s met with a surprised, pleased little hum. “You took your rings off,” Steve notes, relief clear in his voice, and Eddie nods, trying not to let the feeling of triumph show on his face too much. Steve grins at him and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “That’s a nice surprise.”
“What, you don’t like my rings?” Eddie teases, keeping the genuine curiosity in his voice to a minimum, and Steve’s brows furrow.
“What? No, no, I love your rings, Eds,” Steve tells him. He lowers his voice. “I think they’re pretty hot, actually.”
Okay. Okay, so a wrench has been thrown into the ring-phobia theory.
“What, are they too cheap for his majesty’s royal fingers?” Eddie jokes, putting on a goofy, poorly-done British accent, and Steve’s nose wrinkles slightly.
“I mean, they are costume jewelry,” Steve says. “Nickel-plated, right?”
Ah.
So…it’s that Eddie looks, or even feels, too cheap.
Jesus. He hadn’t thought Steve would be that shallow.
Eddie swallows. “Uh, yeah, they—they are. I can stop wearing them, if you…” he trails off, not really sure what to do with this new information. Cheap to the touch, apparently enough to make Steve wrinkle his nose at the thought of Eddie touching him with his rings on.
“What? No, no, you don’t have to. I’m good, I can deal with it,” Steve says, like it’s supposed to be reassuring, like it’s such a big sacrifice for him to deal with how inexpensive Eddie’s taste in jewelry is, like their relationship isn’t serious enough for Steve to get over himself.
It’s just his rich boy upbringing, Eddie reminds himself. Even Wheeler’s upper-middle-class jewelry wasn’t enough to beat that expensive taste.
Evidently, the conversation had stuck in his boyfriend’s brain, because on the morning of their first anniversary, Eddie is given a long, velvety black box with four Sterling silver rings. They’re exact replicas, design-wise, of their nickel-plated counterparts, and Steve looks so proud of himself, so pleased with his gift idea, and Eddie barely stops himself from frowning.
“Oh,” Eddie says, a little hollow, “um, thank you.”
“You like ’em?” Steve asks, and there’s such a hopeful look on his face that it just pisses Eddie off more. “I just figure—y’know, because, I mean, I can’t hold your hand if you’re wearing costume jewelry, so—”
“Yeah, no, I, uh—I got that,” Eddie says with a strained smile. “Thanks, Steve.”
Steve’s brows furrow. “I feel like you’re mad at me,” he says, and he says it with humor, but there’s genuine worry behind it. “Did I screw up your present that bad? Were you dropping hints and hoping for something else?”
Eddie’s jaw clenches. “It’s…the present is fine, Steve,” he says.
“You don’t like them,” Steve mumbles, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I mean, it might take me a lot longer to save up, but is—would you, like, prefer titanium or steel or something? I didn’t really think you were a gold kind of guy, but it’s fine if you are, I just didn’t know—”
“Why do I have to prefer anything?” Eddie snaps. Steve blinks at him. The look of pure confusion on his face is a little infuriating, like he can’t even fathom why Eddie might be upset, and Eddie’s eye twitches. “Look, just because you’re all high and mighty about what jewelry is worthy of being seen near you—”
“Woah, woah, what are you talking about?” Steve asks, alarmed.
Letting out a frustrated groan, Eddie slams the box down on the coffee table and stands up to stomp around the living room, pacing back and forth. “You won’t let me hold your hand o-or even touch you, like you’re so above cheap shit that you can’t bear to let it touch you, and I’m so sorry that I’ve offended the sensibilities of his highness with my ‘costume jewelry,’ but Jesus, Steve, you can’t even get over yourself on our anniversary? I’ve seen you act like me touching you with my rings on gives you hives or some shit, like it’s just so terrible that it makes your skin crawl—”
“It does,” Steve says, a little subdued, eyes wide with shock, lips parted, “I’m allergic to nickel.”
Eddie pauses mid-stomp.
“You’re what?” he squeaks.
Steve blinks, and a long silence stretches between them. “I’m allergic to nickel, Eds, everybody knows I am,” he says. “I can’t hold your hand if you’re wearing nickel-plated stuff, but you really like your rings, they’re important to your look, so I wasn’t gonna be a dick and tell you to take them off just so I could.”
Recontextualizing every interaction of his year-long relationship he’d tried not to read too hard into is…a lot to experience in a little under thirty seconds.
“Oh, dear God, I’ve been an asshole,” Eddie mutters. “I thought you wouldn’t let me touch you because—but it was just—”
“Yeah, an itchy dick is not a good feeling,” Steve says, a nervous little laugh bubbling out of him. His face falls a little. “I—did you think—?”
“I’m so sorry,” Eddie blurts, horrified. “I am so sorry, Steve, oh my God—”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t—I must’ve seemed like a total jerk, Eddie, I should’ve told you outright, but I guess I figured you already knew,” Steve says, shrugging helplessly. “But, no, it’s nothing like what you said, I promise, I’m just—I’m allergic.”
Eddie immediately yanks the rings from his fingers and fumbles to get the box open, swapping them out for the silver ones, which he jams onto his fingers as fast as humanly possible. “If I got my head out of my ass sooner, I swear I would’ve found replacements the second I knew,” he says, and Steve laughs.
“I know you would’ve,” he says, all fond and soft, “you’re good like that.”
“Let me make it up to you? I can touch you all I want now,” Eddie says, waggling his silver-covered fingers in front of Steve’s face.
Steve interlocks their hands and leans in to kiss him, slow and sweet. “Looking forward to it, Eds.”
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xxsabitoxx · 2 months
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Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z
Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)
Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)
A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 
Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 
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devilfic · 5 months
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❝late-bloomer❞
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plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
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Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
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It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
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luvrgrlellie · 7 months
Text
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gf!ellie headcannons
warnings: smut
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controversial but i think gf!ellie only really calls you babe/baby. she calls you other things occasionally, but knowing ellie I think she would find a lot of typical pet names cringe (unless she’s saying it teasingly during sex ie. princess 😫 for her pillow princess) (or doll if she’s feeling cocky)
gf!ellie who’s ALWAYS cold. that girl has terrible circulation and is constantly sticking her feet under your butt or her hands up your shirt/down your pants to warm them up
“ouch els you’re freezing!!! why do you have ice cubes for hands?”
“idk but i dooooo know i have a space heater for a gf so it doesn’t really matter”
gf!ellie lovessss hearing you talk about your interests/hobbies/passions. she could sit there forever just listening to you ramble and watching your eyes gleam with excitement.
gf!ellie who loves taking you shopping and watching you try things on. you’re like her own little doll that she gets to dress up.
“oh my god babeeee i need to see you in this. go put it on.”
“holy shit - fuck you look so good. yeah give me a spin. god you look so fine.”
of course gf!ellie also spoils the shit out of you on these trips whenever you let her.
“no really els - I don’t need it, it’s fine!”
“it’s not about needing anything. you look so fucking hot in that dress and I wanna buy it for you. cmon let me spoil my girl.”
gf!ellie who loves to doodle with you snuggled up next to her. one of her favorite pastimes is cuddling up in bed with you at her side and her sketchbook in hand.
gf!ellie who’s a terrible cook but tried really hard in the beginning for you. she wanted to impress you by preparing a homecooked meal for your third date, but it turned out terrible. she knew you were a keeper when you took a bite and tried to pretend to like it, but then immediately came clean in the gentlest way possible because you didn’t wanna lie to her but also didn’t want her to think you didn’t appreciate the gesture.
“ellie, have you ever made this before”
“damn it’s that bad huh?”
“no, no! okay well. i will say the chicken is a little under done. and the vegetable are a little overdone. but besides that it’s really good!!”
gf!ellie who appreciates when you take over in the kitchen for the rest of the relationship. not only do you whip up the most delicious meals for her on the daily, but also look incredibly adorable doing it in your little apron with your scrunched-up concentrated face. she loves hugging you from behind to see what her cute little housewife is cooking her - squeezing your hips, rocking you back and forth, and kissing on your neck to tease you.
gf!ellie who’s uncharacteristically nervous to meet your parents. you’ve never seen her anxious like that but she just wanted really wanted to make sure that they like her. she brings flowers and some store bought cookies, but little does he know that ellie’s kind heart and love for you will win them over just fine <3
gf!ellie who knows you can handle yourself but is still hella protective of you and will knock out anyone who looks at you wrong. all you have to do is say the word.
protective gf!ellie who has mixed feelings on PDA. she really likes having her hands on you so that everyone knows your her’s, but she‘s also aware how gross and disgusting men are and how they fetishize wlw. so out of protection for you she tries to keep it toned down and unless it’s necessaryyyy (she’s tired of the stares and needs to mark her territory)
protective gf!ellie always making sure you kept your drink in your hand at all times at parties.
*drunk you getting ready to put your drink down in some random spot*
*ellie intercepting it to hold for you instead* “nopeee I got it.”
protective gf! ellie watches how much you’re drinking and cuts you off when you’ve clearly had enough
just recently posted an ellie’s kinks headcannons if y’all wanna go check it out 😏😏😏😏, so i’m not gonna go into hella detail of what gf!ellie likes in bed but let me tell ya’ll this
gf!ellie just loves teasing you. she loves how desperate you get when she drags the tip of the strap from your clit down to your hole, making you think she’s FINALLY gonna fuck you and then bringing it back up to your clit again. watching you squirm and beg her to just put it in never fails to put on smirk on your face.
“what’s the matter baby? can’t be patient? need my cock inside you that bad huh?
“if you want it so bad you’re gonna have to beg. let me hear it baby. tell me exactly what you want or you’re not getting it.” she lives to make you say every little dirty thing you want her to do to you, out loud, several times until she finally gives in. but if you do as she says she’d literally do anything you want. obsessed with you is what that girl is
loves hearing you moan and whine and beg her to fuck you but also loves covering your mouth with her hand or stuffing your panties into your mouth to shut you up. and then trying to make you talk to her when you clearly can’t.
“what’s that? sorry babe i can’t understand you.”
gf!ellie is possessive asf during sex too. whatever she’s calling you, she’s putting my in front of it. like….
“MY good girl”
“MY pussy”
“MY little slut” 😋
gf!ellie is just the bestest ever, always putting her girl first and treating her like a damn queen :)
honestly I could write so many more of these and i didn’t know where to stop so lmk if you want a part 2!!
xoxo,
a ;)
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mochinomnoms · 2 months
Note
*reads the octa kinks post*
Omg. Mating season Azul got me in his horny tentacle grip.
Like omg. Just.. just... *squeals* the things I would let that man do to me.
Just imagine mating season comes and Azul is just so damn needy. He's taking you wherever and whenever he can. On his desk, over his desk, against his door, in the shower, in the tub. You find out how good his strength actually is when he's got you bent like a pretzel, fingers digging into your hips as he's got you hoisted up and working you over. If only he had this much stamina in his PE class. But you're just a way more fascinating topic I suppose.
Praise him, praise him and tell him how amazing he's making you feel. How much you love when he works his hands on you. He'll have you like putty as he prepared you. He loves it, he also loves it when you're so blissed out that all you can do is moan for him. Call his name. Do it.
Let's not forget he still actually has to attend classes so this mad lad is horny gripping through them. Maybe he gets so wound up that he sneaks you off to a random classroom for a quickie. Has you bent over a desk or you give him a blow job to help. Don't worry. The man knows a good cleanup spell(you can't tell me he doesn't) he's not so cruel to send you off reeking of sex. Although.... Maybe he enjoys sending you off with his scent lingering on your skin. Sends you off with a pretty scarf wrapped around your neck that has his cologne. What a lovely little reminder to the others that you're taken, and maybe it helps hide any little incriminating marks(if you're into that)
That's not even touching on his mer form yet. He has you in a shallow pool, or maybe he's given you a nice long air breathing potion because now you're in a small cove nestled somewhere safe from prying eyes. Maybe it's nice and dark and the only thing you can see is the pale blue of Azul's eyes or maybe you watch as the bioluminescent patterns dance along his skin(I love me bioluminescent octatrio) Don't worry, you've got eight strong limbs working you over, each one truly seems to have a mind of their own as they work you over. This man, he's leaning back and just seems to be enjoying the show until you're begging him to fuck you properly. Who is he to deny your wish, he's such a benevolent mate, now isn't he?
orz Azul just gimme one chance pls I BEG!
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Azul's never had good stamina, in the sea or out, and it shows when you're intimate with him. It's why he focuses in on making you come via his hands and mouth so much before actually getting to the main event. Poor Azulito only has one orgasm in him before he tires out, but it's a very yummy one when he's with you, and by the time he's actually fucking you, your bones are all jelly, and you're blissed out.
It's a very pleasant surprise when his mating season first comes around after you two get together. When he was single, Azul would get a bit feverish, hot and bothered, and more irritable than normal. Usually, he'd just manage with some potions and rest, but once he's gotten a mate, it's like a switch flipped in his brain.
Instead of being mildly inconvenienced, his entire body is heated and sensitive to touch, yours specifically. It's as if he's taken a high dosage of an aphrodisiac and the only cure is your gummy insides. If you two never had quickies before, you sure as hell do now. He's using you over and over on any surface in his room, office, even in a nearby empty classroom if the need to breed (ha) hits. It's enough of an issue that you both get a stern talking to by the teachers, who are recommending that you two take a rest of his mating season off as to not distract the other studies. They'll make sure to have someone bring your work over, just please go back to Azul's dorm, the beastmen and fae students are starting to complain about you two and the scent of sex.
Once he's got you in the water after that, you're getting bred over and over again and again until he's positive his seed is taken (even if you can't get pregnant). So, uh, hope you have good stamina at least, or else you're gonna have a tough time.
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Text
Enough With The Schemes!
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Ngl I kinda had this in my drafts just because I didn't know how it'd ever fit into the story but I decided to fix it up and post it after @vespers-night-sky's fanart for the "Get Off My Screen" Series- the direct continuation and reader's death is in the works folks, I've just been trying to figure out the pacing ahsojskqjds- I am not gonna be a Hazbin Hotel episode jkjkjk Anyway, thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL for the support with the series and think of these little things as filler episodes before the big reveal. Anyways, as usual- happy reading and I hope you all enjoy! The series in it's entirety can be found on my blog under the #Get Off My Screen Series
You didn't know how much more of Vox's shenanigans you could take.
First it had been the wallpaper war-
Until now you couldn't stop his face from being a permanent fixture to your devices-
But it was fine, he could have that!
You lamented over not having [Favorite Fictional Character Name] in your backgrounds anymore but you know what it was fineeeee-
You honestly couldn't tell if having his glitchy grinning face was an upgrade or cringe central.
Then he figured out how to absolutely lag out your computer at some point.
You seriously wanted to punch his monitor head from frustration because of it.
Especially when he had the nerve to laugh at your irritation-
This asshole-!
Now, he was absolutely blowing up your phone and devices with memes or just anything under the sun.
Not that messing with the notification settings would help-
Because somehow he'd figured out how to completely bypass those too.
If this was why that Alastor guy and Vox had a tiff you could practically relate.
Your phone just continued to buzz and vibrate on the table next to you.
Not that you could be fucked with it at the moment trying to cram a paper your professor assigned last BLOODY MINUTE!
That was of course until the Vox desktop companion grabbed the cursor and just didn't let you have it back.
As much as you tried, the darn thing only emoted angrily and refused to give you back the damn arrow.
Your eye twitched as you tried to maintain your cool, only to get up from the desk and scream obscenities to no one in particular.
The day had been a particularly bad one and you really just couldn't deal with Vox's bullshit right now.
"Helloooooo! HELLOOOOOOO?! Earth to (Y/N)! Pick up your fucking phone!!!"
Oh for the love of god he better not have changed your ringtone too-
You rubbed your face in an attempt to calm down before finally checking your phone.
Honestly you expected it to be something really stupid, but seeing what his messages were about made you feel slightly guilty for ignoring him the whole day.
Vox grew used to the routine you both had, so it was no surprise that your sudden inactivity drove his anxiety up the walls.
Poor guy thought of all the worst possible cases that could've happened to you-
He'd greet you in the morning and you would always reply afterwards while eating breakfast.
Save for the times you'd gotten sick or just felt under the weather.
After all, you had classes in the morning and he had broadcasts to air.
You also hated being tardy, similar to how he saw punctuality as something extremely important.
The two of you would intermittently chat within the day and tell each other if you had work to do so you both could leave each other alone for a designated time.
Vox often didn't adhere to this, but he'd always keep his distractions to a minimum if you asked.
Actually neither did you, sometimes you'd be the one spam sending him anything you could think of just to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Then you would wish him a good night's rest and he would eventually reply back with a silly gif or emoji that bode you the same.
He just grew used to it, the familiarity of your companionship in his monotonous day to day.
So whenever something fell apart in the routine you both had, Vox couldn't help but worry that something happened to you.
Whether you'd gotten sick or just anything worse-
It didn't sit well with him when you didn't reply to his morning message like you often did.
Constantly checking his phone for any updates from you to find nothing.
Zilch, none, zero.
The worrying feeling only grew as time ticked onwards.
Even at your busiest you would still shoot him a memo saying that you were.
Which only made this radio silence-
Haha see what I did there-
Worse than it really was.
So what did Vox do?
Absolutely blow up your phone and devices trying to get your attention.
Only when he realized you were doing something on your laptop did he let the desktop companion he made for you interfere.
Not that he even really understood what he'd stuck his hands into.
"What the hell even happened to you today? You didn't even reply to any of my fucking messages! I thought something happened to you!"
"Well SORRY I couldn't reply to your terminally online ass. I was busy dealing with my shitty assignment workload."
The TV overlord quickly picked up that you weren't in a pleasant mood.
The way you typed was just a dead giveaway.
Glancing up at his schedule, Vox notified his secretary to cancel a few of his meetings before he replied to you.
"Anything I can help you with? I'm free for a good few hours."
You were taken aback by his offer, every time Vox would help you he didn't even bother asking.
He just straight up started editing whatever you were working on no matter what you said.
Who was this guy and what did he do with Vox-
"You aren't trying to bullshit me are you? Cuz I'm not in the mood."
"I can tell dollface, let me guess- your shitty professor again?"
You ended up ranting about the abruptly given assignment and just a bunch of other things that slowly ruined your day.
Vox just agreed with you here and there, shooting one word replies or emojis to show he was still listening.
All the while he made the desktop companion let go of your cursor and he looked over your work.
Wow your writing was still absolutely shit-
"So now I've gotta submit this fucking paper before midnight or I'll get a 40% deduction."
"Don't worry about it, we can finish this in an hour. Anything else?"
It was an economics paper you were struggling on and this was Vox you were talking to.
You shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew his way around the topic.
You glanced up from your phone and already saw him editing your essay.
Why didn't you just ask him for help sooner??
"I think I can handle the rest. Thanks anyway, mind if I put on some music while I write?"
"As long as I get to pick some of the songs."
"Deal."
It shouldn't have done anything really.
You shouldn't be having this funny feeling in your gut.
A fuzzy warmth that bloomed because Vox was so quick to drop everything and help you.
Even if it was just something minor like your paper.
Still, you couldn't help but smile as you put on some relaxing tunes and typed away alongside your favorite digital companion.
Just like that, you both melted back into the usual cycle of talking and working.
A casual harmony that you were more than happy to just live in for the moment.
BONUS:
Both you and Vox were just casually chatting by the time his secretary called him away for the scheduled broadcast.
Of course, you wished you could see what he was actually doing but stopped before you could say so.
Instead you just wished Vox well in the broadcast.
"Of course doll, and you know me! I'll be just fine."
Well, his broadcast was going fine-
Until his screen suddenly glitched and randomly played a tune from your playlist.
Had he forgotten to unlink himself from your devices?
It took a few seconds for Vox to compose himself but his show thankfully went on without another hitch.
You on the other hand?
You were just having a personal concert in your room to unwind while waiting for Vox to come back.
So it came as a surprise when the song you played randomly paused and made the Bluetooth disconnect sound.
You didn't connect it to anything-?
Though your questions were eventually answered when Vox blew up your phone again.
This time you couldn't help but laugh.
You were friends with a demonic overlord sure-
But it was hard to fear him when he was such a doofus.
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silversodas · 3 months
Text
Interesting Alastor Insights
I think I may have figured out what was up Alastor’s ass in Dead Beat Dad. On one hand it may be a deeper issue that I am missing some context for, but I actually think it’s a little simpler then we think.
Even before Lucifer arrived, Alastor was clearly not happy about him coming over, and yes Alastor was 100% full of shit in the dad off song, BUT! Something note worthy is that he was not only being possessive of the Hotel (claiming to be its host and even greeting Lucifer as the master of the house does) but is also weirdly possessive of Charlie
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And right down to the “fuck you” to Lucifer’s face it was projecting “get your feet off of my damn coffee table and get outta my house” energy. At first I was wondering what crawled up Alastor’s ass and died, and then Hell’s greatest Dad starts playing and..
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“Who’s been faithful as a Nun? Who’s been here since day one?”
And it dawned on me and I was like “Alastor, why are you acting like your being replaced?” And Charlie is just as confused at Alastor’s behavior, like this came out of nowhere. Apparently Alastor was determined to show Lucifer who the Genie of this bottle is. But I didn’t believe it at first, I was like “nah it has to be something else” but then Mimzy gave some VARY interesting insight
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When Mimzy first arrived, Alastor has a look that says (oh this is all I need right now) but he still seems happy to see her
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Like holy shit, he happily reciprocates the hug, but that’s not to surprising if you know who Mimzy is if you have been fallowing Viv for a while
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When she mentioned that he frequented the club (speakeasy)that she preformed in I was like “oh! They are drinking buddies!” Drinking Buddies are someone you generally only know the fun side of because you only hang out together at the bar, but Mimzy highlights a different side to their relationship
“Put on some Jazz, and pour a few fingers of Rye, and he becomes a kitten”
This gives me insight that while they were alive, she wasn’t just his drinking buddy and dance partner, she was his comfort zone. The way she phrased this sentence, made it sound like this was something she used to do for Alastor when they were alive, maybe she was a soothing presence as well as an entertaining one in Alastor’s life. But bar friends can sometimes be pretty high maintenance friends outside the bar, actually I think a lot of us have had something close to a friend like Mimzy in our lives. Apparently she is so bad that even Husk is concerned enough about Alastor to try and talk to him about her
“You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs something. That bitch is trouble, and who knows what demon she fucked with to come running to you this time”
Alastor’s response threw me for a loop
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“It’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry Husker, who would cross me?”
So Alastor is not immune to having toxic friends? I always assumed he would just drop anyone who became to much trouble, this is an interesting surprise. And on top of that he’s…an enabler!? Huh…that is super interesting to know. Putting a pin in the rest of this interaction for another post because there is a lot to unpack with husk and alastor. Except for the being on a leash thing because it made me realize something.
What if the reason he felt upstaged by Lucifer was not because Lilith told him to keep him away (yeah I am subscribing to the Lilith theory, it’s to much to Be a coincidence) but because he is legitimately afraid of no longer being needed by Charlie? What if, if he isn’t needed by Charlie then he has to go back to wherever he was the last 7 years? Everyone assumes he is free because he acts as such, but is he? Like real question, what if he was a straight up gift to Charlie in a way? Even if it was a “look after my daughter” command I would still call that sending a gift.
And oh man, what if he was suppose to tell the whole truth to Charlie but gave the whole, “I am here for entertainment” speech instead.
And your probably thinking, Charlie wouldn’t tell him to leave. Yeah but does Alastor know that? And he probably thinks Lilith might call him back anyway if he is not needed but just hanging out. But as we have seen, he cant even except his own situation
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I will unpack this whole encounter later, but for real I don’t even think he is that mad at husk, he was mad at the reminder that his soul doesn’t belong to him any more. Like look at his face, it’s the most upset we have ever seen him, and it’s so detailed. He looks enraged, but also hurt at the same time. He and Charlie are not friends, yet, but I think he does feel some what safe at the hotel and maybe that’s enough for now
I also think there is some stock in Alastor hating that Lucifer is a bad dad theory, because that contempt was so raw and he did calm the fuck down a little bit during the “more then anything” song
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But those are my random insights of Alastor, there were more but this is already to long I just hope it’s coherent
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starsainzjr · 4 months
Text
Award Season
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x hair stylist!reader Faceclaim: Jaylen Barron
✷✷✷✷✷
yourusername Salon de Platine, Monte-Carlo
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Liked by kristin_ess, dakotafanning, charles_leclerc and 31,027 others
yourusername Last minute award season prep!
View all 7,291 comments
kristin_ess So you're setting up your station next to mine right?
yourusername You realize the amount of chaos this would cause, right? dakotafanning Yeah but fun chaos
amandlastenberg When I tell you I screamed
yourusername When I tell you I can't wait
charles_leclerc Do I get a spot in the chair?
yourusername Of course you do, mon trésor charles_leclerc 🥰
yn.wag16 Patiently waiting for mother to give us Charles red carpet content
bananas_for_leclerc Pls give us the red carpet content 🙏
charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 728,474 others
charles_leclerc Rest and recharge before the crazy
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pierregasly YOU LEFT WITHOUT ME THIS MORNING TÊTE DE BITE
charles_leclerc You were late, I have a beautiful girlfriend, what else was I supposed to do? yourusername Mon trésor, you make me blush ☺️
yourusername Calm before the storm. No one I would rather whether it with
charles_leclerc I love you so much, mon cœur
yn.wag16 We are going to get FED this winter
lechairs_love What I wouldn't do to be on a yacht with Charles yn.wag16 We can only wish to be Yn
bananas_for_leclerc I'm on the floor, no one talk to me
yourusername Los Angeles
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Liked by charles_leclerc, amandlastenberg, kristin_ess and 34,193 others
yourusername Award season's here! Next stop: Oscars
View all 2,106 comments
dakotafanning I owe you my LIFE
yourusername Girl, I have never seen that many broken bobby pins
kristin_ess Coffee. Immediately. Now.
yourusername AMEN charles_leclerc I'll buy, come on ladies bananas_for_leclerc Charles is fr the only thing keeping this group going rn
amandlastenberg I'm taking you with me to every single set from here out you are a GODDESS
yourusername As long as you keep supplying me with cookies
yn.wag16 MOTHER
yn.wag16 Oscars Charles content incoming
bananas_for_leclerc The way that I will simply pass away
dakotafanning The Oscars
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Liked by yourusername, amandlastenberg, charles_leclerc and 809,347 others
dakotafanning 5 minutes ago @/yourusername was redoing @/charles_leclerc's hair for the ninth time and now look at her
View all 58,349 comments
yourusername And he's still not ready 🫠
charles_leclerc I am to! yourusername Then why are we all waiting by the elevator on you? landonorris She got you on that one bananas_for_leclerc He better look amazing with how long he's getting ready for
amandlastenberg We look GOOD tonight
kristin_ess Yes babes!
yn.wag16 Literally about to vibrate out of my chair with excitement for tonight oh my GOD
dakotasfan The fact that they're all posting each other tonight instead of themselves I'm going to sob
bananas_for_leclerc GRASPING for any Charles red carpet content I can get my hands on PLEASE I am no longer asking
yourusername The Oscars
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Liked by charles_leclerc, kristin_ess, dakotafanning and 41,204 others
yourusername Not him being the reason we were the last ones on the carpet
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charles_leclerc I was not, you speak lies
yourusername No I don't amandlastenberg No she doesn't dakotafanning No she doesn't kristin_ess No she doesn't charles_leclerc ...damn
pierregasly So he can clean up
charles_leclerc I will hit you in the ass with the ball so hard next time we play padel you won't be able to sit down for a week yourusername ...damn
yn.wag16 IT'S HERE
yn.wag16 CHARLES RED CARPET CONTENT IS HERE
lechairs_love I can't.... I'm done... he looks like he's about to cause so much chaos in the first one
bananas_for_leclerc I can't breathe
charles_leclerc
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Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, amandlastenberg and 716,200 others
charles_leclerc Afterparties after afterparties yet she still manages to look gorgeous
View all 20,381 comments
yourusername Only because I have the world's best eye candy
charles_leclerc No I do dakotafanning y'all are making me feel incredibly alone
amandlastenberg It is four in the morning and we're just getting back to the hotel now
yourusername Signs of a good party charles_leclerc Party? Singular?
pierregasly I'm coming along next year, no arguments
charles_leclerc Invitation is only plus one 🤷 Be better
bananas_for_leclerc I need to get myself a Charles...
yn.wag16 GOD I'm so feral over them
lechairs_love If you'll excuse me I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight
yourusername Monaco
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yourusername Back home and ready to relax
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charles_leclerc My favorite audience
yourusername Play for me again, Charlie charles_leclerc Anything for you, mon cœur
amandlastenberg Bye you're adorable
yourusername ☺️
yn.wag16 GOD
yn.wag16 I can't do this anymore
✷✷✷✷✷
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months
Text
Watch What You Say
Anon Request: Hahahaha I rlly want a concept where reader gets pissed with jack about the captions of his Instagram stories he’s written lately lmao
Warnings: language, references to condoms lol
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"Jackman."
Jack's head shot up to look at you as you entered your shared hotel suite. He was laying on the bed resting before his Vegas performance, and Urban and Cope were relaxing on the couch across the room.
"Ooh, you're in trouble." Cope teased Jack in a sing song tone of voice. The room could tell you were pissed about something, and while your boyfriend dreaded those times, it was pure entertainment for his friends.
"Dude, shut the hell up", Jack tossed one of the pillows from the bed in Cope's direction, but ended up hitting Urban square in the face instead. "I'm not even involved in this!" Urban yelled as he wrapped the pillow in his arms, shielding himself from your impending rage.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Jack sat up in the bed, throwing his feet off the side. You pulled out your phone and scrolled quickly to Jack's Instagram story.
"I wanna try a 1950s condom", you read his caption aloud, your face in a permanent scowl. Jack was always posting what you referred to as "dumb shit" on Instagram, and usually you found it funny, but lately his Instagram stories were just over the top. "And then you just had to post two photos of vintage condoms, didn't you?"
A smirk climbed on Jack's face; he thought it was hilarious, but it quickly dropped when you threw daggers at him. "What? I thought it was funny," he whispered under his breath but you heard every word.
"What the hell goes through your mind when you post?" Jack opened his mouth, but you held up a hand to stop him before he got a word out. "You know what? I don't even wanna know. You know my mom follows you on Instagram, right? And every time you post something, she texts me asking to explain what you mean. She wanted to know why they refer to you as 'Missionary Jack'." You placed your hands on your hips. Jack could tell you were serious, but if he was anything, he was an instigator.
"I mean, I can show her better than I can tell her." Jack shrugged nonchalantly. Urban snickered, but stopped when you snapped at him. Jack barely had a second to laugh at his own joke before you had snatched the pillow out of Urban's arms and were smacking him with it.
"I'M.PISSED.AT.YOU.AND.YOU'RE.MAKING.A.SLEEP.WITH.MY.MOM.JOKE?!?!" You pummeled him with the pillow with each word, Jack cowering away from you. "Babe, stop! I was kidding!" You ignored him, continuing to hit him to get out your frustration with something that wouldn't get you 25 to life.
"Enough!" Jack was stronger than you, and took the opportunity to take the pillow from you when you were starting to get tired. You huffed at him as he stood up, placing his hands on your hips. "I'm sorry, I'll tone it down with the Instagram posts, okay?" He tried to lean in for a kiss, but you face palmed him. "Come on, don't be like that."
You allowed him to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You could never stay mad at him for long. "You better."
"When was your mom born, babe?", Jack asked as you snaked your hands around his shoulders, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. "Like 1975 or something, why?" You furrowed your brow at his question.
"Damn, I was hoping she would know someone who could help me start my vintage condom collection." Jack looked down at you, quickly seeing your face turn sour. You pushed him off of you, hard, making Jack clutch his chest. "Ow, fuck!"
"Don't be surprised if all of your shit is in the hallway when you get back from your show tonight, Jack!" You stormed out of the room, flipping him off as you left.
"I'm serious babe! It might be worth something one day!" Jack called out to you just before the door slammed shut. He plopped back on the bed and pulled out his phone again.
Knowing he was in the clear, Urban leaned over to Cope. "She terrifies me."
Cope nodded, his eyes wide. "Me too, man. Me too."
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retrocesosdestacion · 7 months
Text
SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS. | mapi león
mapi león x reader
genre: not fluff at all, accidental confession, teenager love.
warnings: a bit of headcanon, reader being a stupid curious, mapi confessing unintentionally, also mapi being an assertive/passive person.
notes: i had this prompt when i was cooking an egg. dios im really sorry for making u guys wait too long, also i feel like this is the worst writing I've ever done in my life.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You are secretly Mapi's love and you have negative impressions about her.
But that ended when Maria accidentally left her sketchbook on the bench at the locker room.
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“ If I had a flower for every time I thought of you... I could walk through my garden forever. ”
Tennyson.
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❝ Damn. Mapi, you should become an artist. ❞ From the other side of the locker room, you could hear Pina's lips praising the spanish's drawings once again.
It was already the fifth time that day that someone had praised the scribbles in that notebook. And you too, but only in your head. You didn't even have the courage to go there and see the drawings.
Two years ago you were transferred to Barcelona. Everything was normal, you made friends, adapted to the Spain style, adapted to new rules.
But you didn't adapt to Maria León. You didn't have the slightest ability to go up to her and have a chat lasting more than two minutes.
Normally you just greet her, that's when you don't even look at her face. Anyone who saw the two of you together would pinky swear that hated each other.
This was all because in your little mind, Mapi had the greatest disinterest in you. After all, you came to this conclusion when you noticed that the defender always ran away from the conversation when you arrives.
However, over time, you accepted this treatment from the spanish woman, even if you were curious to understand the player. You even told this whole situation to Ona, your best friend.
But it was always the same dilemma: “Relax, she’s shy. “ or “ Mapi has difficulty meeting new people. “
Yet that never made sense, after all, Mapi is anything but bashful.
It became a huge snowball since you never bothered to go talk to her. Therefore, currently your relationship with Mapi is completely lacking affection.
And it was just with you.
Claudia, for example, was one of the lucky ones. She was glued to the blonde's side, attentively observing each page of the spanish woman's small notebook with the greatest freedom and comfort.
At that moment, the defender had both feet on the bench, so she could rest the notebook on her knees. Mapi slowly leafed through the drawings for her friend once again.
❝ Yo ya te dije, who knows in a few years. ❞ (I already told you.) León reply to the other spanish woman's compliment with a very hopeful tone, as part of her dream was to be a tattoo artist.
As always, you just looked at the two girls talking, as you sat, untying your boots.
❝ If you look for longer, you will have bad luck. ❞ Ona mocked your indeterminate stare. ❝ If you’re so interested, go there. ❞ She states while taking off her training uniform.
❝ Madness. She doesn't like me and you want me to suddenly get there? ❞ You threw those words into the air so quickly that Ona took a while to formulate something.
❝ Why do you think she hates you? ❞ Your friend countered.
❝ I've told you thousands of times, Ona. She looks at me dirty, ignores me, she doesn't even want to talk to me even though I'm her training partner! ❞ You justify while gesturing nervously.
❝ Stop being fucking neurotic. ❞ The spanish woman rolled her eyes, finishing putting on her post-workout clothes. ❝ Ve allí, siéntate a su lado y descubrirás por qué te trata así. ❞ (Go there, sit next to her and you will find out why she treats you like that.) Ona stated.
You only knew the basics of spanish, deciphering what the defender had said would take a while. ❝ Huh, what? Find out what? ❞
Ona didn't respond, just giving you a stupid smile and a wink.
Slowly, the oldest left your side and walked towards Mapi and Claudia. The moment she got there, Batlle poked Pina's shoulder and approached, murmuring something in her ear.
❝ What the fuck are you doing?! ❞ You whispered to yourself, automatically standing up; scared and surprised.
Suddenly, you felt the greatest penetration of looking in your direction: Claudia Pina looked at you as if she knew all your secrets, giving you chills.
She smiled a huge and mischievous smile, raised her arm and waved it, calling you over.
Before you went, the only thing you observed was Mapi's embarrassed and awkward manner, grumbling at the two spanish women for calling you.
You thought for seconds before taking the step to go there. A whirlwind of thoughts ran through your mind, like a river heading straight for the waterfall.
What if you are a nuisance to her? What if she leaves the moment you get there?
You were very worried about the relationship with someone you don't even are intimate with.
You worry about the image you give to a person that don't even want to be your friend.
Thus, your heart began to run a marathon from the moment you started your very slow steps towards Mapi León.
Maybe you were afraid of hurting her, but at the same time yourself. As if your feelings were bubbling for the defender and you didn't want to ruin everything.
In your peripheral vision, the only notable details were María closing her notebook as quickly as a middle school student after the last bell, Claudia and Ona smiling goofily and pointing at the defender.
❝ What was it? ❞ Those were your first words when you reached the other side of the locker room, completely looking away from Mapi and just focusing on the other two.
❝ You're the only one on the team who hasn't seen Mapi's drawings, right? ❞ Claudia gave the first word, pushing León's shoulder with her elbow.
You didn't even bother to answer correctly, just opening a painful smile.
❝ Yes, I think so. ❞
After you responded, Mapi frowned, rolling her eyes. This only made you more certain that León actually hated you.
❝ But there's no need to show it. I mean, I'm not interested. ❞ They were the stupidest words that came out of your mouth.
The shine in Mapi's eyes slowly faded with each word that left your lips, the spanish woman's fingers ran to the back of her neck, uncomfortable. At this point, you should be sure that you almost hurt the girl.
❝ Don't be like that. Come on Mapi, show it. ❞ Ona finally said something in the midst of the discomfort of that conversation, lightly patting the other spanish woman on the head.
❝ I'll show you later, I need to pack my things. ❞ Maria came up with the most false excuse possible, since her things were almost one hundred percent ready. León's fingers rested on the slap, giving Ona a dirty look.
Your eyes fell on Claudia and Ona, indignant at all of this.
But you didn't know why. It wasn't as if the lack of communication between two companions would cause such great discomfort.
There was something more, you could feel it. Such something else that even Ona hides from you.
❝ Dios mío, esto es horrible. You two look like children who don't know how to talk to each other. ❞ (Oh my god, this is horrible.) Claudia gave her opinion amidst the silence.
❝ Son como dos chicas enojadas. ❞ (They're like two stupid girls. ) Batlle added.
Mapi stood up delicately, pulling the bag that was previously on the floor to the bench and opening it. ❝ Could you two shut up and get out of here, wouldn't you? ❞
The spontaneous rudeness really took you by surprise, mainly because the defender was staring at the other two, but not at you.
Pina raised her hands in defense, expressing a mere comical sadness on her face. ❝ Right. ❞
The same thing for Ona, who reached for the strap of her sports bag and put it on her left shoulder. ❝ Come on, Claudia. And don't be stupid with [reader]. ❞
❝ Que se jodan ustedes dos. ❞ (Fuck you two.) Mapi grumbled as she mock-rifled through her clothes.
Ona grabbed Claudia's arm and pulled her tightly to her feet, slowly dispersing herself from you and Mapi over time, killing the last few minutes. ❝ See you later, [reader]. ❞
Your eyes screamed for help to leave together, following the two girls until they left the main door.
Okay, now you were alone with the girl you were most afraid of.
Gradually, some people and groups would leave within minutes. Silence now, which had previously been scattered conversations, was prevailing, and that was delicious on the one hand.
After all, you loved being alone at times like this. But not with Maria.
You continued standing until Mapi offered you the bench next to her, and you did so. When you laid eyes on the spanish woman, you noticed her fingers pressing against her own temples, circling fingerprints there.
❝ I'm sorry about them. They are two idiots. ❞ León murmured as she took her fingers back to the bag, closing the zipper.
❝ Alright, no problem. I'm used to it. ❞ You responded with a typical defensive tone, unaccustomed to this type of conversation with her.
Your fingers tapped upper thigh, nervous and anxious, waiting for some miracle.
Momentarily, the spanish woman's brown globes rested on you, followed by a big sigh.
❝ I'm sorry if I'm stupid with you. And it's also bad if I didn't show you the drawings, it's just that— ❞ The defender was interrupted when Patri shouted her name.
❝ Hey, Mapi! ❞ The spanish woman appeared through the door of the main hallway. ❝ Can you check for me if my boots are dropped on the field? ❞
Maria looked at you with a roll of her optics, also accompanied by a tiny and shy smile. ❝ I'll be right back. ❞
The spanish woman slowly went to the gate that connected the changing room and the field, leaving you there freely in the area.
A dead silence remained there, there was no one else but the two of you inside that locker room, and now, only you.
Your body was still warm from training, but it could be for countless reasons, maybe because of your sudden meeting with Mapi, because of the fear of everything that happens in other conversations, happening now.
Eyes slowly took in every detail of the locker room: the ceiling, the floor, all the other stalls and even your bag on the other side.
But your orbs left for your side, where Mapi's unopened bag accidentally was. And of course, the damn sketchbook.
No, no. This is terrible, a lack of privacy. Your desire to leaf through that notebook was greater, but you should be aware.
It was only a matter of time before Mapi came back and finally opened that notebook, there was no point in leafing through it before then.
But despite everything, you were a very, very curious person.
❝ Damn. ❞ You muttered to yourself, intertwining your fingers so that you unconsciously wouldn't reach for the notebook.
But, well... Your eyes darted from side to side, making sure Maria wasn't there.
Your hand rested on the notebook, at the same time your heart accelerated so quickly as a result of your comportment. You should go back.
Slowly, you opened it enough so you could peek at the drawings. Incredibly, they were drawings of outlooks and Mapi's cats.
Despite everything, it wasn't that bad. ❝ Damn. ❞ You mumbled.
Suddenly, a folded sheet of paper fell from the middle of the pages of the notebook, falling to the floor. Your face produced a confused expression until the moment you reached the sheet.
At the same time that you were almost putting the sheet back from where it had fallen, you unfolded it.
Your heartbeat increased from the moment you caught sight of your name written there, along with a drawing of yourself and several doodles in the surrounding area.
Initials together, stick drawings of the two of you together that you were sure Claudia and Ona had scribbled, your name was written in every color there was.
There, maybe you realized why Mapi never showed you the notebook. Why Mapi hated being by your side when she was with the girls.
You could feel your face burn, turning red little by little, until it was like a pepper.
Immediately, you threw your hands up to your face, along with the sheet. You breathed once, twice and three times until you understood the situation.
❝ Shit. ❞ You mumbled to yourself with a muffled tone, still with your face hidden in your hands.
Your body slowly slid down the cabin wall, rethinking all the impressions you always had of Mapi.
You folded the sheet back and hid it in the notebook again.
Suddenly, Maria's figure slowly appeared in the locker room, mainly due to the sound of her footsteps.
Your torso rose, you became so desperate that you completely forgot to let go of the notebook in your hand.
Mapi slowly stopped walking and stopped in the middle of the locker room the moment her eyes fell on your hand with the notebook.
Slowly, her lips opened ready to say something. However, the spanish's internal desperation probably prevented this.
❝ I didn't see anything, I swear. ❞ Was the only thing you could say before throwing the notebook back onto the bench and waving your hands in defense.
Maria completely changed her route, walking quickly towards you. The moment she reached you, the player grabbed your hands and squeezed.
❝ Puedo explicarlo, en serio. ❞ (I can explain it, seriously.) Mapi stuttered between words and even forgot to say them in english.
The spanish woman's face didn't even bother to hide her embarrassment. You could feel the player's fingers trembling and of course, the strong desire to cry.
❝ I thought it was cute. ❞ In the midst of all the tension, these were your stupid words. Giving a short smile, which perhaps calmed León.
❝ What? ❞ Mapi asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
❝ The drawing. ❞
❝ But you said you didn't see anything. ❞ Maybe you didn't expect her to be so naive.
❝ I'm not going to lie, I saw everything. ❞ You answer with a defensive intonation, after all, you had no idea what would happen from now on. ❝ Even those scribbles on the sid— ❞
❝ That was the girls idea. ❞ Mapi justified it so quickly, was probably true.
It was at that moment that you realized that María León was not angry or disgusted with you. Mapi was actually in love with you and was ashamed to admit it.
This all explained the insults and scandals she made whenever the girls played with her. You were the concern of all the jokes.
❝ Right. First breathe. ❞ You advised the spanish girl to calm down, after all, she was shaking more than anything.
❝ Let me explain, please. I don't want you to get it wrong. ❞ Mapi begged to hold an explaination.
❝ Go ahead. ❞
❝ I'm not some kind of stalker, okay? I only drew you because, well… Because I like you and I thought you were pretty. ❞ The defender gets confused in her own words.
You were sure that wasn't what she wanted, Mapi didn't want to confess like that stupid way.
❝ But I completely understand if you think I'm crazy like that... ❞ Mapi slowly closed her eyes, trying to throw all the despair inside. ❝ Dios mío, ¿qué carajo estoy diciendo? ❞ (Oh my god, what the fuck am I saying?)
❝ Hey, it's okay... I guess. ❞ You tried to calm down from the moment you felt León's fingers slowly slip from your hands.
Your mind enfolded the sight of Mapi in front of you, it was the only thing you could pay attention to.
Heart felling affliction, a feeling full of pity for the whole situation that Maria went through made you think a lot.
While you had the wrong impression of her, Mapi couldn't control own feelings.
❝ I don't know what to say about all this. ❞ You produced a sentence where you could try to be understandable with it. ❝ I thought you hated me. ❞
❝ What? Why?! ❞ León was really shocked.
❝ Huh… You always sounded or looked ignorant to me. But it wasn't bad, I had the wrong impression. ❞ Your lips moved automatically, everything you kept about her these two years finally escaped.
Mapi gave a short smile, perhaps your words sounded funny. ❝ Yo nunca debí contarles a Ona y Claudia sobre ti. ❞ (I should never have told Ona and Claudia about you.) The spanish woman muttered to herself, but you still understood.
❝ And now knowing that you like me was such a turning point. ❞ You explained yourself without letting go of Mapi's hands for a second. ❝ By the way, about that… ❞
❝ No need to explain yourself, I'll understand if you don't reply— ❞
❝ No. I want it. I mean, I think you won my heart after seeing your drawings. ❞ Your typical comedic tone caused few laughs between the two of you.
❝ And also, it really hurt me to get the impression that you hated me. I've been making you a fool all this time. ❞ You continued.
Mapi León paid attention to every word that left your lips. There, you noticed how the player stopped shaking and stuttering, finally taking comfort.
❝ No. I understand, I would have that impression too if I saw all of this. ❞
❝ But I hope we can go back and start over from scratch. ❞ You looked for the solution.
Despite everything, Mapi was very understandable with words, she just needed time to express herself.
Suddenly, León's brown orbs looked to the side, perhaps worried about something. ❝ I think we better go, I need to tell Patri about the boots. ❞
Mapi let go of your hands, and for a moment you didn't like that feeling. The spanish woman's fingerprints grabbed the famous intriguing notebook, putting it back in her bag.
Initially she carried the bag on her shoulder, waiting for you to do the same. Your feet lifted and strained toward your own bag, but immediately returned to Mapi's side.
❝ If you want to start from scratch, come with me. I'll stop at a coffee shop before heading home. ❞ León opened a genuine smile, extending her right hand towards you.
You got the signal, and you did it. Your long fingerprints met Mapi's, intertwining them.
❝ Yes, please. ❞
Maybe you should leave everything in the hands of time and, gingerly, the two of you would transform disagreements into affection.
Gradually, your relationship with Mapi stopped being lack of love and became the fruit of devotion. Walking alongside her was the best opportunity for that.
❝ ¡Quiero un frappuccino, por favor! ❞ (I'd like a frappuccino, please!) You used the spanish words that you knew, asking with a great enthusiasm. After all, from now you would use that dialect a lot more.
Really more.
541 notes · View notes
frankenkyle19 · 6 months
Text
-The No Longer Virgin-
Kinktober Day 5: Virgin!Peter Maximoff x reader
word count: 4.3k
warnings/description: loss of virginity, handjobs, blowjobs, premature ejaculation, 69’ing, oral male and fem receiving, whiny Peter, slight sub!Peter, awkward Peter, cute consent, probably ooc Peter, sorry. 
posting two days early because I finished it and why not?
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Peter totally wasn’t insecure about anything ever. Him? Pfft, no. He was the most confident, not insecure person who ever lived. So what if he was a virgin? So what if he hadn’t actually ever gone all the way? Or gotten a blowjob.. or a handjob… or even any over the clothes touching…
That was besides the point! It didn’t matter- not like he actually cared. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. He was always down to clown it just… He hadn’t found the right person. Apparently being a mutant speedster wasn’t a turn on for most people. Who would have thought? 
Oh well. He’d lived his life this long without it, who’s going to say he couldn’t live the rest of his life being perfectly content with his hand or his stupid fleshlight? He’d live it’s not like- 
But oh when he saw you for the first time he lost his damn mind. Why were you so pretty? Why did you talk to him? Show him any sort of attention? Peter wasn’t used to it, and it immediately made his brain short circuit. He wasn’t the brightest in the bunch, but he knew you had to at least like him a little to want to hang around him.
 But why? Peter still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you actually wanted to hang out with him. Was it some form of pity? Did you feel bad for him? God he hoped not…
You two became fast friends, but Peter couldn’t help but want more. Not in a creepy way, just like a hey I’m in my 20’s and still a virgin and now that a girl is showing me attention my body is reacting like a teenage boy going through puberty-
God he needed to get a grip on himself. Get it together Peter! Keep it in your pants for Christ's sake. 
And of course what he didn’t know was that you loved teasing the hell out of him. Seeing his cheeks heat up and the way he stumbled over his words. It was priceless.
The first night you kissed Peter, he was positive he’d died and went to heaven, or was in some super realistic dream. There was just no way this was real. Why would you want to kiss him? Him of all people. 
But boy did he kiss back. His lips molded against yours perfectly as you draped your arms over his neck, humming against his soft lips, eyes closed as you attempted to deepen it.
Peter was loving it. He was convinced he could stay like this forever. Well that was until you attempted to climb into his lap and he freaked out and zoomed off in a blur of silver.
He finally had someone who wanted to mess around with him and now he was too shy? What was wrong with him! 
It’s not that he didn’t want to- he was just incredibly nervous. Like heart beating out of his chest, stomach churning nervous. What if he did something wrong? As far as he knew you didn’t know he was a virgin, but if he kept up this act you’d find out in no time. How embarrassing…
But still, every time you tried to initiate anything other than kissing, Peter either made an excuse or just straight up ran off. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you why he acted the way he did. What would you say? What would you think?
Even once you two officially started dating, he was super shy and jumpy. He didn’t even really like to sleep in the same bed with you. Cuddling? He was fine with, but there was something so intimate about sleeping in a bed with your partner that he just wasn’t ready for.
He never really thought he had problems showing or giving affection, but the longer he was with you the more he realized he was terrified of all of it. 
You were so patient with him, which made him feel even worse. He saw how desperate you were to be with him but poor Peter couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.
He wanted to. He jerked off every night to the thought of you, of your pretty face and how you looked at him during your makeup sessions. It had him cumming in surely a world record speed. 
Peter researched why he felt this way. Why couldn't he just be with you the way he wanted. Like dude, the image of the two of you naked and sweaty, rocking against each other? It really got him going, but the reality of it seemed too much for his poor brain to be able to process.
He came to the conclusion that he was scared of intimacy. Or maybe he was just nervous to have his first time. Some odd combination of the both. He had to get over it, right? He couldn’t stay a virgin for the rest of his life. Especially when he had a smoking hot girlfriend right in front of him. 
He had to find a way to get over it… He was determined now.
Finally, you two had been dating steadily for three months now. Three whole months with no under the clothes touching. Or over the clothes touching either if we’re being honest.
You had kind of clued in now that Peter was nervous about being with you in such an intimate way. You never pushed him. When he was ready, if he ever was, he would let you know.
So that’s why you were a bit surprised when during one of your frequent makeout sessions, when Peter began to harden in his sweatpants, he didn’t pull away. You noticed how his breath sped up, but instead of running off, he stayed put.
Your hands fell to his thighs gently, testing the waters as Peter pulled away from your lips to catch his breath. He whined quietly, barely able to be heard as his hips subtly arched into the feeling of your warm hands.
Before you went any further though, no matter how much he seemed to want it, you decided to ask him how he was feeling in the moment. 
“Peter? Hey, if you want to I’d love to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you aren’t ready, that's okay too.” You said quietly, reaching up to cup his cheek.
His skin was warm and red under your touch as he nuzzled the side of his face into your palm, sighing softly as he closed his eyes.
“I uh- I do. I’m ready, I want to.” He said quietly, not meeting your eyes.
“I’m sure by now you’ve realized I’m a virgin.” He mumbled, blushing impossibly darker as he huffed quietly, his chest rising and falling under his t-shirt. 
“Peter, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay.” You hummed, pulling your boy closer in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort. You could see how he was fighting himself in his mind, wrestling between the choice to do this, or to run away. Again. He was tired of running away.
“I just- I don’t want to do a bad job- I really want to make you feel good. And I’ve watched porn and shit like that but it- it’s not the same and I really don’t have any clue what to do.” He whispered, the saddest most desperate look on his poor face.
“We can go slow and I can help you. Anytime you have a question you ask, okay? I will never ever judge you. And if you want to stop, that’s okay too. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
Your words were exactly what he’d needed to hear these past few months when he was too afraid to even talk to you about any of this. He was finally ready. You’d need to walk him through it but he was ready.
“Okay, I want to. Please- need it.” He whined softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he weakly bucked his hips forward in search of friction of any kind.
Slowly but surely you let your hand fall to his crotch, rubbing over the bulge in his pants gently, trying to coax out more of those beautiful noises from his throat.
Peter tensed for a half a second before he shuddered, leaning further into you as he whined. 
“F-fuck-“ he choked out, bucking his hips up, causing your hand to slide farther against his covered length. 
“Feels good-“ he mumbled weakly, body tingling with pleasure as he tried to keep himself composed to the best of his ability. 
“More please-“ He grunted, already so worked up and you found it so adorable. He was in for the time of his life.
You pawed at his length with a bit more pressure and you saw the way that his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch you, but was nervous to make a move.
You moved your hand from his crotch and took both his hands in your own before placing them on your breasts.
Peter’s eyes widened to a near impossible size and you were worried they might actually pop out of his head at this point.
Damn. You had bomb titties. Like ooh mama they were amazing.
He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of his excess saliva before he started drooling or something-
He squeezed your breasts in each of his hands, reveling in the warm, squishiness of them. He could stay like this for the rest of his life. He was sure of it.
You let him explore your body for as long as he wanted, touching every part of you he could reach in a curious exploration of something he’d so badly wanted to do for so many years. 
This was it… He was going to lose his virginity tonight. And he couldn’t wait.
Your hand came down to gently massage his length once more before finding the elastic of his sweatpants, dipping your fingers under it so slowly.
Peter was too enamored with your breasts to realize what you were doing at first. He panicked a bit when he finally realized, worried that maybe he wasn’t big enough- did his dick look weird? When was the last time he actually inspected himself? So many worrying thoughts flooded through your mind but the second your hand crept under his pants and past the waistband of his boxers to finally touch his cock without any restrictions?… He was on cloud nine.
He’d never felt something like this. Sure he had his own hand to compare it to, but yours was so soft, so warm and so so much better than his own. 
It took everything in him not to nut the second you touched him. It really did. He was so desperate. His cock twitched in your touch as you did your best to stroke him inside his boxers, thumbing over the tip to collect the pre-cum there. You couldn’t see it, but he felt like he had a nice cock. A big, bulbous tip, a nice, decently long shaft, and thick veins that ran across it. 
Your mouth watered a bit at the thought of tasting him, and you were just about to. But much to Peter’s embarrassment, a few more strokes had him cumming hard over your hand, making a mess of his boxers.
He froze, body tensing as he bit down on your shoulder to muffle the noises that fell from his mouth. Holy shit… How embarrassing. You barely touched him and he came. 
You gasped softly in surprise, not expecting it so quickly, but his name was quicksilver after all. Maybe for more reasons than one?  Speaking of quicksilver, he was hard again almost instantly. Thank whatever gods there were that he recovered as quickly as he did. So at least he was ready for round two in the blink of an eye. His cock twitched with interest once more as you removed your hand from his pants, looking at the white creamy fluid that covered your fingers. 
“What do you want to do now?” You asked him, watching the adorable fucked out expression on his face. He sat up a bit taller and cleared his throat, recovering from his sudden orgasm. 
“I uh- I’ve always wanted to uh- sixty-nine? But I haven’t Uh- you’d have to tell me what to do to make you feel good. Like I obviously know about the clit- pshhh, duh, but like I want to make sure I’m doing it right.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the cum covered the front of his boxers.
You slowly peeled your shirt off your body, Peter gawking at you the whole time.
You gestured to his clothes and in a second, with a soft ‘fwip’ he was naked in front of you. Well damn… 
He blushed softly, looking at you for any signs of disappointment, which you certainly didn’t show. 
His cock was just as hot as you expected it to be. It curved slightly to the left, and was… Well, probably the prettiest cock you’d ever had the pleasure of viewing.
It wasn’t too thick, but was long, and god you couldn’t wait to feel it inside of you. Patience.. That would come later.
“Pretty.” You whispered, which sent shivers up Peter’s spine. Pretty? What? You- Jesus he could barely think.
You unclasped your bra and in a split second he was on you again, his large palms cupping your breasts as he kneaded them gently.
He looked at you curiously before he let his lips ghost over your hard nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, sucking gently.
His mouth felt delicious against your breasts and you arched your chest into the feeling, hands gently grabbing his silver hair.
He spent several minutes exploring your breasts before he pawed at your jeans, trying to urge you to take them off. 
You did just as he wanted, unbuttoning and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your little panties.
And lord, Peter almost came again. The sight of you nearly completely naked made his cock ache. He needed something. Now. 
He grabbed for you, getting you into a lying position as you kicked off your underwear, letting it fall somewhere as he manhandled you into the perfect position. You were facing his length as he faced your core, both of you in a lying position. Peter nearly drooled at the proximity to your dripping cunt, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and taste.
“Go ahead baby.” You said gently as you took his cock in hand once more, stroking it firmly as you spit onto the tip. 
Peter almost forgot all about tasting you the second your hand was in contact with his cock, but luckily he hadn’t.
He scooted forward a bit, letting his tongue press against your core, barely breaching your folds. He swallowed hard, your slick covering his tongue in an intoxicating flavor that he could find himself easily getting addicted to.
He parted your folds with his tongue, delving inside as if he’d done this hundreds of times before. His nose brushed against your clit as he licked and sucked to his heart's content, mouthing at your core with a desperation you’d never experienced. 
You pressed your lips to the tip of his throbbing cock and his breath stuttered against you, lips wobbling.
His eyes were closed and his hands rested on your thighs as he tried to get his tongue as deep inside you as humanly possible. 
He was losing his ever loving mind. The mixture of you on his tongue and the way you licked so gently against the tip of his cock had him seeing stars.
He pulled away for a moment to breathe and watch as you kitten licked his cock.
He whimpered softly, bucking his hips against your lips, causing his cockhead to slide across your cheek, smearing his pre-cum against your skin.
“S-sorry-“ he mumbled, biting down on his bottom lip as you finally took his tip into your mouth, suckling on it like it was some kind of damned popsicle. The vacuum your mouth created against him had him crying out, thighs quivering as he teared up from the pleasure.
Your tongue gently traced the slit in his head and it had Peter crying out in sensitivity, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop or even be gentle, because he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the slight pain it brought along with the overwhelming pleasure. 
“Fuck fuck fuck- ooooh god baby oh sHit-“ he decided to shut himself up by burying his face back in your pussy, eating you out like his life depended on it.
You had to say, for his first time, he wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact he was actually decent. He found your clit nearly instantly and suckled it into his mouth, being as gentle as could be while still pleasuring you.
You bobbed your head over his length, coating him in your saliva as he weakly bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag slightly.
Peter still couldn’t believe this was happening, part of him thinking this was some wet dream that his mind had dreamt up to torture him with. 
But nope. It was real. So real. Too real if you asked him. 
And soon enough he was close for the second time that night, body shaking with pleasure as you suckled on his cock. Dear lord, he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much.
“Y-you gotta stop- I’m gonna- oooooh I’m gonna bust baby-“ he begged, hips desperately flexing as he shuddered.
You just continued your assault on his poor cock, milking him for everything he had, and he came once again, costing your mouth in his salty release.
He threw his head back and gasped, unable to catch his breath for several seconds. He thought he was going to die, but by some sort of luck, he survived. He was alive and well. So much better than well in fact.
He shivered as you popped off of his length, wiping your mouth as you swallowed his release and god damn, that was so hot to him.
He sat up shakily, breathing heavily as he blinked slowly, bliss overcoming him as he tried to calm himself down. 
Twice. You’d brought him to release twice already and he still wanted more.
There was just one last thing to do, and Peter was a little nervous, but ready.
He wanted to fuck you.
He sat up, glancing around your room curiously. The last thing he wanted was for the two of you to have to stop because you didn’t have protection. As much as Peter knew he could probably pull out before he came, he in no way wanted to risk it. Not a chance.
“You don’t got a Uh- a condom do ya?” He asked, chuckling softly as he fidgeted with his hands.
“You think I don’t? I’ve been waiting months for this Peter-“ you said, reaching over into your bedside drawer and pulling out a little foil packet, tossing it to Peter. He tore it open and carefully slid it on his length. It felt weird, tight but not bad. Just a new feeling, just like everything else that he’d experienced today.
You laid back on the bed, your breasts bouncing so perfectly as Peter stared for a bit too long, losing his train of thought as he so often did.  
You cleared your throat, snapping Peter out of his trance like state staring at your bomb as hell titties. Okay maybe he shouldn’t say it like that- your magnificent breasts. Was that better? No.. no it definitely was not.
The way you laid on your back, wiggling your hips upwards made Peter lightheaded and he found himself crawling towards you without a thought, pulling you into a kiss, his cock nudging at your entrance. His body was shaking a bit and he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or nervousness. Maybe both? Yeah.. yeah probably both. Because holy shit, he was really about to do this? After today he’d no longer be a lame twenty something year old virgin! Yay! That had to call for a celebration of sorts.
He took his cock in hand, giving it a few firm strokes before placing it back at your entrance, giving a gentle push as you cunt sucked him in. Your wetness mixed with his saliva made the best lube as he slid right in with very little resistance.
A heavy gasp fell from your lips as with his first thrust inside, you felt as if the air had been knocked right from your lungs. He was hitting your cervix with ease, a bit of pain coming from just how far inside he was.
You gripped onto his shoulders as he began to thrust back and forth slowly, the feeling quite literally too much. You were so warm, so fucking tight and the way his cock slid in and out of you was a real sight to behold. 
He gripped the sheets by your head to steady himself. The last thing he wanted was to collapse and crush you or something embarrassing like that. That’d almost definitely ruin the mood.
Except you were sure he could do just about anything right now and it wouldn’t ruin the moment. He was so far inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around Peters waist, pulling him closer as you cried out with each of his perfect thrusts.
Your moans were music to his ears and he swore he could record it and listen to it on repeat every second of the day. You shouldn’t even be allowed to make noises like that, considering the effect it had on poor Peter.
“Fuuuuuuck you’re so warm- my god-“ He groaned out as he thrust into you, his pace getting progressively faster and a bit rougher. You were definitely going to be sore later, but it would all be worth it.
You smiled softly and scratched at his shoulders gently with your nails, dragging a moan from his throat as his hips stuttered.
He’d find a pace and then stutter every few thrusts, humping into you with the desperation of an animal in heat.
He couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this all these years. Sure people had told him sex felt good but this was more than just good. This was heaven.
“Mmm, so good for me Peter, r-rub. Rub my clit-“ you whined out, pressure building in your core with each thrust, his groin bumped against you, tingles of pleasure spiking through you.
Peter did exactly as you asked, one of his hands coming down to rub against your clit when suddenly he had the most devilish idea. 
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in concentration as he began to buzz the pads of his fingers across your clit as he grinned, knowing the effect it would have on you.
You yelped in surprise, eyes flying open as you looked down to see what he was doing. Oh. You hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility but it was so good.
“Peter- baby I-I’m close-“ you managed to choke out, arching your back to meet each of his thrusts, your poor abused pussy clenching around him in desperation.
“I’m close too- fuck cum for me baby- cum for Quickie-“ He let out a breathless laugh as his thrusts lost their rhythm even more, his thighs shaking as he felt himself just about to tip over the edge.
You weren’t sure if the two of you came at the same time, but it had to have been pretty damn close because the second you saw stars behind your eyelids, you felt warmth inside you as Peter released into the condom.
Once the two of you rode out your releases and caught your breath a bit, he pulled out of you, pulling the condom off his sensitive length and tossing it into the small trash can at the edge of the bed.
He collapsed against the bed, chest heaving hard as he turned over to look at you. He was a wreck, sweaty silver hair covering his forehead and poking him in the eye as he blinked. His whole body was hot to the touch, glistening with the smallest sheen of sweat.
“That was fucking amazing. Holy shit balls.” He panted, looking at the ceiling as he attempted to process what had just happened. He was no longer a virgin! Woohoo! Now no one could continue to make fun of him for it! 
“Shit balls?” You questioned, shaking your head as you laughed, smoothing Peter’s hair back out of his face before pressing a kiss to his nose, grinning. 
He snuggled close to you despite being sweaty and gross, closing his eyes as he breathed heavily, exhausted. It was another new feeling to him. He wasn’t usually tired and rarely ever slept, so for the first time in a while, he felt like he needed a nap. And a Twinkie, but a nap first.
“That was so good baby- thank you- I gotta sleep, feel like I’m gonna pass out.” He said groggily, pressing kisses to your skin in an almost delirious way as he fought to stay awake. 
“I’ll be here when you wake up, Peter. Sleep.” You cooed and he cuddled closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms. You felt so safe, and Peter just felt at peace. 
His new title was ‘the no longer virgin!’ And he intended to wear it proudly. 
708 notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 6 months
Text
Beggin' for Thread
part 2 of Trash Talk
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pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)
description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.
word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.
author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!
“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”
His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 
“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 
“Heard you and Abby got into it.”
You heart stops. He can’t know?
You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 
“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 
“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 
“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”
You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 
Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”
He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 
You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 
You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”
“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”
“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”
You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 
“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”
Your skin crawls.
“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”
“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”
Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.
Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 
Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.
“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 
You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”
Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 
One was meant for you. 
“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”
Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 
“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 
You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 
“I don’t like burritos.”
She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”
You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 
You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 
-
“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”
Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 
Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 
“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 
Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 
When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 
Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 
You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 
Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 
“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 
Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 
A whistle from behind you. 
You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 
“Go!”
You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 
You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 
You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 
When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 
“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 
“I’m good, are you?”
You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 
When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 
The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?
She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 
You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 
You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
She lets out one final breath. 
You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 
“What is it?”
You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 
“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 
Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”
You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 
So you don’t say anything.
You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 
They are just like us. What are we doing?
Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 
Now it’s a wasteland. 
You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 
She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 
“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”
She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”
Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 
You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 
“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”
You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 
She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 
When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 
“Aim up. There’s two.”
She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 
The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 
“There’s more, go down!”
You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”
“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”
Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 
You have to just hope he’s okay. 
Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 
You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 
“Keep moving!”
Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.
“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.
You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 
Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 
You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.
Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 
“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”
You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 
Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 
“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”
You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.
Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 
You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 
“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 
You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 
The group jumps back at your reaction. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”
Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 
-
When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.
“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 
“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”
You know that voice. 
“You can’t call me that.”
She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”
Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 
-
You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 
“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 
“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 
“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 
You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”
“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”
You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 
All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 
“And the rest of the group?”
“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”
“Who didn’t make it out?”
Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”
Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 
“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”
“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”
You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 
She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.
“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.
She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”
The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 
What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.
“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”
She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 
“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”
“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”
It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 
“Yeah, I like you, too.”
She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 
“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”
“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“
“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”
She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 
“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.
“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 
You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”
“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“
“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”
You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 
“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”
Relief rushes over your body. 
“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”
She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 
“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”
If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 
“Like what?”
You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 
“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.
“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”
-
“How ya doin’, princess?”
You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 
“‘M good, thanks.”
Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”
Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.
You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 
“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”
You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 
“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 
You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”
She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”
“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 
She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”
Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 
“Who?”
“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”
You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 
You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 
The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 
Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 
She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 
“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”
You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 
“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”
“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 
“What do you have a crush on her or something?”
Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 
“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 
“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”
You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 
Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 
“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 
Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 
Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 
He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 
She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 
Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.
“It’s locked.”
She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”
You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”
Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 
She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 
“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 
She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”
Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 
Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 
“You mind if I stay for a bit?”
Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 
“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”
She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 
“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”
You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 
She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 
“A better job, huh?”
She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 
“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”
She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 
She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 
“You want me to do your legs next?”
You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”
She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 
“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 
“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”
Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”
She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”
I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 
You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.
“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”
Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 
Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”
You know you got her. 
Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 
Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 
She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 
She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.
You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.
As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 
“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 
“Yes, Abs. All for you.”
She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 
She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  
For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 
“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”
And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 
She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 
“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”
You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 
“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”
She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 
When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 
“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”
She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.
“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”
You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.
“Need you, Abs.”
She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.
Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 
Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.
“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”
“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”
She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 
“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”
The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 
Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 
You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 
“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”
You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 
“Coming in!”
It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 
He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.
“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”
Your blood ran cold. 
“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”
He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.
“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 
You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.
“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”
You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 
“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”
You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 
“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”
Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”
“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?
“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”
“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”
Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”
Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 
Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?
“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 
You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 
“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”
You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 
Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 
 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”
When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.
“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”
Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”
“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 
You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 
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lostgirlmuseum · 9 months
Text
Maced
Maced
Summary: You think someone’s following you and you mace them. Turns out it’s just Bucky. 
A/N: this is my first ever fic im posting, so please be gentle with me, I know I have a lot of growing to do. This is just for fun!
Words: About 1k
Bucky x Reader
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“Stay back!” You screamed, spinning lightning fast and unleashing the spray into the perpetrators eyes.
“DAMN IT!” The man screamed, bringing the heels of his gloved hands to his eyes. “God! Fucking hell–” he roared, falling to his knees. 
That’s when you finally realized who this man was. 
“Bucky!” 
“Fuck! What the fuck!?” He ignored you, groaning as he rested his forehead on the concrete ground.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you! Why were you following me?” You waved your hands around apologetically, but the damage had already been done.
“I wasn’t following you! GAH– what kind of fucking mace is that? Christ, oh my, fuck!” 
“It’s homemade!” You cried, unsure of what to do. You had never seen Bucky so distraught and helpless before. It was an odd sight to see such a large man all but rolling on the floor in pain.
His nonsensical curses and mumblings continued, his hands still clawing at his eyes.
“Cmon Bucky, I live right around here, let me get you inside and then I can help you.” You pleaded, about to pat his shoulder but deciding against it. He was writhing in pain and you felt guilty enough, worried that even touching him would make it worse.
He didn’t give an intelligible response, but he did make the effort to start standing up, albeit slowly.
You asked him if you could guide him, to which he just grunted, and you took that as a yes. Holding onto his side, the two of you walked thirty feet to your apartment building. Luckily, the elevator was already on the ground floor, so you were able to go right up to your floor.
After helping him flush out his eyes at the sink, you led him to lay down on your couch. You took a seat in the chair across from him, worriedly watching for any signs of renewed irritation.
“Listen, I’ve been pepper sprayed before, but never like that. What the hell was in that?”
“It’s best if I don’t tell you.” You insisted sympathetically. 
He just groaned. You quickly tried to hide your smile.
“Listen Bucky, I really am sorry. I was walking home and I noticed someone was following me for a long time, but it was too dark to make out that it was you. I just panicked.”
“I was on my way to my apartment.”
“I thought you lived with the Avengers?”
“I did, but I decided recently that it would do me some good to have a little bit of normalcy, like having my own apartment, away from Stark tech and the chaos.”
“Oh.” It was silent for a moment. “Which apartments?” You asked casually.
“The Summits on Plum Street.” 
“I guess that’s why you followed me for so long.” He looked up at you in question. “That’s where we are right now.”
“I didn’t realize you lived here.” 
“I can’t believe I maced my new neighbor.” You laughed. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s fine, at least you were trying to protect yourself.”
There came a lull in the conversation, to which you decided to check on his eyes again. You walked over to where he layed, and asked him to “let me see.”
He looked at you with his gorgeous blue—although, red rimmed—eyes. Like an ocean in hell. Or. Something. 
“They’re looking a little better,” you politely nodded, standing straight up after realizing you were getting a bit too close.
“Are you lying?”
You didn’t answer. You thoughtfully tapped your chin.
“I think I may have saline drops in a cabinet somewhere…” 
You wandered off to a cabinet, and came back with a small bottle. 
“Do you want me to do it for you?” You asked sweetly.
“I think I can do my own eye drops,” he responded, a hint of judgment lacing his tone at you even suggesting that.
You threw your hands up, signaling you’d back off, and handed him the drops. You sat back in your chair and stared off out the window. 
A minute passed before he begrudgingly spoke up. “Can you help me? Please,” he quickly added.
You obliged without a single word, already heading to wash your hands, but he still felt the need to explain. 
“It’s harder than I expected. Each time I see a drop coming, I close my eyes. I can’t help it.”
“It’s okay,” you nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. You leaned over him, and looked at his poor eyes again.
“Tilt your head back, and look up.” You instructed. 
He did as you asked. 
“Do you want me to hold your eyelid, or do you?” You asked, realizing you should probably give him a choice to make him more comfortable.
“You can do it.”
“Okay.”
You gently pulled down below his right eye, the rest of your fingers resting on the side of his face.
“It’ll be quick,” you soothed, before doing a quick countdown and squeezing the bottle.
“Good, now the other one. Keep looking up for me.” You quickly switched hands and did the same to the other side.
“Now close your eyes and hold right here, just for like a minute.” You explained, lightly pinching the corner of his eyes. He copied your movement.
“That wasn’t so bad.” You stayed seated next to him, silently observing the details of his face. You’d never been this close to him for long enough to admire without him seeing you. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows made you smile, as did the slight pink hue of his cheeks. Have those always been that color?
“Feel better?” You said once he peeked open his eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“Good.” 
AN: I hope the ending isn’t too abrupt, I just felt like writing a short little thing. Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me. If you’re comfortable with it, I’d love a like or reblog or comment, but no pressure. ❤️ 
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