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everyonewooeverywhere · 2 months

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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ caring bf!yunho x gn!reader

synopsis ✭ yunho absolutely loves it when you play with his hoodie strings. even though you rarely notice you’re doing it.

content/genre ✭ fluff, established relationship

word count ✭ 1.2k

notes ✭ this was a request from @justsomedreaming :)

thank you loves for the requests! they are still open. if you want to leave a request, just read my guidelines first! i'd love to hear from you.

also! i love love love hearing feedback about all of my work, and i also just love hearing from ya'll. so if you want to come say hi, my dms and inbox are always open!! 💗💗

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“Baby, where do you keep the popcorn bowl again?” Yunho yelled from your kitchen.

“It should be in the cabinet to the right of the microwave.”

You heard him rustle through the cabinet before he shouted again, “Oh! I found it!”

“Yun my apartment isn’t that big. You don’t have to yell,” you laughed softly at him from your spot on the couch.

He gave a soft “sorry” before going back to his search.

You had offered to help him make the popcorn several times, but he’d insisted that you let him do something nice for you. The amount of nice things he did for you were nearly countless, but you didn’t mind letting him have this gesture too even if you were a little worried that your apartment might smell of burnt popcorn for the next three days.

Nevertheless, you let him have his moment. He loved taking care of you, so who were you to take that away from him? Especially when it meant you could stay cuddled up on the couch with your hot chocolate, scrolling through streaming services to find a suitable movie for your date night.

When you finally settle on a movie, you peer over to your boyfriend in the kitchen. He’s dumped the bag of popcorn into a bowl and is digging around in your cabinets for more snacks to go with the popcorn.

He’s so focused. You love how serious he is about things like this. He cares so much about even the little things, and he never fails to make you feel so special.

It took him a couple of minutes, but, when he plopped himself on the couch beside you, he came armed with plenty of snacks. Not just the popcorn, but he also had a variety of chips and chocolates, too.

“Wow, you really spoil me,” you said, reaching for the popcorn bowl. When you placed the bowl in your lap, he immediately stuck his hand into it and grabbed a fistful of popcorn. “Ok, now you’re just being greedy.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead before shoving the food into his mouth rather ungracefully. As gross as you may have found it, you did love the fact that he felt so comfortable around you. Even if it meant being a victim to some of his obnoxious behaviors.

“What movie did you choose?” He asked, pulling your legs over his thighs so that you were basically in his lap.

“Barbie Princess Charm School,” you said, gesturing to the TV with the remote.

“Seriously?” he smiled down at you, eyebrows raised. He was making fun of you, but you were standing your ground.

“Yep! It is a vital part of my childhood, and it’s a crime you have never seen it.” You poked him in the chest, “And it is my turn to pick the movie, remember?”

He loved how passionate you were about this. The only reason he teased you over it was because he loved to see you so adamantly fight for why the movie was worth watching.

When you pressed play on the movie, Yunho leaned back into the couch, pulling you with him.

“How was your day?” he muttered, running a hair over your hair.

You looked up at him and hummed, running your hand over his chest and playing with the fabric of his hoodie, “It was alright. We’re still pretty short-staffed staffed so things have been hectic, but tips have been good. So I guess that makes up for it.”

He gently grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, “I’m sure you’ll find more people soon.”

You sighed, “I hope.”

“Baby, if you need a break, take one, okay? I know you don’t like financial help, but I’m always here for you,” he lowered your hand back to his chest and kissed your forehead again, “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Thank you, baby.”

He looked down at you. It was obvious from the bags under your eyes and the tone of your voice when talking about work that you were stressed. The biggest sign of your anxiety was that you were fidgeting with your hands quite a bit. That’s why he’d made a point to kiss your knuckles, he wanted you to understand with every part of you, both conscious and subconscious, that he was going to take care of you.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to get your mind off work, “Didn’t you get lunch with that high school friend of yours?”

“Oh yeah! I meant to tell you about that.”

“How’d that go?” He encouraged.

He watched you very adamantly as you spoke of the little lunch date you’d had with an old friend. It had gone well from the looks of things. From the remembering smile on your face to the levity of your tone, he could tell that this meal had brought some sort of solace to your rather hectic life.

It wasn’t long into your story though, that Yunho noticed you had started playing with the strings of his hoodie. He smiled fondly. He was pretty sure you never really noticed it. It felt more like a habit.

Nonetheless, he enjoyed watching you fiddle with the strings. Tying them into bows and knots as you talked. It gave you something to do with your hands, and that fact alone made Yunho incredibly happy. He was able to give you something, even if it was a minute gesture, to calm your nerves.

The both of you forgot about the movie completely. Though you both never fully watched the movies you put on anyway. It always ended this way. One of you talking about your life while the other listened. Peacefully eating snacks and occasionally watching the movie in its final moments.

“But, yeah, it was really good to see them again,” you smiled softly at him.

“I’m glad you had fun, baby,” he leaned down toward your face again, this time kissing you on the lips. He was so gentle in moments like these.

It was a simple gesture of his love for you, but you loved how he could make soft, quiet moments even more beautiful with a small kiss.

You did, however, pull on the strings of his hoodie, trying to pull him closer to you. He grinned against your lips, laughing just a bit.

Pulling back you looked at him, slightly confused, “What?”

“What do you mean?”

You were really confused now, “You laughed at me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his smile only grew.

“Yunho,” you hit him in the chest, though, not very hard.

“I’m just teasing you, baby,” he pecked your lips again.

You scoffed playfully, poking his cheek, “Well stop teasing me.”

“Okay, no more teasing,” he grabbed the hand you had by his face and pressed it to his chest. He brought his lips to yours one more time for good measure. This time letting it last a few more seconds before pulling back a couple of inches from your face, “I love you.” He whispered.

It was your turn to smile stupidly at him, “I love you, too.”

You pulled him back down and kissed him. He couldn’t help but grin again at the fact that you had pulled him to you with your hands tangled in his hoodie strings.

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notes ✭ thank you for reading!! as always, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. i absolutely love hearing from you guys, so don't be afraid to come say hi 💗

#ateez x reader #ateez #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho fluff #yunho oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez yunho #everyonewooeverywhere

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adventuringblind · 2 months

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Teach Me Part One

Max Verstappen x Reader Part Two

Genre: hurt/comfort (2.7k words)

Summary: Max helps our protagonist through a journey of sexual discovery. You know - after she's been assaulted... Don't worry though, he's got her (and her virginity).

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, BDSM in the wrong way, then it gets better, lots of discussions, Virgin reader, softdom Max, toxic ex, dom/sub, alluded to smut

Notes: I hope this is what le requester was looking for! I tried my best to get everything and I think I did! Really hope you like it and that it brings you comfort!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me because I'm going insane over here...

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Trust is something most people underestimate the power of. Trust is sitting on a chair and thinking it will hold you. Trust getting in your car and knowing it will get you to work and back.

Trusting people is harder than trusting inanimate objects. It’s easy to come back from a chair breaking or a car randomly stopping. Humans take the trust of others and stomp on it. They treat it like a toy; something to be thrown away when they are done with it.

She did trust once. She tried to give someone her love. It didn’t work out for her, and made her struggle to trust anyone after that.

Max swings her legs back and forth on the counter. GP had come in not five minutes ago and told him to get down. But Max is like a cat, and refused to get off.

She sits in a chair in the office area, preparing for debrief. Her fingers crossed it goes longer because that means right to sleep with her. Her boyfriend won’t have any reason to keep her up. Not when she has a race tomorrow.

“Any plans for after the race?”

Logically, there is no way Max doesn’t know her plans. They’ve grown up together; her and Max against the world.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. Probably just hanging out with my boyfriend.”

“Boring, you should come out with the team!” The warmth on his features makes her want to melt. She’d much rather be with Max. Her relationship hasn’t been going well for some time now and she’s been trying to find something to repair it. Because she can’t bring herself to leave. He’s guilted her into staying; the fear of being alone outweighs wanting to leave him.

“If I could find something to do with him, then maybe it would be less boring.”

Max Waves her off after the race with a grimace. She knows he hates the guy, but he also doesn’t even know the full extent as to why she hates him. Why she can’t stand being around him for longer then she has to.

She’s alone in the room for a minute. Her boyfriend is still in the shower for the time being, meaning - she has time to indulge herself.

It’s a stupid interest, really. Max had brought it up in passing; something he’d tried with partners. The one problem with being Max’s friend? His astute lack of knowing when enough information has been given. Still, the details of his experimentation through the years left her wanting to know more.

Her recent search history has been her own exploration into the world of BDSM. It’s a stupid thing to look into considering the male she’s with isn’t the nicest about sex. No, he’s tried to coerce her a few times now. He comes to races with the intention of trying to get in her pants. It’s just not something she wants yet and she’ll continue to let him fuck her throat if it means holding him off from taking that piece of her until she’s ready.

She’s caught up in her own thoughts, mindlessly scrolling something mildly more explicit. “Watcha looking at?” The obnoxiously placed male on the bed tries to crane her head to look at her phone.

In her panic to hide the screen, she fumbles. His hands snatch it away from her and begin scrolling where she had left off. “It’s nothing-”

“Actually, this is something. Is this all it takes to get you to let me in finally? Would you like to be owned?”

She would like to tell him no. She wants to explain what she wants is to feel safe with someone; enough to let go for once. “Just something I was curious about, is all.”

“Whatever - don’t expect me to stick around much longer then. Maybe this will help us get back to where we were.”

She ends up with a bruised throat the next morning. Her peace offering to him since he was adamant about getting something from her.

What she was not expecting the next morning to be woken up stuck to the headboard. Her wrists hurt more than her throat and the fear clouding her brain makes it hard to tell what’s really happening. She tugs at it, only to be stopped by a familiar set of hands. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I figured I’d indulge you.” He sounds nonchalant about all this. She’s not sure if that makes it better or worse. “Just relax, yeah? I’ll take care of you.”

It’s the way he’s eating her with his eyes. The sinister tone in his voice. She doesn’t want to be here. The more she tries to relax, the more she ends up panicking. His touch on her skin hurts more than she wants to admit.

“Would you stop squirming?”

“No!” She pulls harder at the stupid restraints around her wrists. She pulls until her hands start to slide out, bloody and burned, but it’s enough.

The second she’s free, she’s flipping them. They wrestle as she attempts to flee, eventually able to slip her way around him and out the door.

She’s barefoot, disheveled, her long shirt barely covering her ass. Not bare, thankfully, but pretty close to it. The adrenaline kicks in and she sprints to Max’s room three floors up and prays there is nobody around. Grateful for the early hour in the morning that this has occurred.

Her knuckles hit the door with a bruising force. “Max! Max please open up! Max-” The door opens and she tumbles inside. Nearly hitting the floor, but Max’s quick reflexes are there to steady her.

She clings to him, sobbing, the fear of what might have happened to her hitting like a punch to the gut.

Max ends up getting her stuff for her. She can’t stomach the thought of ever seeing that man again. Let alone attempting anything intimate.

Max lets her stay in his guest room for the time being. He doesn’t push for her to talk about it. Not yet at least, but she knows he’ll get impatient just like the rest of them. He’ll kick her out when she doesn’t give him what he wants.

Max finds her out on his balcony four months into their new living situation. It didn’t help that winter break happened three weeks after the whole ordeal. It’s nice solely for the reason they drive for the same team. Otherwise, she’d hate being left here to wallow in her own self pity.

Max sits himself on the side across from her. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head? I miss seeing you smile.” She can tell he’s nervous, his lip biting from childhood never went away.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

He’s worried; can clearly hear it in his voice. He wants to know that she isn’t going to do anything crazy. “What happened, I guess.”

“I’m here. If you ever want to talk about it - I’m here.”

Maybe it’s the thought of Max having defended her for years now, or the safety she has always found with him. “It’s really stupid.” She drops her head into her knees.

“Can’t be if it’s making you upset.”

“He saw something I wa looking at on my phone the night before I forced myself into your room-”

Max’s eyes go wide. “Alright, the only stupid thing about that is you thinking you forced yourself on me. You can come to me whenever and I’ll open the door.” He gestures for her to continue after his interruption. “What was on your phone?”

This is the part where she runs if things go south. “Itwaslikesexstuff…”

“Sex stuff?” Well, her original plan has failed. How he could have ever understood that is beyond her.

“The - the kind that - you talked about?”

His cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson red. “Curiosity, I presume?”

“If you count the last two years as a curiosity phase, then sure.”

“I’m - I’m so sorry.”

She blinks at him. The words are barely sinking in as she watches him rub his palm against his neck and jaw. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I sent you - unknowingly, sure - down a rabbit hole that can be dangerous if you don’t know where to look.” His sad demeanor makes her want to hug him. “Was it something related to BDSM stuff? I swear if he hurt you I know where he lives still-”

“Max please-” The laugh raging through her is pathetic. “-As much as I’d love to see him get his ass handed to him, I think I’ll be okay in time. He didn’t rape me. Close to it, but I managed to get away.”

“Oh fuck! Your wrists were busted! I should’ve known.”

“Yeah well, I guess it gives someone else the opportunity to take my virginity-” Well, cats out of the bag now. She had meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. Now Max is gaping at her and she’s not sure how to feel about it.

He slides over to her; their knees now knocking together. “Someone else, huh? Have anyone in mind?”

“Had someone in mind for ages, but he wouldn’t feel the same.” Because he’s seen the worst of her. There is no way Max could ever love someone like her. Someone who struggles with intimacy-

“Try me. Because I think anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“What about you?”

“Especially me.”

It’s a month after that where Max brings up the subject again. They’ve kissed and cuddled, but nothing aside from that. She has tried to suck him off. Her mindset being it would appease him for the time being but Max had refused. ‘Not until you are doing it because you want to, not because you think it’s your job.’

She wanted to lay there and cry. Which she might have, but fell asleep at some point. The subject hadn’t been brought up again until now. At the breakfast table of all places.

“So, out of curiosity, are you still curious?”

She drops her fork out of surprise. “I - I mean… yes? But I’m not sure I want to go through that again-”

“Nope, never. What he did was wrong, plain and simple.”

“But isn’t that what it is?”

“It is about trust and safety. I’m going to assume you didn’t have a safeword?”

No, because they didn’t even talk about it. She just woke up tied to the bed and was told to stay still. She settles for shaking her head no. Overwhelmed by the severe lack of anything that Max is talking about.

“If you want, we can take things at your pace, yes? I’ll show you what the bastard should have done.”

And if that didn’t pique her interest, she doesn’t know what would. “Yeah I - I think I’d like that.”

Max takes her out to dinner a week later. Her favorite, as usual, since it’s also his favorite (another perk of growing up together). He’s terribly sweet to her the entire night. Which isn’t that big of a change from normal - but Max is sassy and won’t hesitate to throw a sarcastic insult her way.

“Are you alright if we talk about some things tonight?” He asks on the car ride home. “I would like to get a feel for what you might want to try in the future so I can research a bit.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.”

Max collects her into his arms on the sofa. The stubble on his chin prickles her skin while he leaves playful kisses. The notebook he has resting on his (and hers by proxy) knee is flipped open to a blank page.

“Okay, first up is safe words.”

“To be fair, I know what they are and why they are important. He just didn’t talk to me about anything first…”

Max hums. “And we’re still gonna talk about them!” He giggles when she groans. “Hey! This is the safety stuff I was talking about. Do you know the traffic light system?”

“Green is for good and red is for stop…”

“And yellow is for?”

“Pointless, is what I’ve read.” She shrugs.

Again, Max gapes at her. “On the contrary, yellow could just mean something doesn’t feel right or you need a minute to breathe. Not a full stop, but a slow down.”

That makes more sense now. Curse the internet! She probably should’ve made sure her information sources were credible to begin with. “Yellow means wait a second.”

“Secondly, it’s usually good to have multiple safewords. Red is one and the other I use is Mercedes.”

She can’t contain her laughs. Nearly falling out of Max’s lap as she clutches her chest. “Mercedes?!”

“Think about it! If Mercedes becomes a normal bedroom topic then we may need to rethink some things.”

“Fair point, but it’s still a bit funny!”

“Next thing on the list is how I personally like to conduct a scene.” The smirk plastered on his face makes her want to curl up in a ball and hide away.

“Is it not the normal way?”

“To be fair - there is not a normal way. It’s just how I’ve come to enjoy setting things up prior. Like discussion beforehand is always a must.”

“Like what we’re doing now?”

“Exactly!”

They end up talking for hours on end. Into the morning until they are both passed out on the couch. Needless to say they don’t get any further than that.

More daycare spent simply talking about it. Max takes care to make sure every detail is talked about. It’s the small things that she hadn’t even thought to consider earlier on.

It becomes safer just by talking about it. Like Max has somehow made it less scary. Which could also just be because he keeps talking about safety.

She explores in the way she is comfortable with. Small touches here and there, a bit of oral when she can manage. Max checks in with her almost too often. Specifically when she’d like him to keep his tongue where it’s at. He laughs at her frustrated huffs. They do the non-sexual side of things more often. Sometimes he takes things into his own hands, getting her on her knees. Nothing more than what she’s willing to do.

It’s when she wins a race, high on adrenaline and soaked to the bones in champagne, that she feels the desire to go further.

She attempts to jump Max’s bones when they are finally back in their hotel. “You don’t want to go celebrate?”

“Can’t I celebrate with just you?”

“You certainly can, but I plan on taking my time if we’re doing this tonight.” The post race gravel in his voice has her swooning.

“Please Max? I want you.”

“I’m going to ask you if you’re sure a million times regardless.”

He pulls her in for a gentle kiss. It turns heated and eager quicker than anytime before. Her need to get her desperation across has Max pinning her to the wall. She squeaks in surprise, having not seen it coming.

“Someone is eager tonight.”

“Are you going to make me beg for it?”

“Not tonight, another time though.”

He taps the bottom of her thighs. He lifts her like she’s nothing and sets her on the bed gently. “Shall we review?”

“Green for go, Yellow for slow, Red or Mercedes for stop.”

God is he beaming at her. His knuckles caress her jaw. “Good girl.”

Gone, she’s so gone for this man it’s not funny anymore. Not when he talks to her like that.

Max takes care of her, runs his hands across her body and makes her shiver. He strips each article of clothing like she’s the most delicate thing he’s ever touched.

“Color?” He says while leaning over her with no clothes between them.

“Green.”

The next morning is fuzzy. She’s not sure if it’s because she and Max were up until the early hours of the morning, or because she’s sore in places she didn’t know could be. It’s unreal how good she feels; how loved and wanted.

She wants to stay here, frozen in this moment, watching the sun soak into Max’s skin. He’s breathtaking; always has been.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Max cracks a smile and stretches his arms out around her.

“You’re a dork.”

“Ah, but you trust me enough to be your dork. Specifically yours; all this dorkiness is for you.”

She rolls on top of him. “Hey Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks - you know - for teaching me and making it special.”

“You deserve is schat. I’m glad you trust me. That's a big honor and I’m grateful for it.”

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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Musician!eren when you try to fake a orgasm with him

oooooh I’m so glad I scrolled back through my inbox and found this gem because ohhhh boy! 🤭 lemme tell you…I hope y’all never get tired of me writing about him because I don’t think I can.

cw: rough (lowkey angry) sex because mean eren makes me feral :(, slapping, fingering, choking, spit play, slight degradation and name calling, squirting

if it’s one thing that eren knows better than anything on this earth, even more so than music, it’s his girl’s body. Every inch, crevice, corner and curve on that beautiful frame of yours is imbedded in his brain; akin to that of the keys he presses daily. It’s like second nature to him. He knew everything that made you tick, turned you on and even what drove you mad with lust for him. So one night, when the two of you are going hot and heavy after a rather intense argument, you find out just how true that sentiment is…

“Alrighttt, fuck! You win, baby. I’m sorry—“

a seemingly helpless plea escaping your mouth as you lie flat on your back..gazing up at your boyfriend with fluttering eyes and breathy moans. You clawing ferociously at his sweat glistened, steel hard abs; a result of his new workout regimen as to prepare for his upcoming tour. Even your legs began to tremble as they hooked around his waist and your heels cling to his lower back, along with your nails clawing into his tattooed skin. His dick swollen inside of your tightness. All synonymous with the fact that you just came extremely hard for him…except, there was just one tiny problem:

“Oh trust me, princess…you’re not sorry. Not yet at least..”

the very ominous statement leaving his lips with a wide grin, which could not have spelled good news for you in the slightest. Because the truth was, he knew better than that. He knew better than to trust your little performance because he could feel firsthand that you hadn’t truly experienced the mind numbing orgasm you were trying so desperately to portray. It wasn’t for a lack of his skill, no. It had everything to do with the fact that earlier, only a few hours prior, the two of you were in a rather heated argument about a particular photographer you had worked with for a shoot and how he wanted you nowhere near the guy. It came off as controlling but it was for your own good. Even so, you were both still angry; him for your bratty attitude and you because of his brash way of expressing himself..and the only way to absolve all of said anger was to fuck it out of one another! Not too long after, you found yourselves tearing one another out your clothes, scattering them on the staircase as he fucked you against it with a hoisted leg on the railing. To getting your throat fucked on the balcony overlooking the living room and downstairs. Leaving you a sloppy mess. But that wasn’t enough for Eren..not by a long shot. He couldn’t let up until you were unable to move at all. However, you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. Or so you thought!

“Wait, what do you—“

“You must think I’m fucking stupid or something..what? You didn’t think I felt that shit? You’re holding out on me, baby. Don’t play dumb.”

it seemed that he had caught you red handed..faking an orgasm. Clamping down to keep from coming undone. But if he had any say in it, you were going to unravel those tight bundle of nerves and make the mess he so desperately craved. With a firm grip around your throat and your back pressed firmly to the headboard as he forced you upright..keeping that head straight and pretty eyes on him, Eren then shoved his fingers roughly into your mouth, causing you to gag up an enormous trail of saliva in the process. “Because if you had actually came for me like I told you to..” with that bodily fluid dribbling down your stomach, tits and to your throbbing clit, he’d begin to massage it in before shoving two digits in replacement of his thick cock. Your punishment for not appreciating it! “I’d be soaking wet right now. But since you wanna be a stubborn lil’ bitch..I got something for you.” A promise more so than a threat but you knew you were in for it now. Sometimes, it felt as if he knew you better than yourself and he wasn’t much in the way of having you try and bruise his ego tonight. Especially when it was so painfully obvious that you were just dying to release. With those fingers still housed inside of you, he’d use his others to mark your cheek with slaps. Making sure you’re keeping your gaze fixated on him and him alone. By now, you had began heaving, unable to pretend any longer that you felt no pleasure. That frothy, milk colored cream being the tell all factor that you were close. “Look at you now, trying to ride my fucking fingers to get off…just for that shit, you hold it in and don’t come until I say so.” And it was at this point, you began to tense up and flail around. That’s when he’d grasp your throat again..causing you to gasp for air and beg for a release. But to no avail and he’d shove you back down, still flailing around in an attempt to take his fingers to the hilt and stretch your cunt open but he wasn’t going to make it that easy. When you began to whimper and beg, telling him how you were really about to come, all he did was laugh in response.

“Oh now you want to do it? You wanna squirt all over my fingers? Hmm?”

“Yes, daddy! Please!..”

“And you’ll listen when I tell your ass to do something, right?”

not breaking his stride once while he coaxed those answers out of you and those juices out of your body. Pressing a firm hand to your tummy, Eren rapidly fingered you until that pretty little pussy began to spasm and he knew you were physically incapable of holding back and that’s when he’d stroke your clit to make it all the more intense and impossible to hold out. So once those digits were removed..

“Oh my God!..fuck..”

that shower of squirt was extracted with it, splattering his chest and stomach, just as he wanted! But you didn’t get a moment’s break with him. Amid your orgasm, he’d grip his cock at the base; smacking it against those very sensitive and clammy folds, right before pushing himself in to the halfway point..filling you to the brim.

“Now let’s try that shit again and this time..none of that bullshit, alright? Nut on this dick for real..”

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sugrhigh · 4 months

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ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )

summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.

warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!

roomie!matt x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.

strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo

@sleepysturnss

rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.

its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.

storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.

you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.

“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.

he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”

you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.

“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”

this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.

and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.

none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.

and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.

“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.

you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.

“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.

“ew, major turn off.”

“you’re telling me.”

nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.

“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.

“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.

at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.

your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.

“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.

you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.

“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.

he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.

“you do look amazing.” he compliments.

“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.

“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.

“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.

“nobody cared when we left early last time.”

you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”

“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.

“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.

“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.

“only for you.”

two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.

you’ve had three shitty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.

matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.

it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.

you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.

you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.

but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the shit out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.

you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.

they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.

“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.

“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.

he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.

“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.

nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.

you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.

he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.

right?

the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.

the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.

“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.

“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.

the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.

chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”

he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.

“yeah?”

“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.

you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.

“uh, no?”

chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”

your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”

“are you guys together?”

there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.

“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.

he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”

your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.

“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so fucking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”

it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.

“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.

you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.

“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.

“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”

“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.

“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.

“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.

“i’ll never turn that down.”

the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.

you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.

but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.

your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.

you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.

you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.

you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.

“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.

“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.

there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.

“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.

it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.

this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.

there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.

you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.

“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.

this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.

you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.

“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you fucking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.

no use tip-toeing around it now.

“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.

“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.

a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”

this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.

“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”

matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.

he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.

“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.

his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.

“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.

matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.

“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.

it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.

“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.

“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.

“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.

it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.

“i do.”

“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.

he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.

his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.

it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.

matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.

“so fucking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.

you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.

you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.

“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.

you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.

matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.

you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.

the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.

but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.

the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.

“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.

matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.

his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.

“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, cock pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.

“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.

he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.

“you’re gonna look at yourself while i fuck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.

you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.

he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.

your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.

“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all fucking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.

skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.

“shit, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.

“fuck.”

he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.

“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.

you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.

“i’m so close, right there babe.”

matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.

you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.

“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”

his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.

“fuck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.

two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so fucked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.

he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.

you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.

you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.

“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.

“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.

you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.

you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.

“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to fuck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.

“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a fucking goofball.

you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.

his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.

“woah. no fucking way”

#matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #fanfic #roommate au #smut

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sugurusdiscordmoderator · 2 months

Note

Halo bby! <3

Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔

hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)

Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:

I didn’t proof read this my apologies

MDNI

cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.

—

You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!

‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’

After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.

But oh, you could not relate.

After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.

Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks

“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.

“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.

“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”

Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.

“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.

“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”

You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.

“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.

You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.

Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.

He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.

Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.

While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.

That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.

“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.

You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.

You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.

“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”

Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉

You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.

You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.

“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.

Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!

“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.

“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.

You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.

“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.

“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.

“No baby, I want to face the other way.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.

You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.

Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.

Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”

Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.

“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”

“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.

You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.

“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.

“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.

“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.

“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?

You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.

“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.

His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”

Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”

You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.

Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.

“Say it again…” he moans.

“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.

“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.

“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck

“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,

“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.

Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.

“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.

“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before

“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.

“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.

His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…

“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!

You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.

“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.

“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.

Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.

He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.

“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.

You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.

“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.

“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.

He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.

“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.

Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.

You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.

“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.

You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.

“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.

You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.

You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”

His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”

You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”

“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.

“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.

You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.

Dear Doctor Yeager,

Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.

- world famous Satoru Gojo

he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk requests #sugurusdiscordmoderator

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kairiscorner · 10 months

Text

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

ok but like imagine miguel finding your social media and like

miguel was never one to initiate having a social media account, he found it as a worthless distraction from such important work, it was an idle indulgence for attention-hungry people that he found no interest in. you did a whole lot of convincing to get him to sign up for an instagram, when every time you pitched the idea to him, he always declined before you could even finish.

it was only when lyla made an instagram account for miguel by your request that he was finally introduced to the world of social media. "i still believe it was because you wanted an instagram." miguel muttered as lyla kept a tab open, scrolling and liking through the spider people in the spider society's posts. "so what if i did? you need it anyway." she responded as miguel side-eyed her. "what would i even need it for?" "stalking them!" lyla said cheerily, pertaining to you, who kept urging miguel to get social media.

"i would neve–" miguel was about to speak up, but his monitor's display was replaced by the image of your instagram's profile. "they went on vacation, right? i'm betting they posted a lot of photos about it. according to my statistics, they post every 25 minutes on the–" "i'm not looking through this." miguel said as he tried exiting the tab, but lyla had it locked on his monitor. "just give in, mig." she said with a teasing tone as miguel grumbled.

reluctantly, miguel did as the AI assistant said, and scrolled through your account. he scrolled through picture after picture, and though he enjoyed seeing these pictures of you... he was unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do. "so what do i do, just keep scrolling?" "you hit that little heart icon, see what happens." lyla suggested, and miguel did as he was told. "...okay, what now?" he asked her, confused. "wait for it..."

suddenly, a message appeared in miguel's inbox. lyla opened it for him, and it was from you. "YOU GOT INSTA??????" was your message to him, with little screaming cat emojis following the message. lyla teased miguel as he typed out his reply. "i did." he messaged, while you replied almost immediately. "and i see you liked my pic <3" "i did?" "yeah, i'm glad you like what you saw :>" "no problem and they really were adorable to look at."

"'adorable'? really?" lyla asked him, unimpressed as miguel's face got all flustered. "mind your business." he snapped back as he got a reply from you. "i'll be the first one to like all your pics, boss (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧" miguel chuckled to himself a little when he saw that kaomoji in your message and smiled as he thought of you waiting for him to post something for you to like.

the sound of a camera shutter was heard next to miguel as lyla went on her end of miguel's instagram and posted a photo of miguel smiling widely and getting all flustered in the face. your username was tagged in the caption as lyla hit 'post', and soon... miguel got the notification: you liked his photo. miguel's eyes widened at two things: you liked his photo, he posted a photo? miguel turned to face lyla as she grinned, folded her arms over her chest and mouthed him a 'nailed it' before she logged off.

miguel wasn't too mad about it, he could figure out how to delete it on his own, but a part of him didn't want to. the fact you liked it... it sent a warmth through his whole body and made him smile a little wider. maybe he'd keep this whole social media thing going, it wouldn't hurt, right?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year

Note

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Can you do a 20, 27, 31 and 93 with a virgin!fem!reader x Kai Anderson where he finds out by some darkweb site that the reader is a virgin, and he gives her her first time lol <3

Benefactor - Kai Anderson

x virgin!fem!reader

cw: smut with a plot, corruption and size kink, loss of virginity, mentions of a knife

wc: I cut it down to 3.7k lolll!

@evanpetersfansblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud@laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler @spill-the-t @hihidora

Kai didn't know what he was searching for. Until he found you.

The basement was dark, the only light evidently emitting from the desktop screen. Kai had found himself down a deep, dark rabbit hole of drugs, guns and all sorts of illegal videos. He'd spent so much wasted time consumed by the screen in front of him, he'd almost scrolled passed your ad.

Take my Virginity, Give me $10k for College

To say Kai was intrigued was an understatement. He'd clicked on your ad with curiosity, sighing deeply as he flicked through your photos. Kai could feel the innocence radiating off you from the screen. To think such a sweet girl was so eager to give it all away made Kai's cock twitch.

He zoned in on your photos, leaning forward with his nose almost pressed against the desktop. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to twirl your soft hair around his fingers. How it would smell. How gentle you'd be, and how easy it would be to stimulate you. How supple your skin would be under his calloused fingers and every little whine he'd force out of you. How tight and wet you'd be, squirming under him as you squeezed around his cock. Milking him of all the cum he had.

After almost no consideration, Kai decided that you'd have to be his for the taking.

So he messaged you.

You were surprised to see that your ad had gotten some attention. You'd wondered how long it would take for some sick, twisted pervert to take the bait. The answer: one day. His profile was so unknown; no photo or anything about himself that might interest you. You almost didn't open your inbox. Yet, your eyebrows knitted in confusion opening his message.

hey, 30 yo and willing to do whatever it takes to be the one to fill ur dreams

Thinking your ad would attract men much older, you were pleasantly surprised there was only a decade difference between you. You bite down on your thumb nail, your chin rested on the palm of your hand in concentration.

a picture, maybe?

Anticipating his response, the fingers on your other hand drum softly against your desk. He was just online.

Within minutes, he'd sent back his response. Your gaze followed your cursor as you clicked on a censored .jpeg file. Your surprised reaction, instant, as you drank in his appearance. Handsome, dark eyes and long, blue hair. He wore a long black coat. his legs clad in black jeans. Combat boots on his feet. He looked like he belonged on the dark web, but never in a million years did you think he'd click on your ad. Nor did you think you'd be remotely attracted to the person who did.

Your potential benefactor went by the name of Kai. He was strangely polite and considerate. The thought that maybe he wasn't real crossed your mind.

Despite your suspicions, you'd found yourself parked outside Kai's desolate motel the next day. This was your last hope at a future, you had nothing to lose.

Putting on a parka and beanie, you exited your car. You knew that Kai would be in room 206. With the cash. All you had to do was knock a few times.

With a burst of courage, you set out to find room 206. Your teeth chattered in the cold. You tried hugging your parka close for warmth. You drone in on the room numbers as you ascend the outdoor stairwell to the second floor. Without long, you were in front of Kai's room.

Suddenly hesitant, you freeze parallel with the door. Fear will not get the better of you. He won't hurt you, you have a photo of his license.

You finally knock on his door.

It felt like years before the door finally opened. From the inside, the heater warms your shaking body immediately.

You look up from your shoes to see Kai looking down at you. Somehow he looked even better than the grainy photos. He smiled as stepped off to the side to allow you room to enter. You take the invitation. A sense of relief washes over you as the blood rushes back to your fingers.

"Hey."

Kai slides the deadbolt and his hands sit in his coat pockets. The coat he wore in his photos.

"Hey," you reply softly, observing Kai's face.

"Nice to finally meet you, doll," Kai removes his hand from his pocket to offer you a handshake.

You slide your cold hand into his, satisfied with his warmth.

"You too, I didn't think you were real," you blurt nervously. Kai turns to hang his coat behind the door.

"Real as it gets," Kai chuckles, "I'm honoured I get to help with college."

Kai offers to take your parka. He hangs it with his own jacket and turns towards the bed. He sits on the edge and pats the spot next to him.

You fidget with the sleeves as you sit beside him. You notice his intoxicating scent immediately.

"Still cold?" He asks. Every word he speaks is accompanied by a minty coolness.

"Huh?"

Kai points at your chest. Right to where your nipples stand out from under your white shirt. You offer Kai an awkward smile.

"Oh, it's okay, it's warm in here, really," you reassure. Kai just laughs.

Shifting closer to you, he places a hand on your knee. Your body stiffens in surprise. His strong, veiny hand grips onto the skin of your thigh. You shiver to his touch.

"Where's the money?" You ask, attempting to remind Kai why you're here.

"In the bag. Have a look."

Kai gets up and encourages you to follow him to the corner of the room. A small bag sits on a dining table. You watch in anticipation as he unzips the bag, revealing a small stack of cash. The band reads "$10,000".

"Can I touch it?" You question with innocent eyes.

He nods and passes you the cash. It takes everything in you not to bring it to your nose to smell it. It would be yours soon.

You secure the money back in the bag and follow Kai back to the bed.

Before you can sit beside him, Kai grabs a hold of your hips. He positions you between his legs without a word.

"Why are you still a virgin?" He speaks suddenly. His eyes hungrily rake down your body. He thought he might break you if he squeezed too tight.

"Um, I dont know. Never felt comfortable with anyone, I guess," you reply timidly. Kai's fingers begin to bunch up the hem of your shirt.

"Hm," Kai’s lips form a thin, straight line, "is it okay if I take this off?"

You nod and allow Kai to pull your shirt over your head. You hadn’t worn a bra underneath. Suddenly, your bare breasts were on display for him.

He groans as you stand tall for him. You inhale a few deep breaths to try ease your nervousness.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?" Kai's hands return to your body. His thumbs trace up from your hips and settle under your tits. You'd never experienced something so intimate before. His hands felt like velvet and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Thank you," you mutter reluctantly. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as Kai’s thumbs flick over your sensitive, already taut nipples.

His teasing eases as his hands travel back down the curves of your body.

"Is this okay for you?" He asks sweetly, "have you ever had someone touch you before?"

"Yes,” you squeak out, “and no."

His fingers hook into the waistband of your tights and panties. He pulls them off your legs agonisingly slow.

A string of arousal drips from your core and sticks to your panties.

"Does it feel good? To be touched?" Kai already knows the answer. He silently admires your bare and vulnerable body standing before him. He loves how easily you respond to his touch.

"Yes," you admit, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to build some friction. Your body was so easily aroused, it was pathetically humiliating.

"Lay down," Kai instructs, shifting to give you the space to lay on the bed.

You lay back on the bed with shaky breaths. Your legs bend at the knee and your ankles stay clamped together.

Kai steps away from the bed and strips to a pair of grey boxers. The sight alone ignites a dull pulse between your legs.

He looked like he’d walked straight out of a men’s fitness magazine. Kai was beautiful and carried this dangerous confidence with him. For a moment, it felt like you’d met a more traditional way, and not though the dark web.

Kai lays beside you, and clings onto your opposite hip. He leans in and his lips ghost over yours. Even just a hint of feeling them on yours was exciting to you.

"I knew I had to have you," he whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek, “you’re so delicate.”

Kai trailed gentle kisses to the corner of your mouth. Your core didn’t let up; continuing to pulse in ramped need.

His lips suddenly meet yours. They move in perfect synchronicity with yours. His warm tongue prods at your tightened lips, begging to explore the inside of your mouth. You open your mouth, moaning softly as his tongue takes on yours in a sticky battle for dominance.

Your thighs rub together as Kai's softly pinches your erect nipple. His mouth leaves yours and instead, attaches to one of your hardened peaks. He swirls his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. A low rumble works its way from the back of his throat.

Kai's cock twitches as he hears your first whimper of pleasure. He sinks his teeth softly into your perked bud hoping to get a small whine from you. Your cunt weeps with every noise you make. It begged to be attended to.

"You make such pretty sounds," Kai whispers against your skin as his kisses travel downwards.

You watch with heavy eyes as he trails kisses from your breast to your hip bone. He places a firm hand on your knee. You lurch forward and your mouth opens to object.

"Don’t talk, just spread your legs," he uses light force on your knee to open your legs. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you’re exposed fully to him.

Kai situates his head between your open legs and sucks in a shuddering breath.

He positions his fingers over your clit, applying enough pressure to have your hips jolt into his hand.

"Someone is needy," he hums, admiring your glistening cunt as it clenches around nothing.

"Kai," his name rolls off your lips pleadingly. Kai uses a single finger to dip between your folds and scoop your arousal. He pops his finger in his mouth and closes his eyes contently at the taste.

He opens his eyes and they peer hungrily into yours. He was silently asking to go down on you.

"Please," you whine in torment.

Kai wraps his arms around your thighs and brings your pussy impossibly closer to his face.

He sets out to work straight away, drawing your small, swollen clit between his wet lips and sucking on it softly. The foreign spike in pleasure had your body trembling.

Kai sets a flat tongue against your clit, before licking a thick stripe to your entrance. He probes inside with the tip of his tongue. He was already obsessed with the way you tasted.

"Your little pussy is perfect, made just for me," Kai mumbles against your pussy. The vibrations shoot through your core.

In response, your hips buckle up to meet his face. But Kai continues to slurp and suck at your heat. His palms lay flat against your hips to hold you in place as he pleasures your pussy. He wanted to get as many sounds out of you as possible.

A rising heat forms in your lower abdomen and you squirm under Kai's touch. Your orgasm builds rapidly as your walls continue to pulse,

Kai takes the opportunity to toy at your entrance with the pad of his thumb. He eventually sinks it inside you. The stretch is only minimal, but you still let out a small cry.

"Shh, it's okay," he reassures you, looking up at you and noticing your discomfort.

He begins to move his thumb, thrusting it slowly inside you. He hushes your every cry, until they switch to small moans.

"How's that feel?" Kai asks, removing his thumb and using it to brush slick over your clit.

"Better. It feels good," you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. You needed to get a better look at what he was doing to you.

"I'm gonna put in two now. Okay?" He doesn’t wait for a response, instead sliding his big fingers inside you.

His fingers fit snugly inside you. You grip around him with uncertainty. The deeper he plunges, the more uncomfortable it gets.

Another cry pushes past your lips as he pushes his fingers in knuckle deep.

"That's it," he coos, "you're doing so well, baby."

His consolation makes you relax and soon he's able to curl his fingers up to where it swells to his touch.

Kai lets out a low grown as your tiny cries turn into desperate gasps for air.

Your legs spread further apart as you approach your peak. You cover your mouth with your hands to hush your moans.

“Oh Kai, I’m sorry I’m gonna-”

“Don’t be sorry, let go doll. You’re allowed to cum,” Kai continues to lap at your swollen clit until a feverish heat pulsates through your body.

Kai moans against your pussy as your ever-tightening hole clenches in time with the pulse of your hardened bud. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you in strong waves.

When you’d come down from your high, Kai pulls away, panting for air. He wipes the slick off his chin with the back of his hand. You look at him in awe with doe-like eyes, never thinking that your dark web experience would be even remotely close to this.

“Come here,” Kai says softly, moving off the bed to stand at its foot. You sit up and position yourself on all fours to crawl over to him.

Your face is met with his clothed erection. You notice the tiny wet patch where the outline of his tip is. Your mouth waters thinking of what he has hiding under the fabric of his boxers. It was unlike you to be so ravenous for any man.

“Stick out your tongue,” Kai tucks his forefinger and thumb under your chin and brings your face up to look at his.

You maintain eye contact as your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip and then sticks out.

Kai pulls down his boxers, never once breaking eye contact. He positions his leaky tip over the warm expanse of your tongue. He tasted salty, a flavour you weren’t expecting.

Kai runs his tip hesitantly across your tongue. You begin to drool down your chin from a build up of spit.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Kai maintains a firm grip on your chin as he forces your mouth open.

“That’s it,” he groans, sliding the swollen, angry tip of his cock into your mouth, “just like that, baby”. You hold your breath as his cock fills your mouth. He rocks his hips slowly into the back of your throat.

Kai lets out a soft moan as he feels your tongue on the underside of his cock, sliding from the middle of his shaft to the sensitive slit indenting his tip.

“Such a pretty little mouth,” he says with a satisfied sigh. Unable to hold your breath any longer, you discover you can breathe from your nose.

His hand lays steadily on the top of your head as he guides his cock deeper into your throat. You gag as he nudges the back of your throat. He holds your head securely in place. Panic sets in as you look up at him with a tear cascading down your cheek. You were hoping he’d take it as a sign to let go. But Kai persists, fucking your mouth in a way that has your throat ache.

Placing a hand on his thigh, you try and push him away. Kai eventually takes the hint, yanking your mouth from around his cock, leaving a rope of saliva still stuck to him.

You double over as you cough to soothe your throat. You swallow all the spit that accumulated in your mouth. Kai chuckles at your inexperience. He found your innocence amusing knowing he’s about to take it away. He softly pushes you back onto the bed.

“Bit much for your first time?” Kai asks as you lay with your legs spread for him. You nod; not feeling able to form a coherent sentence just yet.

“It felt so good though,” he says with a small whine, “I loved watching you choke on it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as he nudges his tip between your soaked folds. Your breath catches in your throat as his cock made the first advance inside you, splitting you open only slightly. Your cunt transuded with a bountiful amount of slick, seeping down the tip of Kai’s cock and drenching the sheets beneath you. Your body was more than ready for Kai. He thrust his hips forward, burying himself entirely in your cunt.

His eyes become impossibly darker as his pupils grew triple in size.

The moan he lets out after being completely surrounded by you was low and animalistic. Your hands shoot out to grab a hold of Kai’s shoulders as a pang of discomfort shoots through your core. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you hopelessly stare up at the man above you.

“Kai, it hurts,” you whine as a tear falls. Kai’s expression doesn’t soften like you expect it too. He pulls out entirely, to just to slam back into you for a second time. You yelp in surprise and dig your nails into his shoulder blades at the sudden fullness. Kai begins to slowly rock his hips. Your mouth falls open and you squeeze your eyes shut as you try and adjust to his size.

Kai can barely think straight, preoccupied by the way he’s stretching you out. He wonders how he managed to fit himself inside something so small and tight.

As the tears continue to run down your face, Kai wipes under your eye with his thumb.

“Kai! Please... talk to me…” you plead, digging your fingernails into his skin deeper. You were sure you’d leave bloodied crescent-moon indents in their wake.

Kai doesn’t notice your pleading nor the pain your fingernails were trying to inflict. He was consumed by a need to finish inside you.

Had you even thought of a condom? Kai certainly didn’t. He knew his intentions were to stuff his cum so far inside you it couldn’t spill out.

You were his, and unbeknownst to you, this arrangement was far from over. Like Kai promised, he’d do anything to get his hands on you. Even if that meant he had to do it the hard way.

Your mind began to race with irrational thoughts. You’d finally built up the courage to open your eyes again. Much to your disbelief, Kai’s were closed, and his face was twisted in some sort of sick pleasure. Yet, every thrust of his hips earnt another cowardly whimper from you. You were beginning to think you’d never adjust to his size.

“Y/N,” your name sultrily rolls of his tongue making your ears perk up, “you’re taking me so well, baby.”

Your lips curl into a small smile hearing his voice again.

“I’m gonna cum soon, okay? But I need to go a little faster, do you think you can take it?” Kai’s eyes flutter open and suddenly he’s peering down at you. You nod, mentally preparing yourself to be at his disposal. Kai leans down and plants a small kiss on your cheek.

“Say it. I need to hear you say it,” Kai growls, his fists balling the sheets by your head. You open your mouth to speak but your lips quiver in fear. You tongue juts out to wet them.

“Yes, Kai,” you respond finally, before another gasp pushes its way passed your lips.

Kai shows no mercy, snapping his hips furiously. The bedhead hits the wall again and again. The subtle knock rings loudly in your ears alongside every soft groan your cunt squeezes out of Kai.

He feels so deep inside you that you swear he’s rubbing up against your cervix.

“Oh fuckfuckfuck,” Kai seethes between grit teeth as he chases his own orgasm. Your core ached, but you still ran a hand reassuringly through his hair. You weren’t sure if it would help, or how to help, but you knew once he was finished, it would be done.

Kai snatches your hand in his, squeezing it in a tight fist as he cums. His last few thrusts were slow and sloppy.

He pulls out finally, pulling his glistening cock away from your cunt. You hadn’t noticed the blood until you reached down to cup yourself. It felt a lot wetter than usual.

“It’s normal,” Kai could read your panicked expression as you sat up in the bed.

“It is?” you asked, still perplexed. This wasn’t how you ever pictured it. It wasn’t supposed to hurt and you weren’t supposed to bleed.

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly, pulling up his boxers without cleaning himself off.

You nod, exhaling as you get off the bed to dress yourself. Your body continues to throb and ache as you slide on your tights and pull your shirt over your head. You wondered when everything would stop hurting.

Once fully dressed, you turned back towards Kai, prepared to seal the deal and leave this motel room.

Nothing was ever that easy with Kai.

When you’d turned, you were face to face with a knife, held out inches from your face and glimmering in the overhead light. Your eyes zero in on two more people wearing eery clown costumes.

You freeze in place, taking a precautionary step back. A maniacal smile spreads across Kai’s face as the clowns step forward.

“Kai?” you ask softly, raising your shaking hands up in the air to show you weren’t a threat. This was all too good to be true. Who the fuck are they and where did they come from?

“The money? Kai?” you try again, your words only coming out a whisper.

“You get your money, sweetheart,” Kai reassures you and the clowns laugh. He pulls something that looks like a piece of rope from his pocket.

“...But I’m not done with you. Yet.”

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters requests #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters imagine #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #ahs kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #kai anderson fan fiction #kai anderson x reader #ahs fanfic #ahsfx #ahs fandom #ahs cult

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ynbabe · 6 months

Text

Fake texts au- pt.11 bffs with the rookies+ Melbourne in the summer

guys y/n's alr been doing so much idk how many more scandals I can come up with 😭 pls lemme know what situations yall would like to see these 4 in hehe 🫣 comment it or dm me my inbox is always open to yall 🥰

| Masterlist |

It had been a long few weeks before you could see your best friends once again, not having been able to attend any of the races for the rest till the summer break, but now? You were finally free and ready to cause problems for your favourite people.

You laughed to yourself as you landed at Melbourne Airport, having been to the Piastri household many times, so much so that his mother had begun putting a stocking out for you at Christmas, knowing that you'd probably be celebrating with the Aussies, much like Logan would be. He too had his own stocking.

You'd called his Mother beforehand, asking if it was okay to come over and she'd told you, she'd be keeping your favourite Shepard's pie ready. She'd also told you that Logan was staying over as well, having arrived with Oscar.

You remember all the times the three of you had spent in Oscar's room as teenagers, talking about everything and nothing at all them complaining and marvelling about racing, you listening and giving advice wherever you could. You went to them with all your problems and they to you.

You trusted each other with your deepest, darkest, secrets. You, Logan and Oscar, and then you met Arthur, and he had been an unlikely addition to your peculiar little group, but the three of you had soon come to realise just how similar the boy was, and decided it was only fair to adopt him into your weirdness.

"Two hours!" you whisper-yelled at yourself, looking at how much time you'd have to spend in the uber to get to the house, maybe more with traffic. So you did what you did best, just to pass the time.

You got out of the app, not knowing how much chaos could come from one simple tweet. Turning on some mind-numbing show on Netflix, you settled in till you could be with your best friends again.

The two hours went by faster than she realised as the Uber pulled up to the house, she told the driver to pull over, earning her a weird look. She paid him his fare and took her luggage right behind the house. Thankfully the old trellis was still there, a little rotten and overgrown with vines but still there.

She climbed up with practised ease, settling just outside her friend's window, where Oscar and Logan had been sharing the Aussies' room, just like when they were young.

She sat just outside the view of the two boys Logan who was sprawled on the bed scrolling through Instagram and Oscar on the fluffy mat right below, snacking on nachos, passing some to the American as they spoke.

She couldn't help but giggle, stopping as she almost slipped off the roof.

She pulled out her phone, trying not to fall to her death or alert the residents of the house.

She moved to see the boys' reaction, only to see him smiling, kicking his feet up.

"Oh my god, this is fucking adorable," she whispered to herself, clicking a picture, how they still hadn't noticed her was a mystery, weren't F1 drivers supposed to super attentive?

She went back to texting the unsuspecting boy.

"Huh?" you heard the boy whisper to himself, perfect, both were distracted, now was your chance.

You jumped through the open window, making the two jump and scream. It was high-pitched and loud, making the brunette's parents run up to their room.

"IS IT THE SPIDER AGAIN?" His mother yelled, "OH HELL, DID A SNAKE GET IN?" His father questioned, as they pushed open the door, eyes wide looking around their son's room, only to find the laughing girl and their boys standing on the far end of the bed, hiding behind one other.

"How do you always fall for that?" The girl asked laughing at the prank she had been playing on her friends since she started coming home with them from their races at 16.

"Oh, sweetie, how was your flight?" His mother said, pulling you in for a hug, she ruffled your hair a little as she held you at arm's length to look at you, "It's been far too long since you visited!" She smiled and said.

His father patted her shoulder as well, "Oscar, go get her bags." he said while walking out of the room, making the boy still in shock complain, "But dad,", "Now, Oscar!" Was the only reply that came, making the girl stick out her tongue at her friend.

"How are you my parent's favourite!?" He screamed walking out the door.

"Actually, it Y/n, me and theeeeen you," Logan spread gasoline on the fire, "SHUT UP LOGAN," the boy threw a few nacho chips at the blond.

The girl let herself fall on the bed, taking Logan's phone off the charger, the boy followed suit, resting his head on her stomach, the girl lowering her phone so he could see what she was seeing as well.

She opened Twitter to find her simple tweet had practically gone viral.

"Doesn't that bother you?" he asked making the girl raise her brow, "All these people who don't even know you and they hate you,"

She hummed as she wrapped a coil of blond hair around her finger, letting it loose and moving onto another, "I mean not really?" she started, "Sure it hurts when they call me just for hanging out with yall but it doesn't matter much cause at the end of the day I'm hanging out with yall," she explained, "It'd matter if y'all said something cause you know, you know me, but these don't mean shit, bruv," she said further, showing him the screen, where someone had suggested a club.

"Sounds good," he replied, beginning to doze off.

The flight had taken a lot out of the young girl, the jet lag finally catching up, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE IN THESE BAGS-", Oscar yelled as he walked into the room but quickly shut up as he saw his friends fast asleep. He pulled out his phone and quickly took a photo of the two for blackmail reasons and pulled a blanket over them.

Why he had to sleep on an air mattress, on the floor, in his own house, was a mystery to him but all of them had grown used to unpredictable chaos when they were together.

what i wouldn't do to have her life 😮‍💨 also next Y/n and Arthur get home aloned and his brothers go through the 5 stages of grief thinking they'd gotten their 20-year-old brother and his friend kidnapped.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff

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ayyy-pee · 6 months

Text

Walking After You

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: This is just so unlike him. He doesn't do this, he doesn't go ghost, vanish without a trace. He never leaves you in the dark about what he's up to, where he's going or when he'll be back.

And yet, each and every call goes straight to his voice-mail, leaving you hanging on every word he says through his answering machine.

Warnings: Major character death, grief/mourning, unanswered questions. Might cry I'm sorry, Shibuya aftermath

Art by: prawnm33

He should have come back to you.

He promised.

He told you he'd be right back.

Minutes turn to hours. Hours turn to days. And days turn into weeks and you still haven't heard from your husband.

You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you can hardly breathe without him.

He should have come back to you.

This is just so unlike him. He doesn't do this, he doesn't go ghost, vanish without a trace. He never leaves you in the dark about what he's up to, where he's going or when he'll be back.

And yet, each and every call goes straight to his voice-mail, leaving you hanging on every word he says through his answering machine.

You actually haven't been able to reach anyone at his job, Jujutsu Technical School, either. You've left countless messages, meek at first, soon becoming frantic and desperate pleas for someone - anyone to call you back. You've sent emails, all polite until you reach your boiling point and spam their inbox with bodies of messages riddled with caps lock and profanity.

But you need them to understand. They need to understand that he was supposed to come back to you. You need him to come back to you.

You've even driven up to the school to find it barren, empty, save for a few staff who are just as lost as you when you question where everyone is. They don't appear to know a thing.

You visit his office and find it just the way he always leaves it, the photo of you and him on your wedding day sitting neatly at the center of his desk. You remember his words.

“So I have a reminder of why I do this everyday. A reminder of what I need to make it home to.”

And you bite down on your lip until you can taste the bitter, metallic tang of blood as you gently swipe away the thin film of dust beginning to cover the frame.

He should have come back to you.

You sit in his chair and you swear you can feel his presence with you as your eyes rake over his belongings. Pens neatly lined along the corner of his desk. An empty coffee mug you'd gotten him for one of your anniversaries. Books that he's yet to touch.

You know he hasn’t touched them because he has a habit of placing a slip of paper at the top of the page he's left off and these books have none. A small film of dust is beginning to form on them and you know he hasn’t been here recently. It doesn’t appear anyone has except for you.

This place never holds any answers for you and every visit pulls you further and further into your pit of despair. So you leave empty handed.

It's only when you're home, phone in hand as you scroll through photos that you take your time to think about events of the past few weeks.

On October 31st, 2018, you kissed your husband goodbye, smiling when he promised you he'd return shortly.

“I love you, my heart,�� He told you, hand coming to hold the back of your neck as he kissed you once more. Deeply, passionately, lovingly. The way he always did. He poured all of the love he had for you into that kiss. You know it. You felt it.

He should have come back to you.

Now you clutch your phone in your hand, eyes filled to the brim with tears and laser focused on his contact picture. Smiling a smile only reserved for you. His sharp cheekbones accentuate his beautiful features as his blonde hair sways wildly in the wind. An impromptu date to a vineyard. His idea, of course.

He was always the planner.

Always knew what was next. Always a step ahead.

So why hadn't he planned for this?

Your hands tremble violently as you hit the call button. Fat tears fall freely from your eyes and onto your screen as you stare at his now distorting picture. You hope above all else, he picks up this time. You hope to hear a voice that isn’t pre-recorded. You just want him to answer with a “Hi, my love”.

But it takes you straight to voice-mail.

“You've reached Nanami Kento. Leave a message and I'll return your call shortly.”

Your sobs come uncontrollably now, wracking through your body viciously. The phone beeps, his voice-mail recording every choked cry, every plea for him to pick up just once. You're gasping for air, sputtering as you clutch at your chest. This pain is unbearable. You want answers, you want to crawl out of this darkness that's been forced upon you, but you can't.

Not until you know what happened.

Not until you know why he never came back to you.

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writingquestionsanswered · 8 months

Note

hi! it's the pregnancy-as-plot-device anon again! thank you for your answer to my ask. I'm so grateful

could you help me on how to write a scene where the readers know that the main couple had (s*x) together but without a smut and a "waking up together nak*d* scene too? I just don't wanna make my main female character pop up pregnant out of nowhere and don't want to write an explicit chapter too.

Thank you so much.

Non-Explicit S*x Scene

** Note: I am choosing to follow the text convention Anon used (s*x) here. If that bothers you, keep scrolling.

There are a few different ways you can handle a s*x scene without being explicit or having them wake up together naked.

1 - Fade to Black - This is where you "fade out" before things get too spicy. What's great about this method is you can control how little or how much you want to show before that fade out occurs. You can do as little as having one lead the other into the bedroom and the door closes (leaving the rest up to the reader's imagination), or you could have them start kissing and then fade out, or you could ramp up toward some spicier making out before you fade out. And the fade doesn't have to be them going into the bedroom and closing the door. You can get a little poetic instead... maybe they start kissing, and the narrator says, "They spent the rest of the night getting lost in one another's souls." It's not explicit... it's not even specific, but it's reasonable for the reader to guess what exactly they got up to.

2 - Implicit Description - With implicit description, the reader is present for intercourse, or at least some of it, but it's described in a way that leaves things to the reader's imagination. It's more about emotion, thought, and feeling than describing body parts and what they're doing. It's poetic, like the "getting lost in one another's souls" bit, but more emotional and descriptive. Just not explicit.

3 - The Morning After, Just Not Naked - You can still skip to the morning after without the couple having to wake up naked together or waking up together at all. A day can begin when one character wanders into the kitchen to find the other making pancakes. Maybe they exchange a sly grin. Maybe one says something like, "Last night was amazing," or teases, "I see you found your underwear..." Here again, it's pretty clear what happened the night before without explicitly stating it. It doesn't matter whether or not the reader figures out they went all the way... they know something happened, so it's not going to be a huge shocker if someone ends up pregnant.

4 - Hinting Through Dialogue - Another option is to have one or both characters talk about it--not with each other as in the "last night was amazing" type of remark, but with other characters. For example, maybe Character A goes to meet friends at a coffee shop the next day, and Character C asks, "So, how did it go with Character B last night?" and Character A blushes, leading Character C to say, "NO! You didn't?! Did you two...?" Now it's out in the open. And this method can be used on its own or to clarify one of the methods above.

5 - Combination of the Above - Just as you can match #4 with any previous method for clarification, you can use any of these in combination to get the point across. You don't need to hit the reader over the head with it--especially if you're trying to be subtle--but if you combine methods, you'll definitely get the point across.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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itsokbbygrl · 5 months

Text

Old Dogs and New Tricks

Summary: Sarah Miller has always loved her dad, maybe especially today. Years of long days at work and longer nights taking classes and studying have lead to this--his college graduation day. When the Miller family is interrupted during their impromptu picture time, Sarah thinks there might be one more person who could love her dad, too.

Word Count: 3k, one-shot

Rating: T (some swearing)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC

Tags: FLUFF, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, BRUSH YOUR TEETH AND FLOSS AFTER THIS ONE!!!, mild swearing, Sarah Miller POV, briefly Joel Miller POV, likely some University of Texas at Austin graduation inaccuracies, adult learner gets his diploma yay, Uncle Tommy is an A+ wingman, almost zero description of reader aside from having hair long enough to tuck behind an ear, wearing a dress, and having a shimmering laugh, but Joel and Sarah both refer to reader as a woman and use she/her pronouns, no y/n, no 2nd person perspective, reader/OFC has an unspecified family outside of 1 sister

A/N: Helloooooooooo this is the first thing I've ever published here holy shiiiiiiit. I was scrolling on Pinterest for interior design inspo and came across this adorable photo and immediately went, "omg Joel and Sarah core."

So naturally, I had to write it and set it in the HBO TLOU timeline. Sarah is 10 and we're going to suspend our disbelief about the technology of the year 2000 a little bit okay??? Digital cameras were not that good and very expensive and most people still did not have cell phones, but THE MILLERS DO OK. Anyway without further ado, I give you that (not so) old man doing something adorable. I hope you like it! My DMs and inbox are always open (yes I lovingly refer to you all as my little chickens, come say hi to me!). Reblogs and comments are appreciated per usual. 💖 Banner and title card made by me with the help of Canva :)

Sarah loves a lot of things about her life–her soccer team, her fourth grade teacher, all of the friends she’s made in her 10 years of life–but if you asked her what she loved most of all, she would say her family, hands down. Her family is small–just she, her dad, and her uncle Tommy–but their love for each other is anything but. It’s been the three of them her whole life and she’s never felt like there were any missing pieces, until one fateful Saturday in May.

Sarah has spent nearly her entire life being told how proud her dad is of her, but today is a day Sarah is determined to show her dad how proud she is of him. She knows he tries to hide how stressed he’s been the last few years, how tired, but she’s a smart girl and she, to her dad’s chagrin, notices everything. Sarah almost can’t contain her excitement for her dad as her uncle Tommy parks his truck in the vast expanse of the University of Texas at Austin’s football stadium parking lot. She hops out of the backseat and slams the door like Tommy taught her to make sure it closes all the way on its rusty old hinges, and then bends at her waist to brush any pesky wrinkles from her dress. She wanted to look extra nice for today, trying to tame her thick, curly hair by tying it back in a low bun and fashioning her favorite flower pin on the side, donning her favorite sundress and the sandals her grandma said were nice enough for Sunday church. If they were nice enough for grandma’s church, they were definitely nice enough for her dad’s graduation, she figured.

Sarah finds Tommy around the front of the truck as he’s pulling their entry tickets from his wallet. “Here you go, kiddo,” he says, extending a ticket to her with a smile. She replies her thanks before following him towards the imposing stadium ahead. Tommy helps lead them through the crowd, consistently checking to make sure she’s still near, Sarah offering him a smile each time she catches him looking. Their seats are up high, in the top third of the stadium bleachers. Sarah thinks she hears Tommy mutter something about only getting good seats if you donate a bunch of money under his breath, but she isn’t sure what exactly he means, so she ignores it.

“Do you know where dad’s going to be?” Sarah asks her uncle. She wants to know where to look, doesn’t want to miss a minute of this, and she’s dubbed herself unofficial photographer for the day, so she wants to make sure she knows where to point the camera at all times.

“Not yet, honey. We’ll keep our ears open, they usually announce each college as they come in, so we’ll know when to look for your dad,” Tommy reasons.

“Good plan,” Sarah nods in return, eyes focusing back on the field ahead.

Once it appears the seats have nearly filled, Sarah checks her trusty watch and sees the time has just passed 2:00, the scheduled start time for today’s ceremony. As if she triggered it herself, her head perks up as the sound of brass instruments rings out through the stadium, signaling the start of the ceremony. She watches the entrance of students intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dad.

Sarah turns in her seat and asks, “Uncle Tommy, can I have the camera, please?”

Tommy fishes in his pocket and pulls out the requested camera, placing it in Sarah’s open palm. “Yup, got it right here. You gonna be on photography duty today?” Tommy chuckles as he watches Sarah’s brows pull together just like her dad’s as she fiddles with the buttons on the camera until the settings are to her liking.

“You bet,” Sarah answers, poking her tongue between her teeth as she looks down at the small digital viewfinder. “Can’t see anything, gonna use the zoom and see if I can see any better through the screen.”

Tommy lets out a low whistle, “Smarty pants over here, did we forget your cap and gown? Shouldn’t you be down there?” He jokes and pokes her in the ribs to make her giggle.

“Uncle Tommy! Stop!” She laughs. “I’m trying to focus!”

“Alright, alright, kiddo. I’ll let you focus. Let me know if you find him.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Sarah salutes in return, earning a chuckle out of her uncle.

The McComb School of Business is announced and Sarah sits up a little straighter, refocusing her efforts to capture every important moment. She squints against the afternoon sun, determined to find her dad amongst the long line of pending graduates.

“There!” she points and Tommy follows her finger, trying to find what she’s seeing. “See his hat? I told him he needed to put something on it so we could find him and he told me to go wild, so I did. I knew that orange glitter glue would come in handy.”

Tommy spots him then, laughing when Sarah shows him the picture she’s snapped on the little screen, Joel’s graduation cap adorned with orange glitter glue that reads, “This old dog learned new tricks,” accompanied by two clip art dogs pasted on opposite corners.

“D’you come up with that all on your own, smarty pants?” Tommy asks her.

“Sure did,” Sarah chuffs. “Dad always says, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” when he doesn’t want to learn stuff like the camera or the computer, so I thought it would be funny,” she finishes with a shrug. Tommy silently laughs, his shoulders gently shaking, and Sarah smiles to herself.

If there’s one thing Sarah will take away from this day it’s that graduation ceremonies are long and boring. There are about two minutes where she focuses intently as her dad’s row rises to make their way up to the stage. She diligently keeps the camera pointed his way, snapping pictures every so often. As he prepares to take the stage, she and Tommy stand from their seats.

“Joel Alejandro Miller,” the announcer reads. Sarah and Tommy whoop and cheer as Joel crosses the stage, Sarah keeping the camera trained on her dad, making sure to press the shutter a few times as he shakes hands with the chancellor and receives his diploma. The rest of the ceremony goes by relatively uneventfully, until the graduates are instructed to stand and change their tassels from right to left. There’s a murmur through the audience and then the students erupt in a spirited rendition of, “The Eyes of Texas.” Sarah smiles as she watches the new graduates laugh and sing, throwing arms around friends and pointing to the sky. Once the song ends, the graduates then whoop and throw their caps into the air, and Sarah raises the camera once more to snap a couple final pictures.

The crowd starts to dissipate, attendees making their way towards the exits to find their respective graduates. Sarah looks over the railing of the ramp as she and Tommy work their way down from their seats and watches as the mass of bodies move through the corridor, thinking about how they resemble a school of fish, almost liquid in the way they shift to accommodate obstacles in the hall.

After a few minutes of shuffling, she and Tommy find the exit out of the stadium, heading towards the spot they designated to meet Joel after the ceremony. Sarah spots him first, poking Tommy in the arm and pointing his way. Tommy nods in acknowledgement, giving her the okay to head over. She looks both ways to make sure the coast is clear before breaking out in a jog.

“Dad!” she calls, waving her arms to get Joel’s attention. His natural scowl drops the minute he sees her, face breaking out into a wide grin, and opens his arms as she rushes forward. Sarah meets him with force, earning a quiet, “Oof,” from her dad as she wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him tight.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” Sarah tells him, not letting go, but tipping her head back to look him in the eyes. If she notices the extra glimmer along his waterline, she doesn’t say anything. He pulls her in tighter, giving her small shoulders a squeeze, and Sarah feels the deep rumble of his laughter in her cheek.

“Thanks, babygirl. I’m so glad you came,” Joel tells her, rubbing up and down her back before letting her go from his embrace.

“Hey old man, proud of you brother,” Tommy greets Joel with a smile and a hug, the brothers exchanging firm pats on the back before separating. Joel gives him a half smile and thanks him for coming and for bringing Sarah.

Sarah steps back from their little group and realizes her dad has already taken off his cap and gown, and that just won’t do.

“Dad, where’s your hat and robe?” Sarah chides, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a serious look.

“It was hot, so I took them off,” Joel answers.

“Well, put them back on! We need to get pictures!” Sarah iterates, raising the camera in front of her dad’s face and giving it a shake.

Joel sighs, but relents. “Alright, alright, gimme a second, kiddo, then you can play photographer.” They find an open spot on the lawn and Sarah powers up the camera again, using the viewfinder to ensure the shot is lined up just right.

“Ok, 1, 2, 3…say, “Hook ‘em!”” Sarah says.

Joel smiles and entertains his daughter’s request. “Hook ‘em!” he says, smiling for the camera.

“Ok, this one, hold up your diploma,” Sarah requests and Joel again complies. “Can we do one more?” Sarah asks.

Joel gives her a nod, “Sure thing, honey.”

“Ok, this one, do the Hook ‘Em horns,” Sarah says and she does the gesture with her own small hand. Joel mimics his daughter and smiles for the camera as she snaps the picture. She pulls up the recent shots and turns the camera towards her dad to review them together, unaware that they’ve been watched for the last few minutes.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice interrupts Sarah and Joel from their scrolling and they look up to find a new member has joined their party.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just saw your daughter taking pictures and I thought y’all might want a few together?” Wow, pretty, Sarah thinks as she assesses the stranger.

Joel clears his throat and Sarah turns her head to see her dad’s cheeks have flushed a new shade of pink as he stammers out a, “That’s awful kind of you, darlin’. Thanks for offerin’, we’d love that.” Sarah’s mouth ticks up into a smirk, the dimple she shares with her dad crescenting her cheek. She turns to Tommy and they share a knowing look.

“Thank you, ma’am. You just press this button here,” Sarah hands over the camera and shows the pretty stranger how to operate it.

“Got it, thanks, sweetie,” she replies before bringing the camera’s viewfinder up to her eye and lining up the duo. “Ok, big smiles,” she says and clicks the shutter. She smiles and moves the camera away from her face for a moment to direct, “How about we get one with both of you showing us your best “Hook ‘Em” next,” before once again snapping the photo. “Alright, let’s do one more. Gimme your best silly faces!” and she lets out a shimmering laugh as she presses the shutter a final time.

“Perfect,” she says to the small family, smiling and handing the camera to Joel, their fingers brushing briefly as the camera exchanges hands before both of their eyes lift to meet. Tension lingers only for a moment at the contact before they both let out breathy chuckles. The stranger lifts her hand and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Joel’s gaze following the motion, Sarah’s gaze locked on her father.

“This was real kind of you, darlin’. Thanks again for helping us out,” Joel says, trying to extend the moment just a little longer.

“Oh, it was nothin’. My pleasure, really,” she replies in kind, waving him off, her gaze dropping shyly to the ground. “Well,” she continues, bringing her gaze back to Joel’s, “I better head back or my sister,” she turns her torso and gestures to where her party is standing and carrying on conversation, “will never let me hear the end of it, how I deserted her on her own graduation day after she spent torturous hours sitting through mine a few years back,” She chuckles softly and clasps her hands in front of her, kicking out one foot and cocking her hip slightly to the side.

“Alright, s'pose we better let you get on back then,” Joel replies. Sarah catches a sadness in her dad’s eyes at their pretty stranger’s words. “Thanks again…I know, I know, I’ll stop,” he laughs when she gives him a stink eye at his persistent gratitude. “Have fun with your family. And pass on our congrats to your sister.”

“I will,” she nods before taking a visible breath and waving goodbyes to the three Millers. She turns and heads back towards her own family. Sarah watches her dad watch her the entire time she goes, turning to Tommy and sharing an unspoken conversation before Tommy breaks the silence.

“Alright, brother, why don’t you say hi to your fancy college buddies before we head out. I’ll entertain the sprout for a few minutes. Then we can head out for ice cream,” Tommy says, pulling Sarah into his arms and giving her a soft noogie while she cringes good naturedly.

“Uncle Tommy! Stop, you’re going to mess up my hair!” Sarah complains. Tommy relents and Joel eyes the pair suspiciously, but ultimately agrees. He gives the camera back to Sarah for safekeeping, and she dramatically tells him she’ll protect it with her life. He laughs before leaving the pair on the lawn to find a few of his classmates and professors.

Once he’s out of eye and earshot, Sarah and Tommy form a quick plan and spring into action.

It’s getting late, the sun set, the evening sky dark and air heavy with the remaining heat and moisture from the day. Joel is sat in his makeshift home office at his messy desk, camera in hand, flipping through the pictures Sarah took earlier in the day. She got some pretty good shots, rolling his eyes and shaking his head fondly when he realizes how gaudy his cap looked from the crowd.

He gets to the pictures of he and Sarah together and smiles, loving how happy his little girl looks, how proud she clearly is of him, how much fun they have together. He tries and fails not to think of the beautiful woman who took those pictures earlier, of the jolt of electricity that zipped up his arm and ran through his heart when their fingers touched, and he especially tries not to think about how he never managed to get her name.

Just when he thinks he’s gotten to the end, the silly faces he and Sarah made only hours ago staring back at him through the small camera screen, he notices the number in the upper righthand corner. 24/25. There’s one more. He flips to it curiously, finding a special face looking back at him. A wide toothy smile, hair still tucked behind one ear, gorgeous little sundress that should have been illegal to wear out in public, and…holding a piece of paper? There’s something written on there and Joel desperately wants to know what it says, but for the life of him, he can’t remember how Sarah told him to work the goddamn zoom.

He flips to the picture before, of him and Sarah making silly faces, swallows his pride and prepares himself for the shit he knows he’s about to get from his daughter before bellowing out, “Sarah! Babygirl, can you come here, please? Need you to help me with the camera!”

Sarah bounds into the room, sly grin already plastered on her face. Joel holds out the camera and asks, “How do you work the zoom on this thing again?”

Sarah walks over to her dad and points out the buttons he needs to use. “These right here, the plus sign zooms in, the minus sign zooms out, and you use these,” she moves her finger down to the directional arrow buttons that form a small circle on the lower right side of the camera, “to move the picture around when you’re zoomed in. Make sense?”

“Clear as mud,” Joel replies, giving the buttons a try to make sure he has it before dismissing his daughter, thanking her for her help, and thinks he hears her mutter something about old dogs and new tricks as she leaves the room.

Joel turns his head to make sure Sarah isn’t hanging around before flipping back to the last picture on the digital version of a camera roll. He does as Sarah instructed, presses the plus button until the picture is zoomed in enough that he can read the paper being held up to the camera. No fucking way. He blinks, squints, rubs his eyes, and looks again, but his eyes did not deceive him. Written on the paper in a looping scrawl is undeniably a phone number. Joel leans back in his chair and brings his hand up to his mouth before pulling it down and resting on his lap. He stares at the screen for a moment in disbelief before letting out a low chuckle. He looks away from the screen and over towards the office entrance again, thinking about Tommy and Sarah and their insistence to hang back and let Joel congratulate his classmates and thank his professors.

“Son of a bitch,” Joel murmurs to himself. He shakes his head and looks back at the screen. He holds his gaze there for a minute, then one more, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, punching in the number and hitting the green call button before he loses his nerve.

The line rings once, twice, three times, and Joel thinks maybe this was a mistake, calling a relative stranger after a brief (at most) meeting, but then the ringing stops and a newly familiar voice answers with a soft, “Hello?”

Joel smiles as his anxieties drift away, “Hey, darlin’. Nice to hear your voice again.”

END

Tagging some friends who might be interested: @5oh5 @javierpena-inatacvest @swiftispunk @sawymredfox

#holy shit i actually posted something #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us au #pre outbreak!joel #LJ writes #IT'S A TAG IT'S OFFICIAL

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radioisntdead · 1 month

Text

Ways to piss off an Italian

Alternatively three ways to cartoonishly piss off an Italian

Hazbin hotel x reader [Platonic]

Warnings:

Italian stereotypes, just jokin' around this is all in good fun! I put an Imp OC of mine in as the reader assistant! She just pops in and out to stir things up! Reader's learning to cook other types of food because they've hadn't had to cook for themselves in ages they just had others do it. Ending is a little off but we don't talk about that I finished this at 6 am I need sleep, Angel isn't that pissed mostly dismayed

Good evening folks! This is a side story with Eldritch horror reader and Angel dust because he's Italian, this is somewhat inspired by my own bit of how my younger self made it her mission to piss off Italians because of that Italian TikTok duo back in 2020-2021 [???] She did not succeed as she did not know any Italians and all she did was eat spaghetti noodles with anything but a fork.

this is also the 100 followers special! Now at the time of posting we are FAR past that at 207! but better late then never! Thank you so much for the support, I genuinely did not think this many folks would like my silly little writings, I adore getting y'all's requests, comments, and just appearing in my inbox genuinely it makes my day thank you! And I hope you enjoy!

Angel Dust took great pride in his Italian heritage and culture, as he was truly Italian.

Unfortunately he lived with a centuries old Eldritch horror who may or may not have lived in Europe during the bubonic plague and didn't understand the more "modern'' Italian or Italy at all, and others that didn't understand the "sacredness" of the Italians.

🍝The spaghetti.🍝

You took over cooking in the hotel, you and Alastor had begun fighting over the kitchen, whoever got there first got to cook and today, you were victorious.

You were exploring new recipes you had thus far made spicy tteokbokki and Korean corn dogs, some type of curry that was sonic blue, teriyaki chicken, hummus and other things! You experimented with different flavors, seasonings,

These tasty things would've ended you if you ate it back when you were alive and not dying of the bubonic plague.

Anyways, you decided to give making spaghetti a try because you were in the mood for something fairly easy to make.

As you perused the recipe book while humming along to the songs playing from Alastor's radio show, you nodded noting down the ingredients before pulling out the phone that the little Imp that worked for you had bought you insisting you should have one to contact her instead of hunting her down at random and dragging her away.

You squinted as you scrolled through the few contacts you had until you reached said imp's phone number and slowly texted her a barrage of ingredients to buy.

Cece carefully opened the hotel doors and skittered over to the kitchen, having memorized the route since she delivered ingredients to you almost daily at this point.

You grinned as you took the ingredients from Cece's hands turning around to place them on the counter while she pulled up a chair and sat down waiting for the inevitable "Dear Cece can you cut this" or "Dear Cece can you stir this"

You washed off the tomatoes before slicing in an x and blanching them, you peeled the tomatoes after and diced them up before putting them aside to cut up yellow onions, you gathered them up and placed them into a pan, sprinkling in salt to unleashed the onion liquids and sweetness.

You added in some prechopped garlic and let it saute.

While that was happening you took the tomatoes and crushed them, once done you combined the tomatoes with the rest letting it simmer.

You added other components like herbs, basil and a little olive old at the end just for fun.

You filled up another pot with water to boil, sprinkling a twinge of salt and stirring it in.

You brushed your hands on your apron, as you scooted around to find the box of spaghetti noodles, grinning you opened it and take out the pasta.

It was at this unfortunate moment Angel dust decided to waltz on into the kitchen, intending to see what was for dinner and maybe snag something to munch on, you held the dry pasta over the pot, both hands gripping the ends

"Hey tentacles, what's for- WHAT THE FUCK!''

"Good evening Dearest Angel! I'm making spaghetti!"

You said unfazed as the pasta snapped in half and dropped into the pot as Angel dust watched in pure horror.

"Why would you do that?!" Angel asked, his voice pitched as he asked arms gesturing to the pot of sad broken pasta boiling away.

"Make spaghetti? I didn't think it was such a controversial meal"

"No! You broke the pasta! That's like the biggest sin ya can do! What is wrong with ya?"

"We're already in hell, I don't think sins matter much here," Cece popped in, you jumped slightly forgetting the imp was there.

"They do when it comes to' fuckin' pasta toots!"

Angel dust shouted before promptly turning around and leaving the kitchen, leaving you completely confused and Cece amused, unfortunately her amusement turned into irritation as you asked her to grab the ground beef and roll it into balls so you could cook them because meatballs.

During dinner time your spaghetti was a hit!

Charlie complimented your cooking saying you outdid yourself while Vaggie was grabbing a second serving, Sir Pentious enjoyed slurping up the noodles, Niffty kept stabbing the meatballs foe whatever reason, Husk seemed to enjoy the meal however Angel dust had one pair of arms crossed while he reluctantly ate, it was good he could admit but he knew the sin that you had committed while cooking, he knew that innocent pasta had been broken.

Angel dust almost died a second time when he walked into the kitchen later that night for a midnight snack and witnessed a probably drunk Husk eating leftover spaghetti pasta with ketchup because the sauce you had made was on a higher shelf in the refrigerator and he didn't feel like climbing.

🍕 pineapple pizza time.🍕

You and Alastor had... For lack of better words got into a little fight over the kitchen, tentacles, shadows, mild mind control and other things were used until Vaggie stepped in and separated the two of you,

It was decided that pizza would be ordered for the hotel, much to Alastor's disapproval.

Cheese, pepperoni, pineapple and ham, and supreme were the pizzas ordered unbeknownst to Angel dust since he was coming back to the hotel from a hangout with Cherri.

"Angel! Welcome back we ordered pizza!" Charlie said waving the spider over as Vaggie placed the pizza boxes onto the table.

"Great! I'm starvin'!" Angel walked over just in time to see the box containing pineapple pizza opened up.

"Nevermind I'll starve."

"We have other pizzas Angel."

Vaggie did not get paid enough to deal with this, she didn't even get paid!

Angel dust was extremely disappointed in you, you were the one to suggest getting pineapple pizza because you quote, "Never had it before and wanted to try it",

You were well over a few centuries old, you weren't a child, you had gone to hell and become an overlord that rained terror for a couple of years and therefore you should've been able to tell that pineapple on pizza was a crime against humanity, so what if pizza wasn't a thing during your time, it was a thing that came to be while you were down here!

He had later lectured you about it, it was amusing to you! You were a feared overlord and yet this little Italian guy had the gull to lecture you, this was normal in families right? To not be afraid of each other? How wonderful!

The lecture eventually switched over to Husk who was eating pizzas folded which was just weird because he was just tasting the crust! What about the cheese? The sauce? THE SAUCE HUSK? DO YOU NOT TASTE IT?

Husk was too sober for the lecture, Alastor found it amusing though.

🇮🇹Italian PowerPoint presentation 🇮🇹

"Alright tentacles, we're havin' a intervention!" Angel dust said throwing his hands down on the coffee table as you sipped something from a teacup, probably tea.

"Is what you dragged us here for? This shit?"

Husk was here, how did he always get dragged into these things? Niffty was beside him trying to stab a roach, Charlie and Vaggie were out of the hotel, Alastor was hell knew where, probably doing radio stuff and Angel dust had somehow tracked down your assistant and dragged her there.

"Oh! Whatever for dearie?" You asked head tilted as you placed your cup on the table,

"You've committed so many fuckin' crimes in the past week! Ya' broke the pasta before puttin' it in the pot! Ya' put cream in the carbonara! Ya ate pineapple on pizza, I get we're in hell but are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?-" Angel moved his arms around to empathize his point "Not to mention that little fusion stunt, ya' deranged octopus!"

You hummed thinking about the meals you've made recently before responding, "I don't think I made anything bad?"

"You decided to put tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni on cooked ramen and stuck it in da' oven and ate it."

"It wasn't as good as the little people on the interwebs said."

"OF COURSE IT WASN'T GOOD IT WAS A CRIME! IT CAME OUT OF THE DEEPS OF HELL."

"Eh, it wasn't that bad" Cece popped in to stir the pot, Angel slowly turned around becoming slightly more spidery

"The fuck did ya just say?"

Cece shrugged, "Food's expensive and I need to eat."

Cece was picked up and thrown on the couch with you as Angel dust set up a PowerPoint presentation about the history of Italian food and whatever else, You did not want to be here you'd rather be drinking your drink in peace, Husk didn't want to be here he'd rather be drinking, your hellborn imp assistant didn't want to be here, she's never going to Italy she didn't need to know this and Niffty, well she's still stabbing things on the floor.

By the time Charlie and Vaggie returned you had zoned out completely and your mind was elsewhere, Niffty was napping on your shoulder, Cece had escaped by asking Angel if garlic bread was Italian and while he went on that tangent she ran out abandoning everyone.

Husk was more dead inside then per usual, he wasn't paid enough for this, the first hour was fine but this had been going on for five hours at this point, how did Angel dust manage to drag this PowerPoint presentation out so long?

Vaggie shut it down after it was realized that you weren't responding and they thought you had somehow died,

You did not die and you eventually snapped out of it when a white cloth was put over you in order to hide the body.

Good evening folks! Thank you for turning on in! I hope you enjoyed, my apologies for taking forever to get this out, if your wondering why it feels like there's a missing gap that's because I wrote a whole lil' thing of reader and Alastor combining forces to annoy Angel and I accidentally deleted it.

I'm gonna rewrite it eventually and add it to a different fic with Eldritch horror reader, also If your wondering why I have an imp OC in here there is a reason with Eldritch horror and their family complex you'll see eventually

I'll be getting the readers backstory which will be the 200 follower special out [hopefully] soon so tune on in for that! Thank you again have a wonderful day!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #angel dust & reader #angel dust x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Text

Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

-------

You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone.

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have.

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received.

I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now.

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend.

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident.

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin.

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have.

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency.

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander.

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees.

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain.

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen.

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all.

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares.

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house.

“Baby?”

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise.

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.”

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore.

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again.

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.”

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?”

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge.

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.”

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!”

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know.

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to my wedding ring?”

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him.

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?”

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.”

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head.

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.”

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.”

“I was.”

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.”

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart.

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face.

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.”

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent.

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response.

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice.

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips.

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession.

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband.

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say.

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-”

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.”

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him.

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.”

—------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice.

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?”

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.”

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be.

“When’d you get this one?”

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his.

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side.

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it.

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.”

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it.

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger.

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Nat?”

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.”

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?”

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?”

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones.

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.”

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.”

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you?

“She’s going to be okay.”

“But-”

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.”

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too.

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air.

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.”

“You aren’t going to.”

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it.

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse.

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name.

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly.

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room.

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.”

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side.

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side.

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away.

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives.

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view.

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.”

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.”

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him.

“And you are…?”

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again.

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question.

“Is she okay?” he repeats.

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat.

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold.

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no.

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.”

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more.

“Sit down, honey.”

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his.

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him.

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.”

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.”

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back.

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too.

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him.

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head.

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him.

“I promise,” you finally whisper.

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in.

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask.

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease.

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair.

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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