Tumgik
#i cry so hard i can’t breathe i can’t breathe all day i cry and i wait for the pain to pass
aluciahaz · 3 days
Note
Sub Adam who had been a brat all day and reader punishes him by edging him and making him beg for forgiveness 🙏🏻
he would try so hard to not give in but once he does it's nothing but sobs and whimpers, begging his mommy to let him cum and to call him a good boy<33
LETS GO!! i have to admit this is super long, sorry!! i feel like my fics keep getting longer and longer cause i just start throwing a shit ton of metaphors for no reason 💀💀 im trying to work on shortening them!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
burns good
—adam x gn!reader (reader’s gender not specified but term mommy is used)
—includes: mommy kink, crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
Tumblr media
“come on just—stop, ngh! stop fucking with me-EE!” he jolts as you touch his cock again with your feathery touch before writhing against the ropes that bind him to his chair.
it’s been an hour of this. and although his words may be sharp, you can tell he’s losing his edge.
“maybe if you used your manners, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” you spit out, grabbing his face roughly to force him to look up at you, fire still behind his eyes.
you’ll extinguish it soon enough.
“why would i need to? i’m a legend—AH! ha, fuck!” he shouts as a quick slap from your hand stings his inner thigh, making him shiver in pain, but his flushed face shows his true emotions.
“you’re a slut, that’s what you are,” you say with venom, and the shudder through his body showed that your words ran through his veins like fast poison. he gazes up at you in almost awed disbelief, unable to respond with a witty response.
“you love it when i treat you like this, huh? is that why you act out all the time? acting like an asshole just so i can put you in your place? answer me.” you seethe, your fingers digging into his legs until they bruise.
his bites his lip, not wanting to confess the truth. but he can’t lie. not when you’ve got him cornered like this.
“maybe—NGH! fine! okay—yes—i do it on purpose for you to—fuck—to do this shit to me! happy?” he admits, his back arching as you touch his cock once more, teasing adam with the finish line that’s so far away.
“good boy. see? that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” you see his hips try and buck up from his seat and quickly move your hand away, enjoying the pathetic whine of aggravation from him.
“now all you need to do is say it nicer! come on, you can do it,” you say, smirking at his hesitation. but his uncertainty wasn’t due to your patronizing tone, no. he wasn’t collected enough to catch onto that.
it was the subtle praise. the encouragement. he did something right, he’s getting your attention. good attention.
it makes his head swivel in delight, and even though he’s reluctant to follow through with your request—his pride was on the line!—he opens his trembling lips, his shaky voice conveying a lovely message.
“i act out so you…you can punish me, and—hnn—so you can drive me crazy, i—i…” he takes in a deep breath as you watch him intently, smiling at his confession. it only spurs him on more.
“i need it, please—mommy, please!” he begs weakly, yet his eyes scream for your help. they shine with tears from overstimulation, but what’s more noticeable is the pitiful desperation in his look that overrides his crying.
you can’t help but want more. he was pretty rude this week.
“please what? use your words, baby,” you coo, watching him battle between his ego and desires. his small whimpers as he tried to figure out what to do were adorable, but soon, he looks straight up at you, the victor clear.
“please let me cum!” he begs, his voice crawling into a high-pitched whine. it’s desperate, it’s sweet, and it only makes you want to play with him more.
“oh, but…baby, you don’t deserve it.”
those words were enough to make him wail and shake in his seat, but the feeling of your breath right against his ear and your harsh punishment sent him flying into a true spiral of delirium.
“nononono PLEASE! i’ll be good i’ll—hic—be…” his arms push against the binds frantically, trying to break out of them to just do something. anything.
for a few seconds.
“AH! hm—ngh! fuckfuck—!” adam’s voice is almost non-existent with half of his words filled with the raspiness of pain and the airiness from unrequited yearnings as another lash runs against his leg, red blooming on his skin.
god, he wanted you so bad. he wanted you to touch him, to make him feel special, to just let him cum after what seems like decades. he needed you to help him because even without these ropes, he knew he would never be fully satisfied without your hands on his skin.
but he had to serve penance for his actions. no matter how sweet he wailed, no matter how much he writhed, he had broken a covenant of sorts between him and you. and he had to learn that yes, his unruliness will not be tolerated, even if he begs—
sorry is not enough.
so you keep getting him close to the gates of heaven, only for him to fall back down from seeing stars. each time, he would cry without fail, and each time, his attitude would crumble.
now, there is no hesitation when he pleads for mercy, there is no question as to whether he should follow what you say, and there are no thoughts of defiance corrupting his mind. he was as unchastely pure as one could be, following every sinful demand you say.
you call him all sorts of things. slut, whore, pathetic, giving him whiplash from how kind you were earlier. it makes him cry earnestly, just wanting any semblance of praise to feed off of; to taste the sweetness of love that danced between your words
“i need it—hic—i—please, please be nice to me! m-mommy, mm! i’m so sorry! imsosorryplease, i’ll be a good boy—please, stop being so mean!” he sobs, shaking in his chair as you refrain from giving him what he wants.
adam’s voice quivers, and his breath hastens. his eyes are lidded like he’s inebriated, and he is. he’s drunk off of your words, your demeaning, cruel, vicious words, and they only motivate him more to beg for your forgiveness like a sinner at church.
when you speak again, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, the thorns of your piercing words completely burning away with the warmth of your blessing.
“you’ve been so nice to me for quite some time. perhaps you can be good after all,” you observe with a hum, watching his eyes sparkle with excitement.
“yes—yes i can!” he says frantically, trying to persuade you to do something more. to let his head soar into the clouds and get dizzy from the height.
there was a brief moment of pause as you pondered if you should give in to his pleas, but considering it has been a while, you don’t mind handing him a brief blessing. one that will slowly grow further and further, his brain distorted by the constant pleasure that you put upon him. until he cries and says he can’t cum anymore, and the overstimulation was making everything feel too much.
too good. too perfect. perhaps heaven was overrated when things like this existed. when you existed with your perfect hands running over his body, kissing his neck with delicacy and following it up with bites filled with carnal pleasure.
it was a thought that’s crossed his mind plenty of times. well, when he’s able to think. as you let him cum, your fingers now around his cock as he thrashes in his ropes, screaming and wailing as you keep moving your hand, his legs trembling as you ruin him so well.
“w-wait! wait too much—ngh—fuck! mommy, please!” he squeaks, his whole body shuddering with his sobs as he tries to collect himself somehow, but he can’t fight this sensory overload. not even with the experience of being the first man.
there’s a certain feeling burning inside of him. like a flame that was comfortably warm, yet was flickering too high out of the fireplace, signaling danger. but he can’t stop getting closer, even if it melts his ability to think in the process. the burn of lust was just too good.
he didn’t even try to fight the fire, not even caring about his appearance as he begs for you to both stop and keep going, unsure of which poison to drink from.
yet, as he was engulfed in the divine flames of your sinful blessing, he couldn’t help but feel a bit happy as he sniveled, his tears glistening against his skin. you were giving him so much attention. it didn’t matter that the pleasure was intertwined with pain, it was just a more direct sign that you had all your focus on him, and that’s all he ever wanted.
“ngh..i can’t—i c..can’t…” he says weakly, his voice practically fading into nothingness. at some point, his position changed to him lying down on the bed, still completely tied from limb to limb. but you thought that after cumming for the third time, he deserved a more comfortable environment for the rest of the night in order to soften the cruelty of your hands.
and although his voice is cracking at the seams, and his body is at your complete mercy, the mere action of you having him moved to the bed made his heart swell. it was that slight affection that made the sting on his thighs feel so nice, the almost overbearing heat of your body over his feel so loving.
“you’re doing so well. come on, just one more for me, baby,” those words were the sweetest things in the world. it made every red mark and each brutal remark worth it.
“mmn…okay—AH! mommy!” he keened, weeping as his legs jolted up just barely, too weak to even react properly as your fingers delved inside of him, quickly finding the spot that made him shiver all over.
“so—so much! i feel—i can’t—!” his eyes shut tightly as he cries, unable to put his thoughts into words. but you’ve been here time and time before, his words aren’t necessary to understand what he’s thinking.
he begs with his tears, says ‘i love you’ with the arch in his back, and screams that he wants to cum against all odds with the dazed look on his face, his eyes slowly opening to show a man who’s lost the inability to speak with words, but fluent in the language of bliss.
as he cums with a silent scream, barely anything coming out of his used cock, you watch as his eyes run to the back of his head. you watch how his whole body stiffens in a single moment before becoming limp, pleading for you to take care of it.
you can’t help but oblige, gently removing the ropes that bind him, kissing each angry imprint of love on his body, and whispering words of well-earned praise to your angel.
adam can’t cry anymore, yet if he could, he would, as being overwhelmed with love and care was just as intense as drowning in lust and desire.
he feels so vulnerable, yet he enjoys it wholeheartedly. it allowed him to get pampered like some sort of royalty. perhaps he should start doing this more just to get treated like this.
but when he suggests for you to call him ‘king’ the next day you put him back in his place, rolling your eyes in annoyance. he never learns, but he doesn’t want to. your lessons felt so good after all. why would he want them to stop?
Tumblr media
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
286 notes · View notes
leilani-lily · 2 days
Text
~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 7)
Apologies for the delay, life has been a lil busy for me lately. Lots going on, and only more to happen. My introverted battery is crying ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧
This chapter's a lil shorter than some of the others, but it's for the best. The next one I have planned is gonna be a 2 parter. And it'll be a whopper. Wish me luck hehe! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Synopsis: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. It's time for the daily meeting amongst the hotel staff and guests. You're feeling particularly exhausted, and before you know it, you fall asleep. What you don't realize is what kind of chaos it causes afterwards… Word count: 3.7 k
Chapter under the cut!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“What if we offad a free bag o ‘Hero-In’ tada first 50 custamers?”
Charlie blinked in bewilderment down at the Spider Demon, not sure if he was actually being serious. The other resident demons either nodded in agreement or weren’t even paying attention to the conversation, blinking tiredly and eyes glazed over. Vaggie groaned in frustration at the apparent lack of brains in this hotel.
“Por el amor de Dios.” she muttered under her breath, dragging her face down with her hand. “Angel. We can’t offer drugs to encourage more guests to the hotel. That goes against, like, everything we’re even doing here.” She gestures to the hotel lobby, where you were all sitting on various armchairs and couches. It was one of your daily meetings where Charlie rounded up all the demons and tried to come up with strategies on how to recruit more sinners. Her and Vaggie were standing before you all, a chalkboard behind them with… some pretty terrible suggestions scribbled on it (and a faded dick drawing done by a certain 8 limbed demon). Said sinner looked around his settings before turning back to the silver haired woman, looking at her in confusion.
“Booze?”
“No.”
“Dildos?”
“Jesus. NO.”
“Blowjobs??”
“FOR FUCK SAKES ANGEL!”
“Whaaaat? Sounds like a good deal ta me! Especially if da blowin’s done by a prafessional like yours truly~!” Angel wiggled his chest fur rather sensually towards Vaggie and threw her a wink. The fallen angel slapped her hand against her face in exasperation. 
Now usually this type of banter would have you practically shaking in your seat trying to hold in your laughter. But this time around, all you could muster was a tired chuckle as your eyes ping-ponged between the two. Your early mornings and long days at the hotel were starting to catch up with you, and today in particular was extra exhausting for you. You had spent most of the night reading, too absorbed in the novel to put it down even though you knew how late it was. And now you were paying the price; all you wanted to do was sleep. But then Charlie called this meeting and now you were stuck here, daydreaming of your bed. 
“W-well Angel, I’m afraid I have to agree with Vaggie on this,” Charlie piped up, awkwardly looking between her partner and friend, “But I am LOVING the participation and enthusiasm! Good job!” She clapped cheerfully to Angel, trying so hard to encourage his good habits, even if his suggestions were questionable. Angel clicked his teeth at Charlie while shooting a finger gun, slouching back into his armchair. The Princess of Hell turned back to the group, her expression a mix of determination and desperation. 
“Alright everyone, what else do we got? Come on, let’s keep the creative juices flowing!”
Other demons' voices droned on in response, but you could feel your brain shutting down as they faded to muffled noise. You were seated comfortably on one of the couches, feeling yourself being swallowed into the cushy pillows. It was honestly really nice being able to sit on this couch in particular, it was the comfiest of all the furnishing here. 
When you had first arrived at the hotel and attended these meetings, you were sitting in one of the armchairs beside Angel. And you had to admit, they were pretty stiff. But at some point, as you and Alastor’s friendship began to grow, the deer demon began inviting you to sit on the couch beside him, and even began saving you the seat before anyone else could take it. What more, would even begin to shoot glares at demons if they attempted to take it before you had arrived.
You had caught wind and scolded your friend for a moment, but he insisted with how much work you were doing, you deserved the cushy spot more than anyone else. And that just so happened to be beside him. You had eyed him suspiciously but didn’t argue further; it really was a nice couch. Now it was just known fact that you and the Radio Demon always sat together, and others didn’t even attempt to sit there anymore. 
Beside you, Alastor watched as your body sank into the couch and brought a hand up to stifle a yawn. His eyebrow quirked up in amusement, but he didn’t attempt to try and keep you awake.  He could tell this meeting wasn’t going anywhere; there was no point in forcing you to participate. Instead, his pupils slid back to the group of demons in front of him. Somehow Nifty and Sir Pentious had gotten into an argument, and Vaggie was yelling over them to shut up and stay focused. Alastor’s smile creaked up eerily, reveling in the chaos unfolding before him. Charlie looked at her business partner, a semblance of despair in her eyes.
“Alastor,” she practically begged, “Please tell me you have some suggestions that we could actually use?” 
Alastor gave a hearty laugh as he waved a hand at her.
“Oh please my dear,” he dismissed, shaking his head and giving her a smug look, “You know very well that I do not participate in such matters. I’m simply here for the entertainment that comes with it~!” He gestures to the three demons arguing in question, as Angel and Husk seemed to be sharing a bowl of popcorn and watched the mayhem. Charlie looked at the group tiredly.
“Besides,” Alastor drawled on, his eyes practically dancing at the chaos before him, “I honestly think-!”
His voice was cut off by the sound of a record player scratching to a halt.
The group of demons that were bickering immediately stopped dead in their tracks at the sudden abnormal sound, their gazes zipping to the Radio Demon. Angel and Husk’s eyes also locked in on the deer demon, a piece of popcorn falling out of Angel’s open mouth.
Alastors was frozen in place as your sleeping form had slumped up against his side. 
The deer demon looked like he was caught in the headlights; His entire face was frozen and eyes wide as dinner plates, smiling mouth still half open in mid speech. His whole body was stiff as a board as his shrunken pupils stared off ahead in shock. 
The room fell quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Every one of the hotel residents were ready to shit themselves, eyes darting between you and Alastor. Anyone that knew the Radio Demon knew how much he despised physical contact not initiated by him. Husk especially was terrified for your sake, fully remembering Alastor practically ripping demons apart limb by limb simply because they looked at him the wrong way. The gambling demon’s fur began to stand up on his neck. This couldn’t be good.
You sighed in your sleep and nuzzled closer into Alastor’s arm, subconsciously seeking out his warmth. All of the onlookers breathed in sharply, Charlie even covering her mouth with her hands to keep herself quiet. The Radio Demon’s eyes slowly slid down to you, carefully tilting his head to get a better look. His eyes looked over you, pupils sharp and calculating as his open mouth creaked shut and grin tight. Everyone watched in horror, unsure what the Overlord was thinking or what he was going to do.
Alastor’s first instinct was to immediately shove you away. But he quickly pushed that thought aside once coming to terms that this was you. As much as he wanted to peel your body off of his, another part was… intrigued. He had never been in this type of situation before, and moreso, with someone he actually found tolerable. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes and mentally tutted you. It was clear you were more exhausted than he had realized, especially given you had fallen asleep amongst all the commotion. And he knew first hand how early you were up everyday; how hard you worked for this hotel. Hell, you were one of the hardest working ones here, besides Charlie and Vaggie. 
Mentally coming to a decision, Alastor’s shoulders began to soften, his body finally beginning to relax under the newfound weight. Your rest was far more important than this silly meeting that wasn’t going anywhere anyways. His chivalrous nature had ultimately won out.
“Hey uh… Smiles…” Angel stuttered, his voice low and cautious as to not wake you, “Ya… Ya got a lil Puddin’ on ya sholda” He pointed to your sleeping form, his eyes darting nervously between you both. Vaggie immediately zipped to the Spider demon and slapped her hand over his mouth, shooting daggers at him before looking nervously at Alastor. Eventually, the Radio Demon’s eyes slid lazily to the group of anxious sinners, his lips curling up in amusement as he observed everyone’s expressions. If you weren’t sleeping on his shoulder he would’ve relished in their horror. Careful not to move too much, he turned his head back to the group.
“Now then,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly low, “If the three of you finished with your ridiculous squabbling… ” He shot Nifty, Sir Pentious, and Vaggie a dirty look, making the three  cower under his judgemental gaze. His eyes narrowed a moment before turning to Charlie.
“Then I believe we should really get back to our brainstorming. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie dearest~?”
The goat demon stared at Alastor in surprise, eyes flicking to you before back to him. Her eyes squinted in confusion at the scene in front of her; Alastor… was allowing this? But she quickly shook it off, realizing he was still waiting for her reply. After blinking a couple times, her eyes lit up with joy as her smile overtook her face.
“YES! Yes of course we-!” 
Alastor’s static crackled dangerously as radio channels shuffled in the background. His scarlet eyes flashed red, shooting Charlie a look of warning. The princess immediately covered her mouth, silencing her thunderous excitement. With a quick clearing of her throat, she continued, her voice softer this time.
“Yes. Right. Everyone, let’s continue from where we left off.”
For the next twenty minutes, the group of demons quietly continued their discussion and strategies. Alastor sat in complete silence, his grin casual and hands in his lap as he sat still. Only his pupils moved as his gaze darted between the sinners. You continued to sleep soundly against the Radio Demon’s shoulder, nuzzling even closer to his warmth and even wrapping your arms around his at one point. He only flinched a moment when he felt your arms trapping his, but he made no other movement; no change in expression. 
As the discussion continued amongst the others, the group couldn’t help but glance at you and Alastor on occasion, still in utter bewilderment at the entire situation. He must have been sick… or an ulterior motive maybe? They all secretly had many inquiries, but none of them dared to question the Overlord. Especially with the way he acted if one of them spoke too loudly. The dangerous hum of static would remind them of their place, and the power he held in this establishment.
Finally, the meeting was adjourned by the Princess of Hell, and everyone began to trickle out of the lobby. Alastor could hear the various murmurs of confusion between the demons as they left to go back to their room, but he ignored them. Little whispers between rats were of no concern to him. Charlie slowly approached the couch, eyes darting between the two figures and smiling sheepishly.
“Do you want me to take her?” she whispered, arms outstretched as if ready to take your sleeping form. But the Radio Demon raised his unshackled hand as if to halt her, shaking his head softly with eyes closed. 
“No need to fret my dear,” he reassured, opening his eyes and giving a gentlemanly smile, “I will see to it that our little chef is taken care of.” 
Charlie hesitated a moment, unsure of what exactly was going through her business partner’s mind. But finally, she nodded her head and tip-toed away, meeting her angelic partner at the elevators. Hand in hand, Charlie and Vaggie left the vicinity, leaving you and Alastor alone in the lobby. 
As silent seconds passed, the Radio Demon’s eyes eventually slid down to your sleeping profile, a mix of amusement and slight curiosity crossing his features. You looked so small, so vulnerable and helpless compared to his tall, powerful form. He watched as your shoulders slowly rose and fell with every breath. Your body was warm against his arm, your head heavy on his shoulder as your entire weight pressed on him. It was a feeling foreign to him; he had never had anyone rest on him in an unconscious state. In all honesty, if baffled him. 
No one had ever seemed so… comfortable around him. The group of demons were scared out of their wits for your safety because of the stories they’d heard. And they had a right to be scared. He was the Radio Demon after all. An all powerful Overlord and a force to be reckoned with. He could strike fear into the heart of any creature, make them fall to their knees and beg for their lives and for his forgiveness. There were only a certain handful that could match his power, and even then that number was dwindling (he would make sure of it). He was a terror. A killer. A living nightmare. And yet…
Here you were, sound asleep on his arm, peaceful and unaware of the position you were in.
Your fingers twitched under his bicep, eyelids fluttering a moment before you stilled again. Clearly you were dreaming about something, and it made Alastor wonder what was going on in that little mind of yours. What was it you dreamed about? Perhaps reliving your life before you descended to Hell? Or maybe… Reliving a memory of when you had spent time with him? Alastor rolled his own eyes at that last question, yet his pride couldn’t help but wonder. Would it be obscured of him to think he could occupy a spot in your mind? 
You stirred a moment against his arm, and Alastor was immediately taken out of his trance. Your face twitched a moment, before scrunching up as if in disgust. Alastor had to catch himself at your expression. Your face eventually settled back into a relaxed state, but a soft, low chuckle still managed to escape the demon’s lips.
Yep. Definitely a dream about him.
Shaking his head mirthfully, 2 long tentacles of shadow began to rise up from the floor. Ever so gently, the shadows lifted your head and body off of Alastor, allowing the deer demon to carefully remove his imprisoned arm from your grasp and stand up. He took a moment to stretch his neck and roll his shoulder around, the stiffness of not moving for nearly half an hour catching up to him. Finally, he turned back to you, still sleeping soundly and being cradled by his shaded tendrils in bridal style. A thought crossed his mind as he looked over at you, taking a moment to evaluate his next move. 
He could very easily snap his fingers and have you transported to your bed. Or have his shadows carefully carry you to your room while he trailed behind. But somehow, despite all of the options he had debated on, he found his arms slowly reaching out underneath you and pulling your body close to his. You immediately curled up closer to him and his warmth, making the Overlord stiffen a moment. But finally, he began to saunter towards the elevators, his shaded tentacles slipping back into the floor.
Of course, being the Hotel’s Facility Manager, he knew exactly where your room was. And obviously, he had a spare key. Using his shadows to unlock the door, he carefully opened the door and stepped inside, stopping a moment to take in his surroundings. He had never actually been in your room before, and he was surprised to discover how fascinated he was about it.
Naturally, it was washed in a deep maroon colour like every other room in this building. It was mostly clean, save for a few articles of clothing scattered around the floor. He simply chuckled softly to himself.  Honestly, what was he going to do with you… 
Your odor was faint in the room, but was still picked up by the demon thanks to his heightened animalistic senses. He took a moment to breathe it in, shocking even himself at how he enjoyed the smell. Like the scent of spring after a chilling, heartless winter, mixed with your own natural musk. He quickly shook his head from his thoughts, suddenly feeling disgusted in himself and his barbaric impulse. 
He noticed an old record player in the corner with various records tucked away. He sauntered over and peeked at the various discs, using his magic to lift them to his face and inspect them. He was impressed with your mix of genres, not at all surprised by the jazz music, but also intrigued by your interest in classical, old fashioned rock and roll, and showtunes. He hummed contently to himself, realizing he could learn a thing or two about you by the contents in your room. And oddly enough, he wanted to learn more. 
Call it the hunter in him. 
You had a large bookshelf similar to his, and he took a moment to browse the titles you had. Mainly cookbooks, which were of no surprise to him, but there were mixes of fantasy and romance as well. 
Romance. Ugh. 
Alastor practically rolled his eyes at some of the disgustingly cheesy titles. How people, women in particular, found this entertaining was beyond him. Especially those who would write about it. 
Pathetic.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made them so popular to begin with. And if they seemed to be something that you in particular enjoyed, then perhaps… he would be willing to give it a second chance. 
One book in particular caught his eye, sticking halfway out from the shelf. Most likely the one you had finished most recently. A green hue pulled it off the shelf as he flipped it open and pursued the contents. After reading a couple sentences, he felt himself stiffen; his eyes widening and smile growing uncomfortable. 
Were all romance novels nowadays so… sultry? He knew sexual activities were popular for most beings. But for Hell’s sake, the novel was practically filth. Instinctively, the book became engulfed in a green flame, burning in seconds. Alastor watched the fires fizz out, ashes of what once was your novel now fluttering and disappearing into thin air.
Hm… hopefully you wouldn’t notice it missing. 
He was learning many things about you with his little scavenge through your room. Things that he found oddly charming. Others he found… debateable. Nevertheless, one good thing could be said about the secrets he had discovered. The Radio Demon’s grin began to widen deliciously at the thought.
He could so use this information against you in the near future. 
You murmured softly against his chest, causing the demon to focus back on you and away from his scheming thoughts. As much as he would’ve loved to continue to snoop around, he knew he had to finish what he had originally come to do. 
With a sigh of contentment, he proceeded to walk to the edge of your bed, once again using his emerald magic to pull the covers back. As gingerly as he could, Alastor lowered you to the bed and carefully removed his arms out from under you. Your one hand had somehow clutched onto the lapel of his jacket, causing him to chuckle before gently unfurling your fingers from his suit. Finally, you had settled in the bed and curled up on yourself, already missing the heat from Alastor’s body. Long, clawed fingers grabbed at the blankets by your feet and pulled them up to your chin, making sure every inch of you was covered and enveloped in the sheets. 
You sighed in your sleep as he pulled his hands away, and Alastor took a moment to take in the sight. Even throughout the meeting, and with all the movement of him picking you up and walking around, you had remained fast asleep. It had simply proven how fatigued you were. His mind flashed back to his mother, remembering how tirelessly she would work to provide for the family, and the many nights when he would catch her sleeping at the kitchen table, bills and notices scattered around her. How helpless he felt as a child, not able to do anything to ease her workload or stress.
He looked down at you, eyes flickering over your sleeping form and feeling something stir inside of him. He couldn’t be there for his mother, not as a weak, impotent child. But he was grown now. And he was strong; practically a God with the power he held over Hell. And he would make sure to repay the debt he owed, one way or another. 
His hand reached out and paused for a second, as if debating. But something urged him on, and his hand found its way to the top of your head. He began to gently pet your hair, feeling the tendrils slide between his fingertips. You hummed in your sleep, causing the deer demon to flinch and ready to sink into the shadows. But then you sighed contently and subconsciously nuzzled your head into his hand, a soft smile curling up before relaxing again.
Unbeknownst to Alastor, his ear twitched. 
He had to stop his own grin from creeping up higher on his face as he continued his previous motions, feeling his body relax and eyes soften. He continued the gentle caresses, embracing the peaceful silence and watching your chest rise and fall with each delicate breath. Eventually, Alastor had felt like he had overstayed his welcome, and slowly removed his hand from your head. As your hair tumbled through his fingers and fell to the pillow, he couldn’t help to lean over and whisper in your ear.
“Sweet dreams, my little songbird~”
He quietly stepped away from your bed, taking a moment to pick up your scattered clothing around the room before placing them in the laundry hamper nearby. And with a final peek to your sleeping form, the Radio Demon’s smile curled up ever so slightly before carefully shutting the door behind him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Y-yeah Alastor... Those romance writers sure are pathetic... pff... pffffft (; ̫ಠ ̫U ̫ಠ ̫ ̫; ̫) We do love a self deprecating joke around here k'know
FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT (Coming soon)
38 notes · View notes
scoupsahoy · 2 days
Text
starting from zero
for @strangerthingsreversebigbang with art from @anaccidentwaitingtohappen
When Robin suggests that she and Steve skip town, he assumes she’s joking. She’ll say stuff like that all the time, because Hawkins has bumpy roads that exacerbate Steve’s migraines, and because the kids and be annoying and cliquey and exclusive, and because she’s heard from her aunt in Chicago that some women over there dare to have queer little haircuts and girlfriends whose hands they hold in public.
So when they’re watching Dirty Harry in the middle of the night and Robin says “we should move there,” Steve laughs and takes a sip of his beer.
Harry says the line about feeling lucky, and then Robin says “did you know that punk used to be slang for, like, a gay guy, or something?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Lots of gay people in San Francisco, by the way.”
Harry finally kills the Scorpio guy. “Yeah, it seems real safe there,” Steve says.
He’s not looking but he can feel Robin shrug next to him. “Can’t be worse than Hawkins.”
The camera does a really gross zoom in on Scorpio’s stupid bloody face, so he looks right at Robin, who looks deadly serious. Her mouth is small, the way it gets when she’s trying to shut herself up. The way she looks when the gears in her brain have been spinning for too long without letting anything out.
That’s when Robin gets dangerous. She’s a planner. Steve can usually see right through her, but there’s always been enough for the both of them in this town – or, well. He always thought there was.
“Are you– what’s going on?” She looks a bit like she’s going to cry, which is so unlike her that it makes Steve’s heart shake.
She takes a deep breath. “What if we just left?”
“Hawkins?”
“Indiana,” Robin says, shrugs again, gets a wild look in her eye. “The country.”
Steve cracks a smile. “The world, even.”
Robin laughs, this great big beautiful sound that fills the room and travels down the hallways. The house doesn’t ever feel dark or empty with her inside, with her pantomiming a rocket launch to outer space, like she can imagine living on Mars with him like he can with her.
“What’s even keeping you here?”
It’s a loaded question. In theory, this is his home. In it, everyone he’s ever known, ever loved, ever heard of. Except for his parents, who might be in the Hamptons and might be in Vegas. Except for Nancy, in Boston. Except for half the town, lost in the rubble of an earthquake they all pretend happened.
He stays, really, because Robin is here.
And Steve, for a long time, hasn’t been able to shake the nagging feeling that she could have had more if it wasn’t for him, that she might go anywhere for him, and he’s the one who’s too cowardly to think of leaving. Robin’s chosen to stay, despite her little jokes about leaving. Despite a girl she fell in love with over a whirlwind summer leaving for college in Texas. Despite the little horrors of this town and the passions she could have easily followed. She has ambition and talent and drive. She has family and she knows what she wants and she knows who she wants it with.
And the worst part is that Steve is the one she wants it with.
There are days where he locks himself in his house, sulking and exhausted and alone, and she climbs in through his bedroom window, just as determined as he used to be before all of this. She plays with his hair and draws on his shoes and brings over movies he’s never seen and he would stop the spinning of the world for her.
He knows anyone would, if they had her like he does.
It’s been eating him alive, a little bit. He’s been frozen in time and space since a chasm opened up in the town and left him completely unable to move.
Steve takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. What’s keeping you here?”
“You,” Robin says, looking at him hard past her eyelashes. “Dingus.”
“You want to go to San Francisco? To live?”
“Yeah, I think we could do it.”
There are some things you can’t really say out loud without ruining the magic of them.
Steve and Robin go to work the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Robin had found them another job at a restaurant on basically the other end of Roane County where they get paid like shit but can work for tips. They’ve both been working full-time since Robin graduated high school, saving up for nothing in particular, skirting past a new shitty manager and getting free meals for the kids when they come in.
Steve supposes, once the idea is up in the air, that another reason he’s held back for so long was because of the kids, with all the things they’ve gone through, and all the people that have left them. He doesn’t want to be another person that leaves for better things. Steve’s a person who’s been left, in so many ways. It always feels like a betrayal on the other end of it.
So they don’t say anything about it to anyone, not even really out loud to each other, until one shift after weeks and weeks of saving and shuffling and looking at listings from newspaper clippings they get sent from Jonathan in California and Nancy in Boston and Robin’s aunt in Chicago. Jonathan and Nancy and even Robin’s relatives don’t bother asking questions, are secretive enough on their own, so there’s no pressure on that front.
Erica sits at a booth on a Sunday afternoon teaching Robin how to make friendship bracelets on her lunch break while the restaurant is dead.
“Why aren’t you with your friends?” Steve asks, stealing a french fry off Robin’s plate and eyeing their work.
Erica rolls her eyes, ever expressive. “I hate the birthday boy so much that it wouldn’t even be worth it to go and make fun of him. Plus, I’m getting too old for birthday parties.”
“Yeah Steve,” Robin says, holding up her bracelet. “She’s too mature for that.”
“Don’t condescend to me,” Erica fires back. She pulls at Robin’s sleeve to gather a bit of the string and tighten it before it falls apart on her. All things considered, Erica’s always been one of their favorite of the kids, if only because if she didn’t want to stick around, she wouldn’t. And yet she’s always there.
Robin and Erica talk lowly while they graze and gossip, right up until Erica turns around in the booth to level Steve with a look while he busses the next table over. “So when are you guys leaving?”
“Uh,” Steve checks his watch. “We have like three and a half more hours.”
“That’s obviously not what I meant and you know it. When are you leaving? Like, moving away, skipping town, getting out of here?”
Robin turns around too, now, giving Steve a look that says she hasn’t even alluded to that. Erica is startlingly perceptive, though, and cares way more about the people in this town than she’d care to admit. With all the people who have moved away in the past few years, all of the kids who she went to school with who left because of the earthquake, it’s not exactly all that surprising.
“When we can afford it, basically,” Robin says finally. Steve has a weird lump in his throat that keeps him from saying anything before that. Something about having to look Erica in the eyes makes it seem all the more real.
She still raises an eyebrow at him. He shrugs.
“Where are you going to go?”
“Not too far that we won’t visit,” Robin says, reaching up like she’d dare try to pinch Erica’s cheek. “Don’t worry.”
Erica purses her lips and glares harder, and if Steve knows her like he thinks he does, he’d guess her face was hot and embarrassed under all of that sarcasm. “Like I care. I just figured you’d start telling people at some point if it’s so obvious that I’ve figured something’s up.”
“What do you mean we’re being obvious?” Steve asks.
“You know,” Erica gestures a little wildly. “You guys have been acting weird. All quiet and secretive with your little conspiratorial looks. And you offered to help me make friendship bracelets. You’re getting in your weird older sibling fantasies and that either means you’re dying or you’re moving away. You’re not dying, are you?”
Steve smiles. “Nah, we’re fine. And we’ll let you know when we’re actually making real plans.”
“Well. Good.”
There’s a bit of earnestness that peeks through, a little bit of personality that’s only for people she really likes. She helps them make beaded friendship bracelets for each other, pastel pinks and blues, and she keeps the secret just as good as either of them.
People who know Robin the way that Steve does know that she has an overcompensation streak that could rival anyone. She’s stubborn and superstitious and anxious and combats all of her fears by learning everything she could possibly need to know about them. By the time Erica figures out that they’re leaving Hawkins, Robin decides she’s going to learn everything there is to know about every major city in the United States. By the time she tells her parents that she’s going to save up and move out, she’s got an entire notebook full of notes and plans and phone numbers and addresses. She is positive that she can do it on her own. She doesn’t need help.
There are no cracks in her plan, in her demeanor, in her routine. Especially facing Steve. She tells him he worries too much for his own good anyway.
There’s one moment, though, before they get too far into their search, before things are finalized, right after they decide on San Francisco after all:
Robin has her nose in three different books from the library in the next town over. She’s got her pen in her hand and she’s taking her notes. She’s got a crease in between her eyebrows and takes a shaky breath that sounds a little too familiar.
Steve, at the other end of the couch, two books of his own that he’s trying way too hard to understand, about the logistics of moving across the country, pokes at Robin with his toe. She looks up at him like she might collapse.
“What if this is a horrible idea? Like, a catastrophic idea. Like we’re going to die before we leave, kind of idea. I know you didn’t read that Stephen King book that just came out, but what if it’s like that? Those kids are haunted and what if we’re haunted?”
“Robin,” Steve starts.
She pushes a book about taxes off of her lap and onto the floor, folding some of the pages in a way that’s going to make her feel bad later. “What if I don’t find any jobs out there? And then I have to do street art for tourists who think I’m an idiot for not going to college?”
Steve reaches over and touches her on the shoulder, rubbing gently. “Robin.”
“What if girls don’t like me?” She really looks like she might cry, now. It’s rare enough that Steve’s heart lurches violently in his chest.
“They will.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Well you’ve got me,” he says. “And we can get married for tax benefits, and girls will see you with a wedding ring and probably flock to you even harder.”
And like a shot, Robin snaps out of it enough to roll her eyes. They put the books down for the night.
There’s a long day where Steve’s mother calls their landline just to check on him. She’ll do this sometimes, ask how he’s doing, what he’s eating, make comments on if it’s enough or if it’s too much. She makes comments about Robin, whose name she only barely remembers from the times Steve has shouted it from across the room while on the phone. She tells the same stories about how her and his father will be coming to visit soon, and he laughs and almost believes her when she tries her hardest to seem earnest.
But it’s been a long day, and Steve works for tips and makes shit money, and he and Robin don’t know what they’re doing because they don’t know anyone who’s doing it alone like they are. They’re so close to leaving that every day left feels a little like torture. And he’s alone in his house, empty while Robin’s with some band kids on break from school. And his mother says “we’re thinking of coming to visit soon, your father and I,” and Steve actually laughs. She ignores it. “He misses you, you know. You can call the car phone whenever you’d like, I’m sure he’d pick up.”
And they both know it’s a sick lie, because his father gave up on him years ago, never even bothers to come on the line when his mother makes her pity calls. The line goes silent while they both sit there and wait for some truth to come out of it, and Steve almost feels bad for this woman who clearly forgot how to be a mother back when she prioritized being a wife.
“Well,” she says, eventually. “We’ve actually got to get going, sweetheart. Your father has one of those boring old work events tonight in Santa Fe.”
“Alright,” he manages to say.
She takes a deep breath, like she’s gearing herself up for another lie. “We love you. We’ll visit soon.”
Steve hangs up.
Robin will be dropped off at his front door by morning, he knows, and he also knows that she doesn’t need to be let into the house in any kind of formal way. It’s just as much hers as it is his. And it’s more of their house than it ever was his parents’. And Steve imagines, just for a second, what would happen if he locked all of the doors and windows. If he changed the locks and ate the keys. If he filled the entire house with concrete and smoke before he left the place to die.
He wonders if his parents would ever find out. If they would bust the door down looking for him, the way Robin would. She would climb down his chimney if she was that desperate to get inside. Steve locks the front door for the first time in what feels like years and falls asleep in his parent’s bed, untouched for a year at this point, staring at the popcorn ceiling.
Most of the rest of the house, everything worth saving, is packed into boxes. His entire life. And this whole room was left untouched for his parents to return to.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to Robin plopping cross-legged at the foot of the bed with her hands clasped together. Her hair is messy and she had a bit of eye-makeup on that’s smudged, and she looks entirely awake.
Once Steve’s awake enough, Robin starts talking. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this room.”
“You like it?”
“It’s extremely ugly in here,” she says, turning her nose up at the tacky hotel room art on the wall, the exact thing that Robin would hate. “But we could probably rent it out in the paper. Pretend to run a bed and breakfast or something.”
“My parents would freak if they saw that.”
Robin, gracefully, doesn’t point out the obvious, which is that his parents would never notice or care. She doesn’t have to. Their wedding photo with the cracked frame says it loud enough. And there’s a ringing in Steve’s ear that hasn’t gone away for hours, taunting him.
When he was younger, he would run to his parents room and his mom would rub his temples with her fingertips, gaudy manicure scratching his hairline.
“Do you think we can sell this place before we leave for extra cash?”
Steve smiles. “I don’t think Hawkins is exactly prime real estate right now.”
“Not to mention this place is, like, really ugly.”
“Well there’s a reason I never come into this room–”
“No, I mean,” Robin squints. “The entire place. Every room, not just this one. When we get a house it’s gonna be way cooler than this one.”
“For sure.”
“With short ceilings. I hate the echo.”
“And these awful, gaudy chandeliers,” Steve says, glaring at the ugly crystal light fixture above the bed. When he was younger, he used to have nightmares about it falling and crushing his parents. He doesn’t dream much anymore, but it’s one of those dreams that stuck with him.
“I kind of want to hit it with a baseball bat.”
That shocks a laugh out of him. “Like a piñata?”
“Yeah,” Robin says, eyes glowing. “Don’t you?”
Steve stares at it for a second. “I used to play baseball.”
And then they’re standing in the center of the room with a full children’s baseball bag. “This is stupid.”
Robin’s eyes are wide and wild. “Maybe,” she says.
“They’re not even going to notice, you realize that, right? They’re in Santa Fe, probably cheating on each other and mingling with other shitty parents who don’t care about their children. They’re probably never going to even bother coming back.”
“Doesn’t that piss you off?” Robin takes Steve by the shoulders, shakes him. “They should care about you, Steve! They’re your parents! They’re supposed to care about you, it’s their job! And they’re bad at it! Doesn’t that make you mad?”
Steve flexes his jaw. “Yeah.”
“Good! Because it makes me livid!” She throws the baseball in her hand at the horrible light fixture, aimed so that it bounces off in a different direction, and an ugly hunk of glass falls and shatters on the ground. The sound reverberates around the entire house, the way Robin’s laugh does. This person that cares about him more than his parents or the town or the people that left without considering what that would do to him. The people who left without asking first. The glass shatters into thick, ugly carpet that crunches under their sneakers, and so he throws the baseball in his hand, too. It leaves a dent in the drywall above the headboard, and it feels like his heart gets cracked wide open, and he bleeds cold throughout his body, and it’s the best he’s felt in months or maybe even years.
Robin yells loud enough to rumble the house and stir the neighbors if they ever cared, and she rips clothes off their hangers while Steve hits the vanity mirror with the baseball bat. They rip the nice, expensive, hardly-used sheets and joke about burning it up. They joke about burning the entire house down and leaving tonight. They shut the door and lock it behind them, and they don’t open it ever again.
The town wishes them goodbye. Or, at least, the people left who care about them wish them goodbye. The Byers-Hoppers throw a little party, and Dustin has a shitty little speech, and Max pretends to cry early on, and then actually cries a little bit when they get to their cars to leave. Erica holds it over everyone’s heads that she knew first, and they leave for San Francisco the first thing the very next morning, just the two of them, holding hands, a scorched sign that says “come back soon” in front of a rising sun.
Tumblr media
42 notes · View notes
charmsandtealeaves · 3 days
Text
@mppmaraudergirl’s Alight With Happiness Fest
Day 3: Thrice Defied (overcoming obstacles ~ probably not quite what was in mind but this is what you get TW: pregnancy and labour) @jilymicrofics
Pain. All Lily could feel was pain. She had anticipated a sense of relief between waves, but it never came. It was more like she was given a reprieve enough to suck in a couple deep breaths before being subjected the worst pain she’d ever experienced (including the time she’d found herself on the wrong end of Bellatrix’s wand).
She’d tried bouncing and rocking and even a warm bath. It felt like nothing was taking the edge off anymore. She barely even registered the way James was stood behind her, squeezing her hips the way the healer had shown him during their antenatal classes, as she leaned against the kitchen table.
“You’ve got this Lily,” he soothed.
“I feel like I’m being set alight from the inside out!” she cried through gritted teeth.
Merlin she couldn’t do this.
“This is the worst of it love. You’re so close. Just a little longer.”
Another wave crashed over her and she let out a guttural animalistic sound. Easy for him to say when he wasn’t the one who’d been contracting for over twenty four hours.
“I can’t. I can’t,” she chanted breathlessly.
“You can. You already are love. I know you’re tired, love.”
Tired was an understatement. Everything in her body was screaming at her to lie down and curl up in a ball. But she couldn’t relent to fatigue.
James slid to his knees, cradling a towel. “Their head is right here, love. You’re so close. One more push!”
Lily tucked chin hard into her chest and pushed with all her might as the next wave came. The heavy feeling leaving her. Replaced by panic as she felt their baby tumble into James waiting towel covered arms.
“You did it! You did it Lil!”
But James words of encouragement meant nothing. Their baby wasn’t crying. Why weren’t they crying?
James brought the bundle up through her legs and into her chest. Lily gripped their slippery baby tightly while he rubbed them with a towel.
Cry. She pleaded. Please, please cry.
A piercing wail broke the silence of the night and relief flooded her.
“It’s a boy. Our little boy.” James kissed her sweaty forehead. “You brilliant thing you!”
31 notes · View notes
ace-no-isha · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
looked at this panel cus i was sad and started BAWLING. “say that you want to live” i’m trying but it’s so hard
16 notes · View notes
pepprs · 1 year
Text
having the issues i have is literally exhausting. like why do the miseries have to be ceaseless and the horrors unending.
#purrs#idk if im swaddling my inner child or str*ngling her (sorry) but she needs to stop crying bc my GOD i can’t keep living like this. my counse#counselor literaly told me i could get fired if i end up working somewhere else (🤨👊💥) and don’t heal AJD it’s like ok you’re right but also#shut up don’t fucking say that. but he is also so right like i can’t keep living like this. i was anxious and agitated all day and it’s good#that no one noticed but also like it takes so much energy just to sit in one place and do my work and respond to the stimuli and not start a#sobbing and howling. i hate this shitty fucking situation i want it to be over so i never have to feel this helpless again but im feeling pr#pretty helpless right now mutuals. i am feeling pretty helpless and i also cannot breathe because the elephants are taking up too much space#and i mean that in more ways than one. i don’t even have the energy to play video games rn like literally all i want to do is sleep. omg#still not as bad or in as bad a place as last week. and thank god i have not been dizzy since friday. but this is really pushing my limit. l#like im scared my heart is gonna give out from pounding so hard and i was trying to do affirmations w mysef and talk myself through the#logic and it didn’t work really and im like 😐 plus like almost every triggering / upsetting kind of situation that can happen has happened#today and i haven’t flipped out abt it it’s been more like slowly chipping away at me and.. i am at my fucking limit. i need to sit in a#sensory deprivation tank. and i also need to get married and/or a phd immediately. and i also need a lobotomy.
9 notes · View notes
maldito-arbol · 2 years
Text
It’s time for Mal to Talk in the tags again because I’m too tired to do homework or write so I’m gonna use my energy for this
#ranting online is kinda therapeutic since I can’t get therapy? ok so I just wanted to mention this and ramble#i about cried talking to my himbo friend over the phone the other day because he told me. the day I read that chapter (well. 1/4 of it)#to my discord server in the vc he came in and checked on me a few times and he said he hasn’t seen me look that happy in so long and it#hurts because I had to end that event early because I couldn’t breathe but I had so much fun talking to ppl and doing the reading bc I get#✨dramatic✨ and shit and yknow overall it was just such a great experience except for the not breathing part (the gods are punishing me for#the Bye Bye Air Collar from WJH) and anyway it just reminded me all over again how Unhappy I am constantly. i have spent my entire life#being treated like complete dirt by family and friends and bosses and coworkers and classmates and everyone under the sun so the second i#feel appreciated by Anyone I break into tears it’s So Bad. so like I enjoy going to work because even tho it’s so tiring and it’s so hard#dealing with customers sometimes I love it anyway because like. i feel appreciated there. by my boss and a handful of coworkers at least.#and that’s so much better than being in this house and feeling like I’m the devil’s spawn all over again sent to ruin everybody’s life by#merely existing. so work is a double-edged sword because it’s another source of Pain but it’s ALSO an escape which is Totally Healthy but#then there’s my fanfics. writing what I wanna write and sharing it with you guys and tormenting you and my blorbos is a kind of happiness I#will never find anywhere else. reading that to the server was one of those moments of pure euphoria even if I was plagued by Stage Fright#at the same time. so yeah. it really really really deepens my already horrid depression that I can’t write and I can’t release content rn#bc it means that source of pure happiness is gone with it and I’m left feeling all worthless again. idk how to fix all this. idk if I can.#I’m just so so so tired;;;;;#i forgot where I was going with this I feel like I keep repeating myself but anyway that’s all for now I’m gonna go see if I can cry#oh! one more thing. i haven’t talked to my Blood Family (apart from my sisters and Rarely my dad) SINCE I GOT KICKED OUT but last night my#aunt called me and we talked about my mother and she had a breakdown to me over the phone so I remembered all over again what it was like#living with my mother and maybe realized I never actually processed any of that trauma. it’s all just coming pouring out thru my writing.#all the Abuse themes going on in CMTO? 100% projection so sorry u had to witness this guys 💜 but anyway she told me I rlly helped validate#her own feelings and apologized for crying to me ab this but I told her what I tell everyone—that Crying Is Good For The Soul#and maybe that’s why I’ve been crying so much lately. because I need to. and I need to stop holding everything in. my friends are genuinely#worried and I somehow convinced myself that they have better things to do than listen to my whining. so anyway I’m gonna go cry 💜#for self care purposes. ok done for real this time see y’all soon next time I decide to rant in the tags again#mal rants
5 notes · View notes
yoohyeontual · 2 years
Text
.
3 notes · View notes
totopopopo · 2 years
Text
If anyone is wondering how isolation and Covid is treating me the answer is. Incredibly poorly
#I am so insanely massively depressed heehoo#the Covid symptoms are basically gone (but they were NASTY for a while) but I still can’t taste can’t smell I still have a cough and I#noticed I get out of breath more than I did literally 3 days ago. I sleep constantly and it’s never enough I’m always tired (that might not#be Covid though that might be the depression)#I haven’t touched a human person in almost exactly a week and I won’t for the foreseeable future. this is especially hard bc me and my best#friend basically live cheek to cheek we are always touching hugging cuddling we are always squished together so no contact with ANYONE is.#yeah.#also it’s the start of finals week! I have like 5 papers to write and a thesis to finish! and I’ve gotten zero work done all week because of#well because of all the reasons I gave previously :)#and the food is really really bad and they don’t fucking. let us have any control over it. and I really want like. fruit.#and also there’s no Wi-Fi that’s fun#and my chest hurts and I am always either crying or close to crying#BUUT HEYY#everyone at my college is still partying maskless and having a great time and posting on instagram how good the end of the year is going and#how happy they are the pandemic is over ! so yaaayyyy!!! thank god the pandemics over !!! thank god everyone can party !!!!!!!!#I’m sooooooooooooooo thrilled for them#now please hold while I cough up a lung#I’m so fucking miserable I want to fucking eat glass
1 note · View note
sillyblues · 9 months
Text
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Tumblr media
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic
part 1
Tumblr media
Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.
Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.
If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.
More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.
Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—
“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 
“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.
“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”
“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”
You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.
“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.
“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”
“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.
“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.
“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”
Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.
“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”
There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.
“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 
“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”
“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.
“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,
“But, Miguel..”
“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”
“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.
“Pfft, really?”
“Yes, really.”
There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.
“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”
“...I missed you all too.”
.
.
.
The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.
What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.
During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.
“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 
“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”
“Oh no.” you silently snorted.
“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”
“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.
“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.
Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.
“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”
You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”
“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.
“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.
“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.
“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.
“You had a fight, didn’t you?”
“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”
“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 
“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.
“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.
But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 
On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 
“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.
“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.
“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.
You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.
“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.
“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.
“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”
“Never.” 
“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.
“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”
You start to walk away.
“[Name], por favor,”
You were nearing the exit.
“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.
“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”
What?
“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.
“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”
“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.
“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.
“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 
Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.
Tumblr media
tag-list: (i'm sorry if i wasn't able to tag you!) @nxrdamp @um-well @nanasdumbworld @myconglomerateromance @sleepyamaya @harlekin6 @bittersw33t-lotus @saturnknows @miggyoharaswife @innergardentoadpony @asobriquet @mimooyi @misscaller06 @sciencethot @vainillasmil157 @just-a-mothboi @katsukiswrld @zukiizuks @cumbermovels @bigmood-myman @momos-peaches @lunrai @saint-chlorine @themoonsaynotocircus @deputy-videogamer @brittney69 @armins-ocean-seashell @galadrien02 @ranp01 @witherfag @eileen201804 @daryldixonh0e @chinglewingledingledong @mystar-girl57 @lorarri @poopoobuttsy @scarletsloveletter @mimimarvelingmarvel @tfygcdy @skulfan1 @roryrose327 @gamersansblog
10K notes · View notes
heeliopheelia · 12 days
Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
word count: 4.3k
warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding
a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!
masterlist
Tumblr media
LEE HEESEUNG
It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 
“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”
It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.
“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”
“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”
He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 
“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 
“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 
He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 
You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.
After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”
He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.
And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 
“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 
Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.
That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 
“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.
“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 
You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”
“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”
“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”
Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 
“Really?”
Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”
You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”
He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”
“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”
Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”
Tumblr media
PARK JAY
The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 
His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.
Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 
And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 
“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 
The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 
“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.
“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”
“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 
Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 
Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 
A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 
With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 
You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.
And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 
You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 
You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration. 
There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?
Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 
And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 
You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 
“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”
“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 
He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 
He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”
“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”
Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 
He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 
“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few drops of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”
“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 
“I love you.”
With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.
“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”
He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.
He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.
Tumblr media
SIM JAKE
“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
You sit on the verge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending?”
He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”
“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”
Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.
You’re honestly getting tired of it.
“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 
“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”
“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”
“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure if I still want it.”
To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 
“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”
You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.
Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 
You feel awful. 
Jake feels even worse. 
Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”
“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”
At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 
You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.
“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”
“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 
“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.
“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”
The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”
“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 
His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience again that for as long as you're with him.
“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”
Tumblr media
PARK SUNGHOON
“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 
And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.
“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”
“Fucking- Fine.”
Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 
You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 
“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 
You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”
“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”
The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 
“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”
No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 
“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”
With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 
He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.
“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 
He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.
So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”
You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 
“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”
And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 
He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 
You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 
“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”
You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 
“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”
You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”
His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”
You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”
Tumblr media
permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia
3K notes · View notes
rowarn · 3 months
Text
afab!reader, keegan fucking up into you, creampie <3
for the anon who wanted keegan content after PLM 🫡 i didn't forget about u
Tumblr media
there was something you absolutely loved about being pressed against keegan. When he was laid back against the bed, you in his lap, his strong arms wrapped around you and pinning your chest against his. 
you were already drooling against his bare shoulder from the way he was slowly rutting his hips up, his feet braced against the bed so he could get the most leverage. his blunt nails bite into your skin but you hardly even notice the burning sensation. 
“fuck,” he finally speaks, that deep, raspy voice sending heat straight to your core, “needed this. needed you all fuckin’ day.”
“kee…” you can’t help but whimper, lashes fluttering when the tip of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside. 
you don’t have the room or movement freedom to look between your bodies to see the mess you’re making all over him but you can feel it. you can feel the slick slide of your thighs against his hips and you can hear the gooey, sticky noises that your pussy makes when he slides inside you. 
your clit rubbed against the firm plane of his stomach every time his hips met your ass. you were jostled, easily rocked to his rhythm and you loved every second of it. 
“so sweet,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “bein’ so good for me.”
you keen under his praise, heat flushing to your cheeks when you involuntarily clench down around him. you know he feels it too, in the way he grunts and chuckles under his breath.
he adjusts his grip on you and you barely even have time to prepare yourself before he fucks up into you hard. 
you yelp when the tip of his cock knocks against your cervix. it hurts but it’s not anything new – keegan’s got a nice, long cock and you’ve come to enjoy that sweet pang of pain. 
he shushes you softly when you cry out but he doesn’t hold back. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and underneath your cries of pleasure you can hear the wet sound of your cunt swallowing every inch of his cock. 
the sounds he makes are quiet, easily missed under the volume of your own cries but you hear them nonetheless. and they’re lovely. keegan isn’t very vocal so you soak up any little sounds he supplies you. you’ve dreamt of pinning him down and riding him until he has no choice but tho cry out and moan for you. but you know that’s just a pipe dream because keegan is always in charge and has more self control than you think one could ever have. 
it just made the sounds he gave you all the more precious.
another thing about keegan was his unbelievable stamina. even supporting your weight, doing all the work to fuck his pretty cock up into your sweet little cunt, he wasn’t even out of breath. you were a mess – panting, moaning, drooling, and crying from how well he fucked you. every thrust was well-aimed to that gooey little spot deep inside you that only keegan was able to reach. 
pleasure fogged your brain, with your pussy stuffed nice and full, getting fucked just right and your clit grinding against him with every movement, you couldn’t even think properly beyond him. his name fell from your lips like a mantra, music to his ears. 
“g-gonna cum,” you manage to babble out between pleasured huffs. 
“i know,” he grunts, hand cupping the back of your neck in a firm grip, to keep you pinned against him. he loved the feeling of you drooling all over him, fucked nice and dumb all for him. he knew your body like the back of his hand, recognized the sweet breaks in your voice, the tight, wet clutching of your cunt, and the way your pretty body trembled and twitched in his hold. 
“keegan!” you cry, raking your nails down his skin as your feet kick up and slam back down to the bed, the stimulation becoming too much the higher you’re pushed to your orgasm. 
“yeah, baby,” he grunts from effort as he fucks you deeper and harder, working to get you over that edge, “i’m right here, babydoll. go ahead and cum for me, fuck.”
and you do. 
clutching at him and crying out in pure pleasure as you cream a sweet little mess around his cock. he imagines pulling out and seeing your cum covering his cock, imagines making you get on your knees and clean him up as thank you for fucking you so well. the image makes him moan, his own eyes rolling back in his head. his cock twitches and throbs in the heat of your twitching pussy and before you even come down, he’s filling you with his load. 
getting to creampie you is a  nice little reward for working hard all day and coming home to you <3
3K notes · View notes
sytoran · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader
despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.
cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie
word count. 2063
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
Tumblr media
“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.
The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”
You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”
“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.
The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.
You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.
Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.
As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.
Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.
“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.
The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.
You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.
“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.
You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 
Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.
She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.
The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 
However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.
That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.
Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.
Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.
“Natasha.”
Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.
Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.
“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 
When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.
The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.
Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.
The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.
You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.
She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?
“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.
Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.
A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.
Not comfort, then. What was it?
Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.
Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 
Oh. 
The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.
You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 
“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 
Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.
The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.
It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.
-----
If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.
The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 
Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.
“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.
You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.
“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 
It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.
“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.
“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.
You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 
“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 
When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.
Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.
An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.
The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 
Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 
You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.
Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.
The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 
You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.
This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.
You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…
“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.
“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.
Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.
With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 
“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.
Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.
Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.
Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 
-----
The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.
Shit. Was it my transformation?
You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—
To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.
She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.
“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”
“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”
Tumblr media
finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
voyeurmunson · 12 days
Text
Best friend Eddie will always be one of my favorite things. He’s such a dick, teasing you constantly. Doing the dumbest shit to piss you off. You fight about everything. Who picks the station on the radio, where to eat, who’s better at this or that.
He’s always picking on you and talking shit about any guy you’re seeing. Going on and on about their hair or how they walk, the smallest things about them just pissing him off.
But it’s because he wants you. He always has. And then one day he can’t help himself. You’re in the middle of some dumb argument, shouting back and forth when he pulls over and slams his lips to yours. And then it was over.
18+ below hoes
You’re grinding on his cock in the front seat of his van, practically clawing at each other, not seeming to be able to get close enough. “H-Holy shit… fuck, baby.” Eddie groans as you spread your knees, allowing him as deep as possible.
The nickname makes your pussy even more wet as you slow down, rolling your hips with precision, feeling his thick cock stretch you out. “Why haven’t we done this before? Pretty stupid of us.” you laugh breathlessly, feeling so fucking full, fuller than ever before.
Eddie grins widely, his dimples popping, as he gives your ass a hard slap. “Mmm, fuck. I agree… stupid. That was stupid of us.” his little chuckle turns into a low moan as you begin to bounce.
“Shit.. just like that. Just like that, baby.” Eddie murmurs as his head falls back against the seat. His cheeks are flushed, sweat sticking to his forehead from the summer heat and the shitty air conditioning in his van.
You bring your hands to back of his neck, your nails digging into his skin as you rotate your hips, slow circles on his cock, your pussy being stretched in the most delicious way.
“You’re. So. Fucking. Hot..” Eddie stammers, his eyes falling lower, watching carefully as you lift up revealing his cock covered in your slick before you sink back down. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy, so fuckin wet..”
Praises continue to pour from his lips as you start riding him faster, slamming yourself onto him, feeling him deep inside your stomach. You couldn’t stop the filthy moans escaping as you came down harder and harder on his lap. The lewd sound of your soaked pussy ringing loud in the confined space.
“E-Eddie, I’m so close..” you whimper, your thighs shaking slightly as you struggle to focus on your movements.
His hands are quick to grab your hips, his ringed fingers digging into your skin roughly as he lifts his hips, thrusting up into you. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock?”
“Yes, fuck!” you almost shout as he drives into your pussy at an insane pace.
“Come on, sweet girl. Want it all. Give me all your cum, baby.” he encourages, bringing his thumb to your clit, rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bud. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his once more, his kiss swallowing your cry as your pussy spasms around his cock, your cum soaking him completely.
You can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven as he fucks into your drenched pussy, every thrust making your legs shake even more. “Cum inside me, Eddie. Please.” you beg against his lips, making his eyes roll. His hips buck up a few more times before his jaw falls slack and you feel his warm cum fill you up.
“Holy shit.” Eddie pants, resting his forehead against yours. You both sit there for a moment catching your breath.
“So does this mean I can pick the station?” you pout up at him, your chest still rising and falling rapidly.
“Fuck no.” he scoffs, shooting you a wink before reaching behind you to turn the volume back up, Ozzy blaring through the speakers.
2K notes · View notes
hon3y-y · 1 month
Note
your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺
Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫
Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean
Enjoy<3
After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.
He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.
Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.
You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"
You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.
You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"
You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.
You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”
It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”
He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.
You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”
He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.
Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.
It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3
Tumblr media
A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋
2K notes · View notes
sociorafe · 3 months
Text
CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader
summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.
warnings: making out, marking, dry humping
author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!
taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut
Tumblr media
“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”
You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.
“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?
“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”
JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”
You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”
JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”
You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.
The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.
“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”
And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.
JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.
Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.
JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.
“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“
His words get cut off by a loud slam.
You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”
Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”
JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.
“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.
“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”
You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.
“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.
Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”
JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.
John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.
“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”
You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”
You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”
“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.
“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.
“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”
You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”
You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.
You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”
“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.
“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”
Tumblr media
Copyright to @sociorafe 2023.
2K notes · View notes