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#i only have like 1 close friend who i think wouldn't get it but like. cant say our relationship has been that great lately anyways
carmyboobear · 3 days
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Blood Orange (Ch 1: The Walk-In)
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Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)
Rating: E (7.3k words)
links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link
Summary: Losing your job is the worst thing to ever happen to you. Getting hired by Carmen Berzatto is a close second. You tell yourself that The Beef is only temporary, that it's just a replacement until you find something better. It doesn't work. You've stopped listening. You've had a taste of Carmy, and now you don't think you're ever gonna be able to let go. No matter how bad it gets. 
Content Tags: secret workplace relationship/sex, friends/coworkers with benefits, they/them afab reader, miscommunication, mental illness (carmy and reader), dom/sub dynamics, dom carmy (for now), enemies to friends to lovers (eventually), unhealthy coping mechanisms, dysfunctional relationship
A/N: It's finally here! New series! We even get sex in the first chapter! In my other fic, I'm taking care of Carmy. In this one, I'm making him worse. Of course, here's a disclaimer that I DON’T condone or intend to glorify any of this behavior. It's just compelling to write. Enjoy!
You return to The Beef for the first time in years when you're at your lowest.
The only upside to this abysmal situation is that the job was shitty. The job you just got laid off from, to be exact. Retail was never your passion, and there's a certain relief in knowing you don't have to go back to that windowless place. You didn't play an important role in the ecosystem, but it played a pretty crucial role in yours. It kept a roof over your head.
You're sure you could’ve sued them in some fashion for letting you go without any warning, any parachute, but you didn't have the luxury of time. You needed to figure out how you were going to pay rent, and fast.
After the rage boiled over (not to say that it's resolved, the residual anger's leveled into an even simmer), you pulled your hair back, found your cleanest, nicest outfit, and started your job search. With your updated resume in hand and scuffed sneakers on your feet, you've trekked all over Chicago looking for a new job. You weren't optimistic, nor were you hopeful. 
You suppose the only word you could use to describe yourself was desperate, and it was a matter of finding someone that was just as desperate, if not more desperate than you. To put it politely, the odds of that were low. Very low. 
You got laid off that very morning. The rest of your afternoon has been spent walking from door to door to every establishment you could spot. By some cruel twist of fate, none of them were hiring. The ones that were hiring looked unenthusiastic, even adverse to taking your resume. 
“When would you be able to start?” Some of the workers asked. 
“Tomorrow,” was your desperately honest answer. 
“If all goes well, you'll hear from us in a week,” was their response. The unspoken was, of course, the fact that radio silence was more likely than an email or phone call. Places didn't even send rejection letters anymore. 
“Thanks for your time,” you'd say, bringing out a bright smile from a complete lack of reserves, and as soon as you turned around, your face would drop. 
Your hopes were low, nearly non-existent, but damn. Damn. It wasn't looking good for you.
That's why you enter The Beef. You vaguely remember visiting this place a couple years ago, back when you first moved to Chicago. The owner was…pretty nice, actually. You don't remember his name, but you remember having a pleasant conversation with him. Of course, there's nothing you can do if he doesn't have a job opening, but it wouldn't be bad to see a friendly face. Even if that face is from someone who's basically a stranger. 
The doorbell rings when you enter. It catches the attention of the man standing behind the counter, and with how his head jolts up, you'd think the bell functioned as an alarm instead. 
“Welcome,” he says. Your first impression, other than the fact that he seems very, very, tired, is that he's irritatingly attractive. If anything, the eyebags and the greased back waves only add to whatever the hell he's got going on. 
“Hi. Um…” You're briefly caught off guard by his biceps, but you catch yourself. “I was actually wondering if you guys were hiring.”
“We are,” he replies, and it's the best thing you've heard all day. He lights up like the spark of a lighter, bright and instantaneous. It doesn't shake the pervasive exhaustion that radiates off him, though. 
“Thank god,” you mutter, and you want to take it back (it's far too casual), but he cracks an amused smile that makes you want to dissolve like a pinch of salt in a sea of sauce. “Sorry. Do you mind if I talk to the owner? We met a while ago, and—”
“I'm the owner,” he interrupts, and any other words you had planned fall away.
“Sorry?” You repeat. “I swear it was this guy—he had short dark hair, I think—”
“Yeah, he left the place to me. Didn't want it anymore, so.” He shrugs. The light you just saw from him has fizzled away like the end of a sparkler, short-lived and ultimately disappointing. 
“Oh. Got it. Uh…” To your credit, you don't fumble for too long. You have a lot of questions, but you've got more pressing issues. You pluck out a resume from a file folder. “Here's my resume, then.”
He takes it from you, flips it to face him. He's quiet as his eyes lower down the page, and you wonder if it's going to be a guillotine or a pot of gold at the end of this. The only sounds in the entrance are the passing cars outside, the rickety air conditioning, and muffled chatter from the back. 
“You worked as a prep cook.” He says it like a fact, but you know it's a question. 
“Yeah, nothing fancy. Just at some chain restaurants.”
“Right. I see you worked as a line cook at another location. Which one did you prefer?”
“Uh…” They both came with their separate pains. Your honest answer is that being a line cook was one of the most stressful experiences of your life, but if he has a position open as a line cook, you don't want to fuck it up. “They were both fine. I think I was a little better as a prep cook, but I didn't mind either.”
He hums, satisfied by your answer. At least it’s only half of a lie.                                                                                                                    
“How do you work under pressure?”
“Good,” you answer quickly. “Well enough.”
“Willing to learn?”
“Obviously. I mean…” You think you see a flash of a smile, but you're unsure. “Yeah.”
“When'd you be able to start?” You're surprised he's already asking this.
“Tomorrow,” you say, just like you’ve been, and his reaction is different from the others. He nods. He doesn't smile, not like he did earlier, but you can tell this is a good sign. 
Before he can get a word out, there's a sharp, metallic explosion of noises that resounds from the direction of the kitchen. 
“Uh,” he starts, eyebrows pinched in irritation, the voices come in. 
“I told you, you have to say behind!” A woman's voice. She sounds young, but there's no real way to be sure of that.
“How the hell did you not hear me coming?” A Chicago accent, male. Older, maybe. “I was in the middle of having a conversation with Tina—”
“Great, I'm so happy for you, I don't give a shit, now this has all went to waste—”
“Well, who's fault is that?”
“Who's fault is that? You did not just—”
“Guys!” The man you've been talking to gives you an apologetic glance before walking to the back, pushing through the folding doors. You catch a glimpse of the two people arguing on the other side before it shuts. “I'm tryin’ to talk to a new hire here. We can't be like this right now. Not ever, but especially right now.”
Finally, the first sane person I've met all day, you think. 
“Carmy, talk some sense into her,” the older guy shouts, and it gives you a name to the face. “All of this on the floor—”
“You didn't say behind,” the woman repeats, except with more fury in it this time.
“You didn't say behind,” he imitates back. “Carmy—”
“She’s right. Richie, step out,” Carmy says. “Syd, you clean this up.”
“But—” You hear her start to protest. 
“You spilled it, you clean it,” he cuts through, decisive and firm.
“I know, but Richie—”
“Clean it,” he repeats, firmer, darker this time, and there's a beat of silence. 
“...Yes, chef.”
“I told you to step out,” Carmy tells who you assume is Richie. 
“You're just gonna let her—”
“Step the fuck outside right fucking now!” Carmy screams, his patience shooting away like a gunshot. You feel something shrivel inside you, and not in a good way. “Do the one fucking thing you're good at and get out of the fucking way!”
Yeah…definitely not in a good way.
From what you hear, it sounds like Richie has to get wrestled outside by someone, whom you're not sure. After another minute, Carmy returns to the front. 
“I'm sorry about that. Fucking—” He drags a hand across his face. You swear his eyebags have grown heavier in the 5 minutes he was in the kitchen. “What was I saying?”
“Um, I was saying that I could start tomorrow,” you remind him, although the vigor you had just stated it with is a bit fizzled out. 
“Right. Okay. Uh—” He pats his hands on his apron, searching for something. A pen and paper appear in his hands, and he scribbles something on it. This is when you notice his tattoos. A flower on the back of his hand. Surprising. “You're hired. Here's the paperwork you need to fill out, along with the number and email you'll be hearing from me at.”
“What?” You take the sheets, but the smooth paper doesn't feel real in your hands. His handwriting is hasty and dark, like he was running out of time on a test. “I mean, I'm just surprised.”
“Do you not want it?”
“I want it,” you promise, and you feel your cheeks flush. This is a bad time to yet again notice how attractive he is. His pretty eyes, his nose. The little moles under his left eye. “Y-Yeah, I want the job.”
“Good.” He motions towards the sticky note again. “Come in at 8 am tomorrow. You'll be starting as a prep cook, which you've done before.”
“Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll be there.” The reality is setting in now, and an odd cocktail of relief, apprehension, and excitement is settling in your stomach. “Thank you so much.” I just got laid off from my job this morning, so this means a lot, you want to say, but it's too soon. You don't want to say anything that'll make him change his mind about whatever he sees in you. 
“Thank you,” he echoes back. “We need the help. I'll see you tomorrow.”
“See you,” you reply, and with that, the door rings behind you. A customer comes up to the counter, peering up at the menu. You figure this is your cue to leave. He's not looking at you anymore anyway. 
So, I got a job now, you update your friends, texting them on your way home on the metro. As the relieved congratulations come flying in, another remark seems to resound amongst all of them. 
I can't believe you got the job just like that. That place must be desperate, too, is roughly what they've all said. The thing is, they're not wrong. 
You managed to find someone more desperate than you in the job economy. Just one, but that was enough. It makes you think, though. You think about Carmy's weary blue eyes, his brief smile, and his hand tattoos. You wonder if it's just the restaurant that gives him that bone-deep exhaustion, or if it's a smaller part of a bigger picture. 
You think about it for the rest of your commute, you think about it as you smoke on the porch, you think about it as you lay in bed. You think about it as you fill out the paperwork, fingers tracing where Carmy's written his name, number, and email.
Carmen Berzatto
773-555-0901
So Carmy's a nickname, you think. Not about what type of boss he's going to be, not about what it's going to be like working under someone you are obviously attracted to. 
Maybe you should be more worried about this.
If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you tell yourself, and you foolishly believe it.
. . . . .
Your first day on the job starts with introductions. 
At least, that's about as much as you've figured out so far. When he sees you upon arrival, he pauses and stares at you like he's forgotten. Not a great start. Granted, he does snap out of it. That's when he tells you to follow him, which is where you currently find yourself. You're not sure where he's leading to, only that he's introducing you to others as you pass them by.
“They’re working with us starting today,” Carmy tells everyone. “They’re gonna be on prep.”
Right. So that's what you'll be doing. At least he told you that much yesterday.
The catalog of coworkers expands exponentially. You remember Sydney from yesterday, and to her credit, she apologizes about having you witness her fight with Richie, who conveniently isn't here yet. She seems the nicest out of all the bunch, so you decide to let it slide. 
Marcus is pretty nice, too. So are Ebra, Sweeps, Manny, Angel—everyone seems to be pretty alright. It’s obvious they’re standoffish by you being in their space. You find it hard to hold it against them. You’re not really sure how your relationships with them are going to pan out. There are only three that you’re particularly unsure on.
The first and obvious one is Richie. He came in eventually and didn’t give you the best impression, immediately talking over everyone and oozing arrogance. The only salvageable thing is that he’s not even a chef. At least you won’t have to be in the kitchen with him much. You want to avoid the honor of talking to him as much as possible.
Tina is next. She clearly doesn’t enjoy having someone new in the ecosystem, and she’s spent more time ignoring you than talking with you. As you understand it, she’s close to the rest of the staff since they’ve all been together for a while. Minus you and Syd, as you learn she’s only been there for a week. You think Tina will warm up to you…eventually.
Carmy is the last one, and he’s…he’s…
He’s something else.
He has you doing prep for most of the day. After introducing you to everyone and giving you a brief tour, he brings you to your station, scratched up stainless steel.
“You’re going to be cutting onions and carrots today for the stock. The vegetables are in the walk-in I showed you earlier, and when it’s done, it goes on the first shelf.” Carmy’s to your right, set up at his own station. You swear you keep your eyes focused on the vegetables, not his biceps in that shirt, but… “You should already know this, but label everything. I don’t want to see anything without a date. Got it?”
“Yes, chef,” you confirm, snapping out of it. He’s been flinging new information at you like it’s a war and he’s gunning to survive. But so are you. “I’ll do my best.”
“I expect as such.” He slides over a peeler for the carrots and some plastic bins for trash. “It’s just a stock, so don’t worry about an even cut. Just salvage whatever you can, cut off anything that doesn’t look good.” You nod. “Been a year or so since you did this, right?”
“Yeah. I cook regularly, but I’ll need to get back into the groove of things. And I will,” you add hastily. “I’ll combine them into this one when I'm done, right?” You ask, nudging a large plastic container. 
“Correct.” A brief smile flashes across his face. “You're already following quicker than I thought you would.” You’re not sure if he means it as an insult or a compliment, so you decide to take it as the latter. 
“I haven't even chopped anything yet.”
“I know.” His expression is flat again. You resist a laugh.  He plucks an onion from the bin, puts it in front of you. “Show me a rough dice.”
The knife is sharp. You notice this as you place careful cuts into the onion. It's not quite as sharp as his unnerving gaze, which layers pressure upon pressure. It builds up like a pastry puff, thin multitudes of layers expanding upward. You need to be good. You need to be perfect. You don't want to disappoint him, not this early, even though you've barely been here for an hour. 
It's just a shitty old sandwich shop, you tell yourself, but your dicing is uneven and you briefly think about accidentally chopping your fingers off. 
“Not my best work,” you admit, vaguely breathless. Carmy hasn't said anything yet.
“It'll do.” You're waiting for him to say something else, give you some tips, but he doesn't. Irritation prickles to the tips of your fingers. “I'll be back to check in on you later.”
You stand there, motionless and shocked in the aftermath. You're not sure what you expected from today, but being abandoned an hour in was not at the top of your bucket list. 
Man, what the fuck, you think, the thought clear in the silence around you, and that's the last time you can hear yourself think for the rest of the shift. 
There's a prepared stock from yesterday simmering on the stove behind you. It's flanked by boiling potatoes and reducing tomato sauce. The heat from it’s searing your back like a steak, slowly drawing lines of moisture all over the surface of your shirt. Your coworkers constantly invade your space to check on them. You suppose it's not their fault that the kitchen, but it's still irritating. They're also all shouting over each other like it's a competition.
“Who the fuck touched my stock—”
“No one touched your stupid shitty stock—”
“I am trying to find this cutting board, will someone please—”
You move on from the onions with only a thin layer of sweat collected at your hairline. 
Your hands are shaky as they peel the carrots. You know you're not getting as efficient of a shave as you could be, but the caffeine crash from your morning coffee is getting to you. You don't remember the last time you drank water. A cigarette sounds nice. 
“Clean your station, chef.” Carmy materializes next to you. You hear him before you see his hands scooping carrot shavings into a plastic container. It shocks you so much that you almost cut yourself. 
“Sorry, chef,” you reply reflexively. You look down at your station, straightening your tools. You want to ask if you can take your break, but you don't want to look any weaker than you do already. “So, uh, do we get 30's here?”
When you don't get a response, your head snaps up, irritation on the tip of your tongue, but he's not even there. 
Fucking hell, you think, annoyance simmering into something akin to anger, and you go back to finishing your prep. 
You don't see him for another hour after that. It's not even him that tells you to take your 15, it's Syd, who noticed you were half-way through your shift and on the verge of…something. 
“You finished the prep he gave you, right?” Syd had asked. You told her you finished and put it back in the walk-in. “Yeah, then go take your break. Did he not tell you we get 15's here?”
“He didn't,” you say, too annoyed to bother hiding the disdain in your face. Sydney just sighs, rolling her eyes, and you think you love her. 
“Asshole.” She makes a shooing motion at you then. “Go, get a break from this madness. It'll get better, I promise.”
You're not sure if you believe her, but you do step outside to take your break. 
As you stand outside in the back, you take note of tightness in your body that you weren't even aware of. The cigarette smoke calms you, loosens you. Or maybe you owe that to getting out of that hot kitchen. 
This time, you see Carmy before you hear him. You turn to the door to see him stepping out, a pack of smokes in his hand. 
“Hey,” he says. 
“Hey,” you reply.
“Everythin’ goin’ okay so far?”
“Yeah. It's fine.” Other than everything.
“Really?” His surprise just pisses you off further. “Well, that's good.”
“...Yeah.” You decide if your mouth stays unoccupied, you'll start cussing him out, so you put your cigarette back in your mouth. 
“You're bleeding.”
“What?”
“I said, you're bleeding. Your hand.” 
You look down at your hand holding the cigarette, and sure enough, there's a thin, shallow cut oozing blood near one of your knuckles. 
“Shit,” you mutter, quickly sucking the skin into your mouth. When you pull it back, the red refills. “I didn't even notice.”
“Let's get a bandaid on that.” He puts his unlit cigarette back into his pack. “I have some in my office.”
That's how you end up in the enclosed, dark space of his office, seated on the only chair as he leans back against his cluttered desk. The dingy first-aid kit is propped on top of a shaky stack of papers. Carmy takes out a bandaid from it and peels it open.
“Thought I gave you a sharp knife, it shouldn't have cut you like that,” Carmy comments. 
“It was sharp,” you correct. “Guess I just fucked up.”
“It happens,” he says, which surprises you. He keeps surprising you. You just can't seem to figure him out. “Let me see the cut.”
You only realize that he's putting the bandaid on you when he cradles your hand in his. His hands are warm. 
He has so many hand tattoos. You notice the letters on his fingers first, the SOU curled around your palm. You notice the other tattoo on the back of his hand next, since that's the one carefully placing the bandaid on you. 
He wraps it around your finger just right. Not too tight, not too loose. 
“Is that too tight?” He asks, almost in a whisper. He's so close, and he smells like kitchen oil, cigarette smoke, and a faded cologne you can't place. 
“No, it's okay.” You don't mean to talk so quietly back, but you do. You can't stop staring at his fingers. They're long and marked up with silver scars and burns. If you look carefully, you can place the locations of his callouses. 
“Good.” You don’t know why he does it, but he runs his thumb across the seams of where your bandaid overlaps. Surely it’s just to secure it further…surely.
“Thank you.” He’s still holding your hand. You’re unsure if you’re imagining the tension in the air or not. Everything feels more intimate behind closed doors, especially in low light. “I could’ve done it myself.”
“It’s easier if another person does it.” He lets go, finally, and you try not to mourn the loss. “Did you finish prepping for the stock?”
“What you gave me, yeah.”
“Alright. Let’s go take a look at it, then,” he says, like that isn’t the most anxiety inducing thing you’ve ever heard. 
“R-Right now?”
“As opposed to?” He opens the door to his office, and the muffled noises in the kitchen become sharp and clear again, like emerging from underwater. “Come on.”
You don’t know how it happens, but Carmy gets into five separate arguments on the way to the walk-in. FIVE. To be fair, two of them are from Richie.
“I’ve been telling you guys to sharpen your knives, don’t fucking treat them like this,” Carmy shouts, trudging over to someone’s station. “You see this? This is exactly what we should not be doing! How many times have I said this today?! Don’t—“
“Stop going into my office when I’m not there,” Carmy hisses at Richie next. “You keep fucking up where the papers are put, and I can’t find anything! It’s enough of a mess as it is! No—I said—cousin, listen to me—“
“Everyone shut the hell up, clean your stations, and get the fuck back to work!” Is the last thing he shouts before slamming the door to the walk-in behind you. He slams it so hard the wire racks rattle. You decide not to comment. 
The difference in sound is eerie. You’re always surprised by how sound proof these walk-in fridges are.
“Is this the prep you did today?” Carmy asks, touching one of the clear plastic bins. Sure enough, it’s the one you placed there a moment ago.
“Yeah, it is.” You chew the inside of your cheek. You were hoping he would be in an okay mood when he checked your work. It seemed like he was at first, but now?
“It's on the wrong shelf.”
“What?” You stare at it sitting on the first shelf, just like he told you to. “You told me to put it on the first shelf.”
“It goes on the second shelf.” He's pissed, and there's ice in your veins. He huffs as he takes the container and moves it one shelf up, slamming it down unnecessarily. “I told you—second shelf.”
“You literally said it went on the first shelf.” The ice has melted, and it's boiling. 
“No, I didn't.” You wanna punch him. Badly. You know what you heard. “And you forgot to label it.”
“Shit.” That, you did forget. You’re not above owning up to your mistakes, unlike him. “I'm sorry, I was—”
“We always need stuff like this to be labeled,” he interrupts, rude and abrupt. You can hear the thinly veiled anger in his voice. “I told you.”
“I know, I just—“
“Don’t make excuses. Just do better.”
“It’s my first fucking day!” You snap, finally, and it’s like a firecracker in the dead of night. “I don’t expect to be coddled, but I’ve only been here for a couple hours, and you’re just—“
“I told you to put a label on it, to put it on the second shelf, and you didn’t do either of those things.” This is a different type of anger. It’s quiet, contained. Dangerous. And with your outburst, it’s trembling at the edges. 
“You literally hired me yesterday!” You’re exasperated. “You looked at my resume for like two seconds before hiring me, and you’re mad that I’m messing up?”
“You had enough credentials on your resume. You told me you could work well under pressure and learn quickly. Is that true or not?”
“It is true! You just have to give me a chance first!”
“I just gave you a chance,” Carmy snaps back, “and you fucked it up.”
“Oh my god. I just—“ You take a step back. “I don’t have to take this shit.”
“Are you quitting already?”
“I wasn’t going to.” You move towards the door. “But maybe I should, before you fire me. Doesn't seem like you want me, anyway.”
You were planning on exiting the walk-in after that, to leave on cue, but the door doesn’t budge. You and Carmy notice it at the same time. 
Suddenly, there is a new problem.
“Fuck,” Carmy curses under his breath. The two of you are pushing against the door, but it won’t budge. He slams his fist on it and calls out. “Guys, the walk-in door is stuck! Can any of you open it from out there?”
“Carmen?” Richie's voice is muffled from the other end. There's the sound of frustrated efforts on the other end. “It's not fuckin’ budging!”
“Fuck,” Carmy repeats, seething, and you agree. “Call Fak!”
“I already did! He’s gonna be here in 20!”
“20 minutes?!” Carmy shouts. You close your eyes and sigh, audibly. “Don't we have a screwdriver in here or something?! Just take the hinges off!”
“Why do you think I called Fak?! Shut the hell up and be patient!”
“Tell him to hurry the fuck up,” Carmy barks, and that's where their conversation ends. 
“Just what I needed right now,” you mutter under your breath. Carmy's not looking at you, eyes boring into the door that's trapping the both of you in here with each other. “To be locked in a room with you.”
It's quiet for a minute before he speaks, cutting the silence open.
“...I do want you, y'know.”
“You—huh?” He said it so quietly you're not sure if it was a hallucination. 
“We need you here.” He's still not looking at you. “This place—it's fucked.  We don't have enough hands.”
“I can tell,” you say, and you mean for it to come out bitter, but it's soft. Naively so. 
“I want you here. I do.” He doesn't need to say it like that. You don't want to believe it, neither his words or the way hearing it makes you feel. “I need you.”
“Can you at least look at me when you say it?” 
You’re not sure why you say it. You instantly recognize it for how needy it sounds, but you don't get the luxury of embarrassment. Carmy's already turning to face you. 
“I want you,” he repeats, voice low. You think about the paint you'd need to mix to match the color of his eyes. Blue, white, and the slightest bit of orange to desaturate it. You're not sure what type of orange, though. “I need you.”
“Fuck,” you mutter, despite yourself, and it's too late.
“Are you gonna do better?” You didn't even register him moving closer to you. When did your back end up against the shelves?
“I’m gonna do better,” you whisper, “if you stop being such an asshole.”
“It won't happen again,” he whispers back, and you recognize it for the lie that it is. 
You don't really care, though. 
His face is so close to yours that you can see the separate specks of colors in his iris. You watch his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips, and it lingers there before rising again. Any shreds of self respect or control you were clinging onto disintegrate. It doesn't matter if he really means what it says. All that matters is getting your mouth on his.  
“Okay,” you say, a whisper of foolish acceptance, and you're kissing him. 
Or is he kissing you? You don't know who leaned forward first. It's not important. 
“I saw you staring at my hands today,” Carmy says against your lips. Spit makes your mouths slide easily against each other. “Yesterday, too.”
“What the—no you didn't,” you gasp, appalled, heat rising in your face, “how did you—?”
“You're right. I didn't,” he admits with a cheeky grin. You’re really gonna punch him now. 
“God, you're just,” you mutter, “you're such an asshole.”
“I know.” At first, you think he's being smug, but there's a surprising sense of remorse under it. You don't have time to think about it, though, not when his hand is cradling your face. There's no way he doesn't feel how hot your face is. 
“What're you…?” His thumb passes over your lower lip, and the words fall away. 
“Tell me you want this.” Your eyes flicker to his hand, then to his face. His other hand is at the top of your jeans, fingers resting on the edge of your waistband. Excited arousal hits your gut, sizzling like browning butter, warm and toasted. His eyes are dark, caramel on the verge of burning. “If you don't, I'll pretend like this never happened. I'll never touch you again.”
I'll never touch you again, he says, like it's not the last thing you'll ever want. 
“I want this,” you murmur. “Touch me. Please.”
“Good,” Carmy praises, one quiet word enough to sear your insides with heat, blue flame on the underside of a pan. “That's what I thought.”
His hands slip behind you to untie your apron. The strings fall to your sides, and you tug it hastily up and over your head. It falls to the floor next to you. Surely that's a gigantic health hazard, but Carmy's the one who throws it there, so you don't say anything. You lower your gaze to his fingers unbuttoning your pants. The sight of it makes you woozy. You take note of his other tattoos, noticing the letters on his fingers. You watch as the stabbed hand made of ink on his right disappears under the cloth of your underwear.
“Oh,” you breathe. You didn't expect his hand to be so warm, even though you had just felt his heated palm gentle on your cheek.
“You're wet.” The tip of his index finger dips into where your hot folds separate. It strokes at the fluid that's pooled at your entrance, coaxing it out. “When did this happen?”
“Fuck you is when,” you bite back, but it's all bark. “I don't know.”
“Sure,” he agrees, but not really. His condescending smile shouldn't be hot, it really shouldn't, but your pussy throbs against his hand, and he smiles knowingly. “All you need is me to talk and you get wet, is that it?”
“I—” His finger rises upward, splitting you open and flicking at your clit. You buck against his hand. “Don't ask me a question and then touch me like that,” you hiss, horribly turned on.
“Mm, sorry.” It's barely an apology. You throw your head back in frustration. “I didn't mean to.”
“I have a hard time believing that,” you pant. He's pushed your slick up your pussy to your clit, two slick fingers sliding back and forth on your stiff nub. The pads of his calloused fingers are rubbing you almost where you're too sensitive. 
“Then don't. I don't care what you think of me.” You think he's about to get his fingers inside of you, and your breath hitches, but he pulls back. You regret the frustrated whine that is just audible enough in the back of your throat. He does it again, just barely pushing the tips of fingers in before pulling away.
“You—why—do you want me to beg or something?” Your clenched hands raise by your sides to grip the collar of his white shirt and yank him forward. The shock that flashes across his face gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.
“It wouldn't hurt,” he mumbles. Seeing him stagger like this, even if briefly, sends a rush through your head.
“Is that what it's gonna take for you to get those fucking fingers inside me?” 
Like a coward, instead of answering, he leans an inch forward and kisses you. Or maybe that was his answer. That's when he sinks two fingers inside you, long and thick, pushing until your wet pussy's pressed tight against his palm. 
You moan, a pathetic thing, and Carmy swallows the sound of it.
“You're already begging,” he says quietly. He pulls his fingers out. You whine in protest, desperate and angry pleas on the tip of your tongue, but then he's pushing inside again.
That's the last moment of reprieve you get. His fingers start thrusting into you faster, dragging out slick each time he pulls them out. Paranoia suddenly screams that you’re gonna wet the front of your pants at this rate. The aching pleasure is louder than your fear, though. You can’t help the way his fingers are making you moan.
“More,” you plead, “give me another, I can take it.” Your hips are thrusting forward to meet his hand when they push inside. Your clit slaps against the heel of his palm, and you chase the friction. He must notice, because when he obliges and stretches you out with a third finger, he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit.
“You have to be quiet,” he says lowly when you keep moaning. “They’re gonna hear you.” 
“I—I’m trying,” you whine. You’re squeezing so tight down on him. You feel so full. “Your fingers—“
“You’re the one who asked for more.” He slaps his other hands firmly over your mouth. It silences your sound of surprise. “You said you could take it, so here’s what’s gonna happen.” His fingers are slamming into your now, and your hole spasms around them in pleasure. “You’re gonna come on my fingers, and you’re gonna be quiet. Understand?”
You know how soundproof the walk-in is. You had just witnessed it moments ago. But Carmy’s warnings do something fierce to you, bypassing logic straight into anxious, desperate arousal. He’s right, you think. You need to be quiet. You nod quickly in response, so he takes your consent and sprints with it.
To your credit, you try to be quiet. You said you would. But there’s only so much you can do when he’s fingering you so hard your legs are shaking. You’re whimpering into his hand, the sounds muffled.  Your own moans, his heavy breathing, and the slick sound of your pussy getting railed by his fingers—that’s what you listen to as you come.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing down tight,” Carmy hisses, and for an irrational second  you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but one look at his starved expression changes your mind. His three wide fingers are fucking you slowly through your wildly contracting orgasm. In one of his palms, you're oozing slick, and in his other palm, you're smearing with spit.
You should be thinking about how bad of an idea this all is, having sex with your boss. It’s too bad your orgasm is so potent you can’t think at all.
You lean your head back against the cold metal railings of the wire racks behind you. It’s uncomfortable, but a part of it feels good against the coiling heat that’s unraveling in your stomach. The air around you is cold, but you’re hot, far too hot. You don’t remember the last time you’ve finished this hard.
He finally pries his hand off your mouth once you've stopped clamping down on his fingers. His hand lingers at your face before wiping it on the side of his jeans. His expression has this unreadable, unnamed intensity to it, and you can't tell where that ends and where the hunger starts. Although he is looking very, very starved.
His hand that's tucked into your underwear tugs it upward as it leaves, pulling the fabric taut against your pussy. It sticks like paper mache with the glue of your orgasm, molded to your shape. You make an aroused noise that's a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
You're about to complain, something along the lines of “was that really necessary”, but then your eyes are zeroed in on the sheen of his fingers that were fucking you.
“Don't,” you start, suddenly worried he's going to wipe them on his jeans again, but you don't get to finish. He's pushing his index finger into your mouth, and you taste yourself on his skin.
“Good,” Carmy whispers when he feels your tongue wrapping around him. Fuck, hearing him say it like that does awful things to you.
You don't know why you accept it without a fight, but if you're being honest with yourself, this is exactly what you wanted. You start to suck, but he doesn't linger. When he pulls his finger out, your parted lips expect the other two, but he sucks them into his mouth instead. 
God. What do you even say to that? He even has the nerve to look you in the eyes as he pops his cleaned fingers out of his mouth. 
“Let me touch you,” you decide to say instead, because if you think about him and his fingers in—anyway. 
“It's fine. I don't need it.” He's oddly cagey all of a sudden. 
“Let me return the favor, please,” you insist, even adding in some good manners. It seems to still him for a moment, giving you enough time to lift his apron.
Fuck, you think to yourself, the word resounding like an alarm inside your head. His jeans are tented so tightly it looks painful. All this from touching me, you realize. You can see the shape of his bulge under the denim. The silhouette is vague, but...
It's big.
“Carmy? You still in there?”
A voice you don't recognize calls out beyond the door. As soon as you both hear it, Carmy jerks away. You mourn the loss only for a moment before you remember yourself. You're scrambling to get your pants buttoned and your apron over your head. 
“Yeah, I'm still in here,” Carmy shouts back, instantaneously irritable. His back is turned to you, and you want to feel those muscles tensing under your palm. “About fuckin’ time!”
“You're welcome, by the way! I could've left you in here to freeze and die a tragic death!”
“It's not just me in here, Fak.” A beat of silence. “Are you opening it?”
“Am I fucking—Jesus Christ, Carmen, just give me a second! I'm working my magic!”
That shuts Carmy up. Almost. He sighs before turning to look at you. 
“Sorry for getting us stuck in here.” The apology is equally as surprising as the softness of which he speaks. “Shitty first day, huh?”
“It's cool. It's not your fault.” Other than all the shit that was completely your fault, you think, remembering the way you were shouting at each other just a moment ago. “Kinda shitty though, yeah.”
“Yeah.” He sighs again. “If you wanna leave, I don't blame you.”
“I thought I wasn't getting fired.”
“You're not,” he says quickly. “But I'm—this place is a shitshow.” You're not sure which he really means to say, but you hear both. The restaurant, and him especially, are both complete messes. That much was obvious from the beginning. “So if you wanna take off, just…” He shrugs. “Just go.”
Maybe that'd be for the best, if you left. As far as first days go, you've already broken every rule in the book. You messed up your first task, got into an argument with your boss, and then had sex with him. Nothing about this place is particularly inviting, either. This restaurant wears its dysfunction on its sleeve, unabashed in all the ways it lacks. You had left the kitchen with ringing ears from all the noise and a cut on your hand you didn't even notice. 
But here you are. You're not running. Maybe it's because of the fact that you need to pay rent. Maybe it's knowing that just one more pair of hands here could really make a difference. Maybe you're just desperate to keep food on the table. Maybe it's Carmen Berzatto, beautiful, haunted, and angry. Maybe it's all of that, a combined whole that's become greater than the sum of its parts.
Or maybe it's just that now that you've kissed him, had a taste of him, you refuse to let go. Maybe the reason is as shallow as that. 
Carmy's been waiting for you to speak, tired eyes searching your own. You're still not sure what exact colors you need to perfectly recreate the blue you're staring at. 
“Almost done!” Fak shouts. “Just one more hinge!”
“Heard,” Carmy shouts back. He hasn't taken his eyes off you. “So? What's it gonna be? Are you staying or not?”
Blood orange, you think all of a sudden. That's the orange you would need to make the perfect blue to match his eyes. Just a little bit—that's all you would need.
“I'm staying,” you tell him. “I need to pay rent, after all.”
Yeah. That's the reasoning you're settling on. Rent.
“Right. Of course.” There's a glimpse of that gentle smile you've seen flashes of today. It fades away as quickly as it came. “After this, I'm gonna have you learn how to check produce next.”
“Okay, sounds good,” you say as naturally as you can, given the tonal whiplash.
“There should be some that's about to get washed. I'll show you where that is.” The door's shifting. “But before that…” He lowers his voice, leans in close. Is he about to kiss you?
“W-What?”
“Get a new apron from my office. That one's dirty.” Beams of light stream through the entrance of the walk-in, forced wide open. “You need to keep your apron clean, chef.”
YOU WERE THE ONE WHO THREW IT ON THE GROUND, you want to scream. Just when you thought he started being nice, he does something that makes you want to grab him by the collar and shake him.
But you can't. The walk-in's open again, and you see your coworkers crowded by the door. 
“Yes, chef,” you reply, and the words taste bitter on your tongue.
~
@zorrasucia
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mcflymemes · 2 days
Text
PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary
everything is a picture waiting for be taken.
you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.
are you hiding something?
i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!
i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.
i was eating those beans!
how the hell did you know about that photo?
always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.
you just don't listen, do you?
there's something weird going on with you.
you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.
after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.
not now. i'm contemplating shit.
are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!
i didn't have all the evidence at the time.
we all make decisions we regret.
i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.
i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.
it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.
nobody believes me anyway.
you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.
why the hell not?
i almost asked you to hang out.
you should have asked me.
maybe we're too much alike.
i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.
eat a dick, [name].
i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.
since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.
you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.
where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!
don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!
so you can't help me?
i told you before that i'll always believe you.
i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.
you're the bravest person i've ever known.
for every action, there's a reaction.
i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.
i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.
why do you want all your friends to die?
oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.
nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.
do not analyze me! i pay people for that.
hey, that's total slander!
you don't know shit about my father, or me.
you're all fucked!
everybody hates me.
[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.
i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.
you would have been cool to hang out with.
you might as well choose me.
i'm not perfect, okay?
you have talent, [name].
you don't have to push people out of your way.
thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.
do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?
nobody says we have to be friends.
everybody lies. no exceptions.
i came for all of you.
i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.
no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.
i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.
just tell me you do have the photograph.
now shut up and listen.
i'm not a real scientist.
i was just happy just being your friend.
[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.
i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.
everybody pretends to care until they don't.
even angels need angels, [name].
i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.
why did you stop me from jumping?
this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.
when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.
i keep going back in time.
how could there be a more important moment in history?
thank you for trusting me.
hey... be careful out there.
what kind of friend are you?
you never understood me, or what happened to me.
i'll always be alone, thanks to you.
just in case we don't get out of this...
i'm going to make the right choices from now on.
i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.
i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.
i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.
if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.
i just feel like escaping.
i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.
with great power comes great bullshit.
am i pushing myself too hard?
you like to hurt people, huh?
i'm glad you decided to escort me.
i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?
of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.
i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.
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draco-after-dark · 18 hours
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Hmm imagine if feral Jd came early and started to raise branch (like eldest)
Imagine in the troll village (14yr) branch was getting resources and came across Jd (he is feral that time) , then branch started training him, even giving him a saddle so he could ride him.
Then trolls 1 came(nobody knew feral had wings cause he never really used them, and I headcanon that his fur-cape is his wing accessories that branch gave him. )
At the creek betrayal) branch tried suffocating creek with the help of feral until the snack pack moved them aside
-time skip to the end
The time feral finally showed his wings was when they started singing "just dance" the snack pack and the other trolls were surprised by his wings when he started flying with his glow pattern. After that they started questioning branch about the wings
-trolls 2 the missing scenes are the same-
Escaping lonesome flats
As chomper was biting branch feral started to unfold his wings and show his glow pattern, they were all surprised by the glow that they didn't realize feral cutting off the mustache, and they officially escaped lonesome flats
At the rock village, feral was too busy looking at all the trolls he didn't realize that branch turned into a rock troll, once he realize he tried to save him but ended up turning into a rock troll
When poppy started singing he knew this was his time, he flew up to the middle and started glowing as they were singing.
-Trolls 3-
Feral sneaks out of the village in an attempt to find floyd once he got to the bottle he started using his claws that unfortunately didn't work. He told branch about this(in the middle of the wedding) and that's when poppy realized they were brozone.
Jd couldn't sing cause he still doesn't know the normal language so he just joined them in the song, Clay and Spruce realized that Jd wasn't really talking but decided to question them after saving floyd
(Bruce, Clay and poppy got captured when they got into a reunion with floyd cause they were too late to escape to the vents)
When Branch started singing "better place" feral got out his wings and flew with Branch on his back while singing, Bruce, clay and floyd were surprised by this but they joined in the song (the family harmony still work just like in your au)
This is basically a "what if Branch found feral" version, it's just a random shit that came to my mind while doing my exams... I'm bad at writing stories or something so it's okay if u judge my awful writing skills 👌 I mostly got this idea from httyd, I'm just too obsessed with your feral au😀 I just realized this sounds like a mix of feral and eldest😭
Don't mind my spelling I was in a rush coz I'm writing this on my exam(I'm online class)
I mean considering I'm Friends with the Eldest & Youngest creator it wouldn't be that weird to merge the two stories into something. We already made a Fusion design of Eldest and Feral. Their name is Fetch. Honestly surprised we haven't done it already but to be fair the only Au I work on is my Feral JD au so. *shrugs* Also not sure if you want like my input on the "What if Branch and JD reunited earlier" or not but here my take on the idea.
It would defiantly be interesting having Branch and JD interact so early on. Both Grey and scared of the world. Branch being more terrified then JD since he's been living out in the woods and already had his fair share of critter encounters by this point. I don't think Branch and JD would recognize each other right away. It's already been ten years by this point and they both look very different from what the other remembers. Both of them being grey would sort of peak the others interest but also knowing Branch and his habit for spiraling into the worse case scenario. He would probably think if he stays grey he's going to turn feral like the other grey troll he keeps encountering. JD would be the first to realize who Branch is when one day the two get close enough that JD recognizes the green leafy vest Branch is wearing as Floyd's. That would cause JD to try and steal it back from Branch until Branch yells.
"Let GO! It's all I have left of my brothers!"
JD would immediately stop and just start really looking at Branch. Sniffing him too. Nether of them know the others name because JD can't talk and Branch just always stayed silent anytime they encountered each other. Eventually JD pulls out Branch's old glasses from the band days and gently places them on his head. They both probably cry and share and big hug after that.
First movie would defiantly be interesting given the future plans I have for my au. I don't know if i would change much second movie wise. You'll just have to wait for the rock saga for that info.
I like the third movie ideas. Especially the bit about Clay and Bruce being confused as hell by JD being basically silent. Specially because of how loud and talkative he was when they were all trolling's.
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stillfruit · 1 year
Text
no one would love me if i was a worm
#this is a joke but also i 10000% mean this and i will die alone never having known love unlike everyone around me#it really gets more difficult to accept being alone when you get older because your aloneness is constantly contrasted w everyone else#having parterns or otherwise active social lives with very close friends while you just? barely exist as a person to others#i flat out cannot understand how people grow to be close friends let alone romantic parters like what do you need to do? how is everyone#just doing it? talking to people? opening up? being an important part of someone else's life? i don't get it#i have friends at uni i can freely talk to people there and everyone is very nice and i have closer friends i hang out with but like#if i just disappeared one day there wouldn't be that big of a change outside of maybe a small adjustment period after which everyone would#carry on as before because i'm not integral to anything#that sounds super childish but i don't mean that i'm sad that i'm not the main character in other ppls lives. just that i don't matter#and while that's of course understandable and i'm not looking to changing that it's also undeniably sad#and because i am the only person who can do something about that i'm just stuck like this i guess#i want to ask my closer friends how good am i at masking everything but 1 it would be weird and 2 i don't think they would be honest#not because they don't like me but because they are nice people#anyway lately as i'm getting older and meeting new people things are just getting exponentially more overwhelming and it physically hurts#i know i'm just suffering because i put myself up in a position to suffer but also literally what else would i do#if i have any time to stop and think about things i will actually have time to get even more mentally ill#i'm not looking to die right now i have things going on i'm doing my silly little degrees and spending time with my friends but like#it's not forever and i'm not holding out any great hopes for what comes after#i know i probably should go and talk to the student health services again but honestly i dont have the time or energy#for that kind of process and i know i'm a terrible patient in therapy so what is there even to gain from that#shit talking
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lavnderwonu · 16 days
Text
the boy next door | jeon wonwoo
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pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut
summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.
warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.
word count: 1.9k
author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷
click here to join my taglist!
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Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.
Wonwoo
Missed Call
Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.
Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.
Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.
You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.
You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.
you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.
It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.
Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here
He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.
You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.
Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone
You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.
on my way
You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.
Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.
“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”
“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.
“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”
You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.
“How much time do we have?”
“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”
His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.
You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.
You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.
Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.
He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.
You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.
He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.
“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.
“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.
“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.
Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.
“Keep watching yourself, baby.”
You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.
“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.
His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.
“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”
He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.
“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.
“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.
“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.
“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”
Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.
“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.
He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”
“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.
You blush, kissing him again.
“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.
Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.
You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.
You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”
Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.
You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.
“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.
You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.
“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.
“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.
“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”
“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”
You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”
He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.
You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.
“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”
“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.
Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.
You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.
“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.
“Can you be quiet?”
You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.
“Answer me.”
You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.
“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.
He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.
“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.
You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.
“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”
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tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung
some others i couldn’t tag! 💔
1K notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 5 months
Text
It's still not cheating when he's your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2)
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see here for part 1 and here for part 2.5
Summary: You just want to make a living, but Rafe Cameron keeps showing up and disturbing you while you're working. He's so damn annoying – and hot.
Concept: enemies, Who did this to you?
Warnings: mdni! – smut, rough sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), aggression, violence, manhandling, choking, cursing, name calling (reader is called a whore), mentions of assault (not by rafe), mean!rafe, also dark!rafe and protective!rafe
Word count: 4.7k
tagging those who asked for a part 2 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @niyahwhoreworld @luvagirlsworld @elizzzzz143 @ghostlycrystobalove @fabienne6656 @noodle81937 @sadexact @marauderssmut @daydreamerblues I hope you'll enjoy this.
“I knew that ass looked familiar!”
You frowned as you heard that dark voice behind you, but you didn't turn around. You pretended not to have heard anything and went on scrubbing the wall with the sponge. You were kinda good at that – not at the scrubbing, but at ignoring catcalls. You had suffered like a lot in the last 30 minutes or so alone. At least half of the dozen cars that had passed behind you on the street had honked at you while you had been trying to clean some graffiti off the supposedly historical wall of this supposedly historical building. They wouldn't let you use any hard chemicals (not that you could've afforded them) to get rid off the paint because they would destroy the precious stone, or whatever. So cleaning the wall took ages. Sadly you were not paid by the hour, but by results alone. The graffiti was actually some insulting – and very true – statement about kooks. You thought that the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. And you almost suspected your boyfriend’s best friend to be the unknown author. You could almost hear him say that he did this on purpose just to create jobs, which was absolutely stupid, and therefore could've been true.
“Hey!” that voice again, and you rolled your eyes, unseen by the one addressing you. You still didn’t turn around to the car that was driving by slowly. And now it seemed to have stopped. You heard a car door open, but you ignored that too as you bent down to soak the sponge in the bucket of water, which was almost black by now from the paint and the dirt from the wall.
It was still early morning, not too hot, but cleaning this damn wall was hard work, and a light film of sweat had gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, before stretching your arms high above your head to start scrubbing again. The foamy water ran along your bare arms. You were wearing a cropped top and jeans shorts. You should’ve worn gloves to protect the skin on your hands from the cleanser, you thought, when you heard that voice again. So close, it made you freeze and your breath hitched.
“Did no one ever tell you it’s impolite not to answer when spoken to?”
A shiver you tried to ignore ran down your spine as you felt his presence so very close behind you. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, when you smelled his scent; his dark, expensive cologne filling your lungs, your senses, and as if your body remembered, light goosebumps covered your skin – and you felt that throbbing between your legs.
“Or do you think I'm just a daydream?”
The arrogant tone in his voice drove you mad. You opened your eyes, your jaw clenched, but you continued staring at the wall.
Whereas before you had only felt his presence, you could now feel his touch. He was standing directly behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he leaned closer, his face next to yours, his lips moved close to your ear, while one of his hands found the exposed skin on your stomach. His long fingers slowly travelled under your top, shoving it up.
“I promise I'm real,” he whispered into your ear.
You shuddered, his hand cupping the underside of your breast, and you hated how your body reacted, how your traitorous nipples perked up, how your stupid legs got wobbly. You involuntarily let out a moan as his lips found your skin, touching that very sensitive spot under your ear.
You couldn't have this, not here on a public street in broad daylight, and not with him, not with Rafe fucking Cameron.
You spun around, saw a smug grin on his ridiculously handsome face and shoved the wet sponge right into his arrogant face – and you again wished that you'd have been able to afford more aggressive chemicals.
“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, moved a step back, rubbing his face, blinking, and looking at you both angry and in confusion, his mouth slightly open, his head tilted to the side, as if he expected you to explain your behavior to him when his behavior had been anything than appropriate or normal!
You looked at him with a little triumphant grin on your lips. But your small victory didn't last long.
His hand shot to your throat, gripping it so hard, your back was forcefully pushed against the wall, making you wince. Your hands wrapped around his arm, trying to fight him off, already struggling to breathe. And on top of that, his sudden proximity overwhelmed all your senses as his body was caging you in, making you feel his power over you. The look on Rafe's face was menacing; his brows furrowed, his eyes darkened, he seemed ready to kill.
Rafe moved so close that you felt his breath on your face, brushing against your skin. You could do nothing but gaze at him as you struggled to get out of his grip, in vain.
But suddenly Rafe's tense features changed. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed and he tilted your head to the side, inspecting your face, to be precise inspecting the left side of your face. And you knew what he was looking at.
“Who did this to you?”
He was looking at the bruise on your left cheek. Not just cheek, the black and blue mark covered almost half your face, from your eye to your jaw.
Rafe let go off your throat, placing both his palms on either side of your head on the wall. He was in fact caging you in now.
“No one,” you snapped, scowling at him. You tried to cover the bruise with your hair, but Rafe didn't allow it. He grabbed your wrist, held it, made you flinch at his strength. He would probably leave his own mark there.
“Bullshit,” he growled. “Tell me. Who did this? Your boyfriend?”
You detected something strange in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it, it sounded almost like he was being cautious, which was ridiculous. Rafe Cameron was never cautious or hesitant with his words. And despite that somewhat strange tone in his voice, it was commanding and he seemed to believe that he was entitled to get an explanation from you.
“No!” You frowned at him and managed to pull your hand free, so you could use both your hands to shove him away – or try to. He didn't move an inch while your hands lay on his broad chest. You could feel the hard muscles underneath his shirt. You could feel his rapid heartbeat. His chest rising and falling as he stared at you intensely.
“Like you would care anyway…” Your voice soft and unsteady.
You expected him to say something disregarding like that he didn't give a fuck and that would end this conversation – this tense situation. But he didn't. Rafe looked at you with a stern expression and when he spoke, there wasn't even a hint of mockery in his voice.
“Who did this to you?” He asked again.
There was something so earnest in his tone that you just looked at him, stunned, for a second. You felt your heart beat so violently, it felt like he must have heard it too.
You bit your lips and averted your gaze.
But Rafe wouldn't let you. His fingers under your chin, guided your face, made you look at him. And he gazed at you. His blue eyes so dark, so intense, they were penetrating you. And you shuddered.
“My landlord,” you answered his question, unable to resist his demanding tone any longer.
Rafe didn't say anything, but looked at you, waiting for you to continue.
You felt a lump in your throat and your voice sounded weak when you spoke more.
“I couldn't pay the rent and he ‘suggested' another form of payment. But I –” The fresh memory made your voice trail off and you felt tears gathering in your eyes.
“Did you?” His voice was low.
“No!” You glared at him, some of that familiar anger returning and making your voice stronger. “I'm not a whore!”
Rafe's words from the other night were still clear in your mind and fueled your rage anew. You tensed up and suddenly realized that your hands were clawing at his shirt. You kept them there and you looked Rafe straight into the eyes when you continued, “I told him to shove it and kicked him in the balls.”
Was that a hint of a smirk on Rafe's lips?
“But when I tried to get away, he gripped my hair, yanked me about and smacked my face against the doorframe. I wriggled out of his grip and ran. End of story.”
You gave Rafe's chest a shove and this time he moved a little back. So you ducked under his arm and walked off.
But you didn't get far.
His hand caught your wrist. He spun you around and you slumped against his chest, gasping in surprise before his lips covered yours.
You reacted without thinking. Your mouth opened, your lips moved against his. It was pure impulse, so strong you couldn't resist. You felt his strong hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you, kissed you deeply.
Waves and waves of intense electric tension were rushing through your body. For a moment you felt like you could let your guard down and just melt into his touch, melt against his body.
But you couldn't let that happen. This was never going to happen. The harshness of reality woke you up.
You pulled back and smacked his cheek with your hand, so hard, so loud, your palm burned.
Rafe looked at you, his lips parted – so dangerously close to yours…
“I could give you the money –”
His features were so soft, and the way he looked at you, it made your chest tighten and you felt your tears returning.
“Fuck you! I told you I’m no whore! I'm no one's whore! Not his and certainly not YOURS!” You screamed those words right at his face.
And Rafe just stood there. He did not attempt to grab you again, to pull you close, to kiss you, to hold you...
He just stood there and looked at you. Then his mouth closed and he nodded and his lips moved again, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, as if he was talking to himself. And then he just turned around and walked away, got into his jeep and drove off.
And you exhaled, and all tension fell from your body. You were shivering and no longer held those tears back. You cried out and a passing driver looked at you in confusion and you yelled after him to fuck off and kicked at the water bucket – and regretted it a second later. You would have to get fresh water and then start working again. You had wasted more than enough time already. Because of Rafe fucking Cameron.
***
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A few days later.
“What you doing here?”
Fuck, was he everywhere? You looked up from your phone and saw Rafe Cameron on his dirt bike, just having taken off his helmet, smoothing down his hair with his free hand – and grinning at you.
You glared at him and focused on your phone again, leaning with your back against the shop window. You tried your best to ignore him, hoping that he would for once get the hint.
It had been only three days since your last encounter; the bruise was still showing on your face, the cheap make up you had wasn't enough to cover it completely, but you had arranged your hair in a way that hid most of it – at least you hoped it did.
“Waiting for clients?” Rafe’s voice sounded closer. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint.
You didn't look up, but you could see and feel his shadow on you. He had gotten off his bike and walked over to you.
“Fuck off, asshole. I have no time for your bullshit.”
You looked up from your phone to glare at him.
He stood directly in front of you, had stopped about two feet away. It annoyed you how much your body already reacted to his presence. Your skin buzzing without his hands even touching it.
Rafe's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair.
“What are you doing here?” You hoped you sounded as annoyed as you were.
“Buying a new 8-iron.”
You knitted your eyebrows.
“So what are you doing here? All dressed up – like that,” Rafe asked, pointing at your outfit.
You had to admit it was an unusual look for you. You were wearing a white blouse, all buttoned up, and a black pencil skirt reaching to your knees, the fabric stiff and making your thighs itch. It wasn't yours. You had to borrow that skirt from your neighbor.
~~~
When you walked over to your neighbor's door that morning, you looked around nervously, making sure not to accidentally run into your landlord. You wouldn't want to repeat that kind of encounter, especially not today when you had a job interview for a position at a stationery shop on main street. One of those fancy-ass shops where kook parents bought school supplies for their spoiled offspring. With school starting in a few weeks, they had a new position to fill. Though it was just temporary, it was good money, and maybe even a chance for something permanent.
“Try this on, I think it might fit.” Your neighbor held out a black skirt from her closet, handing it to you.
You were standing in her small bedroom, trying not to step on the stuff scattered on the floor. You pulled down your shorts and put on the skirt and frowned at the image of the young woman in the mirror. You did not like it at all, but the skirt looked like something someone working at a kook stationery shop would wear, so it would do.
You thanked your neighbor and were about to leave when you remembered that it had been days since you had last seen your landlord, which was unusual, since he was always lurking around, sitting by the empty pool, shouting at kids or harassing his female tenants. Your neighbor always knew the latest gossip, so you just asked her about his whereabouts.
“Haven't you heard?”
“Heard what?” You frowned at her in confusion.
“He got run over by a car three days ago.”
“Oh,” you said. “Is he alive?” You knew it was bad to wish someone ill, but part of you couldn't help hoping for the worst.
“Barely. He's in intensive care. Can't move a single bone in his body. His jaw is completely crushed.”
“By the car?”
“No. After he'd been hit, the driver got out of the car and beat him up. With a golf club.”
You raised your eyebrows. “With a golf club?”
She nodded.
“And did they, did the police catch whoever…?”
She shook her head. “Strange thing. No one saw anything. Though it happened in broad daylight. On the street right in front of our compound.”
“Huh,” you said.
“Yep,” she shrugged, folding clothes and putting them back into her closet. “And he can't remember anything, he says. Well, he can hardly speak with that fractured jaw. Only liquid diet for him for the next couple of weeks and I guess he won't be around that soon.”
~~~
“I have a job interview, if you must know.”
You put your phone away and pressed your now empty palms against the cool glass behind you.
“A job interview?” Rafe cocked his head.
“Yeah. You know, some people actually do have to get jobs and work for a living.”
You expected him to snap or at least frown at you, but he just grinned.
“So you're nervous?”
You glared at him. “What do you want?”
He chuckled and lifted his hands in a defensive way. “What? Can't I just make friendly conversation?”
The frown on your forehead deepened, your muscles tensing so much, it hurt your damn bruise.
“We are no friends.”
“True,” he shrugged, but he still didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at you. You wondered if he didn't have to be somewhere, but didn't bother to ask, because obviously, the answer would be ‘No'.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head in another direction.
Your foot was tapping on the ground, because, yes, you were fucking nervous. This was important and Rafe Cameron standing there and staring at you like that made you nervous in another kind of way. But you couldn't have that now. Or ever.
“I could help you relax, you know.”
Your head spun around to face him, and he looked like he actually meant it.
You glared at him, but fuck, your traitorous body reacted in an instant. Your skin was buzzing, you felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with being nervous about the interview.
“When's the interview?”
You checked the time on your phone. “Twenty minutes.”
“Ah, not nearly enough time,” he said with that cocky grin.
Why the hell could you practically feel his voice crawling under your skin when he was just standing there?
You pressed your legs together, and feeling the rough fabric of that damn skirt on your skin made you even more itchy.
And Rafe just stood there and he looked so fucking handsome, almost sweet with his baby-blue polo shirt, those fucking curtain bangs and that smile. His hand casually touched his lips, effectively drawing your attention to both his lips and those fingers – god, those fingers…
You growled – at least you hoped it sounded like a growl.
“Fuck it.” You exhaled. “Where's your car?”
“I'm afraid the jeep is at the auto shop. I had… an accident.”
Your eyebrows moved up. Did he just grin?
“But I know a place...”
Rafe moved his head, pointing with his chin in the direction before he started walking, and he just grabbed your wrist to pull you along. You mouthed a complaint, but followed him into an alley behind the storefront.
“I’m not gonna let you eat me out between dumpsters.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. He tugged you along to a door which he somehow managed to open.
He held it open for you to walk inside, which you did, while eyeing him.
“How do you know about this?”
Yet instead of answering, Rafe grabbed your neck and hip and his hungry lips found yours. And this time you didn't push him away. Your hands found his hair, tugging at it as you reacted to the kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, something so hot, so feverish was ignited, and you had no intention to stop it. Your eyes closed and you heard the door fall shut and some clicking sound that must have been a light switch, but you had no intention of checking. Your body and his were so closely entangled, and you just let him move you in the direction he shoved you, practically clinging to each other.
With your eyes closed, you had shut out any rational thinking. All you wanted was feel. Him. Your own hands eagerly slipped under his shirt – under that damn baby-blue shirt that suited him so well. You couldn't wait to get it off of him.
Rafe seemed to be reading your mind – or just your body – he obliged, broke the kiss to take off his shirt.
And you gazed at his perfectly sculptured torso, those abs made you literally lick your lips.
You were slightly panting, when you quickly took in your surroundings. You were in some dusty storage room that didn't seem to be used – except for Rafe's fuckdates probably. The thought should appall you, but fact was, you were so hot for this guy, you were aching for his touch. And the way he looked at you told you, he was as hungry as you were, maybe even more – blue eyes so intensely gazing at you, you felt naked when still fully clothed. That throbbing between your legs was getting unbearable and you knew that your panties must be soaking wet by now. Just from that damn kiss. That damn hot kiss.
You saw him lick his lips and your breath hitched.
“So are you gonna get on your knees now?” You tried to make your voice sound firm when you felt your body trembling with anticipation.
Rafe chuckled and shook his head.
Stunned for a moment, you just gaped at him, but the next moment he grabbed you and turned you around, and you managed just in time to brace yourself with your hands before colliding with the wall. You let out a gasp.
You craned your head back, as you heard him unzip his pants.
“Fuck, you promised to go down on me!”
“Never said that. I said I'd make you relax.” You could only hear his dark voice, but you were sure he was smirking.
You felt the hot touch of his fingertips on your thigh, felt his hand moving under your skirt, moving between your legs that just parted on their own. You shivered, mewled, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Such a light touch shouldn't affect you that much. You frowned at yourself and reached back to slap at his arm, a rather half-hearted attempt to stop him.
“Oh, you don’t want my cock inside you? I can just leave…” The arrogant tone in his voice made you growl. And the touch of his fingertip grazing over the fabric of your panties – your soaking wet panties – made you moan.
This guy made you so incredibly mad – and needy.
You scoffed and mumbled a curse.
You gripped the hem of your skirt and shoved it up over your waist, pulled down your panties, and they dropped to the floor. You faced the wall, pushing your naked ass out, arching your back and spreading your legs.
“Fuck me. And make me cum”, you commanded – hoping he wouldn't realize how much you were aching for his cock to fill you.
You heard him exhale and shuffle behind you. His large hand on your hip, you felt his length brushing along your slit, pulsing.
“And make it quick,” you said, already panting.
“That I can't promise.”
You were about to talk back, when Rafe's grip got firmer and his hard cock pushed into you, taking all your breath away.
And that was everything you felt from that moment on; your whole being was literally centered around Rafe Cameron’s cock buried deep inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, but he pushed harder, thrust into you with his whole length. You heard him inhale sharply and he remained still for a moment. Then his cock slowly retreated, before thrusting even harder into you.
You found your breath again, panting, moaning, whimpering as he fucked you.
His arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand grabbing your throat, causing you to tense up more, and feeling another rush flooding your senses. He growled close to your ear. Your back arching, moving at his will. You were burning up and shivering at the same time. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach as he continued fucking you from behind, causing you to flinch. His fingertip rubbed your clit – damn, it shouldn’t be so easy for him to find exactly the right spot right away and to give you what your body craved for.
His touch was rough and ruthless, nothing tender about the way he fucked you and pushed you quickly close to the edge. You couldn't even try to hold it back. Your orgasm hit you hard and you moaned shamelessly as he was fucking you through your high. Your body not feeling like your own anymore but something Rafe was in charge off. And he was in absolute control over your sensations, your body, your desires. You were still riding on that high, legs shaking, when you felt another climax building up inside you.
You lost all sense of time or place or anything. You didn't just feel his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his breath on your skin. You felt him everywhere. Every cell of your body was filled with him, his power, his greedy nature. And you'd never felt so much like yourself.
He made you cry out and whine, moan and whimper pathetically as he fucked you relentlessly, turning you into something he used to satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite.
When you thought you couldn't take anymore, when your body was nothing but a trembling mess at his mercy, he grabbed you harder, fucked you deeper, and hotly groaned into your ear.
You screamed his name, so loud, your lungs burned.
Your body convulsing as you felt his hot cum spilling into you.
His hand turned your face sideways and he whispered something into your ear, but you didn't get the words, only felt his hot breath, only felt his hard cock pushing again into you, up to the hilt.
You had no chance of stopping all those pathetic sounds coming from you, as your body was convulsing around his.
He held you, for a while. You were panting heavily, as you felt his heartbeat at your back.
Your whimpering sounds stopped and your breathing was eventually calming down.
When he pulled out, you almost collapsed to the floor, as your legs seemed unable to carry your own weight. He caught you. Rafe slowly turned you around and held you.
You looked at him, his face flushed, his lips parted as he seemed out of breath too. There was something in his eyes, something so soft. Something that was ripping at your chest.
He slowly moved closer. And the tightness in your chest was unbearable. You pushed him away.
He stepped back and bent down to pick up your panties, handing them to you.
You watched him through narrowed eyes as you put them on. You winced when you felt his warm cum dripping out of you. You glared at him as he grinned.
“Don't you ever use a condom?”
He grinned more and shrugged. “Consider it a lucky charm. For your interview.”
You froze as reality hit you hard.
“Fuck.”
Hastily you smoothed down your crumpled clothes and checked your phone. You were late for the interview. And looked like a fucking mess. Your hair in disarray, your face glowing, sweat covering your body. You looked like you had just been fucked into oblivion.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You looked at the camera and tried to at least wipe away the smudged mascara from your cheeks.
You looked up and saw Rafe, who was just standing there, shirtless, his heaving chest covered in a light film of sweat. He looked at you with that look.
“I hate you.” You scowled at him.
And he just shrugged. “I don't care as long as I get to fuck that fine pussy of yours.”
A surge of hot rage was about to make you jump at him, scratch his blue eyes out, kick his balls, hit his handsome face – but you just let out an exasperated growl, and pushed him out of the way as you left the storage room as fast as you could – thanks to Rafe Cameron that wasn't too fast, as your legs were shaking and you were goddamn sore from being fucked so thoroughly.
a/n This got kinda long and has a lot of plot. Sorry. Reader and Rafe somehow wouldn’t shut up. I appreciate all your feedback and thank you for reading!
1K notes · View notes
electrosair · 5 months
Text
Jealous headcanons anemo + cryo ver.
english isn’t my first language, sorry for mistakes
characters: heizou + kazuha + scaramouche + venti + xiao + kaeya + wriothesley
word count: 1k
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Heizou
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
4/10 He's not really jealous over you, it's more with people who may get close to you, mostly because of the attitudes they may have towards you. It's not something he likes and he's not going to tolerate it either, but he will always do it in discreet ways.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
7/10 Whenever he sees someone start to make moves on you, he will pull subtle acts, as if teasing the person who is looking for a good time with you. He'd never let you know if you haven't noticed, doing things like putting an arm around you or throwing glances when you're not aware of him.
what is he most jealous of?
In cases where you realize it, Heizou would be annoyed if you jokingly and having warned him about what was going on, you jokingly play along with the other person. It's something he would draw the line at and stop doing after he began dating you.
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Kazuha
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
3/10 He is easygoing with everyone, so there are no exceptions with people who are looking for something with you. He wouldn't take it too bad either, he would leave it up to you unless you go to him for help, only then would he jump in.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
2/10 He prefers to leave you to your own criteria and freedom, as he himself has decided to do with his life. As long as you spend a certain amount of quality time by his side experiencing new things and places, that's enough for Kazuha.
what is he most jealous of?
It doesn't happen often, but it would be a thorn in his side if you go to places, which you discovered with him during your travels, with other friends or acquaintances of yours. He would like it to be something intimate and meaningful between the two of you.
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Scaramouche
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
10/10 Occasionally he may vent his jealousy on you, because of silly arguments or disagreements that you have, but mostly he would do it with those who are going to flirt with you. In the end he understands that it's not your fault, so gradually he tries to fix that problem.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
9/10 Most likely, he already felt this way about you even before you started dating officially. He would have behaviors like asking you to go out with him every day in the hopes that you wouldn't end up noticing someone else.
what is he most jealous of?
If you are outside and someone's attitude towards you really shocks him, he can't help it, an impulse in him would get you out of there immediately without thinking. Scaramouche's not going to tolerate that kind of stare over what he considers his own.
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Venti
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
4/10 Even when something in him goes wrong and he feels jealous, it's as if at the same time he knows that he must give you freedom to act as you want and after all, you wouldn't change him, right?
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
7/10 He likes to keep you close all day long, write songs and ballads of his beloved without the need to name names or tell the rest who exactly you are. He's not going to do that if it means that others also know who you are and will approach you, whether to ask about the archon or a simple bard.
what is he most jealous of?
One of his greatest fears is to keep losing the people he loves even though he knows that it is inevitable with the passage of time. Venti would not be able to bear that, apart from factors like this, you would be the one to voluntarily leave his side and go with someone else.
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Xiao
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
6/10 I feel that individual acts would make him feel insecure and jealous over you when you're away from his side, so he tries to always keep an eye on you so he knows where you are. That way he could be ready all the time when he needs to do something because of another person flirting with you.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
8/10 His way of expressing that you belong to him in some way or another would be with small marks made by his own teeth on your skin, in places where only he can see and no one else. That's why they are there after all, isn't it?
what is he most jealous of?
When you start spending more time and hanging out with other people, specifically a single one that he doesn't even know by sight and you get to complain to him that he's been checking you out more than usual. Xiao likes to think to himself that he's doing it for your safety.
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Kaeya
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
3/10 Even if he occasionally feels upset by people near you, he prefers to trust you enough that he won't try to do anything unless he feels it's too much and you're not doing anything to stop the situation.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
5/10 Only when he is aware that someone is making moves on you will he become more possessive. Whether it's to make you feel a little safer if you send him a look of distress, or to scare off whoever you have after you, no one is going to mess with the cavalry captain's partner.
what is he most jealous of?
It's something he enjoys taking you to bars so you can try his favorite drinks and he can see your reactions. But every time he goes away for more than three seconds and someone comes to buy you a drink Kaeya's face changes, he would come back as fast as possible to your side.
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Wriothesley
how jealous is he from 1 to 10?
2/10 Just enough to throw a glance, although he would only do something directly to the person who is flirting with you if their actions escalate quickly. In those cases it would be more to defend you than for his own jealousy, he is not afraid to come to blows.
how possessive is he from 1 to 10?
6/10 He would like to show everyone with a minimal amount of interest that the two of you are doing well together and that you are his, whether it's by pressing you against his body or asking you to stay in his office on his busiest days.
what is he most jealous of?
Definitely some people would only approach you to do you favors and earn Wriothesley's or get closer to him in some way. He would try to keep you away from these people whenever he could, keeping you by his side whenever he saw strange behavior.
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alwaysshallow · 6 months
Text
— gorgeous, part 1
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)
AO3 version
A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3
next part
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The first time you see him? It is a wild one.
You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?
First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:
a) he actually had a fish tank,
b) if he had some fish in it.
The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer. 4 hours longer, but who count that, right? There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet. Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?
"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.
His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.
You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.
"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.
"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."
He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.
You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.
As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.
Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.
Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.
"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."
"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.
Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.
"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.
"Who said I won't?"
As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...
"So, you will?"
"Mhm."
You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.
It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.
"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"
Again, no response, just a simple nod.
Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.
Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.
Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.
And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.
At least a few words more.
"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.
Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.
"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."
He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.
You expected some questions, though. Anything. "Questions?" "Not really" he said, glancing at you.
"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner. "I can stand."
So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.
"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.
Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.
"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.
"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.
It seemed almost done.
"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."
You chuckled, amused. "Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."
He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.
Hell, what was that in him?
"Is adress necessary?"
"Not really, no."
You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.
Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.
"Name?" you looked at him.
"Simon Harris."
It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.
"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.
"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.
Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.
You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.
Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.
And because of other things that you'd like to forget.
"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?
You wanted to see his face, badly.
"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"
Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.
"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."
He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation. "Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."
"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."
And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.
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hotyanderedaddies · 6 days
Text
The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 4:
Yandere Bully Interrupts Your "Date"
Part 0 │ Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Jonathan was a nice guy, you figured.
The quarterback of the football team was always all smiles, and he seemed to never treat you differently despite being way higher up on the social ladder. Therefore, you sort of liked to tutor him. Not only did it feel like you were sometimes hanging out with a close friend, but it also made you feel good deep down that a guy was paying you some attention... even if it was just for school. But still.
And plus, you figured that he could potentially protect you from Blake.
Seriously, it was crystal clear that Jonathan lived in the gym after school, given his large muscles and athletic prowess.
Blake is muscular too, but he tends to hide his bulk underneath his leather jacket.
But still!
You tried your best to force your mind away from Blake as you and Jonathan pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. It was a small place where the two of you could be uninterrupted during your study session. It was one of the few local spots where Jonathan would treat you as payment for tutoring him, and you'd always order something sweet and tasty!
The two of you took your seats at one of the booths near the back, and your eyes stayed glued to the door. The constant fear of Blake finding you kept you on edge, and you found it hard to stay present with your brain always straying back to the bully.
You mentally berated yourself, annoyed that you kept thinking about Blake.
He'd claimed you as his, and you'd gotten three strikes.
Both of those spelt trouble in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to avoid the guy. Therefore, you figured that being away from school with someone big who could protect you was the best course of action.
Jonathan and you placed your orders and tried to start the tutoring session, but it was close to impossible for you to get your nerves settled.
"Is something on your mind?" the jock finally asked when he'd noticed you staring nervously at the door for the millionth time.
"O-oh!" you mumbled, jerking out of your panicked daze. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... distracted." You sheepishly smiled at the end of your statement, hoping that the jock wouldn't catch onto you inadvertently using him as protection.
Jonathan pursed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. "So," he slowly asked, shrugging his broad shoulders, "is it Blake?"
You jerked back in your seat, shocked. "Wh-what do you mean?" you stuttered, trying your best to force an innocent smile onto your face.
Jonathan scrunched up his face in confusion. "Oh, my bad," he muttered. "I just thought that you two were having couple problems."
"'Couple problems'?" you repeated.
Jonathan shrugged again. "Well, yeah," he grunted. "I mean, by the way Blake talks about you, I thought the two of you were dating..."
"The way he talks about me?" you repeated again, feeling yourself go pale at the words you heard.
Never in your life would you have ever expected Blake to talk about you in any sort of positive manner. You always tried to avoid him like the plague, hence you'd preferred if he didn't know that you existed. But if he were to talk about you, you half-expected him to curse your name and call you the scum of the earth given how badly he's beaten people up all around you.
Thinking about it, there were several of Blake's victims you knew personally:
Kyle, the bully who's stolen your lunch money back in the sixth grade. He'd gotten his face beaten to a pulp, causing his nose to be a little crooked now.
Tristan, the guy who'd called you ugly on picture day. Blake had based his face so hard that his front teeth had been knocked up, totally ruining his picture.
Cesar, the douche who'd smashed your science project to smithereens for a YouTube prank. Well, Blake had filmed himself stomping him in the nuts, posting it to Cesar's now defunct account.
Wait...
"Wh-what has Blake said... about me?" you asked, feeling your heart fall to the floor as you thought everything over. It all had to be a coincidence, right?
The waitress delivered your food, distracting the jock for a second as he began to eat his fries. "Oh, um, he says lots of things about you," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.
That didn't really help.
"Like what?" you pressed.
The jock took a loud gulp of his soda. "Well, he says that he--"
He was cut off by the loud slamming of the front door. The both of you were altered to the booming noise, making you both flinch as you turned to see none other than Blake enter the tiny diner.
The bully's eyes scanned the area before landing on you, narrowing in your direction.
Uh-oh...
To be continued...
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
I'm sorry about the lack of tagging people! I'm forever and always appreciative of everyone's interest in this story. Unfortunately, I just can't tag everyone at the moment. I apologize and hope you all understand!
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stxrvel · 2 months
Text
the house (2)
hi guys! i felt so inspired that i was able to write part 2 soon and that's a very rare thing for me. thank you so much for all your comments and notes! they made me very happy. see you in the next one!
summary: Azriel wasn't gonna give in so easily with Rhysand, but he had to do everything he could to ensure his mate's well-being pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +3.5k warnings: bad words and fights and angst and a lot of anger. also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!
part 1: the cliff
part 3: the court
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“... what the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Az, I had no idea-”
“What does that fucking power works for if you're not gonna use it right?”
Cassian stood back from the commotion, with Nesta and Mor on either side of him watching from head to head as words crossed. Azriel was raising his voice and snarling at his own High Lord, and Cassian was almost surprised to see the way Rhys only dropped his shoulders, looking at his brother with sunken eyes as he claimed him. He had no intention of defending himself, Cassian could almost feel how embarrassed and remorseful Rhys was from a distance.
Azriel had a right to be angry, everyone knew that. And no one would stand in the way (unless the situation turned violent) because they understood the lengths you could go to just to safeguard your mate's well-being. Rhys would do it for Feyre. Cassian would do it for Nesta. Cassian always believed that this was how he would see Azriel defend his mate, right when he found her, and he was grateful that Rhys understood that his cries came from beyond rage and anger. There was anguish there, pain, guilt… Cassian had never seen Azriel so upset.
Returning to the Town House was torturous. Azriel wouldn't leave his mate's side and wouldn't allow any of his brothers to get close either, but she wasn't willing to go to a place she didn't know at all either, even if her mate accompanied her. Cassian had to watch his friend be more cautious and careful than ever with someone he never thought he had to be: with himself and Rhys. The sight was bleak as Azriel's shadows swirled around him and his mate, almost as if erecting a wall between the four of them. The looks Azriel sent them were like daggers and just by sharing a glance they knew that this was something the Shadowsinger wasn't going to overcome out of thin air, even if hundreds of years of friendship gave him the confidence to do so.
Azriel had to make a promise with her to convince her to leave, because he wasn't willing to let her disappear from his sight and she wasn't willing to just go with them for the sake of it, when one of the men in front of her was the one who pushed her off the cliff.
Cassian noticed several times Azriel watching the tattoo with crystallized eyes. Beyond everything, the hostile and distrustful context of the whole situation caused him pain.
Arriving at the Town House, they were all assembled. Without wondering too much without Rhys having spoken to Feyre (which he surely had), Cassian ran into the kitchen where Nesta was with her sisters and enveloped his mate in a tight embrace. Within seconds he heard movement around him and knew Rhys had done the same. Neither of them would ever be able to forgive each other for what had happened, if Azriel ever forgave them first.
“Az, I'm truly sorry,” Rhys stood behind his desk, the only thing that allowed him distance from a heated Azriel, besides Feyre's presence which the Shadowsinger respected even within his rage. “I was careless with the inmates. And you're right, it was easier for me to have simply looked inside her head. It had been a long time coming and I think I became confident of the reality of the situation, that whenever I saw inside them I knew what they were. I didn't give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry, brother.”
“Your apologies are worthless,” Azriel spat, his face almost red from the way he was trying to contain his emotions and his hands resting on the table. Rhys lowered his head in front of him, running his hands over his face. “How are you going to fix with your words what for years broke under your nose? How can I come to look at you with respect when my mate is terrified to see you?”
Cassian felt Nesta's hands wrap around his right arm and he lowered to look at her questioningly. She had reserved her comments from the moment Cassian had told the two sisters what had happened. Feyre had escorted Rhys to his office after their effusive hug and Cassian had stayed with Nesta and Elain in the kitchen, talking. With Elain it had been a little easier, her face looked mortified and she had run after Rhys and Feyre barely understood what had happened.
Nesta… she tried not to show what she was thinking, but Cassian knew there was something that made her feel upset and insecure.
Cassian tugged at the bond, trying to get her attention and Nesta had to drag her gaze from Azriel to look at her mate. Cassian felt the air rush out of his chest when he noticed the tears under her eyes. He didn't waste a second in leading her out of the room, moving into the giant living room in complete darkness, despite it being barely noon. The maroon curtains lent a more somber look to the situation.
“What's wrong?”
Nesta closed her eyes as Cassian's hands cradled her face, letting out a pair of tears that furrowed the border with her cheeks. A ragged breath left her and Cassian felt the agony of her nervousness shake his body.
“I had already seen her,” she whispered, her eyelids tightening. Cassian frowned, but didn't interrupt her when she came up for air again. “I once accompanied Rhysand and Feyre to the camp. Feyre had told me that Rhysand had some business to take care of on the mountain. I heard… I heard her voice…”
Cassian pulled his mate closer by the shoulders, pressing her against his chest as her voice broke off.
“I heard her voice begging Rhysand to believe her,” Nesta continued, trying to still the sobs that were born in the ache in her chest. Cassian shared the sentiment, the end of the bond in his chest twisting with his mate's wailing. “She was so scared…”
Nesta wrapped her arms around Cassian's torso, sinking her face into her mate's neck. Cassian moved from side to side, trying to send warm sensations through the bond, trying to calm her down a bit.
Nesta's revelation left Cassian almost frozen. The last time Rhys had gone to the mountain had been ten years ago.
-
Azriel hadn't expected that to be the way he would meet his mate, much less would he have expected her to be terrified to be around his brothers and almost himself and, of course, much, much less had he expected to hold so much resentment against Rhysand.
His mate hadn't left the room Azriel had left her in, as far away from the others' rooms as possible. With the tattoo burning his skin, Azriel had not only promised her that she would be safe in the Town House, but she had also made him promise that her interactions with his brothers would be next to none. With the watchful eyes of his friends from centuries ago upon his back, Azriel agreed. He had to make sure to provide for his mate's physical and mental health, especially when he knew that the time she had spent with the Ilyrian soldiers had to have been traumatizing.
And of course, there was also the issue of the bond.
His mate couldn't or didn't know how to control the flow of emotions that traveled through the bond and Azriel felt it all. At the moment she was relaxed, calm inside the room away from everyone, but Azriel was losing his temper in the living room. His friends were gone, they had left him a moment alone when he had finished yelling at Rhysand, as he tried to control his emotions and those of her mate, who had surely been listening to everything and so was sending distressing sensations through the bond.
But even with all that space to himself he still felt like he couldn't breathe.
He didn't know how things were going to be from now on. The mere thought terrified him to the bone. He didn't know how he would deal with the fact that he wanted and was dying to be near his mate, to hold her, to comfort her, to support her, to protect her just a step away from him, but he couldn't, at least for now. The need consumed him and tormented him. Staying behind had never been an option, especially if it was his mate, but what could he do if that was what she wanted? He would have to get used to the pain, the emptiness he already felt in his life even though it had barely been half a day since he had found her.
Ah, Azriel didn't know how much guilt and pain he could carry until his knees failed.
He closed his eyes for a couple of minutes, laying his head back on the couch, his face settled in the direction of the ceiling. He tried to relax his muscles, stiff from the tension and stress, from the speed with which everything had happened in the last few hours. Maybe then he could get some sleep. He didn't know how it would be now that he had found his mate.
Azriel was beginning to feel his body going numb, the inattention to his senses and the lightness of his limbs, when a pair of light footsteps entered the room. They would've gone unnoticed by anyone, but not him. He lifted his head attending to the sound, finding you on your feet, frozen, all around the entrance to the living room, hands clasped together twitching in nervousness.
Azriel didn't know what to do. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. But he also felt the fear and nervousness coursing through the bond from the other end. He tried to send calm through his end, hoping that and the shadows crowding at her feet, which hadn't left her since they found her, would allow her to relax a bit.
“I'm sorry… for interrupting,” you looked down and Azriel had to stifle the urge that went through his body to get up and go running to your side. His head filled with the memories of his dream, cruelly comparing the happiness that was in them and the sadness that now engulfed you. Your voice was barely a whisper.
“It's okay,” Azriel stood up carefully and quietly, catching your attention. From the way you brought your hands to your chest, still clasped together, Azriel made no attempt to move closer.
“I need to ask you something,” you fought with the words until you finally told him and a current of panic ran through the bond, so strong that Azriel had to hold back the grimace on his face.
“Whatever you need.”
You looked at him again and Azriel felt something in his chest blossom. He sent that feeling through the bond, hoping it would counteract the anxiety on your end, but only received a frown in response.
“I need to contact my parents,” you asked, shifting your feet a little closer and Azriel quickly caught the pleading expression you were trying poorly to hide.
“Sure. Where are they? I can take them a letter, if you want,” Azriel offered, but your reply wasn't welcome as a spasm of pain ran through his chest.
“No… I-I-I don't want that,” you shook your head, lowering your head. The way you moved your intertwined fingers made him question how much courage you'd had to muster to come out of your room and ask him that. You must've wanted it badly. Surely it was all you could think about for all the years you were on the mountain. Azriel moved his hand from side to side across his chest, through the fabrics of his clothing.
“We'll do what you want, then. Tell me where they are.”
“Adriata,” you whispered, eyes glittering.
Azriel choked. Of course, former prisoner of the Summer Court. How would he get across the border if he had a blood ruby in his desk drawer? Rhysand and he were still mortal enemies of the Summer Court.
“And how do you want to contact them?”
“I want to go back.”
“What?” he coughed, his body tensing and the calm evaporating from his body in a second. Surprise narrowly prevented him from noticing your crystallized eyes.
“Azriel,” you implored, taking long strides towards him, frozen in place, electricity coursing through his veins from the way you said his name. “I don't even know how long it's been since I last saw them. Please, please. That was all I've ever wanted since I was captured. I just want to see them and let them know I'm okay. Please.”
Azriel stood there on his feet in front of you, barely acknowledging the fact that you had moved so close to him that from just raising a hand he could run down your cheeks. Your request had torn at his chest and he was sure he hadn't been able to keep some of that emotion from traveling through the bond, because now you looked more disgruntled and nervous than before. Now you wanted to… leave? And you were asking him to let you do it, as if he had any right to keep you here, as if you owed him anything?
The Shadowsinger clasped his hands at his sides, trying to contain his emotions behind the line, trying to keep them from affecting you too much. He had never felt such pain, not even something he could imagine, nothing that had ever hurt him before could compare to the pain of that moment. He hadn't had a moment with her and he had to let her go already.
“You want to go back… to Summer Court,” Azriel murmured, trying to confirm the obvious, as if you repeating it made it more real, as if he needed it to be sure.
“Yes,” you shook your head in assent and Azriel's heart crinkled as he noticed your desperation. Of course that would be the first thing you would want to do, how could he have been so selfish as to not even consider it before? How could he not have suggested it from before?
“You… I don't… I mean-”
“Azriel,” you took another step, hesitant, he could tell by your body language, but trying to keep the assurance on your face. “I need to see them. Please.”
“All right. Just… wait,” Azriel moved to the side, trying to clear his mind and think rationally even though your closeness was suffocating him. “There's something you should know.”
“I know the Night Court and the Summer Court aren't on good terms,” you shook your head, as if to tell Azriel that it was a silly problem that should have no bearing on your return.
“Yes, but that's not all,” moving his hands away from his already sufficiently tousled hair, Azriel looked at you in anguish. “If you go back to Summer Court now, I don't think you'll be able to come back again.”
You frowned at him, tilting your head in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Rhysand has held the Summer spies captive for…. many, many years. Tarquin has tried to negotiate their release, but Rhysand is not open to negotiating with him, or even seeing him again,” Azriel tried to explain, not overlooking the way you flinched when he mentioned the high lord's name. “If you leave now… If your parents declared you missing… Tarquin's not going to let you go out again. And they won't let me in either because the moment they see me they'll try to kill me.”
The silence that followed his words was agonizing. Azriel was terribly frightened. It didn't calm him to know that the doubt in your eyes was minimal; the desire to see your parents again was greater than the possibility of never seeing your mate again. The mere thought made him shudder, but if that was the case, there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing.
“Why… why wouldn't my High Lord let me come back?”
“Fifteen years ago the high lord forbade his people to return to the Night Court. Fifteen years ago no person from the Summer Court has gone beyond the mountains of Day.”
“Fifteen years?” you stammered, an expression of incredulous surprise taking over your face. “I'd been there for more than fifteen years?”
Azriel halted his movements, barely noticing how you succumbed to gravity and plopped down on the couch where he had been a couple of minutes earlier in complete stupefaction.
“Y/N, I'm really sorry-”
“I can't stay here,” you looked at him again, shaking your head in refusal and sending a current of panic through the bond. “I don't want to. I need… I need to see my parents. I want to be with them.”
Azriel shuddered at the desperation he saw in your eyes. He wasn't going to deny you that, ever. But he couldn't deny that he wanted to show resistance because, if you left right then, when would he ever see you again? They wouldn't even have time to talk about the elephant in the room, but, at the same time, it didn't seem like the most important conversation at the moment.
Azriel wanted to cry.
“It's okay. Don't worry. Of course you'll go see them,” he finally spoke, facing the reality he would have to live in from now on.
“Thank you,” you cried and Azriel felt each tear pierce his heart, even though the feeling of relief reached all the way to his chest, your relief, mixed with his hopelessness. “But, you… you won't be able to go.”
“No.”
“We won't be able to see each other.”
“No,” Azriel exhaled sharply and shook his head slightly. “But I'll work it out. Somehow.”
“You can't go near there. Tarquin would hurt you!”
Azriel felt the worry reach from the other end of the bond to his chest and was a little glad to know that you at least cared about him the same way he cared about you.
“I'll make an agreement. Whatever I have to do, I'll do it. I promise.”
You nodded in his direction, convinced of his words, convinced of his shaky assurance and confidence.
“And you… will you accompany me?”
You frowned when he shook his head, but quickly added, thinking he'd be mad and damned if he'd let you spend the return trip all alone after all you'd been through, “I know a faster way to travel.”
“Okay,” you nodded, calm finally ruling in your body. “So when do we leave?”
-
Everyone in the house had gathered to receive Azriel's announcement and things were breaking down just as he expected.
No one had said anything for several minutes after the Shadowsinger announced that he would be going to the Summer Court with you, to return you to where you belonged, to your true home.
“I'll do it,” Mor was the first to speak, to Azriel's right, watching him confidently. She turned to look at Rhysand, who hadn't looked up since his brother finished speaking, deep in thought with a hand on his chin. “I'll request a meeting with him.”
Cassian stirred at Azriel's left side, sweeping his gaze over everyone present. He could almost imagine what was going through his friend's head, helpless at not being able to join him, just as it must've been going through Rhysand's mind. Azriel knew the only reason his High Lord was still thinking was that. If it was risky for the Shadowsinger to go, it would be worse if it was both of them.
“I can go too,” Feyre spoke to Rhysand's right and the aforementioned raised his head in a second, beginning to shake his head in denial.
“For no reason should you ever step near that Court again,” Rhysand stood up, resting his hands on the desk and leaning towards his mate. His face contracted, contrasting with Feyre's warm gaze.
“Rhys, don't you think it's time to get this over with?” Feyre reached up to cradle his mate's face, Rhysand leaning in almost on instinct, betrayed by his senses.
“You want me to overlook so easily what he did to you?” the High Lord frowned, closing his eyes under Feyre's gentle touch.
“Not easily, Rhys. It's been fifty years.”
“You know fifty years is nothing to us,” Rhysand snorted, straightening his back.
The Shadowsinger clicked his tongue.
“It was too much for Y/N.”
No one in the room had to look twice to know that Azriel was tense, hands clasped behind his back. Rhysand turned to see him, his wary look of apology over his friend's stony expression.
“You know I didn't come here to ask your permission, Rhysand,” Azriel almost spat, dragging the words out between his teeth.
Mor shuddered beside him, following Cassian's gaze. In so many centuries, there had obviously been trouble between the Inner Circle for some time, but in this moment it felt different, deeper and more painful. The anger and rancor in Azriel's gaze was unmatched and to earn that facet of the Shadowsinger you really had to be a son of a bitch. Mor hoped she was wrong.
“It could be dangerous for you,” Rhysand warned and Azriel had to stifle a wry chuckle. The way his High Lord's features contorted gave him to understand that he had understood the twitch in his muscles all too well.
“I don't care what you think,” Azriel bellowed, clasping his hands at his sides. “I'll go with her, and since Mor offered I'd greatly appreciate it if she'd accompany us.”
Rhysand didn't respond, settling for sharing a glance with his brother, trying to reach a part of him that was minimally willing to forgive him. Azriel sensed his intrusion and angrily erected a wall of obsidian in his mind, miles away, forcibly pulling Rhysand out of his head. The aforementioned barely staggered to his feet.
“Fine, but I'd like to be kept informed of everything that happens,” Rhysand nodded looking at Mor, who barely returned the gesture and left the office to manage the meeting as soon as possible.
When the doors rattled and the room fell silent again, Rhysand looked at Azriel pleadingly.
“Az-”
“If that's all.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, Azriel turned on his heels and stormed off. Cassian followed close behind, barely sending a glance at his high lord, his brother, saying with his gaze how sorry he was that it had all happened and ended like this.
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sunny44 · 9 months
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Ruin it
Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader
Warnings: SMUT, cuss words, cheating and probably other things.
Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.
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Max Verstappen.
We certainly had our moments.
Max and I used to race in go-karts together with Charles, Pierre, Alex and a few other drivers from the current grid and he hated the fact that I always beat him.
Which means he hated me too.
Over the years our fights became teasing and a huge sexual tension that we both realized but pretended we didn't since Max was with Kelly and for obvious reasons she didn't like me either.
Over time I realized that karting was just a hobby that I enjoyed so I didn't invest in a racing career and went into journalism becoming a formula 1 reporter.
We were in Vegas for the first Grand Prix in the city and I was very excited, especially as today it could be decided between Max and Charles who would be the world champion.
The cars were lined up in their positions and when the red lights went out the chaos started, at the first lap we lost George, Magnussen, Piastri and Ocon.
On lap 34 Charles takes Max's position taking first place and me as a reporter who can't have favorites follow me too much not to celebrate in front of everyone.
Charles was my friend and I really wanted him to win but I think I wanted Max to lose much more.
But unfortunately in the end Max passed Charles and became 3 times world champion.
The podium was fast, the champagne looked great and now I was here doing the interviews with the drivers and finally my arch enemy appears.
"Well Max we can say it was a great day for you today."
"Absolutely, we were flying."
"How does it feel to have become Formula 1 world champion for the third time?"
"I'm very happy, this result means that all the hard work team and I have put in over the year has not been in vain and now I'm looking forward to having a drink and celebrating."
"That's great, hope you have an amazing night and we see you next year." He smiles and waves leaving."Well guys that was 3 time world champion Max Verstappen, I'm
Y/n y/l/n and we end our 2023 season, see you next year."
They turn off the camera and I thank the whole team and pick up my things leaving when someone calls out to me.
"I could almost see the look of disgust on your face, lucky it's only me."
"Don't you have a party to go to?" I ask turning around and seeing Max.
"We do and it's at the Plaza, your name is on the list in case you want to go."
"And why would I go?"
"To celebrate that I won."
"I wasn't rooting for you to win."
"I know, and you have no idea how much that motivated me to win." He says stepping close to me. "I'm counting on you being there."
"Your girlfriend doesn't mind you being here trying to convince me to come to your little party?"
"She's not the boss of me and she didn't come to the race."
"Got it, I hope you have a bad night." I say walking out and just hear him yell one back.
...
I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling with a lot of boredom thinking about the party Max had invited me to. Obviously I didn't want to go somewhere where he was but staying here in the room alone while I could be there drinking and having fun was also not an option.
So I got ready and asked for an Uber to the place where the party was going to be, I gave my name at the entrance and they said I was in the VIP area which I wouldn't go because obviously there would be few people and Max would be one of them.
I went to the bar to get something to drink and I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around to see who it was I saw only his chest and I looked up and Max was there with those damn blue eyes that I could spend the day looking at.
"I thought you said you weren't coming."
"Yeah but I was lying naked in my hotel bed with nothing to do so I thought a free drink wouldn't be a bad idea."
"I have lots of ideas of what you could have done naked in your hotel bed." He says coming closer.
"And are you in any of them?"
"Maybe."
"Then put it out of your mind because as far as I know you're committed to miss I’m dating an f1 champion."
"Imagining is not cheating as far as I know."
"If you say so." I downed my drink and looked at him. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go dance and maybe find someone to take me back to my hotel room."
The party was great and I was sweaty from dancing, I went to get a drink of water and saw Daniel coming towards me.
"Can I ask you a favor?" He says taking a deep breath after seemingly circling the whole party looking for me.
"Sure."
"Can you take Max back to the hotel? I already tried but he said he won't leave unless he goes with you."
"Fucking hell." I say following him and see Max drunkenly calling my name.
"There you are." He gets up and almost goes but I hold him back. "Where have you been all party?"
"Having fun far away from you."
"Ouch." He runs his hand over my face, taking away the hair that was there. "Wow, you're so beautiful."
"Thanks, let's go."
After a lot of effort we managed to get to the hotel, I couldn't find his room keys and Max muttered something about them being with Daniel so I took his hand and we walked to my room, he was already much better since the city traffic was crazy and took us an hour to get here, he was still a little altered but he knew what he was doing.
"Are you going to let me sleep in your room?"
"Well I'm not going to go chasing someone to get another key to your room and I'm not going to let you leave like that either so it looks like we don't have any other option."
That said I go to get my pajamas but when I went to pass he put his hands around my waist and put his face close to mine.
"You're beautiful you know that right?"
"You already said that, like a while ago."
"I know but I wanted to say it again." I hated it when he looked me straight in the eye because I couldn't look away from those damn blue eyes.
"I hate it when you stare at me."
"Why?"
"Because I hate that I can't stop looking into your eyes."
"Good, because I don't want you to stop looking at them." He comes even closer. "Do you even know how hard I'm trying not to ruin my relationship right now?"
"Ruin it." I say without even thinking.
"What?" he asks shocked.
"I said ruin it."
Max and I start kissing and at the same time his tongue enters my mouth, it was a wild kiss that I could not separate even if I wanted to.
We walk without separating the kiss to the bed where he lays me down and gets on top of me.
One of his hands was on my face and my hands pass through his back going to the hem of his shirt trying to take it off.
He understands my gesture and takes off his shirt and he stops for a few seconds and just stares at me before taking off my blouse and starts kissing down to my neck and my breast.
I lift my back from the bed for him to open my bra and Max wastes no time in starting to suck my breast making me squirm on the bed.
He goes down the kisses to my belly and with his hands squeezes my breasts, he kisses my pussy still covered with the thin lace of my black pantries and soon removes all my clothes leaving me completely naked.
He kisses my thighs and starts massaging my clit with his fingertips making me moan and soon I feel his tongue on my pussy making quick movements.
He stared at me and the exchange of glances was what was making the environment even hotter than it already was.
I raise my hips giving him access to all my pussy and he holds my hips and leaves a strong grip on my ass, then he sticks two fingers inside my pussy without cutting the movement of his mouth.
"Fuck." I grumble trying to hold back my moans. "Keep doing it like that, that's how I want it."
He adds a third finger and I can't control any more moans, they are getting louder and louder.
I feel my legs starting to shake, signaling that I'm going to come at any moment.
I warn him and he intensifies his movements until I reach my limit.
He swallows my cum and continues in my pussy until he starts kissing my whole body, leaving some hickeys on my breast and going to my neck and reaching my ear.
"I knew one day I would make you scream my name in the middle of the night." he bites my lobe and kisses my mouth again.
I take off the bottom of his clothes, also leaving him naked, and switch our positions getting on top of him.
I sit on his lap and start to make a delicious friction in our intimacies hearing a muffled moan from the blond and his cock getting more and more bigger.
He holds my neck tight and makes me lie completely on top of him while he attacks my lips.
I stop the kiss and make a trail of kisses down his neck leaving some hickeys on the way until I reach his cock and kiss the tip.
When I was about to start sucking his cock, Max holds my hair tightly and starts making the movements himself making me choke a few times, his moans were getting louder and louder when he increases the movements and cums in my mouth.
I don't usually swallow, but this time I did it without thinking twice.
"How about you sitting on my face?" I walk over to him and sit on his face.
I hold onto the headboard, making back and forth movements while he sucks me and holds my breasts tight while I go up and down doing all the work while his tongue remains still.
He stops sucking me and I sit back on his lap as he looks at me, seeming to have an idea.
"I want to fuck you in a different way." he says in his sexy voice. "Face the window, I want everyone to see that you're mine tonight."
I do as he asks thanking that my room is on the second to last floor because they would never be able to see that it's the two of us.
"Good girl, now I'm going to fuck you, but you choose." He grabs my neck. "Do you want it tender or do you want a fuck with all the positions we can handle?"
"Fuck me hard, make me yours." I try to turn towards him but he won't let me.
"Your wish is my command schatz." he begins to fit his cock in my intimacy.
At that time I didn't care about anything, I didn't care that it was him, I didn't care that we were having sex let alone that he had a girlfriend that he was cheating on right now.
Soon he begins to give strong strokes in and out of me holding my neck with one hand as he squeezes my breast with de other.
He gets out of me and turns me over, putting my back against the window and grabbing my legs with his arms and fitting his member into me again in a strong and aggressive way.
The thrusts continue stronger and stronger and the only noises we hear in the room is our bodies colliding and heavy breathing.
We try to hold back our moans but every exit and entry inside me makes me want to scream his name.
I pull him into a kiss and he bites my bottom lip and still kissing me, Max leads me to the bed leaving my back against the mattress and him on top of me fucking me like it's the last thing he would do.
The last thing we would ever do.
Due to lack of air we stop the kiss and my hands go to his back leaving several scratches, I see him staring at me while I call his name.
I announce my apex to him who is also reaching his.
When I reach my limit and he continues inside me going faster and faster making me scream for him until he comes.
He gets out of me and I change position to doggy and he leaves a slap on my ass, entering me again and going slowly to torture me, until he increases the speed.
He squeezes my breasts and massages my nipple.
He pulls out of me and lies down pulling me to sit on his lap.
I fit his member inside me and start to ride slowly while he squeezes my waist and I start to move up and down when taking his member out of me, until we cum again and I fall tired on his chest.
He leaves a kiss on my forehead and keeps messing with my hair without changing position.
After a while of caresses between the two of us, we left and went straight to the bathroom, he discarded the condom while I went into the shower but he came after, I was on my back to him when he takes my wet hair off my neck and starts kissing him all over and turns me to him starting to kiss my mouth leaning me against the wall while the hot water falls on both of us.
He goes down and leaves a hickey in the middle of my breasts and goes down the kisses and penetrates me with three fingers, I put my hand on my mouth to contain the moans while he fucks me once again.
Soon he leaves a kiss on my pussy and goes back up making a trail of kisses through my body and he lifts my left leg and fucks me mercilessly.
With each thrust he says how beautiful I am and what a wonderful woman I was.
He bites my ear and my nipple in a pleasurable way, while his hands are on my ass.
He squeezes and moans softly in my ear, until together we reach our limit.
We shower together while he washes my hair and I do the same with him.
Leaving the shower, Max put on his underwear and I took his blouse and my panties and put them on too.
When we lay down he pulled me on top of him and soon he was asleep but I kept thinking about how we would react tomorrow morning after we recounted the conscience of our deeds, but honestly I wasn't going to lose my sleep thinking about it now, it was already done and I decided that tomorrow I would worry about it.
This is probably going to have more parts so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ones.
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naturesqueen23 · 3 months
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A Second Chance PT 6
Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.
Tags for this chapter: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, Fluff??, Vulgar language, Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader, Mentions of domestic violence 9.5k words (I probably rewritten this chapter about twice😭 The plot continues to thicken though🫣
Enjoy loves<333)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
You stare at him with wide eyes as he slowly backs away from you. His hand is still cradling the side of your face. You stare at his lips which have a hint of shininess to them, clearly evident from the kiss the two of you just shared.
…….
It finally dawns on you. You just kissed your neighbor and you enjoyed every second of it even if it wasn't under the best circumstances. Jesus, you were just having the hots for Spiderman and now you're kissing your neighbor? Okay well, not exactly the hots you were just pretending to take off your clothes for him as a joke.
“He's gone now” You expected him to wipe off his lips but instead he licks it and stuffs his hands into his pockets while looking around. You nod your head and begin to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie. Your ex-husband was here and you were this close to getting stuck in his web again. It took you forever to find a place where you think he wouldn't find you and now look. If it wasn't for your neighbor—O’Hara you would've been back “home” and you're positive he wouldn't let you out of his sight again.
Suddenly going to yoga doesn't sound too appealing right now. You feel your eyes fill with tears as you feel her moving. Is it bad to say that you don't want her to meet her own father?
“He's gone now there's no need to worry” You look at him confused now that you think about it how in the world did he know that that was your ex-husband?
“Let's go you're going to be late” You follow him absentmindedly as he has a hand on your lower back guiding you to the parking lot. You press your car keys to locate your car and he leads you there. You go to get in the driver's seat when you feel his hand on your forearm. “Are you okay to drive?”
You shrug your shoulders. “Well, I don't have anyone else are you going to the same gym as me?” He nods. “Do you mind driving?” He shakes his head. “Get in the passenger seat” You walk around the other side getting in the car and putting on your seatbelt.
You give him the directions for the gym and for the first 10 minutes you guys sit in silence. You have to say something right? You guys literally just kissed…well that felt more than a kiss but it feels weird to call it anything else so a kiss it is. But honestly, your head can't wrap around the fact that he knew. It makes no sense the only person you told about your ex-husband was Spiderman. Just how much do they talk about you?
“I get that you and Spiderman are friends but it does make me feel a little weird that you guys talk so much about my personal life. How did you know about my…ex-husband?”
It takes him a minute to respond. It's like he's contemplating what he should say. “Spiderman didn't tell me anything your husband-”
“Ex-husband we're not together”
“Right…well he came and said he was looking for someone who's pregnant, his wife to be exact. I assumed it was you cause you're the only pregnant woman I've seen here”
You slowly nod as you process this information. “Please tell me you didn't tell him where I live I don't-”
“No, I didn't tell him anything I told him that there's no one who's pregnant that lives here” You let out a breath of relief and you played with the ends of his hoodie. “You didn't tell him what floor I live on if you ever saw me or-” He cuts you off.
“No, I said nothing you have my word. I figured if you're not living with him then you clearly don't want him knowing where you are. You’re his wife and you're carrying his child. Anyone would expect you to be with your husband but you're not so the evidence is clear” You mumble a thank you to him as you stare out the window.
“We're really not together, I just can't get a divorce. He agreed that he'll let me leave but we have to remain married”
“What made you want to leave him to the point where you would consider having this baby alone?” It seems like you're still not ready to have this conversation. But c'mon who in their right mind would be okay with telling someone that their partner used to hit them? It's embarrassing like really embarrassing and you really don't want to hear “Well why didn't you leave him?” Because they would never know how much you tried to.
You tried the first time and even though it was years ago that memory is still etched in your brain still fresh where it feels like it happened yesterday. You would never forget the horror you felt after the first blow across your face, you would never forget the fear in his eyes when his hand connected to your cheek and you would never forget the time when there was no longer fear in his eyes. There was simply nothing there. You've tried the second, third, and fourth time, and finally when the fifth time rolled around you knew that no matter what he would find you and you would never get out of this cycle. So you gave up since that felt like the easiest thing to do.
You tap your cheek when you feel droplets of water on your chest. When did you start crying? You dab your face with the ends of his sweater trying not to smear your makeup. You groan when you notice it staining his sweater. “Sorry I'll wash this whenever I get the chance”
“You didn't answer my question”
You sigh he isn't going to let this go, is he? “Nothing much he was just controlling and-”
“You thought I was going to hit you all those months ago just by me raising my hand so it's not just “Nothing much” and you know that”
“So then why are you asking if you know the answer already?” You fold your hands across your chest as you stare at him. What's his problem?
“Forget it” For the rest of the ride you both sit there in silence as you occasionally steal glances at him. You don't know how you didn't realize it from before but holy shit he's practically naked right now. Okay, you're over exaggerating he's not naked per se but he might as well be. He's wearing a thin wife beater leaving his huge arms on display. You always knew he was ripped from the first time you laid eyes on him but damn seeing him with so little on is putting things into a different perspective…he looks good.
…….
You sigh as you move on to counting the trees the fact that you are able to switch your thoughts up so drastically is rather concerning. You steal one more glance at him and you take note of his hair; it's brown and full. He clearly takes care of it. You take note of his sharp features, thick eyebrows, and high cheekbones. Your eyes land on his lips. They look exactly how they feel. Plump, inviting, and soft. Kissing someone with small lips isn't always the best and you should know you've been doing it for 9 years. My goodness, what is wrong with you? You should not be thinking of your neigh—Mr.O’Hara like this. You share one kiss with him and now you're realizing that he’s fine?
You stare at him a little longer playing with the strings of his hoodie again. Watching as his arms subtly flex as he drives with one hand. His right hand is on the wheel while his left elbow is resting on the open window with his head propped up on his fist.
“You’re staring” Your eyes go wide at his words. Dammit, he caught you. Oh well, it's time to lie your way out of this.
“I wasn't, I was just staring out the window” He glanced at you and somehow you could immediately tell that he knew you were lying. When he stares at you longer than you like you pull on the strings of his sweater in order to hide your face. Maybe you just have a thing for embarrassing yourself in front of men.
Finally pulling into the gym's parking lot you wait until he fully parks the car before unbuckling your seat belt to gather your stuff. You mumble a thank you as he opens the door for you. Resting a hand on the side of the door so you can get out comfortably you feel your balance beginning to waver and you immediately reach out grabbing onto his shoulders and his hands go to your waist.
You stare up at him and it feels like the distance between the two of you is getting smaller and smaller by the second. Your eyes dart to his lips and when you look back up he's staring at yours. Uhhh what's going on? You decide to do the smart thing of starting a conversation with him.
“You kissed me earlier” Immediately his eyes met yours. Jeez, what a great conversation starter.
“I did” You watch as his eyes dart down to your lips again, the hands on your waist slowly withdraw and he takes a small step back. As he stuffs one hand in his pocket you remove your hands from his shoulders and he leans forward to close your door. He hands you your car keys as he fixes the strap of his bag looking everywhere but at you.
You fix the strap of your own bag as you pull the hood of his sweater down off your head. “I enjoyed it if you were wondering”
……
……….
You hope when you die scientists will take your brain and use it as a prime example of someone who has gone mentally insane. Why in the world would you say that? You're going to have to have a serious talk with your doctor about the effects that pregnancy hormones are having on your brain.
He tilts his head as he narrows his eyes at you before heading in the direction of the gym. “I wasn't wondering…..but we're humans of course we enjoyed a kiss it'll be unusual if we didn't”
You follow him as he leads you to the lobby doors. “We?” You glance at him as he holds open the door. He says nothing as he shrugs his shoulders. Okay, so he definitely enjoyed the kiss as well. Well essentially there's really nothing that you can do with that information but it's nice to know…?
You walk into the gym and you check the time and dammit it's 6:10 you're late. You begin to look around in search of the room paying close attention to any signs that can lead you to the Prenatal yoga class.
“What are you looking for?”
“I'm here for a class that someone from work told me about. You won't know her but she's pregnant as well. Her name's Jess” You look up from your phone after reading the directions that Jess sent you but you still can't find it. You look at the time on your phone and it's now 6:15. You begin to walk around trying to find it before you're even more late but the longer you stand there the more you realize you have no idea where you are.
You begin to grow hot so you unzip his sweater as you continuously search for the class. My god can’t you do anything right? Your day was going fine until you came home and now everything is a wreck. Maybe you really should've stayed home. You feel your hands begin to sweat as you grow nervous with each passing second. Turning around in frustration you basically force your phone into O'Hara's hands. You can feel your face heating up and your eyes well up with tears. Here we go all over again.
•°~°•
“What are you-” Miguel stares at you as you angrily hand him your phone slowly realizing that you're crying…..Dammit again?
“I can't find the class a-anywhere like why is this gym so freaking big. Can you find it for me I'm already late by 15 minutes so please. All I wanted to do was relax a little bit after work and now look where that got me” He stares at you as tears rapidly fall down your face. He doesn't know what to do whenever you start crying. He always feels like a deer lost in the headlights. He doesn't like comforting people or rather he doesn't know how. And it's even worse because you're pregnant.
He can't tell you to stop crying because it's only going to make things worse. He begins to look around for the class eager to stop you from crying. People are starting to look at the two of you and it's no doubt that they think he made you cry. Once he sees a small sign on the wall near the bottom of the steps he immediately points at it to let you know.
“Hey hey look it's right there” He uses his index finger to point to the sign and he places a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.
You begin to walk in that direction. “How come I didn't even see it?” You wipe your eyes with the back of your palm, you’re positive your makeup is ruined so it doesn't matter anymore.
Miguel guides you to the sign with a hand hovering over your lower back. When finally reaching the class a lady who is also pregnant greets you with a warm smile.
“Sorry I know I'm late but can I still join in?” The lady nods her head yes as she gives you a hug. “You're fine we had to find a new instructor since the one that we had went into labor so we are actually just getting started” You let out a breath of relief as you rest your hands on your stomach.
“That's really great I started crying because I was running late and then I couldn't find the directions to the class oh my gosh you have no idea” Miguel watches as you give the lady a smile before her eyes land on his.
“And it's so good to see you too. We are always happy when the dads join us. Partner yoga is proven to strengthen the relationship”
“Oh, he's not…”
“We're not together”
He glances at you when realizing you spoke at the same time as him. You begin to awkwardly wave your hands in dismissal stepping away from him thinking that the lady will get the hint but she doesn't.
“It's okay if it's complicated, all that matters is you being here” Miguel doesn't even have time to resist as the lady pushes you both inside the classroom. Just great. He looks at you to tell you something but you immediately ignore him walking straight ahead.
“Oh Jess your here!” He feels his blood run cold as he watches you walk up to Jess and give her a hug. This is definitely what he needed. He watches as you and Jess embrace each other and he watches as Jess gives him a glare over her shoulder. Shit, she better not say anything. He watches as you wave him over to most likely introduce him to your friend.
You place a gentle hand on his forearm as you introduce them to each other. “O’Hara this is my new friend from work Jessica and Jessica this is my neighbor Mr.O’Hara”
“Mr.O’Hara…seriously” His eyes lock on Jess sending her a warning glare he subtly shakes his head no as your eyes dart between the two of them. If Jess somehow ends up letting you know about who he really is he doesn't know what he would do. He knows he has to let you know one way or another but honestly, that is an obstacle for another day.
“Do you guys know each other orrr…” Your voice trails off as you study the staring contest that's happening between the two of them.
He turns to face you not wanting to let the moment linger. “No, we don't, where do you want to sit?”
You lean in, lowering your voice as you speak to him. “Oh, crap I forgot I'm sorry you don't have to stay I don't know why she thought we were together it's so obvious that we're not…” He stares at you for a second as your awkward laughter reaches his ears before nodding his head. He doesn't know why she thought that too nothing is proving that you guys are together.
He folds his hands across his chest as he observes the room full of pregnant women and presumably their partners. He'll be banned by this gym for sure if he leaves you here. “It's fine it'll be weirder if I left plus I'm sure everyone in this entire gym would probably give me dirty looks wherever I go knowing that I left my pregnant girlfriend to do this alone” The minute the word girlfriend comes out his mouth he wants facepalm himself. Girlfriend….seriously out of all the words he could've chosen his brain went straight to-
“It's okay really but if you want to stay then that's cool too I don't mind” He watches as you fiddle with the ends of his sweater and for some reason he just knows he won't be getting it back. Not that he would take it away from you anyway but still. He would feel like a douche if he did, surprisingly you’ve made yourself comfortable in his sweater and oddly enough he doesn't mind seeing you in it.
…….
Uh, what….?
Well, he's not saying he likes seeing you in his sweater, he's just saying he doesn't mind in the sense that he's not angry seeing you in it. He's just feeling neutral if that makes any sense.
You nod your head before turning around to face the front of the classroom and of course, he doesn't miss the pink stain on your cheeks.
•°~°•
You have been following along to the poses for the past 20 minutes and everything would have been so perfect if you were able to ignore O’Hara calling you his pregnant girlfriend. Even though he didn't mean it directly. But still, he could've just said his pregnant friend or something but pregnant girlfriend….
It's now coming towards the end of the session and the instructor signals for the dads to come up behind the moms. You immediately look over at O’Hara and he slowly walks over to you and you give him a small smile.
“And now I want you to place your hands right under her belly and slowly lift. This will help her relieve the weight that she's been carrying. And moms you should feel like a huge weight should be lifted literally” You watch as the instructor begins to slowly walk around the classroom checking on everyone. As you look around you realize how close the dads are standing behind the moms. There's literally no space left between them. Yeah, there's no way your neighbor isn't going to do this.
You turn back around to look at him only to find him directly behind you. “Hey O’Hara you-” You jump startled at his presence.
“Uh, so this is more suited for moms and dads, not neighbors so we don't have to do this” You stare up at him and his expression is unreadable. That's exactly what you need right now. “O’Hara-”
“The faster we do this the faster we'll get this over with”
“But-” He cuts you off immediately.
“Just relax” A beat passes as you begin to feel his body heat radiating off of him. You feel his hands slowly snake under your stomach and you feel your heart rate pick up. “If you feel uncomfortable then we can stop” You shake your head as you face forward.
“It's fine…..j-just do what you have to do” Before he can lift up your stomach the instructor walks by you guys and you give her a smile.
“Why are you so scared to get close to her? We can see that she's already pregnant. There's no need to be shy” You're too embarrassed to even correct her so the only thing that you can do is cover your hands with your face. You hear him take a deep breath from behind you as you try to steady your breathing.
You then feel him pressed up behind you with little to no space left between the two of you. Your back is pressed against his chest and your bottom is pressed right up against his uh….nether regions. The longer you stay there it dawns on you that he's wearing gray sweatpants and basically no top all thanks to yours truly. You can feel him pressing up against you…..you can feel all of him to be exact.
You try to focus on your breathing and maybe on his too but you are too nervous out of your mind right now and honestly, you're too distracted. A man's body shouldn't be distracting you so much but yet again here we are. Plus the fact that you're standing so close to him is making your mind turn foggier than it already is.
“I'm going to lift now” You let out a shaky breath as you whisper okay. Although there are probably 20 other people in this room right now it only feels like it's you and him and of course your little one. You hear him take another deep breath before you feel him cautiously lifting up your stomach as if he's scared he'll end up hurting you both. As he slowly lifts piece by piece you feel the weight that you've been carrying disappear. You close your eyes on instinct and rest your head on his shoulder letting out a sigh of relief.
“How does it feel?” He is so close you can feel his breath on the left side of your face.
“It feels amazing” You guys stay like that for a couple of seconds and then you realize just how intimate this is. There’s literally no space left between the two of you and it feels like you can feel his heart beating against your back. Is it weird to say that you don't mind this? Being so close and intimate with him your neighbor Mr.O’Hara. The last time you've been so intimate with a man felt like ions ago and you don't mean sex. You mean just being vulnerable and feeling safe and protected in a man's arms. It's a different feeling, it's a different kind of intimacy. Your ex usually whenever he came home from work or any of his week or sometimes month-long business trips he would always come back under the influence whether it be alcohol or drugs whatever it is 9 times out of 10 he was on it. Things would be even worse whenever he used to do his…. extracurricular activities. You won't allow your mind to wander too far off into those memories that you would do anything to get rid of.
Slowly and hesitantly you open your eyes and you find him already staring at you. As you stare into his eyes it really does feel like it's only you and him in this room. You guys are mere inches apart, your breaths fusing together. Just for a split second, your eyes dart down to his lips only to find him doing the same. The amount of times you stared at this man's lips today alone should be illegal and it's all because of a single kiss you guys shared. Prior to that of course you noticed how attractive he was but you didn't really care cause he was a douche.
You both are pulled out of the trance when the instructor signals for the dads to slowly lower the mom's stomach. When he's done his hands still linger underneath your bump and just as you open your mouth to say something you feel her move and he jumps back as if he's been burned.
“Hey, are you okay?” He says nothing as he looks down at your stomach and then at his hands before forcefully stuffing them in his pockets. You hear him curse under his breath as he begins to pick up his bag and haul it over his shoulders. You watch as he begins to walk out the door although the class is finally over and although he was kind of forced into doing this you didn't think he would leave so quickly. You look around to find Jess only to catch her already staring at you.
“I'll see you tomorrow Jess thank you for this” You wave at her as you grab your own bag and begin to walk out the door eager to catch up to him.
You look around for him only to find him way ahead of you. “O’Hara wait up I can't walk that fast” You stare at his back with every step that he takes and you can tell he isn't slowing down nor does he have any plans to. What's gotten into him? He sits down at a machine and drops his bags on the floor.
When you finally catch up to him he doesn't even look in your direction, his eyes are glued to the machine as he fixes it to his liking. You go to place a gentle hand on his shoulder but before you can make contact he grabs onto your wrist and pushes your hand back to your side. You are immediately getting the memo that he doesn't want you to touch him. You can respect that but he's acting like he wasn't the one cradling your stomach less than 2 minutes ago.
“Don't touch me” You look at him confusingly. “Did I do something wrong? If I did I'm sorry I wasn't trying to. Or was it the baby did she freak you out-”
He begins to put in his headphones before stopping and giving you a brief glance. “If you're done I would like to do what I came here to do which is work out”
You rest your hands on your stomach as you stare at him. “How are you getting home? I can wait for you in the car”
“Don't just go home”
You shake your head no. “I don't mind waiting for you we came here together after all”
“I'm going back to work after this so just go” You take a small step back as you stare at him beginning to lift some weights with his legs. “Thank you for today I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there for us” You stand there expecting him to give you some kind of acknowledgment of what you're saying but he doesn't it's like he's flat out ignoring you.
“Um okay….well I'll see you around” You stand there for a few more seconds waiting for him to tell you anything but he doesn't. The longer you stand here the more embarrassed you're getting. It's just best if you leave. “Let me know if you like the gift. There are cookies in there so put it in the fridge or if you don't want it just throw it in the garbage” You take a few steps back rubbing your stomach as you feel her moving again. You let out a deep sigh when you realize he's not going to answer you. God this is so embarrassing.
Finally feeling her kick you get the memo that it's time for you to leave. Turning around, you lean in to whisper to your stomach. “Come on baby let's go home” As you walk out before getting in your car you turn around looking into the gym only to find him no longer working out his head resting in his hands. Before you turn around to walk Jess walks up to him and she looks angry. You thought they didn't know each other?
•°~°•
For the next month, you managed to get into the swing of things. Monday-Fridays you go to work with the exception of Wednesdays because you have class. On Mondays and Fridays, you go to the prenatal yoga class after work with Jess. Sometimes you and Jess leave work together and sometimes you go back home. But one thing that has surprised you is that Spiderman has been dropping you home literally every single day. You don't know why he started doing that in the first place. You don't mind it, you really don't, you're just surprised he's doing it without you asking.
And with O’Hara your neighbor, you don't really see him that much. You only ever see him after coming out from work. You never see him when you're leaving to go to work in the mornings only in the afternoons. It's a little weird but maybe his schedule changed because you remember when you would see him every morning when you used to work at the bar. Although things were weird seeing him after the first yoga class he ended up apologizing for his behavior.
There are times that he even accompanies you to the yoga class. At first, you were extremely nervous going to class with him but you both decided it's best that you continue the charade that you are together. You really don't want to explain to them that you're a single new mom you get judged more than enough already.
So here you are 28 weeks pregnant at work taking an ice cream break because of your cravings. Your stomach has gotten even bigger and you honestly don't know why people(men) were calling you big when you were only 20 weeks. Now your feet are very swollen. You can't wear sneakers or any tight shoes, you can only wear flats or slippers. You're very very grateful that it's the summertime and not winter. Your baby girl kicks and moves around a lot more now even while you're trying to go to sleep. It's starting to become exhausting but you know it will all be worth it in the end. You and your doctor have measured her fetal movements and you've memorized it so you can know if it ever slows down or not.
You've gained a lot of weight, your breasts have grown quite a bit and now that you have roughly 3 months left it's becoming hard to deal with the changes in your body. Your body will forever be changed now and there's nothing that you can do about it. You'll just have to embrace it. The stretch marks along your sides are dark and you've become more sensitive to a lot of normal scents too. But you're very excited not only are you graduating in a few days but you've invited some of the spiders to your graduation. You know it's a stretch because their jobs are literally saving the world but you hope that they can come. You even invited Spider-Man and your neighbor Mr.O'Hara.
You have been able to get a lot of stuff for her nursery now and you couldn't be more excited for her to finally get here. You were able to get a crib, more clothes for her, and a few more diapers, and you started buying things for your hospital bag. There's nothing wrong with getting a head start on these kinds of things especially when you don't know what can happen.
You let out a sigh as you eat your last spoonful of ice cream. You've limited yourself to one carton a week and it's only Thursday. You place a hand on your stomach as you feel her moving again.
“How is she?” You turn your attention to the watch that Spiderman has given you. So now you can talk to Lyla as you work.
“She's fine she's a mover that's for sure you know I think she can hear you clearly now” You bring your hand closer to your stomach to bring Lyla closer. “Maybe I should introduce myself. Okay little one I'm your cool auntie Lyla I'm one of a kind and I might not be able to hold you but I'll be able to keep you company. Now be nice to your mommy, she's trying very hard to take care of you” You watch with a big smile on your face as Lyla gives your stomach a little pat even though you can't feel it the action is very heartwarming to you.
“You think she'll recognize my voice when she gets here?” You shrug your shoulders. “She should…..you know whose voice I think she recognizes though and this might be crazy but I think she recognizes Spider-Man” You watch as Lyla gives you a smirk while she wiggles her eyebrows.
“Lyla don't give me that look”
“So you've been spending a lot of time with Spider-Man huh? I told you what would happen if you started spending time with him. I don't know how you aren't as grumpy as him yet” Damn it you can already feel your face heating up so you wave your hands in dismissal. “No no, it's just that whenever he speaks sometimes she kicks and moves and she does the same thing with my neighbor I don't know maybe she just likes to hear a man's voice”
You watch us Lyla roll her eyes “Oh come on you can't really think that right? You know I see the way you look at him it looks like you have hearts in your eyes” Your eyes grow wide and you honestly consider turning off your watch now you get how Spider-Man feels whatever he gets aggravated with Lyla.
“No, I don't, he's just been helping me a lot through my pregnancy that's all” You watch her humming in response but you can tell she doesn't quite believe you. “Listen, he's been taking me to the supermarket. He's helped me carry the things for a nursery inside the house. He's even helping me build her crib and he's even gotten me a job it's kind of hard not to like him with everything that he's done”
“And what about your neighbor? I know the two of you shared a little smooch and I know you still have his sweater” You grimace as Lyla begins to make kissing noises yeah you totally regret telling her anything. “That was weeks ago and plus it never happened again but he's great too he's been coming to the yoga class with me and Jess but you already know that. Oh and I think I might ask him to help me paint the nursery but I don't know yet”
“You know what this sounds like?”
“Amuse me”
She leans in close to you near your ear. “This sounds like you got that man wrapped around your finger”
You tilt your head as you look at her. “That man….Lyla, it's two of them” She widens her eyes just a smidge before breaking out in a coughing fit. “Yeah, you're right it's two of them they're totally not the same person or anything” You stare at her confusingly. What is she talking about?
“Of course, they are not the same person oh my gosh could you imagine Spider-Man and O'Hara being the same person they are two completely different people” You roll your eyes at the thought even if they miraculously happen to be the same person he has to have suffer from split personality because you don't think that they're the same at all.
“Mmhm yeah totally”
You begin to play with the ends of your shirt. “I'm being serious, why don't you believe me? Spider-Man, well Miguel seems a little more gentle while O’Hara can be gentle as well he has a lot of moments where he's kind of mean if I'm being honest. He was a complete douche to me in the beginning but Spider-Man has been nice to me from the start” You watch as she nods absent-mindedly as she pretends to kick rocks. You stop for a second and stare at her. “Do you really not believe me, don't tell me you think they're the same person?”
“I didn't say anything you did”
You stare off at the little flowers you managed to make that you put around the room.“I mean yeah they kind of sound similar but Miguel's voice is a little deeper and yeah they are the same height but the same person no Lyla come on that's a major stretch. Plus why wouldn't he have told me anything? It's been what 5 months since I've met him…. that's not….I just don't think he would like you know keep that from me”
“Yeah you're totally right he wouldn't do that”
You sit with Lyla in silence as you resume your work when all of a sudden you hear her intake a sharp gasp. “Oh no…he's back I thought they got rid of him”
You watch as panic sets in her face. “Lyla, what are you talking about?”
“Crap come upstairs immediately Miguel would kill me if I left you down here”
You immediately get up to follow her orders and it isn't until you feel vibrations throughout the building that the panic sets in. “Lyla, what in the world is going on?” You grab your stuff and rush to the elevator.
“He's back oh my god he's back we thought he died” You hastily press the button on the elevator as you impatiently tap your feet.
The minute the doors open you are greeted with Miguel barking out orders to the spiders and everyone running around. “Lyla you're freaking me out what the heck is going on” The minute you lock eyes with Miguel he practically sprints to you grabbing onto your forearm.
You protectively begin to cradle your stomach. “Miguel please tell me you know what's going on Lylas freaking me out”
“You're going to stay exactly where I put you do, you understand me” You nod at him as he drags you to his platform. “But wait tell me-”
“We're under attack, Spinebreakers goons are back. Just when we thought he was dead his goons appeared out of nowhere we haven't had anything from him in over a year we thought he was dead” The minute you hear the name Spinebreaker you feel your blood run cold that can't be right. He—he promised he'd never do that again….
You feel your legs locked forcing yourself to stay rooted in place. Miguel gently tugs on your arm pulling you forward. “Come on we don't have enough time you'll be safe up here” You slowly allow him to place you on the platform that is until the sound of a baby crying reaches your ear and knocks you out of your trance. You turn your head and you find Peter trying to console Mayday in her carrier but with all the chaos going on it's not working at all. You open your arms out for her and she reaches for you.
“No you will not hide with her she will only create noise and draw attention to you. Her father needs to take care of her”
“Miguel I can’t fight while she’s crying she’ll have her blinky and her toy just for today please”
“Don’t piss me off Peter she's pregnant she has her own child to protect and it’s not yours” You stare at Miguel with wide eyes how could he say something like that? You take Mayday from Peter turning your attention to him. “I’ll keep her safe you have my word”
Miguel angrily turns your way reaching out to grab you but you take a step back. “You’re not indestructible don’t you get that?” You nod your head as you protectively put a hand over her head trying to soothe her amidst the chaos. “I know but what do you want me to do let her hide alone? It’s sick that you would even-”
“That's not what I meant and you know that” You stare at Mayday as you rock her back and forth to get her to stop crying walking you both further onto the platform. You hear presumably Miguel letting out an angry breath, nothing he can say or do will let you leave her behind. You feel a hand on your shoulder right as you feel the building beginning to shake again. Turning around to face him you watch as he barks orders at Lyla before turning his attention to you. He presses a button and the platform starts lifting.
“This will take you straight up to my office stay in there. It locks from the inside and whatever you do don't come out. The door can only be opened and closed with my handprint. They're infiltrating the building so this may take a while” You nod your head as your eyes begin to fill with tears. “You hear that Mayday Spidey has a safe space for us to stay” You continue to rock her back and forth as her cries die down. You have to wipe your eyes so your tears won't fall on her face.
“This is a bad idea you shouldn't be trying to look after a baby in a situation like this but you never want to listen to me”
You lower your voice when realizing that she's fallen asleep. “I don't care I can't leave her and she's sleeping now we'll be fine” Miguel stares at you before he hastily begins to walk back and forth. “You don't get it you just don't fucking get it”
“Seriously Miguel-”
You take a few steps back as he walks up to you. “Don’t seriously me nothing explain to me how much of a fight you think you can put up when you're like this. Huh, tell me? You have to protect yourself plus the baby and now you want to try to protect another baby with superpowers. Be reasonable here.” Your tears are falling freely down your face as you listen to him.
“Well, what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to think of yourself for once that's what” You stare up at him as the platform comes to a stop. You look around and this is the highest you've ever seen it go. You allow him to lead you to his office and you step inside sitting on his chair. As you stare at his desk you realize how messy it is. There are takeout containers and obviously his work—You pause and let out a deep sigh you shouldn't be thinking about this right now there are more pressing matters at hand.
“I will communicate with you through the watch. I'm going to check in with you every 5 minutes to make sure you're okay” You nod your head as you stare up at him. Everything's happening so fast that you feel like your brain is all messed up and somehow you feel like this is all your fault. You are pulled out of your thoughts when Miguel walks up to you resting his hands on the armrest of the chair. “I don't have enough time but whatever you do don't answer the door, only I can open it. No matter what you hear, stay in here, do you understand me?'' You slowly nod eager for this day to be over but why does this feel like a final goodbye?
You begin to rock slowly as Mayday begins to stir. Slowly you reach out your left hand to cradle his face. “No matter how long it takes just come back okay” For a moment you swear he leans into your hand, just for a moment. He stares at you before walking out of his office backward and it isn't until he uses his hand to close the door that you let go of the breath that you've been holding.
•°~°•
It's a mess, everything is a mess. He doesn't even know how they managed to get inside the building. He built Spider society with the intention of being safe for everyone so how in the world did this happen? And most importantly why are Spinebreakers goons back? Spinebreaker is probably one of the toughest villains he has fought in his life. Not only has he been MIA for over a year he is sending his henchmen to attack the Spider Society directly. He doesn't even have to explain how bad that is.
This is his 40th time checking in with you and he expects the sound of your voice to bring him some kind of comfort but instead, it only brings him pain. He doesn't know why he's feeling this way but with each head he smashes into the floor his anger rises. He shouldn't have left you there; he should've fought harder to let Peter handle Mayday. As shitty as it sounds, hiding with Mayday makes you both a target. Mayday would be safer with her father. You would be safer.
Fuck he can't think like this not right now. “5 minutes boss” He nods as he subtly whispers into his watch to check in with you.
“Speak to me” He gives you 5 seconds before he's speaking into the watch again. Maybe he's being dramatic but it shouldn't take you that long.
“I said speak to me”
“Sorry sorry we're here. Mayday just woke up, it's dark in here so I think she's scared Miguel” Dammit he should have thought of that. “There's a light switch to your left you have to stand up to touch it let me know when you got it” Miguel shoots out a web tying up one of the henchmen before knocking them out cold.
“Okay I got it” As he listens in he can hear Mayday’s cries in the background. It's subtle but it's there. He lets out an angry breath as the number of henchmen slowly decreases. If anything happens to you he's holding Peter accountable no ifs ands or buts.
“You see what I mean you don't listen”
“She's fine she just needed a moment”
“In times like these all it takes is one moment-”
“Damn it Spidey just stop it okay” It sounds like you're on the brink of tears shit he probably pushed it too far. He's just trying to get you to understand how vulnerable you are right now. There's only a door and an invisible barrier that's keeping you out of harm's way apart from that there's nothing else. It's just best if he drops it. The last thing he needs is you getting upset.
“I'll be back in 5”
•°~°•
“Mayday baby please stop crying” You're standing up rocking her back and forth trying to console her. Since she's woken up she hasn't stopped crying. You gave her her toy, you gave her her pacifier, and she wants none of that. You don't know what to do and you don't know if it's because of the current situation but her tears are making you want to cry.
“Do you want me to sing to you baby c-cause I can just please please please stop crying” You begin to hum a song that you remember from your childhood. Once you start to hum she slowly begins to quiet down and you let out a sigh of relief. You slowly begin to sit down, careful not to startle her when you feel a sharp pain in your lower back and legs. It hurts so bad you almost scream out in pain. Crap your doctor warned you about this but hell you didn't know it would be this bad. You have to bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from making noise.
“Checking in” You try to calm yourself down but it's no use it hurts—it hurts so badly.
“I said I'm checking in” You gently place Mayday down on the floor along with her toy. You can't hold her in this state.
“You have 5 seconds to answer me or I swear-” You begin to do the breathing exercises that your doctor showed you resting your hands on your stomach as you feel your baby moving.
“You're taking too long I'm coming”
You pause when you finally must have the courage and the strength to speak. “Spidey…don't worry we're good” You sound like you've just run a marathon. You wouldn't even believe yourself if you were on the other line.
“Why do you sound like that? What's going on?” You can hear the panic in his voice, damn you aren't trying to worry him.
“Nothing, it's just pregnancy pains. My doctor said this should be happening around this time-” You have to break in order to bite down on your lip. Shit these aren't even contractions and it hurts like hell.
You hear him let out a breath of relief. “Sciatica…you need to stretch, it gets worse if you stay seated” How in the world does he know about this?
“Uh that's easier said than done b-but I can try” You slowly begin to sink your body to the floor you try to remember some of the stretches your doctor showed you but it feels like the pain is only getting worse. When you finally get into position you keep your eyes on Mayday as you try to focus on your breathing.
“Try to stretch while counting to 10 it's going to be hard so I'll count with you” You take a deep breath as you try to follow along with him and slowly but surely the pain goes away.
You take a deep breath as you brush Mayday's hair away from her face. “How'd you know what was happening?” It takes him a minute to finally answer.
“Lucky guess”
“Yeah but how did you know exactly what it-”
“I'll check back in 5” You don't even have time to say anything else because he hangs up.
•°~°•
The last two henchmen are in his eyesight just out of his reach but before he can get to them he sees them beginning to retreat. Like hell, he'll let them leave. He uses his webs to drag one of them to him in order to question them. Right as he raises his left hand to deliver a blow he stops at the sound of the man's walkie talkie bringing his movements to a halt.
“Boss said W is not here retreat. I repeat boss said W is not here retreat” What the hell are they talking about?
“What does W stand for?” The man says nothing and just spits in his face. Miguel doesn't hesitate to punch him. Grabbing the man by his hair he makes sure the man is inches away from his face before speaking. “I said tell me what does W stand for” When the man doesn't budge Miguel disengages his mask to showcase his fangs.
“I have enough venom that will paralyze you for life and all you can do is sit there and feel as your muscles begin to spasm I'm giving you 4 seconds” He slowly begins to wrap his hands around the man's neck the more he showcases how easy it is to take away his life the better.
“What the fuck does W stand for? 3…2-” As the words spill out of his mouth he makes sure to tighten his grip watching as air becomes less and less accessible to the man.
“Okay—okay, it's his wife he's looking for his wife” The minute the man finishes the sentence Miguel's eyes grow incredibly wide. No, surely he's not talking about you, right? He doesn't believe this, not one bit there's no way. First, he found out that your ex-husband is a raging fucking douche who has no respect for you now he’s actually a villain who he thought was dead. Frustrated with the man's answer he let go of his neck only to sink his fangs into it a second later. This man doesn't know what he's talking about at all. Leaving the man unconscious he signals for Ben to take care of him. He needs to get answers right now and you’re the only person who can give it to him.
•°~°•
You sit on the floor quietly with Mayday while she gently pats your stomach. She's been fascinated with seeing your baby girl move around in there. You gasp when you hear someone landing right in front of the door but as you hear it beginning to unlock you calm down remembering only Miguel can open it.
The minute he comes into view a big grin emits on your face. “Hey, Spidey is it finally over?” He says nothing as he stands there in the doorway chest heaving up and down. He stays there watching as Mayday plays with your stomach. Slowly you begin to get up and move towards him making sure to step over Mayday.
“Is it all over now can we come out now” Once again he stands there saying nothing. Maybe he's hurt or something. You begin to pat him down in order to check for any wounds but you can't find anything
“You know who Spinebreaker is don't you?” Your movements come to a halt at his accusation before forcing yourself to resume the task at hand if you don't say anything then they won't know.
“You're not hurt so then why..” You begin to turn around and pick up Mayday toys from off the floor. You walk back up to him and ask him the same question. “Is it all over now? Are we safe?”
He uses his index finger to guide your face to him and your eyes grow in size what is he doing? “Don't lie to me, do you know him?”
“I've only ever heard of-” He cuts you off immediately. “I said do not lie to me the truth I want the truth” You begin to pull away from him shaking your head rapidly his tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. “I really don't know Miguel if I did-”
“Is that why you froze earlier when you heard his name because you've only heard of him in passing and not because he just happens to be your husband and the father of your child?” You immediately make a beeline for the door M-Miguel doesn't know anything he's just making this up. Spinebreaker isn't your husband…he said he would never do this again he stopped. You swear on your life he promised he would never hurt people again.
Before you can even step foot on the platform you feel an arm grabbing you and pressing you up against him. You stare at him as you slowly feel your eyes fill with tears after everything he has done for you are you really going to sit here and lie to this man's face? This was something you were supposed to take to your grave, this was something no one and you mean no one was supposed to know about. There was so much trauma that came from knowing that this other side of your husband exists and that this version of him hurt so so so many innocent people. If you denied it long enough the thought of it disappeared the longer you stayed in denial the better it was for you both mentally and emotionally. And as soon as you got pregnant the second life that your ex-husband used to live was nothing but a fragment of your twisted imagination. It wasn't real.
Just thinking of the amount of lives you could have saved if you had the strength and the willpower to tell someone makes you sick to your stomach. How could you have said anything if you knew what he would do to you or your family that you no longer talk to? But it's time you grow up and face the music. You can't really think this wouldn't have caught up to you someday.
It isn't until you feel a warm hand on the side of your face that you are pulled out of your thoughts. You lean into it placing a hand over his and resting the other one on your stomach as you feel him using his thumb to wipe away your tears.
“Yes I know who Spinebreaker is he's my ex-husband”
•°~°•
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yamujiburo · 6 months
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How would you define the personalities of Jessie and James? (their personality traits) and what are their main differences in your opinion? Thank you.
Ooooooooh amazing question I could probably go on about this forever. Let's seeeee
Jessie is an incredibly passionate, vain woman who is usually pretty quick to anger. She has a very hard exterior but has shown many moments of softness when it comes to those she cares about (her friends, her Pokémon, even Ash and some of the other twerps). She's excitable and arguably the dumbest of the TRio, often asking James or Meowth to explain things to her or on the opposite end, getting mad when they correct her on something she was wrong about LOL. Prior to being a Team Rocket field agent, she was very cold and closed off (as seen in Training Daze). And before THAT she was a cheery, much softer version of her current self. I think it's sweet that she kinda went back to being happier and sillier after befriending James and Meowth. The world truly was just cruel to her.
James (I'm very excited to talk about this I have a lot of thoughts) slowly but surely made a quite drastic change in character over the series. I can ALWAYS tell when someone's only ever watched season 1 of Pokémon depending on how they describe James. In the early seasons, James is very flamboyant, quite mean, has a sharp tongue. Jessie would often strongarm him in early seasons but he'd bite back without hesitation. He was also shown to be vain to a similar caliber as Jessie. HOWEVER. In later seasons, the vanity, bitey-ness kinda dies off and James' character changes. You wouldn't really be able to tell if you watch the series over time, but if you watch an S1 episode vs one of the S20+ episodes, you can really see it. James becomes more of a silly, sweet, nerdy boy. He's often the voice of reason and geeks out about various things like sports, Pokéballs, fishing gear, bottlecaps etc. Now when Jessie gets on his ass he more or less just deals with it with either a sigh or something akin to "it is what it is". He's very down to follow Jessie's lead unless it's something he's really passionate about, in which case, Jessie takes a back seat and lets him do his thang. As far as how James was before Team Rocket, there's not too much to go off of. As a child he seems very sweet but sad, given his rough, stifling upbringing. In Training Daze, he is much less silly and a bit more guarded (but less guarded than Jessie)
I'd also like to note that Meowth in earlier seasons felt like more of the leader? Like he was always keeping Jessie and James in line. But nowadays, he and James both take that role and tolerate Jessie's antics as a unit.
I think that's all I got to say. I could talk about this forever hahaha
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hyuckiefluff · 10 months
Text
Pretty Boy pt.2
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pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers word count: 4.2k content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :( a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.
part 1
As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.
"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."
It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.
Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.
The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.
As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.
You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.
"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."
A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.
As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.
But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.
"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.
Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.
"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.
Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.
"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.
He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.
"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.
"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.
"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.
He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.
"How about you fuck me…raw?"
You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.
"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.
He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.
"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"
He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.
All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.
You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.
Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.
You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.
"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.
You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.
It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.
Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.
His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.
"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.
He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.
"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."
“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.
"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."
He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.
You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.
"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.
He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.
The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.
"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.
And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.
“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.
He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?
Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.
At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.
The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.
Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.
"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.
So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.
"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.
"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.
He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.
"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.
You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.
What the fuck are we now?
He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.
"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.
"Do what?" you whispered back.
"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.
"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”
You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.
“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.
You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.
"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.
"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.
"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).
You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.
"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.
"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.
feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.
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amaranthineghost · 4 months
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ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻
| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairings: lando x reader
ꕥ parts: 1
ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp
ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.
ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!
ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.
IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?
he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.
it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.
it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.
he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.
he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.
more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.
he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.
when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.
max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.
when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."
lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.
"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.
"I'm fine."
"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."
"I will."
"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."
lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."
"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.
"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."
he paused, "fix it 'ow?"
lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."
"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"
lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.
"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.
"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.
"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"
"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.
"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"
"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.
"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"
"when we had dinner together."
max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"
"i 'ont know."
"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.
"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.
"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.
"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.
max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"
lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery
he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"
"you truly are a muppet."
"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.
and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.
his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.
he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.
it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.
" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."
it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.
"yeah, I know."
he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.
she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.
so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.
she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.
but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.
she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.
because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.
she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.
she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.
"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."
she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.
so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.
because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.
when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.
she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.
"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.
"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.
"but I was the one who broke you with you."
he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.
" 'nd I was the one who left."
she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.
her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.
his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.
"just don't leave again."
he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.
and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.
his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.
"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.
her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"
he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."
money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.
so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.
she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.
they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.
candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.
they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.
when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.
as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.
his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.
his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.
his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.
he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.
his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.
he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.
he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.
he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.
his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.
the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.
he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.
he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.
vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.
he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.
his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.
he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.
but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.
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cannibalbuffe · 1 month
Note
hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])
Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.
I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.
Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.
(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)
Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!
Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons
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(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)
‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.
› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.
› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.
› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.
› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.
› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.
› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.
› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.
› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)
› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.
› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.
› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.
› Anyways.
› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.
› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.
› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.
› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)
› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.
› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)
› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.
› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.
› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.
› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.
› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.
› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.
› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.
› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.
› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"
› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"
› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.
› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)
› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)
› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.
› Well, demon.
› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.
› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.
› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.
› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.
› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.
› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.
› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.
› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.
› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.
› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.
› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.
› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.
› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.
› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.
› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.
› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."
› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"
› "Definitely not!"
› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"
› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."
› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.
› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.
› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.
› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.
› Thankfully he understands things easily.
› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"
› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.
› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)
› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.
› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.
› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.
› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.
› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.
› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.
› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)
› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)
› And you care about him lot too!
› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)
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