Tumgik
#mind the tags if you want to avoid that topic
madschiavelique · 8 months
Note
Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
Tumblr media
Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
3K notes · View notes
katebishopsbow · 5 months
Text
MISSING PIECE • F1 GRID
Tumblr media
pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader (platonic)
summary: you have always taken pride in your ability to handle the press, until a journalist mentioned a sensitive topic that you had tried desperately to avoid – your estranged father. you struggled to give a response, and your fellow drivers showed no hesitation to jump in and defend you.
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of abusive parent, found family
word count: 3k
(image is not mine)
─────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───────
Formula 1 journalists have always been known to be brutal – asking questions that teetered on the brink of privacy violation and unnecessarily hostile probing with the excuse of “providing insightful coverage” on the highly competitive sport.
That was why media training existed – to prepare drivers for the harshest, most demanding questions thrown at them and rewire their brains such that instead of lashing out, they would be able to gracefully divert the focus to something else while also preserving their pristine image.
You had always excelled at handling the media, and your ability to constantly remain level-headed even when they asked the most ridiculous of questions was something you took pride in – until a journalist purposefully asked about a subject you had desperately tried to avoid ever since your F1 career started.
The relationship you and your father had was rather difficult to explain. The two of you became distant since the day your parents divorced and you decided to walk away from his constant emotional unavailability and manipulation he so skillfully disguised as paternal love. He didn’t bother asking you to stay – well, he never bothered doing anything when it came to you. He called occasionally, only when he needed something from you and your mother, and sent birthday cards out of obligation a month late because god forbid he remembered your birthday if your mother hadn’t reminded him.
Then the calls became less frequent, and then they stopped altogether, and his empty promises of visiting became blatant lies that you no longer believed in. Your father gradually turned into a stranger, a missing piece, a clouded memory left behind in the childhood days of your life.
It was a hard subject for you to talk about, something you would much rather keep away from the limelight and scrutiny of the world. Unfortunately for you, secrets weren’t really a thing in F1, and the obvious absence of one of your parents on the grid and in all your victory celebrations had been noticed by the public’s watchful eyes.
So your secret was no longer a secret. All the drivers on the grid were aware of it, and a few closest to you had known the full truth of your strained relationship with your father, but they all avoided mentioning it as they knew it was a family matter you wanted to remain private. Most journalists were also respectful enough to avoid asking insensitive questions when interviewing you, phrasing their words like “How will you celebrate the win with your family?” instead of using the term “parents”, and you were more than appreciative of that.
So when the voice of a certain reporter who was known to be ruthless with his questioning echoed through the press conference, directing the uncomfortable and out-of-the-blue question toward you, you suddenly found yourself at a loss for words.
“Rumors have been circulating the Internet recently about you and your father. There are accusations against you claiming that you were ‘selfish’ and ‘ungrateful’ for cutting off ties with your parent, that a callous and unforgiving person such as yourself does not deserve a seat or to be the inspiration for young minds. What are your comments on such claims, and have you ever experienced regret for turning your back on your family – your very own flesh and blood?”
The sudden silence in the room was suffocating, and the only sound you could hear was the heartbeat that was drumming loudly in your ears as the colour drained from your face. The discussion revolving around your relationship with your father wasn’t anything you were unfamiliar with, but to hear it being brought up so directly in front of the press and all your fellow drivers, and all the demeaning names that people had called you – it had felt so demoralizing.
What happened between you and your dad was entirely private, people outside of your family who had never gone through what you had experienced should never have the right to make comments on your decision to leave. They didn’t know what it was like to have a father who was never there, who constantly let you down with his lies and broken promises, who subjected all his volatile temper and toxic outbursts to his daughter and wife.
You had enough of his bullshit and were simply sick of pretending to be the perfect little family, so you left with your mother and told yourself that you would never look back. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t miss the presence of your dad every now and then – the palpable emptiness he left behind had and would continue to haunt you – but you also never once regretted your decision.
“I – I don’t think… these accusations… umm –” The composure you had always displayed in front of the media was long gone, and you struggled to find the right words to say in response to such an uncomfortable question. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixated on you while that journalist watched you with an inspective expression on his face, just waiting for the moment when you break – wanting you to lose control so that he could have the reaction he needed to write his article.
And all of a sudden, you were back in your childhood home, standing in the living room with your head hung low, fighting back tears as your father unleashed his wrath at you over the smallest, most trivial things. “What’re you crying for, huh? You want me to give you something to cry about?” he would say to you, his voice harsh and venomous as he screamed out insults that scarred your fragile little heart.
Then you were back in your grade school classroom, standing in front of the whole class and staying completely silent after your teacher assigned you the speech topic “My dad is my hero”. Your classmates looked at you as if you had grown a second head, confused by the way you were struggling to speak about a topic they could so easily blabber on for hours. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything – your dad was never your hero, he was a distant stranger who struck fear within you whenever he was around.
Then you were back in the bedroom at your new home, reading the birthday card that your dad had sent to you a month late. Written in the top left corner of the page was a scribble of your name, completely misspelled. You closed the card with tears brimming in your eyes, knowing that your existence was slowly beginning to fade from your father’s memories. You tried to remember what his voice sounded like, his calloused hands, his boisterous laughter on the rare days when he wasn’t screaming profanities at you and your mother, and then you realized that he was beginning to fade from yours, and it had felt so, so painful.
Blinking away the hectic memories, you were quickly dragged back to the reality of the press conference. Everyone was still waiting for your response, and the reporter continued to wait for you to crumble under pressure, but all you wanted to do was to run out of the room and hide from people’s blazing eyes, to not have the world criticize you on how you dealt with your family trauma.
“I think that is an absolutely unprofessional question to ask if I am being honest.” Max’s stern voice finally broke the silence, and you were still attempting to process the situation when he continued to chastise the overstepping journalist with an irritated scowl, “The focus of the press conference is to discuss the races and the drivers’ performances on the track, not to delve into people’s personal matter and bring up their family situations which clearly do not have any relevance to the sport.”
The Dutch driver had always been brutally honest, never afraid to speak his mind and call out the press for their bullshit, and this was no exception. Having a complicated relationship with his father himself, he knew the hardships of being in your situation and struggling with toxic family dynamics, and he experienced first-hand how the media loved exploiting such issues for the sake of a story. More importantly, you were his friend, and he would do anything to defend you.
You exchanged thankful glances with the driver next to you, feeling the warmth that blossomed over your heart when Max placed his hand over your trembling ones beneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze in a way that meant “Don’t worry. I got your back”.
Upon hearing what Max had to say, the reporter was quick to defend himself. “I was merely hoping to get some insights on whether or not the recent rumors had affected her performance on the track. That’s all,” he attempted to reason, trying to rationalize his intrusive question but was interrupted by another driver who frankly also had enough.
“I think everybody in this room is well aware that is not your intention,” Charles spoke up from his seat, staring at the lying journalist with a tight-lipped smile that was far from friendly. Being one of your closest friends on the grid, Charles was also no stranger to your father’s abusive tendencies and knew how tough it was for you to open up to him about such horrible memories. To see the press tried to take advantage of your vulnerability and blatantly lie about their ill intention sickened him, and he was not going to just sit and watch it happen.
The McLaren driver sitting beside him nodded as he let out a light chuckle, “Yeah I mean – I’m literally an idiot at reading the room but even I can tell that getting racing insights was not your only intention, mate.” The audacity some of these journalists and reporters had was astounding, thinking they could get away with asking disrespectful questions just because of their job titles. When it came to snapping back at their baleful antics, Lando did it once on camera with his iconic “Who are you?” and he would certainly do it again.
Carlos couldn’t help but smirk at Lando's cleverness – masking his reproval at the journalist with a self-deprecating joke. When his attention landed on the audience seated before him, he allowed himself to enjoy the caught-off-guard look on the journalist's now reddened face. “Serves him right for asking stupid questions,” Carlos muttered in a hushed voice just loud enough for himself to hear before turning his head to catch your eyes, shooting you a quick smile as a sign of support. You returned the kind gesture, thankful that your friends were standing by your side when you needed help.
As the journalist busied himself with trying to recollect his composure, an awkward silence hung upon the room once again. That was when Daniel perked up from his seat, the usual cheerful smile on his face as he proceeded to do what he did best – easing the tense atmosphere and diffusing the tension with a touch of humour. “Well, I can totally affirm that Lando can be an idiot sometimes,” he joked while grinning mischievously at the papaya driver, and the mood in the room visibly lightened as a few reporters laughed at his playful words.
“But on a more serious note though, I do believe it’s important to remember that drivers are also human beings, and we all have our own struggles and difficulties both on and off track. It’s crucial to respect drivers’ boundaries and not exploit their personal struggles, and our sole focus should always be on the sport and racing,” Daniel voiced out respectfully, emphasizing the one thing that people always seemed to forget – that drivers deserved privacy and owed nobody any explanations on their personal lives, even if they lived under the spotlight.
Oscar and Pierre who were seated at the further end of the table also nodded at Daniel’s resonating words, expressing their agreement on the importance of maintaining a respectful and uplifting environment for all drivers. “What are your thoughts, y/n?” A female reporter in the crowd raised the question, subtly giving you an encouraging smile as she steered the attention back to you, offering you the chance to speak your truth and address the situation directly.
The fear and dread within you slowly dissipated, replacing them was the heartwarming gratitude at your fellow drivers who showed no hesitation in defending you in the face of intrusive questioning. It was then that you realized you were never alone in this journey, that the other drivers on the grid were not only your competitors but your family who understood what you had gone through and would unconditionally have your back.
It was their reassuring glances, their wholehearted support, and their willingness to stand up for you that enveloped you with the strength and courage needed to finally speak up for yourself. “I would like to start off by thanking all the drivers here with me, and thank you to the journalist for that rather personal question,” you spoke clearly at your microphone, your voice emboldened by the newly found determination as you watched the journalist shift uncomfortably in his seat.
“While I do appreciate the public’s concern regarding my family issues, I would prefer to keep my personal life private. The decision to distance myself from my father to prioritize my well-being and emotional health is not something I regret doing, and it is not fair for people outside my family who don’t understand the complexities of our relationship to make assumptions on the matter.”
Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you made the closing remarks to your statement, “Which is why I kindly ask for your understanding and space moving forward, to respect the privacy of not only me but everybody on the grid and allow us to deal with our personal matter privately, and ultimately create a respectful community within Formula 1.”
You looked around the room when you had finally finished speaking, meeting the eyes of your fellow drivers and the rows of reporters sitting before you. Your hands were still shaking from the nerves that pulsated through you, but a firm squeeze of Max’s hand pulled you back to the present before you could begin spiraling. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said with a gentle smile.
The media training sessions had come in handy once again, and you managed to address the situation in a graceful manner without revealing more details than you were comfortable sharing while also highlighting the importance of personal boundaries in the world of motorsports. “Thank you, y/n,” the previous female reporter nodded at you with a proud smile, glad that you put those unprofessional reporters who had no sense of boundaries back in their place.
Among the sea of cameras and eager reporters who could so easily expose the vulnerabilities of the drivers with a simple flick of their pens, some suddenly found themselves becoming the subject of such exposure, called out for their prying questions and insatiable need to twist people’s words for a click-worthy story.
It was evident that what you and the other drivers said had struck something within them as they silently began reflecting on their roles and responsibilities as reporters, and perhaps remembering the reason why they had chosen journalism in the first place – to report the factual truth to the public, or to fabricate things in exchange for views and attention?
The press conference proceeded to continue, but the shift in the atmosphere was apparent when journalists asked their questions with more sensitivity and introspection, mentioning topics that genuinely mattered instead of blindly chasing exclusive headlines. When the conference finally ended, you and all the drivers collectively exuded a breath of relief, feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders now that the far-from-enjoyable media day was over.
As you exited the room and were away from the cameras and people, you turned around and gave your friends an appreciative smile. “Thank you all… for standing up for me.” You must have sounded like you were close to tears because Daniel began cooing at you teasingly as if he were comforting a crying child, “Aww… don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
Charles leaned forward to ruffle your hair almost like what an older brother would, and he said to you tenderly, “We’re a team, and we’ll always have your back.” You were not going to cry initially, but now you weren’t so sure. At that moment, you had felt so loved, so supported, and it made you want to hide under the covers and bawl your eyes out from the rush of emotions that crashed over you.
Your friends, understanding the depths of your emotions, gathered around to offer you their words of encouragement and gentle pats on your back. “I love you guys, really…” you whispered quietly, looking at them with such sincerity and gratitude. How lucky were you to be able to have these people as your competitors, your friends, your found family?
“Who wants to go and eat because I’m actually starving,” Lando exclaimed as he began walking in the direction of the restaurants, and a few of the drivers tailed behind him as they joined in on the rant about how hungry they were. You watched them with an overwhelming sense of fondness, and when Max reached out his hand for you to take, you gladly accepted it.
Listening to the light-hearted banter and laughs that filled the air with your best friend right next to you, you knew that this was exactly where you belonged. Not in the tiny living room with your father screaming at you, not in the classroom with the kids who didn’t understand what you had been through, not in the bedroom where you cried over your fading memories with your father, but right here – with your favourite people who would always be there to fight your battles with you.
2K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
Text
How JJK men act in and after a fight
Pairing: Gojo x reader, Megumi x reader, Nanami x reader
Word Count: 4,1k (a big baby)
Warnings: obviously hurt in every part but also a loooot of fluff, Megumi being as inexperienced as he is lol, Nanami's part is pure fan service, you're very welcome
Notes: I consider writing part ll of that with Choso, Geto and maybe Toji. If you're down for that, just leave me a comment or a like <3 as always thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give me, I truly don't deserve it <3
Part ll with Geto, Choso and Yuji can be found here
Tags: @ifuckfictionalmen @sanicsmut
Gojo Satoru
Tumblr media
“So you think I’m being ridiculous? I saw the way she looked at you and how her hand brushed against yours way too often”, you hiss, whole body trembling in pure rage.
“Oh, so every woman that touches me is apparently into me, now I get it”, he sarcastically remarks.
You bite your tongue, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying. Why is he not able to understand that you don’t feel comfortable with that situation at all? You told him over and over, especially when she completely ignored your presence on your first meeting. How does he not see all of this?
“You…You transferred money to her. A lot, actually. And all of that after she completely ignored me when you introduced me”
“Just like I do for you-“
“I’m your wife, moron!”, you scream on top of your lungs.
Satoru’s face is twisted in annoyance. He thought he’d come home to your loving arms, cuddling on the couch after a stressful day. But this? You stormed into him the second he opened the door, holding up bank statements. Over the past weeks, this happened way too often, interrupting your otherwise very peaceful marriage in a way Satoru can’t take any longer.
“So what? We’re colleagues, (y/n). You are my wife, why don’t you get that I am forced to work with other women from time to time?”, he questions.
The way he rolls his blue orbs at you sends you over the edge completely.
“So colleagues transfer money, hold deep eye contact and touch each other oh so casually when having a conversation? Don’t fuck with me, Satoru. I told you over and over that it bugs me, that I’m concerned. And you do absolutely nothing about it.”
“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”, he cries out in frustration.
Your heart sinks immediately when is words hit you with full force. Even though your relationship with Satoru does get pretty heated from time to time, he never called you names. Never.
Not until now, when it comes to that woman.
You need to get off his sight, away from his stinging presence. Without saying another word, you storm into your shared bedroom and lock the door behind you before he’s able to follow you.
“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”
His stinging words repeat themselves over and over in your head while you can’t hold back your tears any longer. This is so unfair. Why is he too blind to see the way she hunts after him, that she wants him to be more than a simple colleague? All you want him is to understand how uncomfortable this situation is for you, that you feel somehow betrayed.
“Open the door, (y/n)”, his clear voice is heard from behind the door.
Satoru knew he overdid it the second he saw the devastated look on your face. No matter how ridiculous this whole topic is, you don’t deserve his anger towards you. Mei isn’t more than a colleague for him though, a woman he has worked with on missions for years. She surely doesn’t like him like that, it’s simply impossible-
His phone vibrates in his pants, making him take a look at the screen.
What do you think about dinner tonight? Just the two of us.
He signs at her message, realization hitting him like a wall. Fuck, what did he do? The countless times her touch brushed over him, the messages she sent him not work related at all every night and how she always avoided the conversation when it came to you flood his mind uncontrollably. How could he make you feel this way? You told him over and over that you feel uncomfortable with this situation, asked him for compromises. And now…
Now he made you feel unwanted, delusional and dumb. You are his wife, the love of his life, the one thing that keeps him going in this world full of madness.
“Can you let me in, (y/n)? I’m sorry…”, he hushes against the closed door.
You can’t catch your breath, dry sobs hunt your body down when a new wave of sorrow washes over you. Does he even love you? All this time you thought you were the love of his life, his pride. But now…It feels like he chose that woman over you, that he cares about her opinion and feelings more than yours.
“I’m coming in”, he softly announces.
Of course, a simple closed door can’t keep him out if he doesn’t want to.
The second he lays his eyes on your crumpled on the floor figure, his heart completely breaks. Instantly, he kneels down in front of you and embraces you in his arms while your sobs make him hate himself even more.
“I’m so unbelievable sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that at all. It’s just that in my world, there’s only you and no one else. I never understood how you even get the idea of me liking another woman because this scenario is ridiculous to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I’m so so sorry…”, he mumbles against your ear.
Despite his words still haunt your mind, you can’t help but let yourself fall at least a little into his inviting arms, tears staining his uniform.
“I will talk to her and make clear that you are the one and only for me, I promise.”
It’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. You wrap your longing arms around him, forehead pressed against his.
“So you understand my point?”, you mutter.
“I do and I’m sorry for making you feel this way. You are the only woman in my life and I love you more than anything else”, he reassures you once again.
You definitely won’t get him away this easily. After all, words mean nothing without action. But this is a step in the right direction and for now, you can definitely live with that.
“Now, please stop crying, I’ll call her right away and we’ll watch your favorite show and order some food after, what do you think?”
“Only if you pay”, you sniff.
Megumi Fushiguro
Tumblr media
“Oh, where are you going?”, you question when your boyfriend Megumi gets up from the bed so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside.
The last few weeks were like a trip to hell and back, it seems like your relationship consists of Megumi going on missions while you have to stay behind. Before this night, you haven’t seen him for one whole week and while you do understand his responsibly as a jujutsu sorcerer, you can’t help but feel hurt.
“On a mission of course”, he remarks dryly.
Your eyes begin to burn as your heart sinks. It’s like you don’t know him anymore, as if he’s only the shell of the man you used to love. Is he so sick of you that he doesn’t want to spend a single day on your side? Is all of this on purpose? You can’t hold back any longer.
“You’re always leaving me”, you blurt out.
It shouldn’t bother you. After all, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Despite being Shoko’s trainee you should be aware of the fact that this job is a mess and means you have to dedicate your whole life to it.
But still you can’t help but fell hurt. Hurt because your boyfriend doesn’t even smile anymore when he returns, hurt because he comes and goes without saying a word, hurt because you feel like you lost him.
“What was that?”, he grumbles.
“Do you think I do this on purpose?”
“I just feel like you’re never here. And I miss you.”
“Not all of us have an easy job like you, (y/n).”
You swallow hard. Wow, that is new. And extremely painful. Even though you aren’t out there fighting, you still have a lot to do, working your ass off so everyone survives, day and night ready if something happens. This is just not fair.
“You think my job is easy? Stitch yourself up next time, then”, you hiss and cross your arms over your chest.
“Don’t come at me. You started this whole thing!”
“Yeah, I ‘started this whole thing’ because you are my boyfriend and I love you, and I…I fucking miss you! But fine, if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave.”
It’s ridiculous and you know it, mind screaming violently, begging you to stay. But your heart can’t. This was simply too much. You can’t stay here with a boy that treats you like this.
“If you leave now-“
“Then what?”, you interrupt him immediately, cold eyes glaring at him while your hand rests on the door.
“You’ll leave? You leave every time, Megumi. See you around…Or not.”
And with that, you leave him standing in his room alone, staring at the door like an idiot. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you acting up like that? He doesn’t know you like that. But still, your words do make him wonder if you’re somehow right…
He shakes his head violently. No, you’re being ridiculous. Maybe you need to sleep in and you’ll figure this out as soon as he returns.
But one things for sure: Megumi definitely won’t make the first move.
And so days pass until finally weeks begin to pass without both of you saying a single word to each other. Every time you see him you feel like dying inside, heart screaming at you in agony to stop your stubbornness, to approach him and say sorry. But you can’t. You simply can’t over the fact that he let you go like that, not even looking your direction when you cross each other. It’s like he doesn’t know you anymore despite all the nights you shared with each other, despite the intimate moments you’ve had.
No, it seems like he doesn’t care at all.
“Hey (y/n)!”, Nobara greets you.
“Hey, I’m in a bit of a rush”, you explain briefly, already on your way to assist Shoko in an autopsy of a curse.
“It’s just…(y/n), are you and Megumi okay?”, Nobara mutters, her face twisted in concern like you’ve never seen before.
You stop in your tracks, a new wave of grief washing over you. No, nothing is okay, absolutely nothing to be exact. You want to scream it into her face, break down crying, let all your feelings out. But instead, you just gift her an empty smile and say:
“Sure.”
‘Sure’ as if he never raised his voice at you, ‘sure’ as if Megumi would care about you feeling lonely and missing him, ‘sure’ as if you actually meant something to him
“I mean it’s none of my business but…You guys haven’t talk for what feels like an eternity, you are no longer there and I’m just worried that he messed things up with you, y’know…Well, let me know if I can help you with something, okay?”
She gently places her hand on your shoulder while you have to force yourself to not shed a tear. Oh, if she only knew. If she only knew that the last weeks were absolute hell, that you feel like dying inside. But this is something you and Megumi have to deal with alone. Even Nobara can’t help you with that.
You say goodbye to her and walk towards the laboratory, tears still stinging threatening in your eyes. How much you long for talking to him, to tell him how much his words really hurt you. But you can’t bring yourself to make the first step. After all, you tried to talk this out multiple times only for him to not even listen. No, this time he’ll have to make the first move if he wants you back.
If…
“(y/n).”
That voice. That oh so familiar voice that makes your heart skip a beat.
“Megumi”, you breathe out, slowly turning around to face him.
There he stands, scratching his head while looking at your feet, eyes not meeting your gaze.
“How…how you’ve been?”
Even a blind man would see the blush creeping up his face…Is he embarrassed? Painfully awkward silence hangs between you two as all you can do is stare at him, your blood slowly but surely boiling up. Is he really asking you how you’ve been after not talking to you for weeks, ignoring you every time he saw you?
“You have some fucking nerves”, you spit at him, closing the gap between you two with a rushed movement.
“You’re not talking with me for weeks and now you’re asking how I’ve been? I’ve been miserable, Megumi. I felt like dying every time you ignored me!”
Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t let him see how you really feel. Your trembling hands frantically wipe away the threatening tears, eyes darted towards him.
“I just couldn’t, (y/n). It’s just…I…”, he stumbles over his very own words, fingers over and over running through his hair.
“I was able to see it until I thought about it. I’ve been a horrible boyfriend, (y/n). So horrible that I thought you’d be better off without me. But I’m simply too selfish to let you go. I’m sorry for not making time for you, I’m sorry for treating you like shit, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you when in reality, all I was able to think about was you and how much I missed you sleeping besides me”, he suddenly blurts out, leaving you completely speechless.
This is everything. Everything you longed for, ever single word you graved so deeply. Did this thick silence really change the way he sees your relationship now? A look into his sorrow – filled eyes is enough to realize that he’s telling the truth, making your heart jump up and down.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because I know I’m not the boy you deserve and I’d fully understand if you’re having enough of me. I just wanted to let you know that I can see it now and that I want to give you what you deserve if you let me.”
The glistening in his eyes literally begs you for a second chance while your very own heart screams at you. Of course you want him back, Megumi is everything you ever wanted. But he’ll have to show that it’s really different this time.
“Promise me something”, you announce.
He tilts his head to his side, brows furrowed in confusion.
“What?”
“Promise me you’ll stay with me today, that we’ll spend time together. No mission, no obligations.”
“I’ll stay as long as you need, as long as you want me around, (y/n). This time without you hurt like hell, I simply don’t want to let you go again”, he hushes, his tender fingertips brushing over your arms.
“That sounds good…”, you mutter, resting your head against his chest.
God, how much you missed that feeling. Even though your relationship had its ups and downs, you always admired the way Megumi was able to calm you down in an instant with a simple touch of his hand.
Maybe you will figure it out now. And maybe him not having time for you stays in the past forever.
Kento Nanami
Tumblr media
“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
You’re on your way home after a pretty ugly mission. And even though Shoko already stitched you up, you feel like dying. Everything just hurts, it’s hard to even walk.
The thought of your husband at home makes your guts turn. Not because you don’t love him or aren’t longing to see him, but because of your recent conversation.
“It can’t go on like this, (y/n). You’re always injured and it’s starting to concern me. Maybe I have to talk t-“
“No”, you interrupted him immediately.
“Please don’t. I’ll be careful from now on. I promise.”
“Fine. But if this happens again, I’ll have a talk with the elders.”
And it happened again. All these missions one after another really took their toll on your concentration. One moment of unwariness was enough to sweep you off your feet, thigh sliced open in the nastiest way you’ve ever seen. Shoko told you it will take some time to heal entirely, but if Kento gets to see this…
“Maybe I should call Nanami to pick you up. You really can’t walk like that (y/n).”
“No, please don’t!”, you begged Shoko for dear life.
“I don’t want this to cause trouble. It’s fine, really!”
“You almost died, (y/n)”, she remembered you dryly.
“And I will definitely die if you tell him. Please Shoko.”
She signed.
“Fine. Just be careful and visit me tomorrow…”
You swallow. A fight seems inevitable if you won’t hide your wound from him.
You take a deep breath, keys trembling in your sweaty palms. Fuck, why does this have to ache so badly? Shoko gave so some pain killers, you shouldn’t feel a single thing.
No, focus. Pain is only in your head. But Kento is very real.
With one last stolen glance at your injured leg you open the door, forcing a smile on your face. Where is he? Your heart beats out of your chest, hands so sweaty that you have to wipe them on your coat.
“Kento?”, you shout into the quiet living room, closing the door behind you gently.
“There you are, sweetheart”, his voice coos out of the bedroom.
Your breath hitches, eyes wide open at the sight in front of you. There he stands, your loving husband. Dressed in nothing but his pants, bare chest immediately captivating you. Oh god, he looks so delicious that you feel like fainting, hungry eyes roaming over his tight muscles as if you haven’t seen him like that hundreds of times before.
“Where have you been? A mission like that shouldn’t take this long.”
He begins to approach you elegantly, staring at you with a small smile on his delicate lips.
“Y-yeah…Still had something to…y’know…say…to Shoko”, you stutter.
Why does he have to look so absolutely delicious? And why does your leg suddenly feel so…wet?
“Are you alright? You seem a little unfocused today. Did you get hurt?”
His eyes scan over your body without any mercy, forcing you to hide your leg behind the other.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine”, you press out.
No, you’re anything but fine. The way your other leg brushes against your injured one makes you see stars. You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, sweat running down your forehead uncontrollably. You need medication – now.
“I planned something very excited for us today. Something you might like”, he purrs, closing the distance between your bodies.
His hand grabs your waist passionately while your mixed emotions take your breath away. God, how much you love the way his arms wrap themselves around you, knowing exactly that this leads you directly into the bedroom.
But that means…
“Oh yeah?”, you chuckle nervously.
That means he’ll see the wound you’re so desperately trying to hide.
“Absolutely”, he breathes against your ear.
Oh god, this is so good…No, it’s not good at all. You need to get away from him, out of this misery, into t-
A toe-curling scream escapes your lips before you even realize what is happening, body stumbling backwards.
“(y/n)!”, Nanami mutters, eyes wide open.
He squeezed your leg like he always does and just the way you like it. Why on earth are you acting like that? That haunted look on your face almost makes it seem as if he hurt you.
Lost in thoughts, he looks down at his hand.
His blood-smeared hand.
It slowly dawns to him. No, it isn’t because he did something you don’t like. It’s because you’re injured again. And you decided to lie into his face about it.
“What is this?”
Your husband’s voice sounds as unpromising as you imagined it in this situation, eyes widen in horror while you’re still panting in agony.
Fuck. Your heart drops immediately by the sight of his blood smeared hand. Kento is an outstanding smart man, too clever to be considered an idiot by your actions.
“You promised me to stay safe. And that you lie to be about being injured...”
“(y/n), look at me”, he insists, grabbing your chin.
His eyes seem to stare right through your soul as he glances down at you, jaw tightened.
“I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Only because you’d freak out”, you reply in your own defense.
“Like I should! I told you over and over to look out for yourself, to skip a few missions before you get seriously hurt. And what is that, huh?”
He points at your wounded leg, blood now soaking through the fabric of your skirt.
“You are severely injured. Just like I predicted.”
You feel like a child being scolded by her parents. Even though Kento never raises his voice at you aggressively, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses up and that glistening in his gaze that he’s absolutely furious.
“I am able to look after myself. I know what’s best for me”, you remark annoyed.
Fuck, you’re so damn tired. All you want is to bandage yourself up and go to sleep.
“Yes, I can see that.”
Something about his sarcastic tone and the way he stares down at you while shaking his head makes you snap.
“I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to look after me like a damn child! Mind your own business, Kento!”
“You are my business. You are my wife. It’s my responsibility to take care of you!”, he barks back.
“But I don’t want you to take care of me, I want you to leave me alone!”, you spit into his face, making him drop his shoulders immediately.
God, you want to take that back straightaway, knowing damn well how your comment hurt his feelings. But at the moment, all you can think about is a warm bed and finally some rest.
You drag yourself into the bedroom and let your trembling body fall onto the mattress. This is not fair, right? After all, you aren’t a child anymore, you are able to look after yourself…right?
You close your eyes, the disappointed look on Kento’s face lingering through your mind. It wasn’t fair to snap at him, though. He is your husband, always caring about you. No, he certainly doesn’t deserve you to treat him like this.
Three soft knocks on the door.
“Can I come in?”, his damped voice questions.
“Sure”, you mumble.
You can’t even look at him when he enters the room in silence, elegant steps leading him to the bed where he sits down next to you. Suddenly, he begins to rip open a package of bandages, catching your attention.
“What are you doing?”
“I take care of you. May I?”
His gaze wanders to your skirt, eyes asking you for permission to pull it up.
“Sure…”, you mutter, a slight blush creeping up your face when his fingers brush over your panties.
“How did this happen?”, he asks softly while his skilled fingers remove the blood soaked bandage.
“I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t paying full attention and got hit by a curse.”
“I see.”
Despite all the things you said to him, despite the way you hurt him a few minutes ago, your man kneels in front of you and caresses your wound with so much affection that it doesn’t hurt at all. Your eyes wander over him, how his gaze is focused exclusively on your thigh, skilled fingers working wonders.
“I’m sorry for lashing out and not telling you”, you let out, not able to hold in your bad conscience any longer.
“I understand that I put you in an uncomfortable position when I threatened to talk to the elders about this and I’m very sorry for that. But it can’t go on like this, (y/n). This is the 5th serious injury within three weeks and I’m truly worried about you. I don’t want you to end like-“
He stops himself from finishing that sentence but oh you know exactly what he means and it shatters your heart. Without hesitation, your fingers grab his face gently, eyes locking with yours.
“I love you, Kento. And I see that you’re right. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow myself about that”, you assure him.
A small but precious smile appears on his face, free hand caressing your cheek with so much affection that you have to hold back a tear.
“You’re my everything, sweetheart. Let’s stitch you up and go to bed.”
2K notes · View notes
punkshort · 29 days
Text
i know who you are | 2. the journal
Tumblr media
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Your memories still remain out of reach, so you ask Joel to tell you a bit about yourself, and with the help of a journal you kept, you begin to learn more about the person you became in the past ten years, leaving you with more questions than answers.
Chapter Warnings: language, eating, alcohol use, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia
WC: 6.3K
Series Masterlist
"Did'ya get any sleep?"
You glanced up at Joel as you walked side by side towards the dining hall.
"No," you admitted, looking straight ahead again.
After Joel left you in his - your - bedroom, instructing you to rest on his way out, you found you could do anything but. Your mind was spinning with all of the information you had just learned, and you weren't sure which topic consumed you more: the end of the world or the supposed love of your life.
The longer his words set in, the more you were finding it difficult to look at him. It was such a strange feeling, having this large, burly, gruff man proclaim his love for you, to say he would stop at nothing to make you feel the same way, to insist you were meant for each other. It seemed so out of character, though you hardly felt like you knew him. But even now as you walked down the street, you noticed how some of the people in town glanced at him. Moving quickly out of his way.
It wasn't just you who found him intimidating.
You were distracted as you walked, curiously peering into storefronts and repurposed buildings when a group of children playing a game of tag nearly ran into you. At the last moment, Joel tugged your arm, pulling you into his side just in time. The children seemed to realize their mistake because their laughter quickly stopped and the smiles fell from their faces as they looked up at him.
"We're sorry, Mr. Miller," a young boy no more than eight years old said.
Miller. You never even bothered to ask his last name.
Joel just grunted and they scurried away, no doubt eager to escape his glare. You chanced a look at him, studying his stern expression when you realized he was still holding you against him. He was warm. Warmer than you expected. And solid. You cleared your throat and stepped away from his grasp, muttering your thanks and glancing around the busy street to avoid the disappointed look in his eye when it became clear you weren't comfortable with him touching you.
You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans and continued to walk in silence down the main road. A few people shot you curious looks or did double takes as they walked by, and you had to assume if Ellie heard the news about your accident, then others had, as well.
The Tipsy Bison came into view at the corner of the street, made obvious by the large crowds of people gathered outside.
"Does everyone have to eat here or are you allowed to have food in your homes?" you asked him, and he looked down at you, surprised by the question.
"We got food. It's not like a prison or somethin'," he said with a chuckle. "Most folks like to come here to socialize, but sometimes we cook dinner at home," he stopped short when he realized he never asked you what you preferred. "Did'ya wanna stay home instead?"
"No, this is fine," you told him over your shoulder.
"You sure? Maybe it's too much right now," he replied, jogging a bit to keep up.
"I'm sure. You won't leave me, right?" you asked, looking at him nervously.
"'Course not," he said, trying to hide his grin. He liked that you wanted him around, even if it was only because you didn't know anybody else. It was a start.
When Joel swung the door open, holding it wide so you could enter first, it might have been your imagination but you thought the loud chatter simultaneously died down for a split second. Then Joel stepped in beside you and the volume rose once again.
You wanted to look around and take in the rustic atmosphere but you could feel the eyes on you as Joel led you through the crowd, the scrutiny making you feel extremely out of place, so you kept your gaze pinned straight ahead. Following dutifully behind, you watched as people automatically moved out of his way, like he was Moses parting the Red Sea, until he reached a table in a somewhat quiet corner of the dining hall. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, his hand still resting on the back, and it took you a second to realize he was waiting for you to sit so he could push it in. You quietly thanked him then finally looked around the room.
The dining room had tables scattered around, and as far as you could see, they all appeared to be taken. People were standing in groups, drinking and laughing and eating and you wondered how in the world your table wasn't taken. You were about to turn and ask when an older man approached your table.
"Hey guys," he said, pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "What'll it be?"
You went wide eyed for a moment, looking around trying to figure out what your choices were when, much to your relief, Joel spoke for you both.
"Still got any of that stew left?"
"Sure do. Few guys got lucky earlier today, too. Got two deer, so we'll be havin' more soon," he replied, jotting something down on his paper. "Two whiskies?"
Joel was about to nod when you spoke up for the first time.
"Just water for me, thanks," you said, and the man nodded his head.
"Thanks, Seth," Joel said as he walked away.
You glanced at Joel quickly, awkwardly catching his eye. It felt too much like a date. Dropping your gaze to the table, you tried to think of something to say.
"Probably a good idea, skippin' alcohol," he said. "Didn't even think about it, what with your head and all."
"Yeah," you said, your hand coming up to gently touch the stitches. "Besides, I don't like whiskey, anyway," you added. Joel laughed softly as he watched you shift nervously in your chair.
"What?" you asked with a frown.
"Nothin'," he replied, still staring at you in disbelief. "Just ever since you got here you've been tossin' back whiskey better than most of the men. You must've gotten a taste for it at some point."
"There's no way," you said, scrunching your nose when Seth put down Joel's glass in front of him. He stared down at it wistfully, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought.
"Whiskey's how we first met," he said softly, still staring at the glass. You tilted your head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "When you first arrived, you were like a caged animal. You came here lookin' to blow off steam," he said with a distant smile. "It was a slow night. Just you and me and a handful of others. You were tossin' that shit back like it was nothin'."
You watched him as he reminisced. His eyes shone brightly and a small smile played on his lips, it almost felt like you were intruding on something special.
"When me and Ellie first arrived, no one really went outta their way to talk to me. I preferred it that way. Was used to bein' on my own," he continued, looking up at you now. "But that night, you sat down next to me at the bar like you had been waitin' for me or somethin'. You asked me if I was drinkin' for fun or drinkin' to forget. Those were the very first words you said to me."
You were completely silent as he spoke. The way he told it, it felt like you could see the scene playing out right before you, the way he remembered every detail left you in awe.
"What did you say?" you asked a little breathlessly.
The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked down at the table.
"Drinkin' to forget."
You waited for him to elaborate, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to, you asked him another question.
"Then what happened?"
He raised his eyebrows and hummed, a slow smile stretching across his face before he answered.
"You told me you could help me have fun and help me forget," he said, and you could feel the heat instantly flush your cheeks.
"Oh, my god," you murmured, covering your mouth, utterly mortified. "Please tell me you're joking."
He shook his head, still smiling at the memory. You glanced around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.
"So then, did we...?" you trailed off, gaze still fixed on a spot on the wall.
"Oh, yeah. 'Course we did. I'm no saint," he chuckled.
"Jesus Christ," you said, burying your face in your hands. "That doesn't sound like me at all."
"It's not. Well, not anymore. You had an edge to you when you first arrived. Most do. Survivin' out there does that to you," he said, taking his first sip of whiskey.
You sat in silence for another minute, contemplating asking him what he knew about your life before you met him, but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe another time.
"Where's the bathroom?" you asked him, and he pointed down a small hallway near the bar. You thanked him, his eyes trailing after you as you made your way through the crowds, only dropping his gaze once you were no longer in view. It was a strange thing, recounting stories for you like that. At first, the memories made him smile, but once he saw the lost look on your face he felt the sadness creep back up, settling deep in his chest, and he wondered if he would ever get you back.
Tumblr media
You knew you were in the bathroom too long. You knew he would likely be worried, but you just couldn't stop staring at your reflection in the mirror after you washed your hands. Who was this person staring back at you? She looked older and weathered and tired. Your fingertip gently prodded at the bags under your eyes and then a small scar on your chin. What happened to you out there to make you the person Joel was describing? What did you have to do to survive? And did you really want to know the answer?
The door swung open, startling you as three girls around your age entered the bathroom. Their giggles stopped when they saw you and you watched them exchange glances in the mirror before a pretty girl with long, blonde hair greeted you by name. Turning around, you gave her a smile, hoping they would go about their business so you could slip out of there, but of course the pretty girl wanted to talk.
"We heard you had an accident, are you okay?" she asked, and she sounded sincere, but something about her smile made you think twice.
"Yeah, got a few stitches but it should be fine," you said, your eyes flicking to the other two girls, giving them each a smile. They looked at each other and smirked before heading towards the bathroom stalls, leaving you with just the blonde.
"So, is it true? Did you really lose your memory?" she asked, her voice low as if it were a secret, and finally you were able to pick up the vibe. You had been to high school before the outbreak. You had encounters with these types of girls before. Friendly to your face, vicious behind your back.
"Uh, yeah," you admitted, and she gasped as if she felt bad, but you saw the way her eyes lit up.
"So you don't remember, like, anything?"
"Well, I remember before everything went to hell," you told her, "but I don't remember this place, no."
"Oh, wow," she said, and you heard the toilets flush before the other two girls exited the stalls, grinning conspiratorially at the blonde. "So you don't know anybody here?"
You shook your head, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning at this point. What was she really getting at?
"That must mean you don't remember Joel, right?" one of the girls at the sink piped up. You looked at her briefly over your shoulder and shook your head, turning back to the blonde but not before you caught the look in her eye.
"Oh, that's too bad," she said, giving you a pout. "Does that mean you aren't together anymore, or-"
Suddenly, the door swung open and Ellie stormed in. Her hard gaze drifted around to the three girls and she gave them a look of disgust.
"Scram, vultures," she told them, and the blonde made a face at her before flipping her hair over her shoulder and heading to one of the stalls. Ellie called your name and you scurried over, allowing her to lead you back out into the dining room but not before she gave the other two girls a few choice words.
"Don't talk to them, they're nasty," she told you as you weaved your way through the crowd. Joel's eyes instantly found you once you were in view and you saw him straighten up in his chair.
"You okay?" he asked, and you could see the genuine concern in his face as you sat down. You were about to answer when Ellie plopped down on the other side of him and spoke first.
"Angie and her little sidekicks cornered her in there," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Already sniffing around for scraps."
"What do you mean?" you asked her, but just then Seth arrived with your meals and you never got an answer.
"Stew again?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her nose.
"It's good," Joel told her before taking a bite. You looked down at the bowl and you were inclined to agree with Ellie, but you swallowed the food down anyway, just grateful for something to eat after such a long day.
"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, noticing she hadn't ordered anything and instead was busy sketching in a journal.
"Nah, I'm going to Dina's later, I'll eat there," she explained without looking up.
"Who's Dina?"
"Oh, my girlfriend," Ellie explained, glancing up at you briefly. "Sorry. I still can't get used to this. It's so weird you don't remember."
"Don't be out too late. You got school tomorrow," Joel reminded her. Even though he wasn't Ellie's father, he seemed to have quite the knack for being a dad.
"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically, giving him a weak, two-fingered salute before hunching back over her journal. You heard some familiar giggles coming from somewhere behind you, and when you turned to look, you locked eyes with the blonde girl from the bathroom - Angie - who was holding some drink in her hand, her two friends flanking her sides as she strolled past your table. Her eyes drifted briefly to Joel before she passed by, then turned her attention to her friends, disappearing into the crowd.
"Who is that?" you asked, realizing you never really got much of an explanation. Joel and Ellie responded at the same time.
"Nobody."
"Joel's ex."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel glared at Ellie.
"What? She woulda found out eventually," Ellie protested.
"She ain't even an ex," he said, turning to you now. "Just a mistake I made one time before you even got here," he insisted. The tone in his voice made it sound like he was trying to reassure you there was nothing to worry about, but of course, the information didn't phase you.
"Okay," you replied with a shrug. He examined your blank stare for a moment, searching for a glimmer of recognition. The disappointment in his expression every time something like this happened was becoming too much to bear, so you dragged your eyes off him to glance around the crowded room once again. You found Tommy leaning against the bar and you stood up.
"Where are you goin'?"
"I need to ask Tommy something," you said. "I'll be right back."
His eyes followed you as you pushed your way towards the bar, his heart feeling like it was going to break. He wasn't exactly looking for you to have an overly jealous reaction to hearing about another woman from his past, but your casual indifference hurt more than he expected. When you first found out about Angie, you insisted you weren't jealous but the way you sneered at her going forward, combined with giving him the best sex of his life later that night told him a different story.
"You think she'll ever get her memory back?" Ellie asked, still focusing on her drawing. Joel sighed and dragged his hands down his face.
"I don't know, kid."
Tumblr media
"What'd you need to talk to Tommy for?" Joel asked once you both arrived back to his - your - home. You had wandered into the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.
"Oh, I just had a question about something I saw when we were out there today," you explained, and he raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "There were dead bodies when I came to. They looked all decayed and... subhuman. Now that you told me about the infection, I wanted to ask."
Joel watched you open and close cupboards until you found the glasses, then picked one out to fill with water.
"So you ran into some runners," he said, and you nodded. "Did he happen to mention how you hit your head?"
Your hand froze, your glass halfway to your lips as you considered his question.
"Actually, no, he didn't," you said, setting down the glass and looking up at him.
"Yeah, he didn't really tell me, either," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When he told me you hit your head and you were havin' trouble remeberin' things, I just came runnin'."
Guilt washed over you yet again as you thought about Joel being told the news and how panicked he must have been. He practically ripped all the exam room doors off their hinges to find you, only to be met with a stranger when he finally did.
"Well, I can ask him tomorrow," you finally said, putting your glass in the sink to avoid looking at him.
"Yeah," he replied, trailing off a bit. He was still lost in thought, trying to remember Tommy's exact words when you walked past him towards the stairs.
"You're tired?"
"Well, it's been a long day," you told him, pausing on a stair to look back down at him.
"Right, 'course," he said, shaking his head and following you up. When you got to the doorway of his bedroom you paused, looking up at him. It seemed like he was struggling to say something, his mind working hard to find the words, but instead he just gazed down at you, brown eyes all wide and soft.
"Don't suppose anythin's comin' back to you yet?" he finally asked, and you hated seeing that look. That same hopeful look you kept seeing right before you opened your mouth and crushed him. This was hard for him, you knew that, but the way he kept looking at you was making things so much worse. The pressure you felt to become this person he was expecting you to be was overwhelming. You opted to drop your gaze to the floor and slowly shake your head.
"That's okay," he said, and you dragged your eyes back up to him. "Maybe tomorrow."
You gave him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."
He sighed and glanced at the door to the spare room.
"You need anythin', I'm right next door," he said, hitching his thumb to the side and giving you a lopsided grin, but you could still see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The sadness. The yearning. And it was making you feel sick.
Just as he turned to head towards the spare room, you spoke. "Joel?"
And he eagerly swiveled back around.
"I'm gonna try really hard to remember," you said earnestly, looking deep into his eyes.
"I know," he replied with a sad smile. He gave you one more look before heading into the spare room and softly closing the door behind him.
Tumblr media
Joel slept like shit.
No surprise there, really. He hadn't slept without you in years. He had hoped the whiskey would have helped, but he was wrong. His mind was racing as he tossed and turned, and by morning he had foolishly convinced himself that you would be back to normal after a good night's rest. He got up early and made coffee for the two of you, like he always did, then tended to the fire in the living room. The nights and early mornings were frigid, but the days were warm. The first sign that fall was approaching fast. He was just putting the poker back when he heard the bedroom door creak open upstairs and his heart jumped into his throat excitedly, but when you descended the stairs and locked eyes with him, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't even bother to ask. You didn't look at him the same way you used to. You used to smile and gravitate towards him, your hands always seeking out his, your eyes playful and loving, but now you looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Devoid of all affection, the only thing that remained was a forced politeness.
You said good morning and headed into the kitchen and Joel wondered how long it would take for you to come around. Less than a day ago, you looked at him in fear, but now you seemed at least comfortable in his presence. That had to count for something.
He must have looked like shit because when he joined you in the kitchen, you eyed him up and down curiously.
"Have you been up for a while?"
He shook his head and picked up his mug, taking a sip and hoping the caffeine would bring him back to life.
"How's your head?" he asked.
"Not great," you admitted, pouring your own cup of coffee. "It really hurts. I think whatever meds the doctor gave me yesterday wore off."
Without even thinking, Joel quickly closed the distance between you to examine your injury. You startled a bit when he came up behind you and lifted your hair, but for his benefit, you tamped down your reaction. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he gripped the nape of your neck to angle your head downwards in order to get a better look. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you focused on his fingertips pressing tenderly into your skin. You heard him murmur to himself, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and you realized just how close he really was. Aside from pulling you out of the way so the kids playing tag wouldn't knock you down, it was the first time he had really touched you, and he was so much softer than you expected.
"Don't think it's infected but let's go see the doc, just to be sure," he said, his hand still on your neck, his other hand pushing your hair away.
"Okay," you said quietly, finally allowing yourself to take in a shaky breath as you waited for him to release you.
As if he realized what he was doing, he let your hair fall back into place and let go of your neck, his fingertips lightly trailing down your spine before falling to his side, making you shiver and step away.
"Sorry," he said. "Should've asked to look first."
"It's fine," you told him, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your neck his fingers just touched.
As you walked side by side to the infirmary, his stony expression slid back into place. Gone was the softness you witnessed in his home. His hardened gaze drifted around the street, then to the watch towers, taking everything in. Studying. Calculating. And that was when you realized there were two Joel Millers: the one who the rest of the town viewed as gruff and callous, and the one you saw in the kitchen that morning, soft and gentle.
You wondered how many people got to see the latter version.
Tumblr media
Nick examined you again in the same room as before, but this time, Joel was there watching his every move like a hawk. You could practically see the tension radiating off Nick's shoulders as he moved around the room. He examined your cut carefully, Joel's eyes never once leaving his hands, confirming that it was not infected before parceling out ten little white tablets of extra strength Tylenol into a small baggie and advising you to use them sparingly as inventory was low.
"That's it?" Joel asked incredulously.
"You know how it is, Joel," Nick said, but you heard his voice waver when Joel stood up from his chair. "Meds are hard to come by, we gotta be smart-"
"She hit her goddamn head so fuckin' hard she's lucky she remembers her own name and you're givin' her Tylenol?" he seethed, and you could see his neck growing flush with anger again.
"Joel, calm down, it's fine," you said, sliding off the table. Turning to Nick, you were about to voice your thanks when Joel cut you off.
"It ain't fine. What's it gotta take to get somethin' that actually works?" he huffed, taking a step forward and making Nick shift his weight nervously. "She gotta be missin' an arm? Maybe if she hit her head hard enough to forget what fuckin' planet she's on?"
"Joel, that's enough!" you snapped with a frown, and much to Nick's relief, Joel instantly backed off. He turned and paced around the small room, his hand rubbing over his mouth as he tried to calm down.
"What about my memory? Is it a bad sign I haven't remembered anything yet?" you asked Nick, and Joel paused somewhere behind you to listen to his answer.
"Well, the brain is a tricky thing," he began, his eyes darting over your shoulder briefly. "It could be weeks, could be months. Without any imaging, I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than that." You nodded and swallowed nervously before asking your next question.
"Or never, right?"
Nick took a deep breath and looked at Joel over your shoulder again before responding.
"It's possible."
You heard Joel's boots squeak against the linoleum floor and without even looking, you knew he was anxiously pacing around again.
"Alright, thank you. We'll get out of your hair now," you said, turning to corral Joel towards the door.
"Regardless, I'd like to see you again in a few days so I can take a look at those stitches," Nick said, and you agreed while pushing a muttering Joel back out into the hallway.
"I'll get you better meds," he said as you both walked out of the infirmary. "I got patrol tomorrow mornin', but I can go out after. There's a small cluster of houses we never did a full sweep on. Maybe-"
"The Tylenol is fine, don't go through the trouble. You could get hurt," you said, shoving the baggie of pills into your pocket.
"Tylenol ain't gonna do shit. I don't want you bein' in pain if there's somethin' we can do about it."
You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to temporarily relieve the ache in your head until you could get home and take one of the pills. You gave Joel a sideways glance, studying him as you walked together. He was brash and rude and aggressive, but you were learning that side of him came out when he was being protective over the ones he loved.
Or when he was trying to hide who he really was.
"So, everyone pitches in around here, right?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "You do patrol. What do I do?"
You paused at a crossroads, trying to remember which way to go, when Joel's hand on your elbow guided you in the right direction.
"You work patrol, too, but you ain't doin' that anymore," he said, letting go of your elbow after holding on for a moment too long.
"Well, obviously. I don't even know how to ride a horse," you said with a snort. "So I guess I need to find a new job, right? Who do I talk to?"
"Why don't you slow down a minute?" Joel said with a chuckle. "Let that pretty little head of yours heal up before you go lookin' for work."
You weren't going to say anything about his comment. Although it took you off guard, you realized he had habits that were going to be hard to ignore and you didn't expect that to happen overnight, but he seemed to realize what he said on his own and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Sorry," he said softly.
"It's okay. I know this is difficult for you," you said, shooting him a sympathetic glance as you climbed his porch steps. He swung open the door and followed you inside, where you made a beeline for a glass of water so you could take one of the pills.
"We got a lotta history, you and me. It's hard to start over," he said as he watched you toss back the Tylenol with a wince. You examined his face closely and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. You leaned forward, forearms resting on the cool countertop before replying.
"Tell me a story."
He raised an eyebrow at you but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up a bit.
"What kinda story?"
"A story about us. You just said we have a lot of history together. Let's hear some of it," you replied with an encouraging smile.
"You sure? Thought you'd wanna go lay down," he said, but he eagerly pulled up a stool across from you.
"I think I can handle one little story," you told him, then watched as he stared down at his hands on top of the counter, deep in thought. When he thought of one, a slow smile spread across his face and his dark brown eyes flicked up to meet yours and you saw that softer side of him again.
"Alright," he said, settling back a bit. "So I told'ya last night how we met."
You cringed, remembering the story of a much bolder and seductive version of yourself, and nodded.
"Well, after that night we started seein' each other for a few weeks. It was just casual, nothin' serious," he said, looking down at his hands again. "I convinced you to sneak around so no one would catch on, and you grew tired of that. Rightfully so. I was bein' an asshole."
You watched him pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his flannel shirt, his eyes still cast down and you were beginning to realize it was due to shame.
"So anyway. One day you came over to, y'know..." he said, and you felt the heat in your cheeks again. "And you confronted me about it head on. Demanded to know why I wanted to keep you a secret. Thought I was ashamed of you - which I wasn't," he said quickly, his eyes finally meeting yours again. "But I had been through a lot of shit and I just didn't think I could give myself to someone like that again."
"What kind of shit?" you asked quietly, but he just lightly shook his head.
"One story at a time," he told you with a sad smile. You chewed on your lower lip as you waited for him to continue, his focus back on the loose string while he collected his thoughts.
"So I explained I had a hard time lettin' people in, that I wasn't capable of carin' 'bout anyone like that anymore, and you said to me, 'I know who you are, Joel Miller. Don't give me that bullshit, you're just scared.'"
He stared into your eyes, letting what he said land and hoping to see a flicker of the woman who spoke those words, but you just continued to look at him, waiting for him to finish the story like it was about somebody else entirely.
"Well, you were right, obviously. You always are," he continued with a smirk. "It knocked me on my ass. And I didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that you knew me better than I knew myself, or someone like you wanted anythin' to do with me in the first place."
You smiled and dropped your gaze to the counter, suddenly feeling shy.
"I'm not saying I don't believe you, but so far, these stories don't sound like me at all," you admitted.
He took a deep breath and finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve.
"A lot's happened in ten years. Stuff that changes people. But I don't care what version of you's here, I love all of you."
You kept your eyes glued to his hands. You wished you could say it back. You knew he wanted to hear it. Maybe one day.
He tapped his finger on the counter, pulling your attention up so you were forced to look him in the eye.
"You fought for me that night, now I'm gonna fight for you, okay?" he said, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded sheepishly, his shoulders relaxed.
"So you're saying I fell in love with you because you were an asshole?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked. Joel laughed heartily and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Nah, you didn't love me then," he said, still smiling.
"So how did I fall in love with you?" you asked, and his tongue clicked against his teeth.
"You're gonna have to wait to find out," he replied with a wink.
Tumblr media
It wasn't his fault, but the rest of the day you could feel Joel looking at you. He was examining you, waiting to see the woman he fell in love with, and the pressure was beginning to be too much, so you made up an excuse to go lay down in his bedroom. He had mentioned he had patrol in the morning. Maybe some time away from him would help you relax.
You stared up at the white ceiling. The distant sound of children laughing outside through the closed window and then the door to the garage swinging open and shut acted as a soundtrack to your overactive thoughts. You almost had to laugh. It felt like your mind was constantly working, churning up information and digesting it only to always come up empty.
Absolutely nothing seemed familiar. Nothing about this place or these people felt like home.
You wished so badly you could remember something. Anything to make you feel like you belonged there. One little shred of hope was all you were looking for.
And then you remembered the journal.
Sitting up in bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and reached over for the black book. You fingers hesitated for a moment on the cover. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but how could that be when it was your own?
Taking a deep breath, you flipped open the journal and began at the beginning.
Right away, you could tell you wrote the entries. There was no doubt in your mind. Aside from your handwriting, your typical disorganization shone through like a beacon on every page. You occasionally remembered to notate in the margin the date, or your best guess at the date, but more often than not you were left with very little context for each small paragraph you read.
You were disappointed to realize the journal seemed to begin after you had met Joel. A big part of you was very eager to learn more about the person you were before finding Jackson, but it seemed as though you would have to depend on others to tell you stories you hopefully had relayed to them in the past.
The first page looked to be a list of items you had jotted down that didn't make much sense, but maybe when you first found the notebook, you hadn't intended to use it as a journal.
Socks, colored pencils, sunflower seeds, cards.
Flipping the page, you skimmed a short paragraph about a cabin you stumbled upon when on patrol. Again, it was more notes than anything of any substance. A description of approximately where it was in relation to Jackson along with a note to 'mention it at the next town hall meeting'.
Finally something interesting on the next page, you read a short paragraph about someone named Maria having a baby girl, and you frowned when you read the line Joel handled it better than I expected.
Continuing on, you read an entry about Christmas: Joel found me the softest sweater, it almost felt brand new. I really don't know how he managed to find it and I described the house I grew up in to Ellie and she drew it perfectly, I can't believe how talented she is.
One paragraph in particular grabbed your attention. It was about two people, and based on the context, it sounded like you were close friends. For the first time since we got here, I had the same day off as Ben and Lisa. We went fishing together and brought a lunch. It felt just like old times. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I miss being out there with them. We made a good team.
Maybe this Ben and Lisa would be able to answer some questions you had about yourself. Based on what you just read, it sounded like they knew you before Jackson.
There was a lot more to read, but the next page stopped you dead in your tracks. Your heart began to beat faster as you stared at the four words. Just one sentence, no explanation. A shiver slowly trickled down your spine as you sat there, unmoving, as your vision narrowed on the page: Joel lied to me.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
800 notes · View notes
plasticferal · 1 month
Text
keeping score | matt & chris sturniolo.
prologue: 'they say love is the sixth sense that destroys all other five senses’
authors notes: 1.9k, explicit language, reader discretion is advised. welcome to my first series, please enjoy the ride.
Tumblr media
they both want you. the only way matt and chris can agree to settle who wins is through competition, one where you’re the prize. your own heart is torn between the two brothers. the thing is though, love doesn’t keep score.
they have two very different experiences to offer. two sides of the same coin. a coin you refuse you flip and settle on.
matt is the first to catch your eye in any room. he makes you nervous. butterflies, stuttering, awkward laughs, stuttering over your words. all of it. you like him. you’re unsure if he feels the same toward you.
however, you also like chris. the compliments he showers you in, the subtle flirting, the way he softens his tone around you, how giving he is, the way he’s so shamelessly himself. the list goes on. he’s different. 
it’s a weird triangle of intrigue and unrequited feelings that lingers and is never acknowledged.
you’re already convinced it’ll never happen. with either of them. you’d be putting too much at risk considering how deeply you value your friendship before anything else. the fear of falling in love, and losing them both. 
which might just be your karma for being into both brothers. 
they occupy the living room. you’re upstairs, using nick’s bed to take a nap while he showers, and he takes long showers. he’s always given you a safe space in the house, to make it feel like home. 
you love to annoy chris and matt by stealing their clothes, blankets, soft drinks out of the fridge, tagging along to every late night drive and fast food pick up. 
they share everything with you, but you designate yourself in nicks’s room as to not stir up any terrible, rash decisions on your accord.
being fast asleep and tangled up in crisp, cold, silk sheets, it’s a deep sleep. completely escaping into your dreams.
you’re left unaware of the chaos that’s about to ensue in the living room between the two brothers who occupy your mind. chaos is the score in which reality is written upon.
“you like y/n, right?” matt asks chris. 
you’ve had a strange feeling for a while now that matt is trying to set you up with his brother. which, as flattering as it is, it’s bittersweet. 
matt is sinking lazily into the lounge while scrolling through his phone, on the furthest left. chris is on the furthest right with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. 
they’re in direct view of each other on the L shaped couch. not in a literal sense, just in proximity. neither brother is actually looking up from a screen of some kind.
“what?” chris snaps his head toward matt, diverting from the television for a moment. 
“just answer the question.” matt huffs.
“of course i like y/n. she’s the closest person in our life besides like, nick” chris shrugs, going to look back at the screen again. 
matt groans in disappointment at his response. 
“you know i don’t mean it like that.” matt sits up slightly, readjusting his position and posture.
“god here we go again.” chris runs a hand down his face, fearing his brother's next words. 
“how do you really feel about her?” matt pries. 
unusual for him. out of character even, chris is usually the one who needs to know everything all the time, and is never afraid to ask the hard hitting questions, as annoying as it may be. but not with this topic of conversation.
the difference is, chris does it because he’s genuinely curious. matt asks questions for his own selfish reason, to chris’s oblivion. 
chris needs reassurance that he’s making the right decision in not pursuing you. matt needs to know if or when he’s going to have to compete. little does he know that time is nearing. 
“man, i don’t know. i just- i like her. can’t we leave it at that?” chris’s tone is anguished. 
“you’re avoiding the question-”
“i answered your question!” chris cuts matt off before he can fully form his sentence, and matt’s jaw tightens. 
“fine, whatever.” matt waves his hands in the air with defeat before diverting back to his phone, leaving chris to linger on his words.
“i’m never gonna make a move. i know how you feel about her, too.” chris huffs, as though he’s annoyed at the response he’s had to give.
“what’d you mean?” matt gives chris a glare, like he’s daring his next words.
“you know exactly what i fuckin’ mean” chris scoffs, shifting in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling the sleeves of his gray hoodie past his knuckles.
matt takes a loud inhale through his nose and exhales through his mouth 
“we can’t just keep pretending that we both don’t want her.” matt drops his phone onto his stomach face down, being slightly slumped. 
“i’ve been fine pretending” chris throws the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to hide his eyes more from matt, a natural reaction to not enjoying the grilling. 
“well if you don’t make a move, i will.” matt’s tone is serious.
“you wouldn’t.” chris deadpans, a sincere tone of disbelief seeping from his lip that he’s now biting the corner of.
“you’ve been saying you’re gonna make a move forever and haven’t done shit."
he knows it’s not nice, but there’s something about the lack of passion from chris despite the obvious crush just makes matt's skin crawl. if someone is going like you and not do anything about it, matt is more than willing to shoot his shot, give you what you deserve. 
“that’s not fair” chris twists his face, glaring at his brother. 
"i think it’s more than fair play at this point, kid.” matt scoffs.
if looks could kill, matt would be dead.
all those times you’ve perceived matt bringing up chris to entice you have just been a ploy to gauge how both of you feel. he knows it’s manipulative, but no harm, no foul.
the worst part is, chris isn’t actually even sure he wants a relationship. he’s infatuated by you, undoubtedly. matt on the other hand would marry you with a paper ring. 
they’re both scared of their own feelings, and the intentions that might come along with them. they don’t ever want to hurt you, but their carnal desire is misleading their moral compass.
“alright then,” chris starts, matt’s words hitting a nerve for him. he slaps his hands onto his thighs and sits up in his spot. 
“how do we settle this? who gets her?” chris continues, staring at his brother intently now.
“i don’t think we get to make that decision.” matt shakes his head, bringing his hand to his mouth as he begins to bite his nails, which muffles his words.
“you’re right, we don’t. but we’re gonna have to compete for it to even be an option.”
“compete” matt repeats chris’s words with a sour huff, a slight arrogance in the sense that he doesn’t view his brother as a threat. 
not when it comes to you, and there might be a small part of that statement that’s correct. you have a sweet spot for matt, which fires up chris even more. he is conscious that he’s the underdog, as much as you try to show an even amount of attention to the both of them.
“what’s wrong? you scared you’ll lose?” chris taunts. 
“that’s the least of my worries.” matt scoffs, his mind traveling down every possible path this terrible idea could go down. 
“fine, then you won’t be afraid of a little competition.” chris says nonchalantly, pushing back with the same energy matt’s been giving, turning the tables.
“what’s your plan here? we just tally up the moments we get with her until someone wins? to boost our own egos?” matt speaks with his hands.
“i do love to have my ego stroked” chris grins to himself, the thought of you crossing his mind as the words leave his mouth. his train of thought tends to wonder easily.
“seriously, chris, how do we plan on settling this?” matt rubs his hands together, like the action you do when you’re trying to stay warm. 
“i think there’s only one answer to that.” chris responds, in a “duh” tone, without explicitly sharing what’s on his mind.
their sixth sense of being able to unpack each other's minds sparks like an electrical fault in the moment. of course, neither of them hate the thought of getting you in bed. they just hate the thought of you being unaware. 
somehow it’s more challenging than falling in love, or securing a relationship. betting to sleep with you is actually the hardest challenge of them all, let alone covering all the bases in order to attain it. 
the intimacy, the intensity of it all. it just seems so unattainable. it requires them, and you, to be completely and utterly vulnerable. 
“that seems kind of, objectifying.” matt shifts his demeanour, ironic considering he sparked the conversation. 
“it wouldn’t be a competition without a challenge.” chris acknowledges, and unfortunately for the both of them, he’s right. 
“this sounds so fucked up” matt says, running his hand through his scruffy hair.
“first brother to five points takes all. all of her.” chris speaks, confidently setting up the challenge. 
essentially their plan is to see who can get the closest to you, and let the other brother suffer in watching it happen. which occurs points. loser has to back off of you completely. unless someone gets to you first, in which case all their hard work flies out the window. they won’t be making it easy for each other.
“points won’t matter when i get her into bed first.” matt’s smug, knowing it’ll make chris go insane. 
“so i take it that you’re up for the challenge?” chris ignores matt’s words with a prompt, because if he doesn’t disregard it, he’ll lash out. 
matt considers it. at least he acts like he does. he knows his answer. if he wants you, if either of them do, they have no choice but to compete. neither of them are sure if it’s love or lust, but they’re about to find out. 
they are certain of one thing though. they like everything about you. the way you look. the way you smell. the way you sound. they know exactly why they want you. it’s the first time ever someone has been able to grab the attention of both brothers. hence the severity of the agreement.
“when do we start keeping score?” matt responds, and that’s all the reassurance chris needs in his brothers answer. 
as if on command, you trudge down the stairs in a sleepy state. their eyes snap toward you simultaneously, and you blink repeatedly to make sure you’re seeing them right. 
you are their favorite part of every day, so it’s not out of the ordinary for them to acknowledge your entrance, but you can feel the intensity of their eyes on you with a different energy. 
with foggy vision still clearing as you rub your heavy, tired eyes, you let a small yawn escape. they both melt at the sight, despite you feeling like you’re in your least desirable state. 
you’re not even paying attention to their back and forth bickering. the sound of their voices muffling through your ears. whatever it is they’re saying, they’re not saying it loud enough for you to hear before you even make it down the stairs.
“now.” chris states, eyes snapping back at his brother as they both raise off the lounge.
all is fair in love and war.
tag list: @luverboychris @floofparker @fake-sturniolos @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @mattsneezing @mattslolita @breeloveschris @rootbeerworshiper @mattstattoo @mxqdii @tay-laaaaa @pettydollie @lacysturniolo @annamcdonalds67 @landrysflannel @goandcomebsck @sleepysturnss @call-me-ninaaa @lustfulslxt @txssvx
556 notes · View notes
gwenlore · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
♡☆ KEEP IT ON THE DOWN-LOW☆♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
matt sturniolo x reader (based on this request)
word count: 1.1k
(NOT PROOFREAD!!)
tags-@xyzstar @iliterallydontexistlol @wenvierismycomfort @ssturniolo @frankenstein101 @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @222-lia @gabbylovesreading @aliciacat20
let me know if you want to be added or removed < 3
A/N: i literally wrote this for the wrong person the first time HELP, but tysm for the requested it was so cutesy! i think i like this one but we'll see! enjoy loves&lt;3
Tumblr media
You, Nick, Chris, and Matt were all lying on the triplet’s couch watching as the credits scene of nice guys rolls onto their TV screen. You were placed on Matt's lap with your head resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around your back slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine in a calming manner. You smiled into his chest before you hear nick say,
“Fuck this, i’m bored now, what do you wanna do?” 
You laugh at him before responding with a half hearted shrug. You guys sat in silence for a minute, all of you trying to think of something, anything, to do. 
“What about a board game?” matt says 
“What are we, 50?” Nick rolls his eyes
“fuck you, im just trying to give some ideas,” matt scoffs. 
“What if we go live or something,” Chris suggests.
“ohh yeah!” you say excitedly.
“yeah sure,” Nick agrees.
“I'm down,” Matt nods.
Matt pats your leg, silently signaling for you to get up. You hastily move off of his lap, crossing your legs beside him.
You see, you haven’t exactly told people that you were dating Matt. It was partially because both of you were trying your best to avoid getting hate about the two of you being together. You knew that you could handle the hate though, you had been getting it for a couple of years after all. You and the triplets have been best friends ever since Elementary school, and you guys were inseparable since the 1st grade. Then around 8 months ago you and Matt started dating and you’ve never been happier.  You’ve made an appearance in quite a few videos. People definitely knew who you were to say the least. Even though you and Matt hide your relationship pretty well, people still catch the “glances” that you and Matt send each other.
-
“Jesus these guys can make an edit out of anything.” you told him one night, when you saw an edit of you and Matt making eye contact with the song heart to heart by mac demarco playing over it. 
-
“Nick can you go get me a Pepsi,” chris whines.
“No bitch get it yourself, i’m not your servant,”
Chris groans and uses all of his left over body strength to pull his body off of the couch. Matt pulls his phone out of his back pocket and pulls up instagram and clicks some buttons allowing him to go live. And before you knew it 12k people had already joined.  
“Hey guys,” Chris says from the kitchen as he opens the fridge door grabbing a pepsi from inside. 
Chris made his way back to the couch and plopped himself down, right next to Matt. Nick goes to stand behind the couch that you three were sitting on and waves to the camera. 
You copy Nick's actions and say hi. As soon as people realized that you were with them comments started to pour in ten times faster. 
antonia_34 HELP she’s always there 😭
ilove(wo)men OMGG Y/N MY QUEEN
idkifrogot nah there's no way they’re not dating 💀
jackchampsgf they’re all lowkey kinda hot
hotpotato what are you guys doing up it’s like 2am
i’mchrizz i ship them so much lol
You both look at each other for a second and start to giggle, eventually the giggles turn into you guys laughing so hard you were almost crying.
“Alright, let’s calm down now,” Nick says, taking the phone from Matt's hands and going on a long rant about how there was a “creepy ass” bird that flew into the vans windshield the other day. You guys spend another 20 minutes on the live doing random stuff and talking about whatever topic comes to mind. At one point you ended up hanging off Chris' back with his hands holding your legs making sure you didn't fall. He ran and jumped around the house carrying you upside down on his shoulders as you screamed for him to put you down. (AN i'm pretty sure i did a shitty job explaining this so just go to 0:40 on this video to see what he was kind of doing cause i got the idea from big hero 6 💀 https://youtu.be/JpUPv4B-pxQ) 
Chris had let you let you down so now all four of you were in the kitchen answering questions that the chat had for you guys. there were countless that asked you the same thing over and over and over again, are y/n and Matt dating? you both had decided to ignore that question for now. 
“Okay guys we’re gonna end the live, see you later,” Matt said yawning.
“Bye,” Nick and Chris said simultaneously.
“Love you!” you said excitedly blowing the viewers a kiss. 
Matt ended the live and made his way back to the couch face planting into the cushions making sure you knew he was tired. 
“Someone needs their sleep,” you laugh
“I think I need some too,” Chris groans walking up to his room. “Night!” He yells
“Good night, Chris,” you say back. 
“I’m gonna stay and edit for a bit,” Nick tells you.
“Alright, I think we’re gonna go to bed.”
“Yes please,” Matt mumbles into the pillows
you smile and shake your head. 
“Don’t stay up all night, Nick,” You say. You pull Matt’s head up and cup his cheeks in your hands. “I think it’s time to go, hmm?”
Matt just nods in response so you hold out your hands for him to grab onto, and pull on them to help him stand up. Once you get to Matt’s room he slumps onto your back as you open the door.
“Matt!” 
“mhmm?”
you drag him over to his bed and jump next to him. He instantly snaked his hands around your waist and nestled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a soft kiss there.
“i think they’re onto us,” you grin
“who?” Matt asks confused
“your fans”
“Well then maybe we should tell them soon,” you hear Matt say against your neck.
“awe, but I like it like this! we have a sort of, will they won't they vibe,” you whisper into Matt’s hair. He pulls his head away from your neck looking up at you to give you puppy dog eyes. “Soon though,” you smile softly.
Matt smirks and gives you a quick kiss, then shoves his head into your neck once more.
1K notes · View notes
peterthepark · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
so damn into you
pairing: eddie munson x cheerleader!reader
tags: 18+ graphic smut, mature content, piv, dirty talk, established fwb, swearing, rough sex, ring kink and spanking, mentions of drugs, squirting, choking, throat fucking
summary: good girls stay out of trouble. bad girls invite rockstars like eddie munson into their bedroom and fuck secretly behind closed doors. there’s something different about your dynamic though, and you’re starting to think it isn’t just the sex.
notes: title references so damn into you by vlad holiday! enjoy :)
Tumblr media
There seems to be this forbidden rule in the crowded halls of Hawkins High that runs till this day. It’s funny, truly, how the concepts behind cliques have such a serious hold over your fellow senior classmates. The idea that cliques can’t mix, can’t intermingle, or — hell — can’t even fucking look at each other because a glance meant absolutely everything drives you crazy.
Especially when you liked breaking the rules.
Especially when you liked looking at him.
Him with his shaggy hair, those big doe-eyes with that familiar sparkle of mischief that always had you smiling behind your locker whenever he’d saunter by, him with his obvious double takes of boyish desire in the cafeteria whenever you’d walk past in that tiny little skirt to go sit with the cheer squad as if you didn’t know each other at all, him and the way he stares at you after school, crossing his arms across his chest while he leans up against his van and counts the minutes till he can touch you.
Those eyes were always only for you. Always you. Always him. And yet, always behind closed doors, out of sight, forever in your mind, because the connection between an innocent cheerleader and the mirthful leader of the freakish Hellfire Club would be deemed the semester’s next controversial topic aside from that recurring rumor that Chrissy Cunningham does cocaine in the girls’ bathroom.
Not true, by the way. It’s definitely weed.
The twenty-year old senior has a reputation far different from yours, an accumulation of all the negative remarks people seem to implode upon him for his extreme love of D&D, overachieving rock band and his late highschool graduation. 
Although, if someone were to accuse you of having sex with Eddie Munson on a regular basis? You’d be totally screwed. Surely, something with a lack of seriousness couldn’t be so problematic? Sex with no feelings. One-hundred percent, to the core, consensual sex, filthy and forward with zero emotions implied. 
A fling, who you’d let tear you apart anytime and any day.
A fling that leaves you not just weak in the knees but… fuck. That’s all it is: a fling. Right?
So when Eddie shows up at your bedroom window with autumn-colored leaves in his hair and a shit-eating grin, the palpitations in your achy heart tell you otherwise. You don’t exchange many words, moreso just usher him inside and gently shut the latch behind him as if your entire manic spiel of avoiding each other’s houses hadn’t mattered at all anymore.
At this point, nothing matters. Except him. He always does. Especially now, when he’s hauling himself off of that little bench by your windowsill and nearly face-planting into the carpet with how he ungracefully maneuvers his taller frame into your arms for the millionth time this week. You’re careful not to make too much sound, giggling like children as Eddie’s boots thump against your flooring.
“Sorry. Sorry.” Eddie whispers with twitchy lips, scratching the nape of his neck bashfully as he adjusts to the midnight darkness of your small bedroom. “I know I’m late, but I had this really, really important campaign earlier and those shitheads Dustin and Mike needed a ride home, so I didn’t want to just leave them hanging which is why…”
You interrupt him with an overdue kiss to the lips, caressing his flushed cheeks as his outgoing hand gestures come to a halt and instinctively make their way down your soft sides. You slowly ease your tongue into his mouth, his large palm splaying over your jaw as he draws you closer to him. 
“Well, hello to you too, sweetheart.” Eddie quips playfully. 
You pull away shyly, wiping the smeared gloss from your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Sorry. Artificial strawberry.”
He hums in approval, smacking his lips together. “Tastes sweet. You know, actually reminds me of something…”
“Oookay, you can stop right there.” 
“I was gonna say your…”
You glare at him, “Eddie.” 
“Fine.” He rubs your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, remnants of a chuckle falling upon his features as the moonlight dances through your curtains. “Y’know, your lips are always so soft, so… fucking delicate — how do you do that? Jesus Christ, you smell really — fuck, you smell really good right now.”
You twirl one of his unruly curls around your digit, batting your lashes up at him as you pout with feigned innocence. “All fresh and clean from a shower.”
Eddie’s brows shoot upwards in amusement at your suggestion, “I can change that.” 
“Really?” You gnaw on the inside of your mouth, feeling his hand dip lower and lower on your back as you instinctively arch into him. “Why? Feeling filthy?”
He holds your cheek, palm spreading across your blemished skin as he stares into your eyes. “Everytime I’m with you, all I am is filthy.” His lips twitch humorously. “You turn me into an absolute horndog, what can I say? Short skirts, knee-high socks, and you know I go a little crazy for those black converse.”
“Converse turns you on?” You snicker, nearly yelping aloud when the backs of your knees finally hit the edge of your king-sized bed and you catch yourself against the springy mattress. 
You look up to Eddie, jaw falling open as he thumbs at your bottom lip. His tall shadow is far from menacing, but surely intimidating as he smiles toothily down at your frame. “You’re so silly, converse doesn’t turn me on. But, hey, you know what does, though?” He sighs out through his nostrils, using his other hand to card through your scalp and tilt your head back. “Mmm, look at me.”
“I am.” You gulp loudly.
“Look harder, Y/N.” You want him to swallow you whole. Right there, with that look, the intensity of his gaze and the dominant stature of his skilled hands molding and melting into your body. “You know what turns me on? The thought of having fucked you in nothing but those converse, back in my van, just a few days ago. You must remember, hm?” 
You clench your thighs together at the recollection.
“I remember, alright.” You hold his stare, feeling his thumb dip a bit further into your mouth. “Came home smelling like sex and weed. My cheer uniform… all sticky and gross.”
“And you liked it… because the next day, you still smelled like my van. Meaning…” Eddie hooks his finger against the corner of your lip, before pulling away and putting the glistening digit against his own tongue. “You slept without washing me off you, little lady.” He hums in approval when you shut your eyes. “Hawkins’ perfect angel of a cheerleader, such a good fucking girl that surely no one in this small town would suspect that she’s actually just a slut for my cock…”
You whimper, tucking your chin to your chest as a rush of heat pulses through your cunt. “F-Fucking hell…” 
“With the mouth of an actual sailor, by the way.” He shrugs almost dorkily, “But, god, do I love that mouth.” His hand slips to the nape of your neck, fingers gripping the soft skin before he starts to breathe heavily and blink rapidly. “Shit, can I kiss you?”
You don’t even answer, just nod and awkwardly rise from the bed to meet Eddie’s lips halfway — your knees are buckling beneath you from the weight of him against you, his plump lips velvety and familiar as his tongue explores your wet mouth. 
You try to be more resigned, knowing that flaunting your neediness would only stroke Eddie’s already-growing ego. But your older classmate has learned to see right through whatever facade you use to convince yourself that you’re immune to him. 
This current dynamic is different from when you first slept together.
You’ve grown bolder, he’s taken note of that. Especially in public, you like to stare. A minute turns into two, two turns into a couple glances that are too shit to be even called subtle, and glances turn into objectifying stares at his hands or rings, his lap, and sometimes even the ink on his arms.
Eddie gets off on it more than he should.
He finds pleasure in breaking your little good-girl cheerleader act, knowing that his unholy influence is seeping right through the cracks of your misleading halo.
But you’ve also grown tender to one another. Eddie knows there’s still that awful rift between your differing sides of highschool, but sometimes your company means more than just sex to him. He feels… wanted, seen, sure of himself, because a pretty woman like you probably wouldn’t hang out with anyone like him if he wasn’t someone of good substance. 
And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t only sex. Because on the afternoons you’d sit in his van, he sometimes wouldn’t even think about what was underneath that cheer uniform. Fuck the uniform, he could listen to you and your animated self talk for ages, watching how your bright smile spreads across your cheeks and your kind eyes light up with enthusiasm as you tell him about your day. 
He knows he’s screwing himself over for the long run.
“I’m still sore, just so you know.” You whisper brokenly against his lips, clutching a fistful of his leather jacket. “I had to skip last practice because I really couldn’t walk straight.”
Eddie moans wantonly at the confession, covering up his whiny tone with a stifled cough. “Oh, that’s a shame.”
“It really is.” 
“Let’s make it happen again, then.” He grins, winking at you before he’s settling you down onto the bed. He rests on his knees between your spread legs, chin jutted out as he studies how your arms lay out over your pretty head. “Fuck, you’re so cute like this.”
You scoff, glad that the darkness can mask your flustered expression. “M’not doing anything.” 
Eddie tosses his jacket to the side, baring a plain white tee. “No, you aren’t. It’s just adorable seeing how all innocent and put-together you look right before I fuck you.” 
You gasp when he roughly tugs you closer to him by the slope of your calf, hooking your leg over his shoulder and pervertedly watching the way your shorts ride up your thigh from the new angle. 
“Take a picture,” You breathe out, moaning quietly as Eddie kisses along your exposed skin and brushes his mouth against your ankle. “It’ll last longer.”
“I have enough pictures back at home.” He smirks devilishly with a shrug, and you can’t help but laugh knowing that he’s absolutely right. Shoebox of polaroids and other things hidden under his bed. Classic move. “None of them are as good as the real deal right here, sweetheart.”
Eddie sets your leg down from his shoulder, gently skimming his hand over the faint lovebites across your thigh before he’s helping you out of your oversized shirt and shorts. Both look two sizes too big on you, but either way, he still finds it sexy. His palms hover over the naked swell of your breasts, fingertips barely running across your hard nipples as the cool air of your bedroom hits your chest. 
Your apparent lack of bra is coupled with a pair of lacy boyshort panties, a little ripped by the waistband, but Eddie honestly doesn’t care (he can do a lot more damage than some wear and tear). He admires how it hugs your hips perfectly, cheeky from the back and nearly teases him with how it drapes over your ass before the cloth disappears between your luscious thighs.
“Touch me.” You pout, tucking his hair behind his ear. 
He grins. “So eager, let me take you in. Don’t rush it.”
“Mmm, okay. Whatever you say, dungeon master.” A giggle escapes your throat, sweet and innocent, and not at all mischievous. His nostrils flare, eyes dilating into the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen him sport. “Does… that turn…? Oh, my god, it does!”
He pushes your shoulder playfully, sneaking a glance at the way your breasts jiggle from the movement. “Shut up.”
“Okay, I thought it was a joke.”
Eddie winces. “You’re kinkshaming right now, you know that?”
You bite back your widening smile, and take it upon yourself to hook your arms behind his neck as you clamber onto his lap. “I think it’s kinda hot.”
“You’re a horrible liar, Y/N.”
“Oh, please fuck me, dungeon master.” You draw a laugh out of Eddie, stroking his flushed cheeks as he finally finds the courage to lock eyes with you again. “Show me who’s boss. Come on.”
Eddie hisses when you grind yourself against his denim-clad thigh, suddenly a reminder of his aching hard-on. “You’re a fucking whore.”
“Okay, now you’re just telling me qualities about myself that I already know.” You nudge your nose against his, entranced by the image of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So? Are you gonna fuck me like the whore you think I am?”
Eddie’s hands squeeze the fleshiness of your ass, rings cold against your bottom before a hot sting starts to crawl over your skin. 
He spanked you, and you’re certain that his ornate jewelry has left an angry mark that’ll appear in the morning.
“No need for me to think when I already know.” He whispers, before he’s pulling his shirt over his wild head of hair and flinging the ball of fabric at you. You catch it before it can hit you in the face, tossing it back at Eddie with a giggly hmph! that makes both of you lose your balance.
The sudden motion combined with your bodies at the edge of the bed sends you tumbling onto the carpet, limbs hitting the floor with a foreshadowing of bruises. You both wince at the loud thud that echoes throughout the house, and Eddie’s thankful that your family is full of deep sleepers — a theory that he hates to say has been tested out before.
“Are you okay?” He laughs, propping himself up on a pale elbow as he cups a hand over his twitchy mouth. You both erupt into hearty chuckles, muffling your amusement behind your forearm.
You groan, rubbing your boob. “Peachy.” 
“Mmm, I’m sorry. Listen, I can make it better.” Eddie crawls over to you, spreading your thighs apart with an expert knee as he hovers over you. “I know a couple tricks.”
“If you’re that horny, you could’ve just told me.” He watches the careful rise and fall of your breasts, taking in the suppleness of your abdomen and the slight arch in your back against the floorboards.
He bends over you, slowly mouthing at the space above your navel before his large hands travel up your stomach and knead at your tits. Your mouth falls open, nothing but the ghost of a moan leaving your throat as Eddie pinches your nipples and runs his tongue up your middle. The hot muscle immediately finds one of your breasts, taking the pebbled skin between his lips before he tends to your other hardened nipple. 
You card a shaky hand through his curls, taking a gentle handful and guiding his head to that sweet spot beneath your jaw. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” Eddie whispers, pecking the underside of your chin before he’s trailing his lips over that vein in your neck. “Can I tell you something?” You hum, lashes fluttering against your cheek as Eddie nips at your earlobe with a knowing grin. “I’m so fucking horny, I just wanna take you from behind on this floor. Is that what you wanted to hear from me, Y/N? God, is that alright? Me eating you out right here, me fucking your mouth till you’re just drooling, then me cumming inside your little pussy? Is that okay with you, sweet girl?”
You squirm beneath him, pleading with your eyes as he pins your wrists over your head. “Y-Yes, Eddie. I… fuck, yes. Please.” His teeth make contact with your neck, a tiny pinch drawing a needy groan out of you before his tongue swipes across your pulse point and soothes the bite mark he’s left. “Wanna feel good.”
Eddie kneels back and sighs out desperately, puffing his hair away from his face as he guides your hand and runs it over his torso. You bite your lip as goosebumps form under your compelling touch, his faint abs flexing against your palm as you skim over his happy trail and make straight for the tattoo near his collarbone.
“You can be quiet for me, can’t you?” He inquires, his voice dripping with desire. You nod instantly, and Eddie almost laughs at how quickly your head bobs in agreement. “That’s a good girl. Help me out of this, yeah? Can’t let me stay here and do all the work.” He gestures at his heavy belt buckle and distressed jeans, smiling cattily as your fingers eagerly run his belt out of the loops and pop the button of his pants. “Fuck, feel how hard I am.”
You sit up and press your hand against the thick outline of his clothed cock, mewling at the feeling as Eddie’s eyes light up with an immediate burst of ego. 
“Don’t let it get to your head, Munson.”
“Honestly? It’s all going straight to my dick.” He huffs, throwing his head back as you kiss him through his boxers. The tone of his voice changes instantly once you start to palm him, lips massaging the tip of his leaking prick through the fabric, “Shit, fuck, o-okay… you know what, I’ve been edging myself this entire day, and I really don’t wanna get walked in on so if you could… just… hell, if I could fuck your throat like right now… please, I’m dying to be inside you.”
“God, you really are horny tonight.” You laugh teasingly, pulling the waistband of his boxers past his hips. “What’s gotten into you, rockstar? Is it the whole dungeon master thing?”
“Oh, my god. You need to shut the fuck up.” He hisses playfully, scooting forward until his hard cock is aligned with your parting mouth. “Getting off on my embarrassment is so not funny, Y/N.”
He doesn’t hesitate to shove the reddened tip right between your lips, and you immediately salivate at the weight of him on your tongue. Waiting has never been Eddie’s strong suit, always too eager, and you seem to take it as impatience when really, he’s yearning to be as close to you as possible. 
“Mmm… E-Eddie!” You whimper around him, using your fist to fuck the base of his cock while you suckle on his aching head. 
He inhales deeply, placing his hand on the back of your head. “Look at you, baby. C’mon, suck me off. You know exactly how to do it. Had to teach you in the library bathroom that one time, didn’t I?” His hips instinctively buck up into you, pushing his length further into your mouth. The tip of your nose is pressed up against the groomed tuft of dark curls by his lower abdomen, inhaling the scent of his manhood as Eddie guides your head up and down his dick. “Fuck, and you were such a f-fast learner, too. Weren’t you? Can I go a bit harder, sweetheart?”
Your face scrunches up into pleasure when Eddie’s hand dips between your thighs, cold rings skimming over the damp crotch of your panties before you’re widening your legs and opening your jaw even more for him. 
He tightens his hold on the back of your head, fingers stroking your scalp as he keeps you in place and his hips rhythmically meet your mouth. Saliva starts to roll down your chin, a trail of wetness making its way past your flexing neck as Eddie fucks your warm throat. 
“Damn it, Y/N, you’re taking it so well. You love it when I fuck your throat like this? Filthy thing, tsk tsk. What would your little cheer team say? Their favorite member… s-shit, getting her throat fucked by an awful boy like me in her own bedroom. You gonna tell ‘em how much you enjoy getting corrupted by me?”
You scratch at his inked thighs, clasping a hand over the backside of his knee to draw him nearer. His jeans hang haphazardly low on his hips, the front slick from the spit dripping off your knuckles and the mess that spills over the corners of your lips. 
Eddie finds pleasure in your humiliation, in fact, it’s what keeps his cock begging for more. 
So, when you quickly pull away from him and blink away the tears from your sparkling eyes to utter your next words, he’s practically begging for sweet release.
“Want you to be rougher with me tonight. Please, Eds.”
“How rough?” His brow quirks upwards, a taunting smirk tugging at his mouth. “Like… fuck you till you can’t walk kind-of-rough? Slap you in the face? Spank you till your gorgeous ass is just… covered in — fuck — bruises?“ He drags the tip of his prick along your cheek, moaning at how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling and a shaky sigh leaves your body. “Choke you till your neck is covered with the outline of my rings? What, so you can show up to school tomorrow and flaunt it for everyone to gawk at like the fucking dumbasses they are? Can’t figure out who’s been railing the pretty cheerleader, can’t they?”
You whine at his loaded words, avoiding eye contact when his fingers find the underside of your loose jaw. His touch is a stark contrast to the tone of his voice. “Need you so bad.”
Eddie begs to differ. He needs you more. Needs to be buried inside you and never leave, just an endless night of wild, uncoordinated sex like horny rabbits — so believe him when he says he needs this more.
“Where do you want me?”
A pout forms on your lips as you intertwine your hand with his and drag it towards your mound. “Here.”
Eddie coos, splaying a hand over your stomach. “Lay back then, baby. I’ll go easy. Promise.” You send him an unconvinced look, watching as he finds solace in the space between your thighs and flops onto his stomach. “What’s up with that face?”
You roll your eyes, gesturing at him as he hooks his ringed thumbs over your boyshorts and pulls. “And by easy you mean… make me cum on your tongue like fifty gazillion times till I’m begging for mercy.”
He pauses in contemplation, before letting out a sound of agreement and pursing his lips. “Sounds ‘bout right. You never seem to really complain though.” You swear your vision blurs when Eddie flattens his digit along your folds, teasing your poor hole with gentle swirls. “My sweet Y/N, it seems that you’re already soaking wet.”
“I can’t help it. Rings off, by the way.”
Eddie playfully frowns, making haste to rid himself of his silver ornaments. “Watch these for me.” You moan when he lines the cold jewelry straight along your navel, “And keep still.” He says. “Wouldn’t want these little babies all over the floor.”
You look down at him from where you lay, hands reaching for him as his steady breaths fan over your pulsing cunt. The placement of his rings on your belly feels incredibly sexual, like a signature on your body that belonged to Eddie. Every tiny movement you make causes the silver to shift just a little bit, so when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you have to stop yourself from thrashing out in satisfaction.
But something about the way Eddie looks at you from between your thighs, his moans buried in your own folds, just makes you want to leap up and take him right there. 
Maybe you don’t give him enough credit for his restraint.
He continues to flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves, testing out your sensitivity and relearning the perfect amount of pressure when he suckles on your clit. He drags his hands down your outer thighs, gripping the soft flesh with a newfound hunger.
“Fuck, E-Eddie… feels nice. God, I love your mouth, you’re so — so good with it, baby.” 
“Yeah? Fucking tastes delicious. Could eat your pussy out everyday.” He chuckles sneakily. “Maybe even take you to-go. Lick you up whenever I need a snack.”
You whimper, balling your hands into fists in his hair when he slips a long finger inside you. “Perv.” 
“Simply a man speaking his mind, Y/N.” Eddie’s digit slowly curls into you, making an embarrassing wet and sopping sound that draws a whiny groan out of him. “Christ, you really are wet. Fucking hell, babe.”
Babe.
That’s a first. 
Eddie adds another finger, the soft heel of his palm is pressed roughly against your clit as he rocks his hand into you. Your cunt grips around him tightly, pulling him in further with every stroke that brushes against your contracting walls. He nibbles on your inner thigh while gauging your reaction, dreamily gazing up at you with those huge eyes as he fucks you with his slender fingers.
“Eds, please. Mmm… f-fuck, I’m… fuck!” You grit your teeth to muffle the sounds of your broken moans, the rings laid out on your stomach nearly toppling over as your hips jolt up. “You fill me up so well, your fingers are so — fuck, please. Please just fuck me.”
“Oh, such a dirty mouth.” He hums in amusement, grinning as he uses his other hand to massage your clit. “At least give me one orgasm. Just one, baby. You know I love making you cum more than once. You deserve it, deserve cumming over and over again like the pretty girl you are.”
His hand snaps into you faster, your juices coating his palm as you start to drip all over him. His digits are embarrassingly slick, and you quickly feel the rush of your climax approaching from his gentle words.
“I’m — I’m close, just please… please keep touching me like that. Gonna… gonna cum.” 
A smile spreads across his face, “Yeah? Keep beggin’ for it. Show me how much you want it. Need some convincing.”
“Please, please let me cum. I’m so — Eddie, want you so bad. Please make me cum so I can… fuck, so I can have your cock inside me already.” 
“Only because you said so, sweet thing.”
You share a look. Longing. Need. Lust. 
Then Eddie is fucking his fingers knuckle-deep into you, relentless and unstopping, a sensation so overwhelming that you don’t even know you’re cumming until Eddie is pointing out how you’ve wet the carpet. 
“Did you just…” Your mouth falls open in disbelief, breasts heaving as he pulls his fingers from your cunt. 
He grins toothily. The smug bastard. “Make you squirt? Hell-fucking-yeah.” Eddie leans over you, capturing your lips in a celebratory kiss that feels all too tender. “That was so goddamn hot. Christ, I could cream my pants.”
“You’re so lame.” You laugh, pushing his shoulder gently before he’s pecking either side of your cheek.
“Lame? Does lame make a girl squirt? I don’t think so. I’m cool-lame. Watch, I’ll make you squirt again.”
“In your dreams, Munson.”
He slips his boots off, pushing the rest of his jeans down and kicks it to the side. “Get on your knees.”
You send him a challenging look, raising your brows with a smirk. “If I don’t?”
“Guess I can just do this, then.” You yelp as Eddie flips you onto your stomach. His rings clatter loudly to the floorboards, flying in all different directions as he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. A heavy sigh leaves his mouth, and you glance back at him with sudden concern. “Fuck… condom?”
“Just pull out.”
“Just… pull… out?”
You shrug, making a confused face. “Yeah, I’ll pop something in the morning.”
“Y/N, honey, have you ever been to this thing called… I don’t know, sex-ed?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and you would’ve laughed had you not noticed his extremely hard cock waiting in his hand.
“Honestly, I’m more of a hands-on learner.”
“Oh, are you now?”
“Most definitely. You’d know.”
“You sure you want me to pull out? We can just stop right here if you don’t wanna keep going.”
You bite your lip, eyeing him over your shoulder with a half-lidded gaze. “I wanna keep going.”
“Down you go then, Y/N. Fuck, let me see you.” His hand comes down on the middle of your spine, pressing onto your back until your cheek is laying against the floor. You can feel his tip prodding into your entrance, the teasing motion of his cock rubbing against your needy slit. “Shit, baby, could just cum on myself from looking at you.”
“Please, f-fuck me.”
His dick enters you in one, slow and agonizing motion. You muffle your moans into the carpet, mewling from the immense stretch you feel between your legs as Eddie buries himself deep inside you. His hips are lined up against the curve of your ass, his large hands leaving dark prints on your skin as he pulls out and pushes back in.
“S-shit… Y/N.” He drawls, hair falling against his face as he watches his thick cock disappear into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight. What the fuck… Christ, it’s like the first time I had you.”
When he took your virginity on that lunch table in the trailer park, that’s definitely what he meant.
“Oh, my god. You’re so — so big, I can’t… can’t think with you inside, I just… fuck, move.” You reach back for his hand, nearly crying out when he places his palms on either side of your head and looms over your compromised position. He trails his soft lips over the nape of your neck, his pick necklace brushing over your skin as he breathes your scent in. “Need you. Need you, you treat me so well.”
“I know. I know I do, sweetheart. Rock back for me, yeah? Feel it, feel my cock right here.” You choke on a moan when Eddie feels up your abdomen, stroking the outline of his cock inside you. “Good girl. You can take it.”
His hand wraps back around your throat, fingers pressing into your pulse point before he’s pulling you up by your neck and having you sit on his dick. He chuckles darkly, “Your favorite seat in the house, right? All the way, Y/N. Take it deep for me.”
You shiver when his head pushes against your g-spot, and you realize that shutting your thighs together is absolutely no use when Eddie Munson is balls-deep inside you.
“Oh, f-fuck!” Your voice comes out garbled and raspy as his hold on your throat tightens, bruising yet pleasurable all at once as he pounds into you.
From fucking under bleachers, to the bathrooms in the library, to the back of his van and the floor of your childhood bedroom, you’ve come a long way.
Eddie’s fingers leave your throat and find comfort on your supple waist, digging into your generous hips as you grind on his lap. He meets you halfway with long strokes, slow and purposeful with each thrust of his cock. 
“Y/N, baby… f-fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good. I-I — holy fuck — I’m so lucky I can do this with you.” He whines out, barely coherent, but you can only focus on that one phrase.
Lucky I can do this with you.
“Eddie, fucking hell. Oh, oh my god. P-Please… wanna cum on you.”
“Gonna get you there, baby. Promise. A little longer, yeah? Gotta make you cum before I do.”
Your fingers messily circle over your clit, a combined sensation of pleasure that adds to the feeling of Eddie stretching out your pussy beneath you. He’s holding back his moans, stifling whimpers against your shoulder when his pace starts to quicken and his rhythm grows sloppy.
You tilt your head back and reach for his lips, pulling his face against yours as he continues fucking into you. You still taste yourself on his tongue, and you’d be lying if you denied that you enjoyed the idea of his mouth being on your cunt just moments ago. 
“You’re so pretty.” You whisper against his cheek, watching as his eyes close in bliss. “Fuck, you’re so hot. And I get you all to myself — a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar… oh, you fuck me so well.”
The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick, and your words spur him on even further. He holds you tight against his chest, tattooed hands grasping at your skin and breasts as he feels you clench around his length.
“Close, ain’t you? C’mon, sweet girl. Two for two. Let me feel you cum, Y/N. S’my favorite part.” Eddie nearly topples over when your cunt gives his cock one hard and long squeeze, fingers flying to help you massage your clit as another orgasm pumps through your quivering body. “Holy fuck, you’re so sexy when you cum. S-Shit, I… I gotta pull out…”
You nearly sob from the loss of contact when Eddie leaves you, emptying his seed out across your back and the tenderness of your ass as he grunts quietly behind you. Of course, you make no subtlety to watch him ride out his high — that perfect scowl on his face, the curl on his lip as he moans and runs his thumb over the leaking head of his prick.
“Hoooly fuck…” You sigh out, knees giving out from under you. Thankfully, Eddie catches you at the last second, arm swooping under your stomach before your body can make contact with the floor. “Oh, my god. That was…”
“Yeah, I… I honestly can’t… can’t think right now when there’s cum all over us.” He giggles heartily, leaving a hickey right on your collarbone. “Fuck, your neck is all red and purple.”
“Hot.”
“Not hot, I’m sorry if I was too rough. Just been thinkin’ about you lately, and… well, I guess I couldn’t help myself. Hold still for a sec.”
The admission makes you smirk, and you look back at Eddie as he grabs a random towel from your closet and wipes his spill off of your back. You turn over once he’s finished, arms outstretched over your head as Eddie sits against your bed frame and lazily draws shapes on your calf. 
“You think about me in your free time often, Munson?”
He clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side cutely, “Only when I wanna recall something pretty.”
“Mhm. Sure, rockstar.” You flick at his hand.
“Don’t let it get to your head, miss cheerleader.”
Eddie continues running his fingers up and down your leg, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body as the late midnight seeps through your curtains. You hum as he brings your ankle to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the bone before he’s leaning his head back against the edge of the bed and letting out a tired sigh.
“Wish you could stay the night.” The words that leave you shock you just as much as they do Eddie. “I mean, I just don’t want you driving back so late, y’know.”
“I know.” He takes note of your darting eyes, suddenly evading his amused stare at all costs. He’ll play nice for now. “I’ll see you tomorrow though, just before first period. Wanna see you in your dorky uniform.” 
You gape at him, sitting up with an expression of feigned offense. “Okay, rude. I thought the uniform was hot — like, like every guy’s fantasy kind of hot.”
“Only getting back at you for calling me dungeon master.” He shrugs giddily, before he’s pulling your legs off of his lap then slipping on his wrinkled boxers and jeans. You follow suit, fetching new underwear and a flannel before you prop the window back open while he collects his rings from your bedroom.
Eddie’s belt buckle jangles behind you as you sit on the bench by the windowsill, looking out at the flickering street lamp of your little culdesac. A hand on your hip draws you from your trance, and you’re met with Eddie’s sunken face of an awaiting goodbye.
“Stay safe, Hellfire.” You tease, heart fluttering as he squeezes your side and gently moves you away from the window. You’re unable to tear your gaze away from his arms, admiring the way his tattoos glint on his porcelain skin.
“By the way, best part about this is the drive back.”
“Huh?” You lean over as Eddie clambers out onto your roof, boots nearly slipping on the shingles. “Why’s that?”
He smirks, glancing at the sky before he settles on the details of your face. “Get to think about you all the way home.”
Then, he’s landing on your lawn with two feet and jogging away from your porch, but not without a nerdy wave and a little wink that makes your heart do another somersault similar to when he first knocked his way into your room.
Whatever this is, whatever it’s going to be, you know the both of you are absolutely fucked in the long run. Either way, it doesn’t matter what people will end up thinking. 
You’re so damn into him, even if it is — after all — just a fling. Totally a fling. 
Just a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar. 
13K notes · View notes
diyahatnight · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Warnings : NSFW Oneshot of a head cannon I made. Smut with a dialogue.
Minor dni
Giyuu Tomioka x Hashira f!reader
Summary : The topic surfs up about your boyfriend Giyu being a virgin, even though the other hashira’s didn’t know his past. You began to have flashbacks about what it’s like to be in bed with him.
Notes : This was requested by someone but it won’t let me tag them. Sorry it took so long to write this, i was being lazy. I’m also really bad a writing smut so let me know if there are any problems. There was another person who also requested: @lakainamelolita
I don’t proofread fyi
You and Giyuu had a private relationship, it wasn’t because the both of you were scared of people finding out, but because it was better and easier that way.
The other hashira’s knew you two were close friends, but it never crossed their minds that you two were together romantically. Even though it was quite obvious the only person who thought you two were in a relationship was Sanemi. He shot his own thought down when he looked at Giyuu and then at you and said to himself “nah she’s not that stupid to date an idiot like that guy.”
How you guys started the relationship was weird, you two were strictly just friends with obvious feelings for eachother. Until one night out together you guys returned to your mansion drunk, and one thing lead to another and y’all had sex in one of the many rooms.
Both of you remember that night exactly from how it started to how it ended, that being your first time it was the best sex you’ve ever had. He was so gentle with you but yet still had you crying.
You assumed because you were close friends, it would be awkward so you started avoiding him. While you were working out one day he came to ask you why you were avoiding him and you being confused asked if he didn’t think it was awkward and he said no. So then boom friends again, then about 2 weeks after bloomed a relationship.
There was the annual Hashira gathering, this wasn’t a fancy event or anything it was just a usual thing you guys do just to keep up with eachother. You guys were just a big ol family that just stayed in eachothers lives.
While chatting, Tengen got the question about how sex works with his 3 wives. Does each girl get their own moment or is it just a foursome?
That question brought up a sex topic amongst the hashira’s just telling out their business because there isn’t a personal bubble around them. ( discluding Muichiro for obvious reasons.)
When Shinobu started talking she called out the fact that Giyuu has been quiet the entire time, then started saying “Are you quiet because you’re a virgin?” thus bringing about her calling him “Giyuu the virgin.”
Giyuu didn’t say anything, he just shook his head. As they were laughing about Giyuu being the only Virgin amongst them you started getting flashbacks.
When you and Giyuu were just friends, he told you about his back story. He was a quiet guy, but getting girls in bed was like a second nature to him. He told you about all his sexual experiences, the good ones and the bad ones. You were flabbergasted to find out this side to him. That proving the point “it’s always the quiet guys.”
He was such a slut and it wasn’t obvious until you were one of the girls to be in bed with him.
The day that you two made it official he swore on his life that no one will get in the middle of this relationship. You were the only girl he’s been interested in ever since he first met you. You were his dream girl and so very perfect for him. He even slit his wrist as his own way as a pinky promise. He didn’t know why he did it he just did for some reason.
That same night he wanted to prove to you that you had all of him. And he knew the best way to prove that. He initiated the first move, you knew what he wanted when he was kissing you and he started pushing you more into the bed than you already were.
Next thing you new he was taking off yours and his kimono. The first round he was simply making love to you, he was being gentle and he finger prepped to make sure you had no pain on your end. He slowly pushed himself in to make sure that you had time to adjust to his length and thickness.
His pace was slow but harsh, each thrust were hitting all the right spots so perfectly. The first round he was fucking you so lovingly. He had your fingers intertwined with his as he had your hands above your head. When you reached your orgasm he made sure to give you some time before he reached his own orgasm. Pulling out then cuming on your belly.
He caught you off guard when he used his fingers to scoop up his cum off your belly, then sticking it in your mouth. What caught you even more off guard is when he started pushing both of your legs to your chest hinting that there was going to be another round.
This time without warning he just penetrated you and you let out a little squeal at the sudden sensation. This time his thrusts weren’t slow, they were fast and rough. But because of the position you were in you couldn’t hear the sound of skin slapping, but there was definitely a sound.
His new pace had your head thrown all the way back and you gripping into the sheets. Your orgasm came faster than it did before, your eyes tearing up and sending you into a haze because you were already sensitive from your first orgasm.
when his came he once again came on your belly then scooped it up and stuck it in your mouth.
He randomly flipped you over on your hands and knees, arching your back and forcing your face into the pillow. He forcefully pushed himself into your hole this time and that got a loud moan from you. His pace was somehow faster than his pace from the second round.
This time you can hear the sound of skin slapping, he was so focused on making you feel good he didn’t even realize how much he was digging into the skin of your ass. Letting out small grunts as he watched you tear apart before him. It turned him on so much he started to pick up the pace.
You were like jelly in the palm of his hands, you were trying to tell him to slow down but you couldn’t make out full sentences. You started to cry at all the pleasure and then the pain when your orgasm started to arise. This was the third orgasm i’m the row and it was starting to hurt because you were so sensitive.
The sex was so good but it was the orgasm that had you crying beneath him. When you came you had blacked out for a second and then came back to reality when he asked for permission to cum inside of you.
This time you told him yes, and that he did. After both of you collapsed and you snuggled up next to him as he apologized and started kissing your forehead.
You said that the both of you should go and shower together and he agreed. The beginning of the shower was just a normal couples shower, until one thing happened and then another then a 4th round became in that shower.
You snapped out of your thoughts, clearing the flash back you just had when Giyuu touched your thigh. “You okay?” he was a tiny bit concerned on why you all of a sudden got so quiet.
You shook your head yes, but you had the reason for the quietness written all over your face. He couldn’t help but give you a small smirk.
He was happy to know that you knew who he really was and you being the only person in the room who’s got to experience it.
Tumblr media
Now i have to write the next fanfic for the next person (i’m just doing fan service)
1K notes · View notes
Text
Danced With You Once Upon A Dream 🌠
Headcannons of Genshin boys seeing you in a ball gown and asking you to dance.
Ft: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe, Thoma, Ayato, and Alhaitham
Tumblr media
Tags: Fem!Reader, crushes everywhere, jealousy, fluff, PG, GOOD VIBES ONLY, i chose a lot of smug men please spare me, no beta we die like men Notes: I JUST REALLY WANTED TO MATCH PRETTY BOYS TO PRETTY DRESSES! SUE ME! (Another repost!)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Diluc
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Diluc is a known hermit. After his father's death, it was a rare sight to see him at any large social event. He preferred to keep it that way, but tonight's banquet is an exception. The masked vigilante accepted the invitation for an opportunity to eavesdrop on a fatui officer in attendance. Unfortunately, his person of interest appeared to be a complete no-show. The whole night was already a total bust.
Perhaps if he left right then, he could still do a patrol around Mondstadt before dawn. It was the enjoyable option compared to being approached again by another person seeking his attention. Idle chit-chat was never something he enjoyed much anyway and he was in no mood to talk business.   
Diluc contemplated his exit strategy that would avoid being stopped by anyone. An eruption of chatter drew everyone's attention to the main doors. There was a late arrival being announced. It was nice timing, he would just need to slip out during the commotion. How odd for one guest to kick up this much of a fuss... Diluc's curious gaze followed up to the large entry doors and inevitably fixated onto the beautiful figure, onto you. 
His plans to leave vanished with each step you descended down the grand staircase. Your flowing dress moved in such an entrancing way that he could swear you plucked it straight out of fairy tale. Diluc has been so busy with the winery and his investigations... he couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to you. Perhaps he should stay a little longer, if only just to catch up at least.
The red haired man was utterly enchanted by your movements. It explained why he was drawn in like a magnet, moving as if under your spell. He strode smoothly through the crowd to meet you at the foot of the stairs. His hand extended to guide you down the last couple steps, down to earth, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When you finally glance up from your hands to meet Diluc's gaze, adoration is already clear across his features.
"Y/N" He greeted you, bowing to place a small peck on the back of your hand. "Its lovely to see you tonight." Diluc spoke slow and earnestly, as if channeling every ounce of his princely charm into that sentiment. You felt like butter melting into his warmth, becoming pliant in his hands. “May I?” Diluc gestured forward, asking if he could accompany you in. 
The presence of the elusive owner of Dawn Winery did little to quell the whispers and eyes on you. Now awoken from your dreamy haze, you became aware of just how much attention you've managed to garner. You looked yourself over. Had there been a stain that you missed? Were you not on theme? How embarrassing... Your panic was interrupted by Diluc's fond chuckle. It almost annoyed you how amused he seemed by your antics.
“There’s no need to worry. They’re staring because they can't bare to look away. You are simply captivating.” Diluc stated as if it were an obvious fact. “If you are still feeling nervous, how about a dance to get your mind off it?” 
Kaeya
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kaeya spent most of the ball like a fly on the wall, listening in on conversations here and there. To his dismay, there was nothing interesting happening tonight. The juciest thing he managed so far were the two Fatui delegates discussing their distaste of the liquor served. “Honestly! Can’t they provide anything stronger? It’s practically disrespect to serve-” A pause. “Hmm... well at least there’s plenty of eye candy to eat up.” The man changed topics in favor of discussing the newest arrival to his comrade.
From his vantage point, Kaeya discreetly surveyed the crowd. His sweep abruptly stopped when he spotted you in such an elegant gown. “My, my don’t you clean up well.” The captain chuckled quietly to himself. He smirked slyly down at you and thought of a couple ways to make you be the one to approach him.
His plans changed rapidly when he noticed how swarmed you were. You hadn’t even taken five steps before multiple men stopped you, a half circle was already beginning to form. Confusion and an awkward politeness were loud and clear on your features yet no one took the hint. 
The look of the situation bubbled up something in the pit of Kaeya's stomach. He would sooner cut off his silver tongue before ever calling it jealousy. It was accompanied by a feeling of annoyance. Do those men not have eyes? Couldn’t they see they were making you uncomfortable? They don’t even have the decency to let you greet your friends first before bombarding you.
He simply could not let this stand. As a knight, he is upheld to a code of chivalry after all. It was easy to weave his way through the other guests to get to you. “My dear Y/N, you made it!” Kaeya addressed you, loud enough to make a couple of the men turn to look. Without hesitation, he took the opening to wedge himself between the half turned bodies.
He made the maneuver look easy, like he had done this exact thing a million times over. The Calvary Caption smoothly took your hand in his and gazed into your eyes like there wasn’t a dozen people staring. He flash of a small smirk, with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glint in his eye before, he continuing his theatrics.
“You look simply heavenly.” Kaeya said in a sickeningly sweet tone, playing it up slightly for listening ears. “Now that you’ve arrived, you can do me the honors of bestowing me your first dance of the night. You did promise it to me after all.” 
You caught on quickly, nodding in agreement. That's all it took for Kaeya to lead you out of the corner you were trapped in and into the rest of the festivities. Once you both were out of earshot, you quietly thanked him. 
“There’s no need, Y/N. Those men were being simply unmannerly.” He laughed, a smug look creeping back onto his face. “Although, it would also be quite rude to make a liar out of me. So how about that dance?”  
Zhongli
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Zhongli was familiar to with the formal banquets held on the Pearl Gallery. He did not always attend, but when he felt the desire to people watch the consultant accepted the invitation. The harbor is a beautiful heart of Liyue and the its people are the blood that pumps through her veins. To the being who laid its foundation, Rex Lapis viewed it like art to see the continued flow of life unfold before him.
He participated as the role an average guest. Someone may strike up a conversation now and again, in response he would chat idly about nothing at all. The visitor would then move on to their next conversation and Zhongli was perfectly content sipping his drink and taking in the evolving atmosphere.
The next shift in energy accompanied your arrival and his ember eyes watched the scene change before him once again. The former archon was fascinated by the buzz that rippled outward from where you stood. When you approached, people excitedly began chatting, smiling, and laughing. Knowing you well, he could tell you were radiating delight effortlessly, even while just greeting other guests. He no longer observed the gathering as a whole, his gaze instead followed the intricate detailing leading up your bodice. It was entrancing to watch each graceful step while you made your way around the ship’s deck.
Zhongli contemplated the notion of approaching you. Doing so would actively shift the trajectory of the evening. Taking your time for himself disrupts the organic flow of art he admired just moments prior. Would that be fair to you? You, who was someone he respected and admired. You, who looked so divine that it demanded all of his attention in that very moment. You, who Morax would willingly give all of it to.
The answer to his dilemma came simply while watching your eyes meet. Zhongli no longer felt content with his self assigned role of bystander. He had a deep desire to partake. Thus, the stubborn rock uprooted himself. 
“Hello again Y/N, you look blindingly radiant tonight.” Zhongli approached you with a graceful bow The lightest kiss is placed upon the back of your hand like a whisper. Your glowing smile and warm greeting prompts yet another decision. “It would be heavenly if you allowed me your company tonight. Would you care for a dance?”
The old archon had already inserted himself into this occasion's flow, it would be foolish not enjoy it in full. 
Childe
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jealousy. Jealousy. Jealousy. You were his guest after all. 
Tartaglia invited you, along with a few others, to a ball thrown by the Snezhnayan embassy. You weren't EXACTLY asked to be his date. Heck, the redhead even emphasized that you were invited as a good friend. But nonetheless, an honored guest of a Fatui Harbinger should be assumed off-limits. It shouldn't matter how stunning you look. Those men lingering around you will just need to be reminded. Politely of course.... 
Childe insisted on your attendance, even going as far as offering to buy you any dress you wanted for the occasion. You were still unsure, since you were aware of how bad the Fatui's reputation had tanked in Liyue recently. During back and forth with him, you jokingly pointed at an outrageously expensive dress in a shop display. There is no way, even someone with money, would drop that much on such a frivolous dress. It was double your rent for archon’s sake. 
Inevitably, when the dress was delivered on your step, you had to sit down to keep from falling over. You begged him to return it. There’s no way you could accept such an outragous gift. HE WAS BEING UNREASONABLE PLEASE! Like always, Tartaglia only laughed at you and teased how great you'll look in it.
The redhead didn’t expect just how great that was.
Some last minute Fatui conflicts allowed you to arrive before him. The party was in full swing and lively as ever. Guests were having enthusiastic discussions sometimes in a tongue you didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t long before you were pulled into a conversation, and then another. 
You already had five drinks lined up waiting for you by the time Childe arrived to the event. The fiery exchanges died down and a few peeled off rub elbows with the harbinger. Unfortunately, you were not able to go greet your friend. Three men blocked your path, insisting you finish your drink so you could dance with them. Any declination was laughed at and brushed over.
“Ah, you must be hard of hearing. My lovely guest here doesn’t wish to dance with you.” The polite words held a chilling edge to them. The men turned to face the instigator with puffed chests and annoyed glares. The Eleventh Fatui Harbringer stood behind them, a malicious smile staring directly back at them. Blood drained from the frozen men's faces and one by one they excused themselves with their tails tucked between their legs. 
“Now this isn’t fair.” Tartaglia sighed, his features relaxing now that is attention was on you. “You weren’t supposed to look this amazing in that dress Y/N.” He teased while also taking your hand and guiding you into a spin. “I may have to buy you a few more, so that I can see you like this more often.” You relaxed when you heard his playful tone return. You tell him to quit it while lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hm? I’ll stop if you agree to dance with me. How about it beautiful?”
Thoma
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thoma knew his way around a party. With so many connections to maintain, he fluttered from guest to guest like the social butterfly he was. When the Kamisatos throw a banquet, he’s usually busy with everything that goes on behind of the scenes. As a show of appreciation, Thoma was told to simply enjoy himself tonight. He was sure to take advantage of such an opportunity. The blond even invited you. Since he had no obligations, he could be the one showing you a good time for once. 
It was comical how obvious his double-take was when you arrive. The boy's green eyes sparkled and his mouth hung slightly ajar in awe. He catches himself, remembering his manners. Surely, it couldn't be proper to gawk at your friend so openly. 
Some habits die hard. The Kamisato Clan’s resident housekeeper is the first to greet you and guide you in. “Y/N you look....! Hah, I don't even know how to describe how beautiful you look. I'm utterly speechless." Thoma's charming smile was blinding when he looked at you. For someone rendered speechless, he didn't stop there. "That dress is perfect on you and the color just make your eyes... wow.”
You are showered in compliments. How he is doing it with a straight face? Thoma tone was so earnest and genuinely delighted to behold you, but each word made your face burn in embarrassment. You had to insist that he to stop to prevent your incoming heart attack.
“Ah, sorry Y/N. I must have gotten carried away.” He chuckled, only then finally showing an inkling of bashfulness. “Here, allow me to show you around, I have some people I’d love you to meet.” 
Thoma offered his arm and guided you around the festivities, while also subtly showing you off to everyone and anyone. Like two peas in a pod, you laughed and talked while you mingled around. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were a fresh couple struck with puppy love. But in Thoma's oblivious mind, he saw himself as only your attendant for the evening. He was simply there to ensure you’re a great time. He was happy with this.
The blond noticed your eyes drift over to the dance floor. It's then that he toed a line of where a servant should stay. It would be selfish for him to take you from the party and be the one to dance the night away with you. Sure, he wanted to..... he really wanted to. Would that be ok? Well... what was life without risks? If this was not proper, he'd happily accept whatever consequences.
“Y/N, would you like to dance with me? It would hands down make me the luckiest guy here.”
Ayato
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ayato was bored of the banquet too soon after it begun. As Yashiro Commissioner, he hardly had a moment of peace. There was a multitude of important people in attendance and out of courtesy he exchanged pleasantries and discussed light politics. His lines were well rehearsed, polite and non-confrontational on any one matter. 
 He didn’t know you were on the guest list until your arrival. It didn't go unnoticed how you dress style and color pallet correlated perfectly with the Kamisato Clan's traditional attire. He deduced that Ayaka must of had a hand in both of those happenstances.
As if confirming Ayato's suspicions, Ayaka was the first to greet you. He watched the two of you excitedly talk amongst yourselves. She gestured toward your dress with a not-so-subtle two thumbs up from her. There was a growing chatter amongst the the guests. In less than five minutes you managed to become the center of talk. Not just anyone was warranted to wear Kamisato colors to their events, and so extravagantly at that too. Even with Ayaka’s clear public approval, people will imagine drama where there is none. 
Ayato had to admit, he couldn't tare his eyes from you. The clan head he was speaking to, continued going on and on about business dealings. Meanwhile in the commissioner's head, he began to map out how to speed run through the rest of the interactions he was obligated to have tonight. If he played his cards just right, he may have a moment to chat with you. If time allowed, he may even be able to squeeze in a single dance.
 Ayaka inevitably was pulled away to attend to her other duties, but she encouraged you to feel free to mingle and have fun. Once she left, the eyes on you and the quiet murmurs became much more apparent. 
Ayato noticed your previous excitement shift into anxiety. Left like this, you would be eaten alive by these ruthless socialites. You might even leave before he had a chance to make his way to you. This definitely won’t do. Ayato politely excused himself from the mind numbing pleasantries and briskly made his way across the banquet hall. Others who approached him received a similar kind but firm dismissal.
“These kinds of people always find something to gossip about, trust me.” You jumped, not expecting the sudden company. Least of all, you weren't expecting the head of the Kamisatio Clan to be the one to approach you. You look around at all the prying eyes and quickly compose yourself. You deeply bow to the man in front of you and state your name and status as a formal greeting. It felt strange since you were both so well acquainted as good friends. It was better to be safe than sorry in your opinion. You waited to be greeted back in a similar manner so that you could be released from your bow.... but there was only silence.
“Hah! There’s no need for that Y/N. You shouldn't feel the need to speak so formally to me for their sake.” Ayato's hand was slightly covering his mouth to stifle a few stray chuckles. You stood up properly and frowned at your friend in more embarrassment. Ayato sighed, amused, and leaned down to meet your eye level. “Really, there's no need for that. Besides, with how exquisite you look tonight, I should be the one honored.” The commissioner took a knee and placed a princely kiss upon your knuckles. Voices began to erupt around you two.
“Hm... Since everyone is going to be gossiping anyway, how about we give them something to talk about?” Ayato asked smoothly, his hand already leading you toward dance floor by the small of your back. 
Alhaitham
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Alhaitham was only there because he was FORMALLY WARNED that he would be reprimanded if he missed another mandatory Akademiya event. 
The scribe was the definition of a party pooper. He sat in the corner with the best lighting and cracked open the book he had brought along. (This is the equivalent to being forced to go to an office Christmas party for this guy.) Any attempts to talk to him were either ignored or efficiently rudely turned away. 
The book became front once he finished it twice over. Alhaitham knew he should have brought a spare. To pass the time, he turned off his noise cancelling headphones and waited. People tended to say more when they thought you weren't listening. To his dismay... some conversations were just not worth listening to. The scribe became so bored he actually began his third re-read at some point. 
“Is it even allowed to wear something so....... adverse to an Akedemiya function? That has to be some sort of dress code violation.” Two scholars whispered to one another just within earshot. Ah, finally something interesting. 
Alhaitham spared a discreet glance from behind his book to the controversy of the hour. It was you... how unexpected. And how you were dressed, also unexpected. A quick glace had become more akin to appreciation. You stood defiantly confident in your body conforming emerald gown, meanwhile scholars were bending over backwards to avoid getting close at all costs. As if being associated with you would also get them a violation too.
The scribe shut his book since he had become interested enough in the situation to give his full attention. He had an idea what this was all about but this was definitely not the outcome he would have bet on. 
You had mentioned your annoyance with the Akedemiya’s dress code to him. You even submitted a few applications for an appeal. A couple even got approved through him before ultimately being rejected by the grand sage. It made no sense! Why were you being dress code on the exact shade of green you wore? Or that your attire had to be floor length? For archon’s sake you were even told your comfortable shoes were too dirty to be acceptable. And you definitely showed them. Alhaitham didn't bother hiding the way he eyed you over. And recalling the rules and regulation.... there’s technically nothing wrong with your outfit. Although, you were guaranteed to get an earful tomorrow by the sages. He decided with that alone that congratulations were in order.
“I must say, this a wonderfully scandalous way to prove your point.” Alhaitham mused while approaching you. You rolled your eyes at his comment and both relief and stress washed over your person. While thankful for some sort of company tonight, your antisocial colleague was the last person you expected to run into here. You greeted him stiffly while preparing yourself for the endless teasing sure to follow. Alhaitham had just enough respect for your efforts to hold his tongue for now. He instead held out his hand in an invitation, the hint of a smirk emerging across his features.
“You know, dancing is technically only 'frowned upon' at these kind of events. Care to piss off a few more old men?”
You guys were about to be in so much trouble...
Tumblr media
<A/N: Another repost from my old blog!!! I love this one! The only things I changes were made for the better I think. I really gotta stop writing these at like 3Am and calling it a day. SOME OF THESE WERE SO CONFUSING BEFORE EDITING IT. Anyway thanks for the follows and likes I'mma keep on trucking these out. This was was particularly long so the rest should be faster. "should">
408 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 4 months
Note
Hello exhaslo! I was wondering if you could write something for me🥺
I had this idea in my head for a while. ( Don't mind my English, it's my second language-) Soo can you write about Psycho Miguelx shyreader? I want to see miguel stalk reader, obsessed over reader, steal her clothes or panties for "whatever" purpose.. watching her sleep like a psycho- you know-
Until one point he kidnap and locked her up. Torture her but he still love her like a crazy obsession (dark scene maybe). He would try to be good to her (like try to bath and feed her) but she's just doesn't cooperate and miguel piss off easily.
If you do write it pls tag mee? This is my first ever request in thumbler. (I don't know how this app works) 🕴️
Hello! Hello!! Gotta love me some crazy Miguel. I'd feel like after a while a shy reader would give into the psycho bc they'd be too scared to escape. Maybe like Stockholm Syndrome?
I believe you will already receive a notification since I'm replying to your request, not quite sure how it works either, haha.
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, stalking, kidnapping, p in v, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, will try and make this as not concerning as possible, but if you remotely are not comfortable with any of these topics then I highly suggest avoiding
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spiderman is a hero! Spiderman does nothing wrong! Spiderman will help the citizens of Nueva York! Spiderman! Spiderman! Spiderman!
"Silence." Miguel hissed lowly.
It was a quiet night aside from the constant voices that reminded Miguel of his responsibility. The annoyance that he had to burden himself with and live to those standards. So many people treated him like a God. Everyone worshiped him, but none of them were willing to give him what he wanted.
At least, until you came along.
Miguel sat against a building, watching you leave work. It was only a short while ago that you started to work for Alchemax. You were a ray of sunshine in Miguel's life. He had to have you for himself. A beautiful, shy angel who just moved into the city.
His angel.
Miguel had already approached you at work, revealing to be the kind coworker to help you with anything. He wanted to start off well, at least the side that he was going to show you. Afterwards, he was going to find out everything about you as Spiderman.
"She lives so close to me," Miguel whispered, watching you enter a building.
His eyes sparkled as he followed your sweet scent up the floors. Once you stopped and entered your apartment, Miguel nearly groaned at the sight. He watched from the window as you stripped and prepared for a shower. Such a clueless beauty.
"She left her window unlocked for me," He whispered, entering your apartment.
You were humming quietly to yourself as you showered. Such a soft and low voice that should only be for him. Miguel would listen to you forever, but he didn't want you to catch onto him, yet. Grabbing your panties, Miguel inhaled towards you scent, groaning lowly.
"H-H-Hello?! I-Is...Is anyone there?!" You squeaked, turning the water off.
Miguel cussed to himself, quickly fleeing the scene. He stuffed your panties in his pocket and watched as you hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel and a bottle of shampoo. How cute. Like that was going to stop him.
"P-Please...I-If anyone is...is there...I-I don't have anything." You cried, shaking in fear.
Miguel resisted a chuckle. You had everything. You were everything. Miguel was going to have you for himself. He just needed to wait for the right time.
-------
"I-It was so scary! I-I really thought someone broke in!" You cried your eyes out at work towards Miguel.
"Don't cry, amor (love)." Miguel whispered, wiping your tears away with his thumb. You sniffed, staring at your wonderful coworker,
"S-Sorry...I...I just...I didn't expect this...I'm new to the city...and...and I just..." You felt your lips quiver as you tried to think, "A-Also, my underwear disappeared...m-maybe my apartment is haunted!"
"I'm sure you just misplaced them," Miguel lied knowing full well that your panties were now covered in his cum, "It could be the stress of moving to a large city. It will take some time to...adapt," He whispered, patting your head.
You rubbed your eyes, smiling brightly towards Miguel. He was just a nice coworker and good looking too. You were happy to have gotten close to him during your stay here. Thanking Miguel again for letting you vent, you pecked his cheek before hurrying off to work.
Miguel just smiled wickedly as he watched your scurry off. Those hips of yours just begging to be grabbed by him. Your soft voice just waiting to cry his name out. Miguel needed more of you. He had to have more of you.
---------
There he was again, outside your window, watching you walk around your place half naked. Oh, how tempting you were. His shy little angel just walking around in nothing but your panties. You were just asking him to go in there and fuck you.
Miguel decided to leave your clothes alone today, for he had something else in plan. He waited for you to fall into a deep slumber before entering the apartment. His eyes sparkled brightly as he saw you clearly in the dark.
"Oh, my lovely (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, stroking your naked body, "I know you must be dreaming of me,"
"Mhm~" You shifted slightly in your sleep.
Miguel hummed quietly as he started to stroke his dick beside your bed. He wanted to touch you, but he was afraid of waking you. Miguel had to be patient. Resisting a moan, Miguel kept pumping his dick to the sight of you sleeping. Oh how he wanted to see you wrapped around him.
"Fuck," Miguel whispered as he cummed over your body.
He sighed softly in relief before cleaning you up. He didn't want you getting anymore scared and locking your windows. Once you were cleaned, Miguel swiped the panties you were wearing and left to finish relieving himself at home.
---------
"I-I don't know what to...to do. I-I've never been asked out before," You whispered, hiding in Miguel's lab.
It had been another week of your panties going missing and you were officially scared. The last two nights you had stayed at a coworker's place, wanting to sleep easy. This made Miguel angry. He couldn't find you and now someone had the nerve to confess to you?
"M-Miguel? A-Are you okay? I...I can come ba-"
"I'm fine, just haven't slept well these past two nights." He told you. You slowly approached him, stroking the bags under his eyes,
"Oh, Miggy. I'm sorry! I-I've been ranting this whole time while y-you're this tired!" You whined softly. Miguel grabbed your hands, kissing them softly,
"Dios Mio (My god), you make me want to steal you away, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered, watching you grow flustered, "Will you let me do that?"
You squeaked, feeling your cheeks grow hot. Honestly, you weren't expecting that from Miguel. Yes, you liked him a lot, but this was straight up flirting. Trying to hide your face from embarrassment, you just smiled, wanting to play along.
"S-Sure," You said sweetly.
--------
You whimpered lowly as you slowly felt yourself come to your senses. You vaguely recalled what happened before you lost consciousness. It was time for you to clock out and you saw Miguel waiting for you. He offered you a ride and then you knocked out.
Rubbing your eyes, you looked around and noticed that you were in an unfamiliar bedroom. Tears started to form as your heart raced in fear. Even your clothes were changed. You were wearing a long night gown.
"M-Miguel...A-Are you there?" You cried softly.
Crawling off the bed, you gasped as you felt something tied to your foot. You whimpered, spotting the cozy chains that held your ankles in place with a long chain connected to the bed.
"(Y/N), you're awake." Miguel hummed as he entered the room with a tray of food, "I brought you dinner."
"M-Miguel...I-I'm scared..."
"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know, but it's all going to be okay now. You did give me permission to take you away after all." He said with a sadistic smirk. You trembled slightly,
"I-I thought...y-you were just...just flirting..." You tried your best not to cry, "M-Miggy, p-please...I'm scared."
"I'm going to take good care of you, (Y/N)"
Miguel placed the tray to the side and crawled onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him and captured your lips into a forceful and deep kiss. You were shaking as you tried to push him away, but he was too strong for you.
You whimpered as Miguel's tongue ravished the inside of your mouth. His hands holding your wrists in place as his body pinned you to the bed. You were terrified. The man you thought who cared for you was a psychopath.
"You taste just as sweet as your panties," Miguel whispered, pulling you onto his lap and grabbed the tray.
"W-Wait...y-you took...h-how?"
"Ah, since you're going to be my wife, I suppose you should know. I'm Spiderman. I've been watching you, making sure no harm came to my beautiful wife,"
"H-Huh!?"
Your face turned bright red at the thought. This whole time it was Miguel who snuck into your place and stole your underwear. Now, he had stolen you. Trying to free yourself, you whimpered as Miguel forced you back into his lap. You cried, feeling his bulge press into your ass.
"Don't cry, eat. You need your energy."
"N-No! I want...I want to go home!"
"You are home!" Miguel yelled.
Sighing heavily, Miguel watched as you shook in fear and covered your ears. He moved the tray away and turned you around to face him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. You were crying. Shaking in his arms.
"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I promise to take care of you." He whispered.
--------
It had been a week since you were held hostage by Miguel. Each day he brought more of your stuff to his place, wanting you to feel comfortable. You couldn't forgive him though, but you were too scared to disobey him.
You poked your head out of your room, spotting the front door open. Miguel had placed an ankle bracelet on you, but that couldn't stop you from trying to escape and getting someone to break the device. You just needed to be fast.
Hurrying towards the door, you yelped as you got yanked back. You cried as webs locked your arms behind your back. Miguel approached you, bending you over the living room table,
"Oh, (Y/N), why are you trying to leave?" He asked, pretending to sound hurt.
"M-Miguel...I...I..." You knew better than to lie.
"I'm going to have to give you a punishment."
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you felt Miguel tear your panties off. You begged him to forgive you, but Miguel had already started to grope your ass. You trembled and whimpered as you felt his fingers rub your folds.
"I know you love me, (Y/N), you're just confused right now." Miguel whispered in your ear as he started to pump his fingers into your pussy.
You gasped and whimpered, trying to distract your brain. Miguel's thick fingers were stretching your pussy out, making your body grow hotter with each pump. You cried out a moan as his fingers curled and rubbed your gummy walls.
"See, look how wet you are. Just stop trying to lie to yourself."
"M-Miguel," You whimpered, your face pressed against the table, "I-I'm scared."
"Shh, you'll feel so much better after this. Honestly, it isn't even a punishment, baby."
Miguel chuckled darkly as he pumped his fingers faster into you. Your juices spilling against his fingers and onto the table. You cried, arching you back as you cam against his fingers. Miguel hummed to the sound of your moans and your throbbing pussy.
"Good girl,"
You panted heavily, shaking from your high. You yelped as you felt Miguel grab your hips and something thick poke your hole. You tried to raise your head, but Miguel pushed you back down. He lifted your hips and shoved his dick inside you.
"Ah! M-Miguel! S-Stop!" You cried, taken back from the pain.
Miguel slapped your ass as he pounded your poor cunt. Groans and moans escaped his throat as he finally enjoyed the feeling of his dick inside you. Your tight gummy walls sucking him in so much. The sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. Everything about his moment made him horny.
"Fuck, (Y/N), I've been waiting for this. You feel so fucking good. Your pussy just loves my dick. You're doing so good." He rambled, slapping his hips into yours harsher.
"A-Ah~ M-Mig~ W-Wait...I-I'm d-dizzy~" You moaned out.
"You're doing so well, baby. Just relax for me,"
You whimpered lowly as you felt your mind grow hazy. His dick was thrusting so deep inside you that you swore his tip kissed your cervix. Your body shook and trembled as it grew hotter. Another knot forming as you felt the pain turn into pleasure.
"Mhm~ M-Miggy~" You cried out, feeling your orgasm approaching.
You wanted to hate this. You wanted to, but you couldn't deny that deep down before he kidnaped you, you wanted this. Before Miguel showed his true colors, you liked him a lot. You weren't sure if it was your past emotions and feelings, but you were giving into him.
"Good girl, such a fucking good girl," Miguel groaned as you cam against his dick, "See? Already used to me."
Miguel inhaled to the sound of your moans and sobs. He grunted as he slapped his dick deeper into you, filling your womb. He let out a sigh of relief before removing the webbing from your hands. He flipped you over, enjoying your fucked out expression.
"I'm not done with you, baby. I'm going to show you how much I love you."
--------
It had been a year since Miguel kidnapped you. You weren't sure when, but eventually you gave in to him. Miguel was only trying to protect you after all. You were just being unreasonable. He loved you so much and you finally shared that love.
"M-Miguel, W-Welcome home...I...I made you dinner." You whispered shyly, gripping the bottom of your new night gown he bought you.
"(Y/N), how was my beautiful wife today?" Miguel hummed, taking off his mask and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist,
"I missed you," You whispered, kissing him sweetly, "Miggy, can you stay home tomorrow? I...I'm a little lonely."
"Of course. I know just how to spend the day tomorrow."
Miguel smirked as you cheered, hugging him. He stole your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying your submissiveness. It took some time, but he was glad that you finally saw what he was trying to do. Miguel knew that you loved him.
You were just too shy to admit it yet.
"Why don't we start tomorrow's plan now?"
You squeaked, covering your face as Miguel tore your panties again. Miguel chuckled lowly as he spent no time abusing your cunt with his dick. He was going to make sure that you weren't lonely anymore. What better way than to impregnate you?
"C'mon baby, tell me what you want." Miguel hummed as he slapped his hips into yours.
"Y-You! M-Miguel, I want you!!"
"That's right. You're mine."
And Miguel was never going to let you go.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Haha, kind of got a little worried with how dark I was going to make this. I hope this met your expectations!!
510 notes · View notes
bhaalism · 1 month
Text
- dripping like honey (down the back of my throat and on the front of my mind)
Tumblr media
› ascended astarion x f!reader
› wc : 2k+
› a/n: I tried writing an argument like I mentioned before but literally I cannot even write about doing that because I'm such a hearts in my eyes 'yes honey whatever you say' girlie lmao also @lipstickghoulie I promised to tag you when it was finished tada! <3
warnings : breeding, talk of pregnancy, piv, creampie, dacryphilia, kinda overstim, multiple orgasms, blood mention (of course), he calls reader good girl, lemme know if I missed anything!
Tumblr media
You laid in his arms, ear pressed above his unbeating heart as his lithe fingers slid up and down the curvature of your neck. It was a rare peaceful night, no one demanding either of your attention was unique since the aftermath of the Netherbrains fall and as the city bestowed its heroes with accolades aplenty even in the midst of reconstruction. Sleep toyed with the edges of your mind as a kitten does with a tail of string, making you incredibly pliant in his hold. 
Perhaps thats why in that moment he chose to reignite an old conversation of yours. 
“Little love, tonight is a perfect night as any to reconsider.”
Reconsider. It makes your eyes crack open sluggishly, heat spreading beneath your skin as the first twinges of anxiety unfurled in your head like a bold of cloth unraveling. It was an often asked question due to your usual response of it simply not being the right time. It wasn’t a lie persay, but a half truth that felt heavy in your belly now. The meat of it was that you were doubtful a spawn could carry a child, and that topic felt like a completely different beast. 
The subject of children hadn’t naturally found itself on your tongues in all this time, not during the aftermath of your climactic battle nor in the months after either, when you two spent many days that blurred together simply relishing in your victory and in each other. You hadn’t left the bedchamber for weeks, excluding baths that became… a bit too invigorating to be called relaxing. But one common thred between all those days and nights was his question of your undeath. Isn’t that what you want? To be mine, forever. 
Every part of you constantly screamed yes, the urge to let go and wake up something new in his arms was what you wanted to do more than anything else. But that wriggling thought stopped you each time without fail. 
“I… I don’t need to reconsider. Of course I want that, to be with you forever, but theres just something on my mind.” You murmur, feeling lame for once again not uttering the enthusiastic consent on the tip of your tongue. 
He shifts, facing you to the side and your eyes meet as his hand resumes tracing lazy paths up the column of your spine. 
“Enlighten your lover, will you?” Astarion coaxed gently. 
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes searching his but for what you couldn’t say definitively. 
“The undead can’t carry children.” You whisper, watching his features closely as he took in your words.
The silence stretched on, making your hands fidget against his chest and you could hear the steady rise of your heartbeat in your ears. Surely, he could hear it too. You suspected the only exception to that statement was him, the ritual ensuring all the vitality and enjoyments of a mortal man returned to him. If you gave up your own mortality it seemed highly likely that your window of opportunity would close, bricked over never to be unsealed. 
“How long as it been on your mind?” he asked. 
“The last few months.” you say sheepishly after a beat of silence, eyes avoiding his until his fingers came beneath your chin to guide you back into direct contact. You didn’t see anything there but curiosity, making you exhale a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. 
“I do sort of wish I could be miffed you didn’t tell me in all that time,” you open your mouth but he continues before you can interrupt, “but, how could I be when thinking of you like that is so… tantilizing.” 
Your breath catches. The silence wasn’t because he was irritated or upset, but because he was already picturing you pregnant. The thought made you feel lightheaded, giddy even, as you feel his thumb move to caress your bottom lip, making you whine. 
“In that case, we don’t have to rush, do we? Since there’s something more pressing to attend to now.” His voice was low, the words seeping across your skin and threatening you with delirium already. 
“Do you- you want this too?” You asked, incredulous. 
“Does that surprise you? I’ve considered it but since you hadn’t voiced any want it didn’t seem urgent to discuss.” The admission makes you internally kick yourself, of course he had waited to see if you would say anything, being the mortal one in this pairing. Why you hadn’t considered that might be the case you couldn’t guess, an oversight that now felt idiotic. 
With a breathy giggle you cup his jaw, lips finding his in a kiss so sweet your teeth could start aching. You move against one another as easily as breathing, arms sliding over his shoulders as he guides you to move on your back, fitting between your legs like you were made for him. You already know you were. 
Sleep was now the furthest thing from your mind, forced out by the feeling of his lips traveling down your throat and his fangs brushing against the delicate skin as he clearly enjoyed the way it made your back arch ever so slightly. His movements didn’t stop at there, as they often did, instead mapping a heated trail down from your chest, over your stomach, until he was gingerly nipping at the skin of your inner thighs, pulling harsh, whiny breaths from your lungs. 
Your fingers twist into the soft bedsheets above you, moaning as you feel him place a kiss to your aching clit, fingers sliding through your wetness before you feel two begin a slow push inside. Your hands fumble as they shoot downward, begging to touch any part of him you could reach as his other arm slid beneath your hips, propping you up a bit to give himself a better angle to devour you by. 
Pleasure, more akin to electric shocks, starts rolling steadily in time with your hips as you shamelessly chase the sensation of his tongue lapping against your clit and his fingers deftly scissoring against your slick walls. Shamelessly crying out his name you grab the backs of your thighs, frantically trying to anchor yourself against the feeling that already threatens to overwhelm you. With every swipe of his tongue tears push against your waterline, muddying the world around you before it slides away with the cool tracks of water against your cheeks. 
Your mouth opens in a silent wail as your thigh muscles become so unbelievably tense it feels like they might snap, your hands letting go of your legs as they press against him in a suffocating grip and your hips buck wildly against his mouth. 
As he pulls away and your back relaxes against the bed he crawls back up, catching you in a searing kiss and the secondhand taste of yourself makes you groan into his mouth, a sound he drinks as greedily as he does your lifeblood. You whimper feeling his cock press against you, into the slick mess of spit and your cum now smeared between your legs. But if he’s greedy you’re insatiable, fingers tangling in his silvery locks as you tug and enjoy the gravely moan he lets out as he reaches between your bodies to line himself up with you. 
Fresh tears sting your eyes as you screw them shut, relishing in the way your body accommodates his slow push inside, until your hips meet and his cock sits heavy and satisfying inside your cunt,your walls pulsing with anticipation of his movements. You can hear the way he draws a sharp breath feeling you around himself, body always so eager to please and accept pleasure in return. 
“Good girl,” he coos, thumbing over the tear tracks on your cheek as you choke slightly feeling him slowly pull back out until just the tip of him was left inside you before thrusting back in, slow and impossibly deep. 
It already feels like too much, without even a second to come down from your orgasm, as his fingertips dig into your thigh but you know he adores when you get overwhelmed, gasping and writhing like you haven’t taken him countless times already. 
“I have been thinking of this,” he says with a fresh roll of his hips against yours, teeth flashing as your pussy flutters around him. “I’m going to fill you to the brim with me.”
You cry his name again, as if its the only word you know, and in that moment it just might be. It’s incredibly easy for him to crowd your senses, eclipsing everything else until the only thing you can focus on his him. 
“You want it, don’t you?” He teases, grabbing your hands in his and lacing your fingers tight together in your sweat slick grip. 
“Gods yes,” you choke out, feeling him brush against the specific spot inside you that makes your vision turn to stars, making your legs wind aroun dhis hips in a desperate bid to not let him go.
“Let me tell you exactly what I’ve thought about,” He whispers against your ear raggedly as he presses against you so fully it’s as if the two of you could meld together into one being. “You, all ripe and swollen with my child. Your breasts full and dripping milk, all proof of just how much we belong to each other." 
Distantly you know hes losing himself in it, being a little crass on purpose just to make you press your heels into his lower back a little more, squeezing his hands and clamping down around his cock like a vice grip, your body begging to accept everything he can give. 
“It’s too much-” you mewl out, high pitch and holding his hands so tightly you’re sure it must hurt but his pace never falters. 
“Look at me.”
He says your name as he lets of of one of your hands, gripping your jaw and forcing you to drown in his intense, hungry gaze. “I want you, I want this with you. You’re mine and you always have been.” 
It’s the truth, you awaken the most primal needs in him. To have, to claim. 
“Astarion, please,” you cry out, pressing your head back against the pillows as his hips pick up speed, the sound of skin smacking and the noises of your cunt squealching around him creating the most obscene symphony ringing against your ears. 
“Please what, darling? Use your words, tell me what you want.” 
Below him you’re a mess of sweat and tears, eyes blown wide with lust and adoration, lips swollen from the scratch of his fangs against them and he’s sure theres never been a more beautiful sight in all the world, nor will there ever be a comparable one. 
“I want to feel it, I wanna have a baby together,” you babble, words slipping from your lips so fast they slur together and it makes something inside him snap, his pace devolving into a brutal, sloppy rhythm as your body jostles against him and your fingernails scratch against his shoulder blades as if all you can do is hang on against his determined pace.
He moves ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping with every deep thrust, never faltering even as you wail sharply, another orgasm crashing into you with such force it was similar to being knocked over by a strong, pounding wave.
Burning, everything is burning from your screaming muscles to the feeling of him throbbing inside you as he gives one last thrust, spilling cum inside you that your cunt is all too eager to draw in, drowing in the warm, wet glow of him. 
You gasp and moan, body trembling with th e overwhelming sensation. With how far hes pushed himself inside you it feels like a stretch so wide you can’t help the tears that once again slide down your face.
“Let it out, my love. Let me take care of you.” 
And he does. Presses feather light kisses across your face and massages soothing little circles against your hips as he pulls out, although not missing the deeply satisfying sight of his cum dripping from you. As your breathing evens out his fingers trail back down, gathering what’s seeped from you on his fingertips before pushing it back inside you, clearly enjoying the way it makes a little sob bubble past your lips. 
“We shouldn’t be wasting a single drop, my dear.” 
400 notes · View notes
ceruleancattail · 10 months
Note
hello! I absolutely loved the reader who shies away at selfies, can you please make a part 2 with Jamil, Idia, Leona (and maybe platonic Ortho?) thank you!
Jamil, Idia and Leona with a s/o who is insecure about their appearance
Theres nothing much that escapes the eye of a viper.
Jamil’s used to observing people, noting down their every move. It’s crucial for his duties. You never know who’s going to harm Kalim at any given time. Naturally, you’re on his radar as well.
For a much different reason, of course.
Kalim’s a ray of sunshine. He’ll say whatever that’s on his mind. Praising or criticising with a bright smile on his face. Sometimes, he does compliment you.
You don’t take it well. Always laughing it off, before discreetly switching the subject. It’s a practised art for you, isn’t it? Smoothly leaping into another topic, avoiding all conversation about your looks.
It’s rather tragic, that you don’t see what he sees. Don’t get him wrong. You aren’t a dazzling diamond, shining for all to see. You’re a little gem, peeking out of the rocks. A gem in the rough. Twinkling like the north star, guiding him home, back into your arms.
Jamil tends to hold your hand. Fingers intertwining with yours, palm pressed against you. Whenever you start to joke about your appearance, he’s giving you a gentle squeeze. Bringing your hand towards his mouth, Jamil administers small little kisses onto your knuckles. Fleeting little things, kisses like the touch of butterflies, landing on your skin. Staring into your eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
Can’t really deny anything when you’re all flustered, can you?
Jamil does think you’re beautiful, and he’ll be damned if you say otherwise.
Idia doesn’t really like sticking his nose into other people’s business. That’s like provoking a bad-end route right there. Ain’t no way he’s going through that.
However, you’re a different story. He’s seen how you curl into yourself whenever you walk through a crowd. The way you desperately try not to look at your reflection, eyes shrouded in shadow. Idia’s the king of self deprecating jokes, but even he can’t seem to top yours.
You seem to make hating yourself a life goal, with the way you diss every single little thing about your body.
Unfortunately, Idia doesn’t agree. He’ll spend hours on the phone, whispering sweet compliments into the speaker. Telling you what he liked about your outfit today, how beautiful you looked when you turned and smiled at him… sappy things like that.
Idia gets all flustered, and his voice tends to peak at times. Hey, can’t help that he’s nervous, talking to someone as wonderful as you. An SSR, through and through. He’ll whale on the gacha just to catch a glimpse of you.
So please… don’t sell yourself short.
You’ll break his heart.
Leona’s used to people parading about him. The pride of beast men, flexing their claws. It’s a strength dominated world out there. No one wants to appear weak.
You don’t seem to take the hint, do you? Shoulders hunched, always trying to make yourself smaller then you seem. Squirming away whenever a photo is taken, shrugging off compliments like they’re the plague.
You’re quite literally the definition of a small, weak, herbivore. Trembling like a leaf in a storm. Careful, anyone could just take advantage of that. You’re lucky that Leona’s nice.
Yet his patience runs thin. Everything that the sun touches is his. With every self deprecating joke you make, you’re insulting his property. Leona pins you down, pressing his lips deep into his skin. Kissing every part of you that you deem unlovable. Lips burning hot, searing into your body.
Can’t stand to look at yourself? It’s fine.
Leona will just have to make you look.
Bonus: Platonic Ortho
He’ll tag along with you. After all, his brother hardly gets out of his room. Ortho gets bored sometimes.
The best way to acquire data would be through experiences, would it not? He does believe that hanging out with a normal person will do wonders for his database. Although you do tend to shy away whenever he tries to take a photo. That’s no good! He needs pictorial references to draw back onto.
You… don’t like the way you look?
Ortho thinks you look just fine.
He’ll insist on a photo. Ortho’s stubborn that way. Even if you refuse on the account of your looks, he’ll fix you with a blank stare, and say that your voice was not registered.
After this, Ortho goes out of his way to find you in a crowd. He’ll give you a genuine compliment every day. He likes your hair! He likes your skin! He likes your nails!
Positive affirmation is the best way to go for these things, no?
As blunt as his compliments are, you can’t really deny Ortho. Not when his eyes sparkle with joy whenever he’s praising you. He’s merely stating what he observes, after all.
You’re a fascinating human!
1K notes · View notes
littlejuicebox · 1 month
Note
Heya!
I’ve been lurking for a while and had this idea rattling around in my brain - how do you think Astarion would be around a sweet & unassuming Tav but he can tell they’re FILTHY in bed, maybe flirting via tadpole?
Love your writing, hope you’re doing well
- 🌹
Tattoo
This ask has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while, unsure if anon will still see it! This mostly answers the prompt, I think. Perhaps a small detour lol.
Summary: Astarion thought you were an innocent, blushing virgin that night in the clearing. He misjudged you. And now you’re all he can think about.
Tags: smut, 18+, masturbation, tadpole fliritng, mentions of oral
Word Count: 1K
-----
It wasn’t until that night in the moonlit clearing when Astarion realized you had a tattoo. But of course, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to see your enticing bit of body art any other way.
His original intent had been to use his skills that evening in an effort to repay you for the regular feedings. His unique way of rebalancing the scales, as it were. But now that little tattoo, just below the curve of your hip, in the dip where your thigh meets your — surprisingly delicious — mound is all he can think about.
Astarion’s delved his hand in his pants more than once this week thinking about that vision alone. He hasn’t felt the urge to touch himself in decades, but the memory of that dainty bit of ink constantly taunts him throughout the day, stirring a desire he hadn’t known in ages.
He knows it’s ridiculous – it’s just a bit of ink, for god's sake – and yet, tonight he felt compelled to seek relief by wrapping his own pale hand around his cock and rubbing himself ragged once again. And now he’s sprawled in his tent, the remains of his spend still splattered over his abdomen, and his mind is starting to wander back to that night.
He’d seen tattoos on others, of course. In almost any place imaginable. Most of them were horribly done.
But you? Well, you’d certainly caught him by surprise.
You’d seemed the picture of innocence, made up almost entirely of wide, doe eyes and gullibility. Before his proposition, he’d been almost positive you were a blushing virgin. An easy target.
But to have a tattoo in such a salacious location? And then to have your hot, sinful mouth wrapped around his cock, worshiping it with your tongue, as if you’d never tasted anything better? All with those big doe eyes watching his every move and clearly delighted by his own pleasure?
He hasn’t had an experience quite like that for as long as he can remember.
And, well, looks could certainly be deceiving, couldn’t they?
The taste of your blood as he sunk his sharp fangs into your soft flesh while you’d found release had been intoxicating. Part of him wants to experience it again; the other part knows – and desires to avoid – what he will have to do to achieve that particular flavor.
At this point, Astarion isn’t quite sure if he wants to proposition you again or not. Sure, the first time was satisfactory. Perhaps even a bit enjoyable. But still—
Suddenly, the rogue feels a tugging on the edge of his mind, ripping him from his musings. He recognizes this sensation, it’s a tadpole mind link. But something about this is… different. It isn’t accidental, it’s intentional. Someone in camp is reaching out to him.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Good thing he’s immortal.
Against his better judgment, Astarion opens his mind to the call. And there you are, waiting for him.
"I'm surprised you’re still awake,’ You say, and the silver-haired elf is shocked to hear your voice as if you’re right next to him. Interesting.
‘How did you realize we could do this?’ Astarion asks, and he hears your entertained laughter tinkle in the background of his psyche in response.
‘Shadowheart and I figured it out sometime last week. We’ve only used it to talk shit about everyone thus far.’ You reply, clearly proud of your discovery and thrilled by your own behavior.
‘Everyone?’ The rogue asks, not pleased about being the topic of you and your apparent best friend’s judgment.
‘Almost everyone,’ You amend, and there’s a brief flicker of affection in your psyche towards Astarion that you’re certain he notices before you quickly stomp it down.
You feel a ripple of Astarion’s own satisfaction at your amendment. He’s glad to not be the topic of your more unkind thoughts.
‘What are you still doing awake, darling?’ The vampire questions, ‘You are normally the first one snoring.’
There is the smallest wave of offense, and then a resigned acknowledgement at the truth in his statement. A pause of the mental conversation ensues as you seem to carefully weigh your next thoughts and move around in your tent.
‘I can’t sleep. Too much excitement today, I think. Too much pent up energy,’ You start, and then flash a vision through your own eyes, showing Astarion as you look down at your own barren mound, ‘Care to come and help me… release some of the tension?’
Astarion can see the tattoo through your eyes, greeting him in a sensual hello as you drag your fingers down it, on the way to touch yourself. Gods damn it.
He wants to take you up on your offer, but then he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what he wants. So instead he dances around the topic, avoiding an answer, with a flirtatious admission of his own.
‘I’m afraid I have taken care of my own needs for the night,’ He replies, flashing you the quickest view of milky white liquid now beginning to dry upon his stomach.
A ripple of disappointment on your end. And then another pause.
‘Well… even though I wasn’t extended the same kind offer, you’re welcome to watch me as I take care of my own needs for the night.’ You offer, now teasing between your folds more insistently. You send the rogue another vision of your needy sex and two fingers now shining with arousal, ‘Via tadpole… or in person.’
Astarion has never thrown his shirt on and walked across the camp faster. In his haste, he broke the tadpole connection. But you hear him coming and barely peel back the flap of your tent, displaying the briefest sliver of your naked form.
The vampire pauses for a moment on the outside of your tent, debating if this is the right move. You’re still touching yourself, he can hear the slickness of your sex from here.
“Hurry up, Astarion,” You whisper, somewhat impatiently, as the urge to find release builds within you.
Fuck it, he thinks. He wants to run his tongue along that tattoo again, even if that’s all he does.
He quickly delves into the tent and ties it closed behind him without another thought.
Eventually, he does drag his masterful tongue along that tattoo, and around many other parts of your tempting body, after he decides to help you find a second release.
Simply watching the first one had been enough to make you almost irresistible. He wanted to sink his fangs into you again. Perhaps in your thigh this time, if you’d allow it.
Like a tattoo, his nights tasting you left him permanently altered.
306 notes · View notes
obsessivelullabies · 6 months
Text
⎯ yandere john price.
Tumblr media
pairing : john price x fem!reader.
tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, john price x reader, captain price x reader.
warnings : yandere behavior, stalking, oral sex at the end (fem receiving).
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
⎯⎯ you met captain john price in a very casual setting. perhaps it was at a bookstore or a cafe. no matter where, you were immediately charmed by him and his honest, adorable smile. you exchanged contact information.
⎯⎯ like the gentleman he was, he offered to take you out on a date. you obviously agreed, what wasn't to like? he was mature, gruff and seemed very intelligent. he was just your type.
⎯⎯ your date went amazingly, he opened doors for you, pulled out your chair for you and was so caring, it made you want to squeal. however, you discovered he was in the military, which you had your reserves about. you decided it was worth it to see what would happen.
⎯⎯ you two had more dates, until you finally made it official. he took such good care of you. he would come to your apartment and made you a romantic dinner, massage your shoulders after a long day and adhere to your every want.
when you opened the door to your apartment, your eyes lit up. a pleasant aroma wafted in the air. your apartment was cleaned properly, and the table was set with your favorite meal. you immediately noticed your boyfriend in the kitchen, he grinned his familiar smile at you.
he approached you, taking off the apron he was wearing. he gave you a sweet kiss and wrapped his toned arms around you. he kissed your forehead, "missed you, baby." was all he murmured.
"i missed you too, bear!" you giggled, nuzzling into his firm chest.
john ushered you to sit down at the table, where he had prepared your favorite meal.
the two of you chatted all throughout dinner, he asked about your day, told you about his and any other topic that came to mind. something you loved about john was how good of a listener he was.
⎯⎯ john's first deployment since you began dating was rough. he ached for your touch, to hear your sweet voice soothing him, to be able to pamper and kiss you. phone calls whenever he wasn't busy were scarce. this is when john realized how much he needed you.
⎯⎯ when john came back, something was different about him. he was still an amazing boyfriend, yet he was much more needy and.. possessive? you had no clue where the energy had come from.
it had been a long shift at your work, you were exhausted. thankfully, john was going to pick you up and bring you home.
in an act of good faith, one of your male coworkers offered to walk you out to your boyfriends car, due to how late it was into the night and how dangerous it could potentially be.
and that's exactly what he did, simply walk you out to john's car. long story short, john did not like this. your boyfriend stood outside his car, waiting to open the door for you. he noticed your male coworker and was pissed. he flatly told your coworker, "my girlfriend doesn't need you to watch her", and scared him.
once you sat down in the car, john immediately spoke up. "what was that?" he practically hissed.
"he was just walking me out to the car cause it's so late.." you mumbled nervously, not liking his tone. you avoided his gaze.
john reached over to you, grabbing your chin and turning your head to face him. "you don't need another man to protect you. i'm the only man you'll need." he stated confidently. "understood?"
"understood.." you nod, your face flushing.
he gently stroked your cheek, "good.. you're my precious girl, i won't ever let someone hurt you.." he leaned over and gave you a soft kiss.
you smiled at his words, any anxiety you had before vanishing. john was so sweet.
⎯⎯ a few more months into your relationship, johns infatuation for you only grew. after a particularly long deployment, john needed to constantly be by your side. he pressured you to move into his house, rambling about how he needed to keep you safe.
⎯⎯ a week after pitching the idea that you moved in with him, whether you wanted to or not, you now lived with him. he helped you pack all your things from your apartment and sort them into his home. he was so happy to have you with him, yet he had other ideas for what he wanted out of you.
⎯⎯ after a month of living with him, john began to pressure you to quit your job. he reassured you that he would take care of you. you could depend on him. he wanted you to depend on him. he eventually wore you do.
⎯⎯ this isn't where he stopped. over time, he made sure you spent more and more of your time with him. he was so clingy. john only ever wanted you to be around him. he constantly needed to know where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.
⎯⎯ john was so obsessed with you. you were the most important thing in his life. whenever he was deployed, you were all he thought about. he wanted pictures of you every day. photos of your face, of your body, your outfits, he wanted every little update about you.
at the moment, you were bent over your shared bed with johns face shoved between your thighs. his tongue rapidly darting between your folds, hitting every spot that made you squirm and cry out.
he sloppily devoured your cunt, licking and sucking your clit. every so often, he'd pull away to place sweet kisses on your thighs and folds. "this pretty little cunt.." he cooed, peppering your thighs with kisses. "all mine.."
you mewled pathetically into the bedsheets as he ravished you. his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to stay in place despite your squirming.
as you came on his tongue, you felt waves of pleasure surge through you, your moans and cries filling the bedroom. he rode out your orgasm, overstimulating your fragile state.
in the aftermath of his teasing, he had you scooped in his arms as he murmured praises into your ear, praising your beautiful body, telling you how much he loves you.
"you'll always be mine," he purred, "my perfect little angel." he placed a kiss atop your head.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
authors note: i don't know how i feel about this, it's mostly unedited. i apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes!
531 notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 7 months
Text
Bulletproof (3/?)
Tumblr media
Part Summary: But she just keeps on murmuring, lost in her dream. You try to make sense of her muffled words, but it's hard. And then, out of nowhere, she sighs your name. It's not loud, but it's filled with a kind of longing. Your heart skips a beat. She's dreaming about you. 
Or the one where Wanda accidentally pulls you into a very vivid dream
Chapter word count: 2.8k+ | Tags: Slight Somno, Explicit Dream Sharing, Sharing A Bed, Mutual Pining, Maybe Resolved Sexual Tension | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Author's notes: I have no explanation for this, Your Honor.
Series Masterlist
-
The sleeping arrangement becomes less complicated following your return to Wanda’s room, days after you splurged on a hotel suite.
It’s less complicated in a sense that Wanda did away with the pillow barrier and began sleeping on the bed with an ease, almost as if you weren't there. While you found her newfound nonchalance puzzling, you've learned your lesson about making assumptions. After the recent embarrassment, you've become more careful about reading too much into things.
But with the pillow gone, so too was Wanda's warmth that you'd grown accustomed to when you first started sharing her space. 
The soft "good morning" greetings, ones that used to set a gentle tone for the day, disappeared. Most mornings, she's up before you, the other side of the bed cool to the touch. On the rare occasion you do wake up before her, you hustle through your morning routine, eager to vacate the space. You hope this gives her the peace of a bathroom unoccupied and the luxury of starting her day in solitude, without the need to navigate around someone else in her sanctuary.
However, as days meld into one another, you notice that Wanda's behavior has reverted to how it was in the beginning–not cold, but seemingly indifferent. The occasional smile she throws your way feels more like a courtesy, perhaps an acknowledgment for saving her life, rather than a desire to be your friend. When you talk, the conversations remain on the surface, never diving deep. Gone are the days of sharing little secrets, dreams, or thoughts; now, the chats are cordial, almost scripted.
She said everything was okay, but it sure doesn't feel like it. That awkward moment with her pillow keeps replaying in your mind. Every silence between you two makes you wonder if you really did make her uncomfortable.
As the day wraps up, you get into bed and notice Wanda's already asleep, facing away. You let out a deep sigh. You can't keep avoiding the topic. Listening to her steady breathing, you decide: tomorrow, you'll talk to her and try to fix things between you two.
-
Except, something unexpected happens in the middle of the night.
Still deep in slumber, Wanda drifts over to your side, her leg carelessly resting on yours as she nestles closer, with your arm inadvertently near her chest.
From your time sharing the bed, you've come to understand that Wanda can sleep soundly through almost anything.
Yet, as you carefully attempt to wriggle out from beneath her embrace, wanting to give her more space, it has the opposite effect. Wanda's grasp tightens, pulling you closer. Before you can fully comprehend the shift, she's straddling your thigh. A sudden heat radiates from her core, making contact with your leg, and an involuntary gasp escapes your lips.
In her deep slumber, Wanda starts to murmur softly, words flowing in Sokovian. Her voice, hushed and sultry even in sleep, becomes the most tantalizing sound you've ever heard.
You can feel the faint brush of her lips against your neck, sending ripples of anticipation down your spine. Her fingers begin to dance lightly across your exposed abdomen, each touch igniting a spark that makes you swallow hard. This is uncharted territory, teetering on a delicate edge. 
Overwhelmed, you can only manage a soft, “Wanda?” hoping it might wake her up.
But she just keeps on murmuring, lost in her dream. You try to make sense of her muffled words, but it's hard. And then, out of nowhere, she sighs your name. It's not loud, but it's filled with a kind of longing.
Your heart skips a beat. She's dreaming about you. 
But before you can articulate what this means, an arresting image takes shape in your mind: the bed beneath you creaking softly as Wanda, devoid of any garments, moves atop you. Her head is thrown back, a cascade of her hair tumbling down her back, her face etched with raw emotion. The soft, dim light of the room captures the gentle curve of her breasts, her erect nipples, rising and falling in time with her rhythmic movements. Each bounce, each motion pulls you deeper into the vision.
It must be Wanda's powers. Steve once tried to explain the intricacies of her abilities, but all you gathered was that she could craft intense illusions in one's mind.
You never imagined you'd experience it firsthand. Especially not in such a... provocative manner.
As quickly as that consuming image formed in your mind, it's torn away, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You feel a rhythmic motion against your leg. It's Wanda. The dampness of her panties seeps onto your skin, unmistakably warm and wet. Each subtle movement of her hips sends a tangible pulse through the both of you. 
In your desperation, you whisper, “Wanda?” trying to pull both of you from the heated dream world. But as you reach out to her, another overwhelming image infiltrates your thoughts.
This vision is even more raunchy. Wanda's thighs frame your view, her glistening core just inches from your face. You can see every detail: the way her soft folds part for you, inviting, enticing. Hesitantly, your tongue reaches out, sinking into her.  The scent of Wanda, both heady and sweet, envelops you. A moan escapes your lips, relishing that first taste—you from the dream and quite possibly, the real you. You delve deeper, your tongue exploring, stretching her, teasing every sensitive spot. With each push of your tongue, Wanda gasps, her moans getting louder. She rides your face with abandon, grinding down against you, chasing her pleasure. 
The vision recedes, much like the previous one, leaving behind an unsuspecting Wanda nestled against you.
The line between what's real and what's in your mind becomes dangerously thin. Wanda's fingers clutch at your waist with a desperate strength as she grinds fervently against your leg.  
You can't help but let out a moan, “God, Wanda…” The pleasure is as much yours as it is hers.
Any caution, any reservations you held onto, start to slip away.
Your thigh instinctively rises, pressing tighter to Wanda, matching the urgency of her grind. Her breathy moans become more desperate, and you can feel the tension in her body as she gets closer.
“Ah, Y/N…” Wanda hisses, and for a moment, you think she has finally woken up. But when you risk a glance down, her eyes are still firmly shut, the rocking motion of her hips becoming more frantic.
The tension builds, and soon Wanda's entire frame stiffens. As she crests the wave of her climax, you can feel her wetness, warm and abundant, seeping through onto your leg. The sharp bite on your shoulder punctuates the moment, her moan echoing softly in your ear.
As her tremors subside, Wanda's weight presses into you more heavily, her chest heaving against your side. You can't help but glance at the evidence of her release smeared on your leg. On an impulse, you gather the moisture with your fingers, hesitating just for a brief second before tasting her. The slightly sweet, unmistakably intimate taste causes a shudder to travel through your body. The throbbing heat between your own legs becomes nearly unbearable, making you shift restlessly beneath her.
Wanda rolls away, and suddenly, it's like a splash of cold water hits you. You just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking, what the hell just happened. The warm fuzziness from earlier turns to guilt. You can't help but wonder if you crossed a line, even if it was all so unintentional. 
You can't take the weight of it any longer. Every second on that bed, every rustle of the sheets is a cruel reminder. Quietly, you slip out of the bed, taking one last glance at Wanda, her form peaceful, oblivious to the storm inside your head.
The cold floor greets your feet as you head towards the door. Your steps echo, each one sounding heavier than the last. The corridor outside seems darker than you remember, but maybe it's just your mood. You keep your head down, not wanting anyone to see the guilt written all over your face.
The door to your cell looms ahead, and entering feels like you're punishing yourself, willingly locking yourself away. But in some twisted way, it feels like what you deserve right now. The cold walls seem like old friends, and the thin mattress beckons you to lie down. The bite on your shoulder pulses with every heartbeat, and you hug your knees close, trying to find solace in the dark. 
The hope now is that sleep, if it eventually comes, will help you find clarity or at least forget, if only for a few hours.
-
The next morning, Wanda stirs, her hand lazily reaching out to the space next to her, expecting to meet warmth. Instead, the sheets are cold, the bed emptier than she remembered.
Yawning, she stretches her limbs, and that's when she feels it – the discomfort between her legs. The sticky reminder of her dream. Her face turns crimson, and she's momentarily taken aback, but soon gratitude takes over as she realizes you're not there to witness her state.
Shuffling out of bed to freshen up, the water from the showerhead splashing on her helps clear her head. Yet, as much as she tries to banish the thoughts, the memories remain persistent. Since the day she walked in on you with her pillow, an image has planted itself firmly in her mind. The visual of your naked form, vulnerable, lost in pleasure—it was an image she couldn’t shake off. 
Wanda has been skillfully evading you for days. While shared spaces in the facility meant you were bound to cross paths, Wanda became remarkably adept at staying out of sight. You'd walk into the dining area, she'd just be leaving. You'd be heading to the training room, and she'd abruptly turn, murmuring about forgetting something.
It's not that she's afraid of confrontation. It's the exact opposite. She fears the pull she feels toward you, the visceral need to close the distance. And with the memory of that day—of catching you so intimately involved with her pillow—she fears she might not be able to control herself. The trajectory your relationship has taken prior, the slow-build of a bond, was at a dangerous tipping point. All it might take is one lingering gaze, one innocent touch, and she worries that restraint would crumble.
(She believes she's keeping her feelings hidden, contained within her, but the truth is, they already surfaced in the most unexpected way. If only she knew.)
-
Throughout the day, you remain conspicuously absent from the usual spots in the compound, making Wanda's self-imposed avoidance unexpectedly effortless.
Wanda tries not to think about it too much, assuming you were called away on a mission.
-
As the night deepens, Wanda finds herself glancing repeatedly at the door, anticipating your return. She adjusts the sheets, fluffs the pillows, and even listens for any signs of movement outside her room.
But the hours tick by, and you never show.
-
As another day passes and another night comes, Wanda's worry deepens. Every night, she finds herself waiting, hoping you'd walk in. But you never do. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she finally turns to Vision, the only person in the compound who always seems to know where everyone is.
“Vision?” she begins hesitantly, catching him in one of the quiet hallways. 
Vision blinks at her, his eyes briefly flickering in that peculiar way of his, as though processing data. “Wanda,” he begins, his tone always measured, “What do you need?”
"It's about Y/N. Have you seen them? They haven't been back to my room in days," she blurts out, a little more desperately than she intended.
Vision pauses, analyzing for a moment. “I have noticed that they've been spending a significant amount of time in their old cell. They've mostly remained isolated.”
Wanda's heart sinks. The thought of you confining yourself to that cold, lonely cell pricks at her heart. “Did something happen? Did they get a mission or…”
Vision interrupts gently, “No mission, Wanda. As far as I'm aware, they've chosen to stay there.”
Wanda's throat tightens, the realization that her behavior might have indirectly pushed you away, making her nauseous.
“Thank you, Vision,” she says softly, her voice wavering slightly. 
She needs to find you, to talk things through, to clear the air.
Whatever it takes to pull you once again out of that goddamn cell.
-
You're there, curled into a tight ball, deep in slumber when Wanda finds you just moments later. The soft rise and fall of your chest is the only indication of life in the otherwise still cell.
Wanda pauses at the doorway, taking in the sight of you. Her eyes slide over your arms, noticing the muscle lines even in sleep. She looks up to your face, which seems so calm and quiet. Your lips are just slightly open, and she wonders what you might be dreaming about.
But then the reality of the scene hits her. 
The cold, unyielding floor you're sleeping on, the way you've curled up, trying to find some comfort where there's none. It’s a far cry from the soft bed upstairs, and a pang of guilt hits her hard. She’s been so focused on avoiding you, she didn’t think about where you'd end up. 
This isn’t right, and deep down, she knew it. 
With cautious steps, Wanda approaches you, her fingers itching to reach out and pull you into her arms. But she resists, instead crouching beside you. 
“Y/N,” she whispers gently, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder, giving it a light shake.
You stir, eyelids fluttering open to meet her concerned gaze. For a brief second, confusion paints your features, but as recognition dawns, you sit up abruptly, creating distance.
“Wanda? What are you doing here?”
She takes a deep breath, looking a bit anxious. “We need to talk.”
You shuffle backwards as Wanda catches the slight distance in your eyes, realizing that her recent coldness has probably hurt you more than she thought.
You say nothing and hug your knees to your chest, half of your face hidden from Wanda.
She hesitates, and then slowly says, “I know why you've been hiding in here.”
Your eyes widen in shock. Images flash before your eyes, moments from that night replaying, guilt flooding you once again. “Look, Wanda, I know what I did, and... and that's why I'm here,” you stutter out, pointing to the bleak surroundings of the cell. “It's where I deserve to be.”
Wanda, however, looks perplexed. “Wait, what are you talking about? I'm here because I've been... avoiding you. And you've been avoiding me… hence, you coming back to this cell, right?” She genuinely seems unaware of what you're alluding to, which only confuses and surprises you more.
Shit.
Now it's you who have to explain.
But you remain mute, eyes darting everywhere but at the wary girl in front of you.
“Y/N,” Wanda prods. 
You're convinced that this is it. Surely, with the power she possesses, she'd obliterate you right here and now for crossing such a line. Because you have no choice now but to tell her the truth.
“I…” You hesitate, taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to confess your sin. “That night you came close to me in your sleep... I woke up to it, to you... acting out your dream on me.” Your face flushes as you meet her gaze, expecting disgust or anger. “I didn't stop it, Wanda. I should have woken you up, pulled away, but I didn’t. I... I let it happen. I’m so sorry.”
Wanda's eyes go wide, and her cheeks flush a bright red. “You... you did what?” 
You'd think her tomato-red cheeks were cute if the situation wasn't so mortifying. But right now, it's clear she's grappling with what you just said. She stammers, trying to find her words. “I... I had no idea.”
For a brief moment, memories of waking up with a sticky sensation between her legs and remnants of a vivid dream about you come flooding back. Wanda never thought she'd acted on it, not in reality. The realization is mortifying, but also, she can't help the faint flutter of excitement that twists in her stomach, thinking about how you let it happen. 
“I... I can't believe it,” she whispers, torn between embarrassment and something… forbidden.
For a drawn-out minute, neither of you shifts. It's as if you're both frozen, trapped in the aftershocks of your confession and Wanda's conflicting reactions to it. But before either of you gets the courage to make the first move, the cell door clangs open loudly. 
Both of you jump, startled by the sudden intrusion.
Steve Rogers strides in, looking relieved. “There you are, Y/N. And Wanda?” His brows raise in surprise, likely not expecting to find the two of you in your old cell.
“I have some good news. Wanda, you can have your room to yourself from now on.”
Wanda blinks, looking both relieved and disappointed. But before she can voice any of it, Steve turns to you with a small smile. 
“Because Tony has now assigned yours.”
762 notes · View notes
danikamariewrites · 4 months
Text
Just Us
Mob!Azriel x reader AU
A/n: part 2 is here! Although I don’t really like calling it a part two because I don’t see it as a series, I don’t have a better name for it so we’re just going to call it a series. I just see this as a universe with ongoing stories/one-shit fics and headcanons lol. Thank you for all the love this is getting though! I’m so happy so many of you want to be tagged for these posts ❤️
Warnings: none
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Digging out another option from Mor’s closet I start to panic. Azriel will be here in two hours to pick me up and it feels like every part of me is sweating from nerves. I wipe my hands on my leggings so I can grip the velvet hanger better. I turn to face the chaos Mor and Feyre have created. 
Shoes from each of their closests and mine, eyeshadow pallets, and even more clothing options cover every inch of Mor’s bedroom. It’s all so…intimidating. I’ve been on dates before, but none of those guys were ever worth half the effort I’m putting in for Azriel. Which is probably why I’m freaking out more than normal. 
As I lay out the dress on Mor’s bed my ears finally pick up what Feyre is joyously rambling about. “And then Gavin just backed off. I have never him seen him humbled so fast Mor, oh my gods. It was hilarious.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It was refreshing to see Gavin put in his place. Especially by someone like Azriel. 
I circle the bed eyeing my endless options for dresses. My attention lands on one of Feyre’s black velvet cocktail dresses. It has a corset type bodice with tank top straps and a pleated skirt. It’s perfect. 
Picking it up I break out into a wide grin. Feyre and Mor notice looking at me like proud parents. “What?” I ask with a slight giggle. “It’s just…you’re going on a real date. With a real man. I just feel so proud.” Mor squeaked out, wiping away fake tears. 
I shake my head letting out a shaky sigh. “I like this one, can I wear it, Fey?” “Of course babe. This is going to look amazing on you.” She starts gathering the other dresses as Mor begins to look for shoes to match. Sitting me on the bed Feyre grabs my face and purses her lips in thought. “How do you feel about a very light Smokey eye?” 
A knock on the front door - approximately two hours later - breaks my focus from applying mascara. “I’ll get it!” Mor yells from the living room. Just a few more strokes and I’ll be done. My hand shakes from anticipation. Maybe if I take longer he’ll get impatient and I won’t have to go. 
No, don’t think like that. I deserve a nice date. I shake my body and check myself over in the mirror one last time. I look hot thanks to my best friends' combined effort. “Ok,” I whisper. 
Heading out to the living room I can hear Mor and Feyre talking with him. Gods, I hope they’re avoiding embarrassing topics. When I round the corner my steps stutter. It’s not Azriel in the living room. It’s one of the males he brought into the gallery. The larger one of the two who winked at me. “There she is!” Mor said in a sing-song voice. 
I walk forward and the male reaches his hand out for me to shake. “Hi y/n, I’m Cassian.” I take his hand, his calluses are rough against my palm as I shake his hand. “Hi, I remember you from the gallery. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Azriel?” I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask but I don’t want Cassian to feel like I’m not trusting him or his boss. Cassian smiles at me. “He’s already at the restaurant, he just sent me to pick you up.” I nod and say goodbye to Mor and Feyre before they push me out the door. 
Cassian opens the car door for me, taking my hand to help me up into the high SUV. I thank him before he shuts the door. The ride over to the restaurant was fast and quiet. I think Cassian could tell I’m nervous. When we pull up I notice the small parking lot was oddly empty. 
I audibly swallow, staring out the window at the front door. Cassian opens the door smiling at me with a boyish grin. “Cassian, can I ask you something?” “Sure thing.” Concern flashes across his face. The scar above his brow crinkling in. “I just…is he…” I can’t find the right words to ask my question correctly. Cassian seemed to pull himself up straighter. “I know you know his job but he’s not cruel. Azriel can be guarded at first but I think you’ll get through to him easily. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” He smiles at me again, squeezing my hand in encouragement. I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “You’ve only seen me twice.” “That’s all I need. I know my brother.” 
I nod and take Cassian’s hand again to step out of the car and he ushers me into the restaurant. As I look around I notice the dining room is empty. Most of the tables look like they have been cleared out so a special table could be set up in the middle of the room. Azriel is speaking to the chef and a male I assume is the owner. 
Cassian clears his throat behind me to get Azriel’s attention. When he turns it feels like all the air has been sucked from my lungs. My heart flutters at the bright smile he gives me. His hazel eyes light up as they look me up and down. I finally start breathing again when he stops in front of me. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating. The warm vanilla tones mixed with a light spice fills my nostrils. It’s comforting and makes me want to curl up next to him to breathe it in more. 
Azriel takes my hands in his large scarred ones, bringing them up to his lips to press light kisses across my knuckles. I didn't notice the scars marring them before. They were beautiful. Like a torrent, restless ocean. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.” A blush heats my cheeks, a small smile appearing on my lips from his compliment. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.” 
He drops my hands holding his arm out for me to take like he did in the gallery two days ago. Azriel continues being the gentleman that he is and pulls my seat out for me, pushing me back in, and listens to my answers when he asks me about myself. When it was my turn I asked about his childhood, which seemed to be quite normal given the amount of money his family has. I also couldn’t help but ask why the restaurant was empty.
Azriel sheepishly smiled, looking at his entree for a moment before admitting he bought the place out for the night. “I prefer first dates to be more…intimate, if you will.” I let out a hum, “So you do this for all the girls.” I joke. Azriel looked panicked for a moment. “No,” he got out quickly, “This is, you’re the first one I’ve ever done this for actually.” His voice getting quieter at the end.
My heart leaps at the confession. No one has ever put that much thought into a date with me before and I told him how much I appreciate this.  
“So, how did you get into art?” He asks over dessert. A delicoius crème brûlée with a perfect golden brown sugar coating. I break it with my spoon as I think about how to phrase my answer. "I've always loved art no matter what form it comes in. Paintings, sculpture, digital, all that stuff. I like that people appreciate something pretty or one of a kind, so if I can help them get their hands on it, it makes me happy."
I look at him, shoveling the sweet creamy treat in my mouth. Azriel smiles at me adoringly. Those hazel eyes twinkling with what I'd like to think is love. "That's amazing. Besides the two I got, how many paintings have you sold?" I let out a short, cold laugh thinking about how pissed Gavin was that I made a sale. "You were my first customer. and probably my last. As I know you heard my boss say I'm just an intern. I really should've called him but it was the end of the day so what was the harm."
Azriel shook his head. A dissaproving look takes over his beautiful face as he remembers the scene he walked in on yesterday. "I was ready to punch him." Azriel admits. "He had no right to talk to you like that. But I must say, you were a natural my dear. I probably wouldn't have bought the paintings wihtout your knowledge on them."
"Thank you." I say surprised that soemone didn't find my knowledge about art annoying.
When we finished the chef came out to say goodbye along with the owner. Azriel offered me his arm again but I took a chance twinning my fingers through his. We glance down at our joined hands. I smile lightly at the comfort I feel when I hold it. Azriel looks shocked that I would even go near his hands. "Is this ok?" I ask softly. He seems at a loss for words just nodding and staring at me like a boy realizing he has a crush for the first time.
The whole car ride back to my apartment Azriel doesn't let go of my hand. I rest them on my lap and gently rub my thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. When Cassian comes to stop in front of my apartment my heart sinks. I don't want Azriel to go. I'm not ready for tonight to be over.
"I got it Cass." Azriel says before Cassian can unbuckle. He leads me up the short steps, stopping on the landing. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Feyre and Mor crouched down on the couch. Their eyes just peeking over the window sill. Ignoring them I turn my attention back to Azriel who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we left the restaurant.
He slips his other hand in mine pulling me slightly closer to him. “I had a wonderful time with you. And I really want to see you again.” Without hesitation I say yes, “I’d love to.” Azriel’s smile seemed to get wider. I must say, he’s not at all what I thought he’d be like. Not knowing how to say goodbye we stumble over our words for a moment until Azriel’s expression became serious. His face mere inches from mine now. “Can I kiss you, y/n.” Something about my name on his lips just seemed so right. “Yes,” I whisper.
Azriel’s lips are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The kiss is soft yet passionate and full of a desire I don’t think either of us would be able to sate. Pulling away for air I feel Azriel’s hands slip down my neck and pull away from my body. I hadn’t realized he was holding me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” I nod, speechless. The air once again sucked from my lungs.
I slowly open the front door giving him a small wave before shutting it. Leaning against the wood I listen for his graceful retreating footsteps, the car door, and the engine as Cassian takes off down the street.
My heart won’t stop pounding. I rest a hand over my chest, a stupid smile on my lips as I’m off in my own fantasy world.
tags (accounts I couldn’t tag in bold): @amara-moonlight @harrystylesfan2686 @kalulakunundrum @thinkingofmatthewfairchild @just-a-social-casualty-1 @insecuritieeseatmealive @teenageeggscissorslawyer @theladystardust @thehighladywrites @callmeblaire @luell1q @meshellexplosionmurder @verena9003 @starsinyoureyes @mich0731 @yourfutur3lov3r @samanthalynn13 @enchantedatheart
272 notes · View notes