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hoshigray · 29 days

Note

Just want to start and say hiiiii I love the work you put out and I can't get over how amazing they are. Since you said your inbox is open I was thinking about Life Guard Choso and a little lips to lips action by the pool side at night. Include anything else you see fit I don't mind☺️.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg tyyyy !! and yippee, a choso request :DD haven't written for him in a long while

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: lifeguard! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing; making out - sexual acts in a public place; hotel pool room - breast fondling + sucking - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! + f! receiving) - praising - implied v +p insertion (ends with cowgirl) - implied unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - cameo: Nobara (best friend) - Choso having a lil crush on reader, and lowkey being horny on the job, lawl - reader lowkey being flirty and taking the lead role.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

“Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…!”

As lifeguarding night shifts go, last night’s had to be the most bewildering Choso has ever endured.

He sits on the lifeguard chair, observing the indoor pool area inside the hotel where he’s working during spring break. Luckily, there weren’t many customers coming to use the pool during his shifts — especially the night ones. So, all Choso had to do was watch the hours go by, go to his lunch break, and occasionally come back if he was called in for the night shift.

What sounds like a manageable task turns out to be otherwise because someone is sitting at the edge of the pool and captures Choso’s observant brown eyes from time to time. It’s you, sitting at the edge with your feet submerged in the water as you converse with your friend — he picks up their name is Nobara – about the joys of your spring break adventures for the past few days.

Your frequent giggles and sweet voice are difficult for him to ignore, sneaking glances under his cap to see you, shooting himself internally for taking advantage to look at you in your cute one-piece swimsuit that hugged your curves nicely. And then the warmth of his blood swiftly changes to freezing temperature when your eyes land on him, averting his gaze back into the water before him.

The ripples of the water have him thinking back on the night shift last night, his cheeks reddening as he recollects the memories…

It was a lonely shift as Choso was the only person in the indoor pool area. It wasn’t until the hour touched two hours behind midnight when the door opened and came you. As someone who’s been lowkey crushing on you for the past few days, this immediately became the worst-case scenario for the young lifeguard, forced to gawk and examine your graceful swimming and two-piece figure.

He’s been doing that for a solid fifteen minutes, suffering in silence while his eyes scan the curves of your thighs and legs and follow the droplets of water trickle down to your cleavage. Eyeing you with such indecency, what an inappropriate thing as a lifeguard.

And it comes back to bite him on the ass when you walk out of the pool and approach him to his chair, startling the pecan brown-haired hotel worker. “Hey there,” you say so charmingly, practically inviting him with just the greeting. “I can’t help but think you’re lonely here just watching me swim…Would you humor me and accompany me? Would feel bad I’m the reason you’re here doing your job at such a late hour…”

Choso knew he should shoot down the offer as he was still on duty. However, judging by how it was nearly an hour and a half from closing the pool and that most of the other hotel workers were gone, a tiny part of him was pinching him to accept the proposal of his mini-crush. It’s just a swim, in the water and out, right…?

That’s what he kept telling himself as he was following and talking with you in the pool; although every time you referred to him by his name, swam circles around his rigid body, or tittered at his words, that statement was demonstrated worthless. The lights from inside the water illuminated your frame lured Choso in with every minute, your eyes sparkling like the broken surface tension of the water.

“Hey, Choso,” God, he couldn’t believe you were calling him by his name; it sounded too dreamlike to be reality. “Have you ever given someone CPR?”

“Uhh, yeah, like once or twice,” he replied while averting his eyes to the other side of the room as if that would help his pinkish blush not be seen by you.

“Really?” You probed, bringing your frame for the water to reach your chin. “You must know the procedure pretty well, then…Hey, let me test you then!”

Huh? “What now?”

“Okay, I’m gonna pretend to drown, and you do whatever lifeguard procedure you do to get me out of the water.” You said it with such a beaming attitude that Choso couldn’t tell if you were serious. They can’t be serious…And then, you took a giant breath before allowing your body to be completely submerged in the water, sinking to the pool floor.

Choso looked to where you were for about five seconds; you two were at around the 4th or 5th feet of the pool — there’s no way you had to be serious. But five seconds turned to ten, and you didn’t exhibit any signs of wanting to breach. It caused his jaw to drop; no shot, they’re actually serious!

With haste, Choso waddles down to your spot and drives himself into the water, taken aback in perplexity when you greeted him with a wave. He then brings a hand under your legs and one to your shoulder, breaching with you in bridal style. He voices his bafflement, “Wh–What was that idea?”

“Hahaha, took you long enough; you’re a pretty terrible lifeguard for taking your sweet time rescuing me!” You jest to him, the comment poking right through Choso’s stature and dignity.

“I didn’t know you were serious or not…”

“Drowning is always a serious issue,” you bat your eyes at him before poking the mark across his face. It wasn’t until then that Choso realized how close he had you, your face two inches away from his, and the top of your two-piece now in his line of sight for your cleavage to capture his dangerous curiosity. He turns his head to show some modesty he has left, but it’s too late; you saw him. A twinge of your lip forms a pleasant grin, “Well, you know what happens next, right?”

He blinks and brings his face back in your direction. Surely you didn’t mean that, asking the following to make sure, “Wh…What?”

“Mouth-to-mouth, of course!” Oh, this was going way too far, the poor lifeguard holding you frozen still at your goal. “Why, you don’t want to put your lips on me? Or were you sneaking glances at me these past few days for nothing?” Another arrow that shot him down; you knew!? “You’re not quite subtle, you know. Hehe, but I find that kinda cute.”

Choso tried to explain himself, but what only came out was stammers and squeaks. Your gaze had him internally nervous and exposed, so you had to poke him even more, “So? Are you gonna leave your drowning rescuee’s lips alone or save me?”

He gulped at the phrasing, struggling to find the words to give to you. Not you were giving him a chance because your face was moving closer to his every second he didn’t answer. And when your eyelids come down, Choso hesitantly does as well and brings his lips onto your soft ones.

The first peck was long, yet sweetly introduced you two together. You snaked your hand up his pecs to his neck, inviting him to kiss you a second time. His restraint dissolved with every sedation of your lips on his, and it vanished wholly when his ears picked up a moan. He becomes more adventurous and chews on your bottom lip, and the whimper you let out ignites something that he’s been dying to contain for this long.

A hot and steamy kiss that was built up to happen here and now, and Choso relishes having you like this like it’s a dream. You break the kiss with a gasp for air, panting alongside him with a smile. “Well then, do I have to tell you what should happen next, too?”

When Choso silently leads you out of the pool with him, you are pleased that you don’t have to.

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

Choso moved you to one of the cushioned chaise lounge chairs to lie as he ripped you off your bottoms and greeted your lower half with attention. Being between your legs was far from what he ever imagined; however, with how you tase on his tongue and the wails you’re letting out for him, he can’t find it in himself to stop now.

He licks your clit with a circle, and you squeak at the motion. “Mmmm…feeling’ good there, Y/n?”

“Ohhh, yesss, oh yessss,” you respond with a hazed expression, letting your euphoric sounds fill the quiet indoor pool room occupied by you two. “Fuuuck, lick me more, please…”

Even your requests to him were dear to his ears, obliging your folds with feverish laps and swirls. Your cries become louder, legs jolting with ever every lave and suck of your leaking fluids. But Choso holds you by the thighs, massage them to relax your body. Damn, you felt so soft to his fingers, wanting to have his hands on you for as long as he can.

You bite your lip when your hand grabs tuffs of his down brunette hair, egging him to give your clitoris more kisses and hurried licks that almost have you choke on your spit. “Oh, myGod—Mmmph! You’re so good at this, Choso…Ahhhh, oh fuck, feels too gooood…!”

Choso lifts his head to lock his chocolate eyes with yours, examining your reaction when he switches his tongue with a forefinger bullying inside your vagina. The insertion has your bold jerk upwards, squirming at the finger that’s scraping the velvety texture of your vaginal walls. He then kisses from your thigh up to your abdomen, sucking on your skin to tease. Once he comes up to your top piece, he uses his free hand to bring it up and finally releases your breasts for his eyes to survey. His mouth doesn’t waste time having a nipple inside, licking on the bud as he gropes the other breast.

“Ahhnn! Hahhh, hehe, you look so hot doing that,” you comment, making the young man sneak a glance at you before he sucks and nibbles on the nipple. His finger inside your cunt goes faster, having you whine when his thumb comes to your clit. Swipes to the delicate button erupt howls from your agape mouth, “Ohhhh, Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…pleaseee, don’t stop…!”

He withdrew from your nipple with a soft “pop” from his lips, bringing his face inches close to yours. “Gonna cum on my fingers, yeah?” He asks to distract you from the sneaking middle finger that invades between your folds. The two digits work together to reach places you couldn’t, rubbing and scratching your inner walls with tips.

“Yesss, yesss, I’m gonna cum…! More, more—Oh, Ohooo!” Choso kisses you again, and you happily mewl into his lips as your orgasm climbs up with the pace of his fingers and his thumb pressing and swiping on your clit. Your chasm clamps onto his digits, bringing your hands to his face to keep the kiss going as your climax hits you.

Shocks from your body prompt you to tremble under him, the walls of your slit contract around his fingers, and your hips involuntarily sway to ride out the phases of your clarity. You suck on Choso’s tongue; his groans are music to your ears while your hand travels down to his swim trunks and feels the tent of his groin.

He moans, breaking the kiss to look where your hand is. You chuckle, “It’s time to return the favor. Come on, let’s switch.”

He follows your lead and takes the position you had previously, watching you situate yourself between his legs as you bring his trunks down to have his erection spring out. He panics a little when you gasp aloud while marveling at his limb, “My, what a long thing you were hiding from me…”

Your compliment has the blush on his ears scorch him with unbearable heat, and you keep eye contact while your plump lips place kisses on the sensitive pink tip of his cock. He hitches his breath at the contact, especially at your hand, grasping his length and beginning stroking motions.

Your tongue dances around his glans and presses on the frenulum, nibbling on the rough skin while your free hand goes to his testicles, softly kneading them to provoke moans to leave his lips. “Such cute sounds from such a cute guy; keep making more for me, okay?” He places a hand on your head, a sign that you take initiative to pop his dick into your mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, you take in Choso’s shaft inch by inch, the warmth of your mouth doing wonders to his senses. A hand grips the cushion of the tongue chair he’s lying on, and shivers crawl up his spine when you mumble after taking it to the hilt as your voice travels through his body.

“Mmmm…Nngohh, fuck,” he curses with furrowed brows, biting his lip when sensing your tongue lick the underside of his cock. Fuck, your mouth felt so damn good — it took everything for Choso not to rut into your mouth voluntarily. Your tight throat didn’t make it any better, and the walls enveloping his entire girth had him drooling.

Puffed cheeks suck on him leisurely, your lips coated from the saliva covering him, the noises so erotic and out of this world. You continue to massage his balls while your mouth occupies him, alternating with your hands to go down and suck on his balls roughly.

Here is where Choso finds it hard to contain himself with every second, his thighs jerking with every sign of pleasure, throwing his head back when his dick is back inside your gummy throat. Hips subtly propel to your mouth to create more friction, and he whimpers as you happily accept him with mumbled wails and restlessly jerk him off.

“—Kahhnn, nnmgh, shit, Yn,” your name sounds like a dazed slur, the hand purchased on your head eggs you to go faster. He almost bites his tongue when yours teases his urethra for more of his precum, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming…shiiit, ohh…!”

And you give him aid, sucking on his cock harder and bobbing frantically while you use both your hands to pleasure him more. The commotion of his lower half corrupts all of his senses, hanging by a thread to hang on and howl your name out. One last lap and harsh suck on his glans induces a choked groan, and Choso finally ejaculates into your mouth.

With the thirst pump, you instantly take him back inside your throat, drinking every bit of his load exuding from his throbbing member. He thrusts as you suck him, his orgasm shaking his being with every rut and sob. He heaves and pants, your name said in helpless prayers while you suck his soul out. And, God, does he fucking love it so.

You give him mercy and release his shaft, placing more tiny kisses on it while watching Choso’s quaking frame calm down. And when he does, you bring your body off from between his legs. “Thank you for saving me, Choso.” You crawl to place a gentle kiss on his lips with a hum, and then you relish the cute sounds he makes as your wet cunt meets his length.

“Let me reward you by pampering you more...”

“….—op, don’t stare at him so hard!”

“Is that him?”

Choso snaps back to the present when he hears familiar voices speak — it is you and Nobara he finds that are looking at you from across the poolside. Nobara being the one staring dead at him; your best friend’s eyes feel like daggers piercing Choso’s pale skin. It made him gulp with nervousness.

Then, she cocks her head and leans to speak. “Doesn’t look so bad; don’t know about that mark on his face, though…How long was it, again?”

“Shhh, be quiet!” You slap her arm to silence her, making the mistake of looking at Choso. You two look into each other’s gazes for a few seconds, the warmth of your cheeks creeping up and having you two sever your faces elsewhere.

Nobara saw the exchange, lifting a brow before asking you, “So, do you want me to give him your number, or would you like to fuck him again before that—Oww!!“ Another slap to her bare shoulder, she winces this time.

“Jesus Christ, shut up!”

@screampied 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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honey-on-your-tongue · 8 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara manhandling you,

grabbing you by the hips, tossing you onto the bed or the couch or whichever piece of furniture is closest.

The moment you get to his place, he's just on you, his touch everywhere, enormous hands lifting you up effortlessly.

“Ven acá,” come here, he murmurs, his mouth hungry for yours, his every kiss sloppy as he takes over your mind and your body.

You're a toy to him, a little doll he can dress up and dress down, move however he wants, play with to his heat's content.

While he fucks you, he just tosses you around, puts you into whichever position he wants you in without a drop of effort. He grabs you and flips you upside down, placing you on all fours. He spreads your legs with his huge hands, pushing your thighs apart. He arches your back, one of his hands forcing your chest against the mattress while the other one angles your hips. And then he's ramming into you again.

“There you go, muñequita, just let me do the work,” he groans, watching as his cock slides in and out, your slick dripping onto him.

He loves how you're putty in his hands, so soft, so easy for him to use as he pleases. You become a pretty little rag doll, all obedient and pliable the second he kisses you or touches you.

Let's not even mention when he actually fucks you. You might as well exist just for his pleasure. There's nothing you won't do for him, not a single thing you'd deny him. And he knows it. He never takes advantage of that, but the fact turns him on.

You're his pretty little toy, his muñequita, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

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@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy

*if you want me to add you to my taglist, comment or send me a message <3

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Blog masterlist

#miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara

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wildwestdean · 3 months

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

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ghostandsoap · 6 months

Text

Feeling You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader Tags: Light smut. Cockwarming. Ghost being a softie. Word Count: 1.0k "Just happy you're here."

⋆˙⟡ ♡⋆˙⟡

In the quiet sanctuary of your shared solitude, you and Ghost sat chest to chest, your hearts beating in a rhythm that echoed the symphony of your love.

The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other's presence, your souls whispering secrets that only you could understand.

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, blurring the lines between where one ended and the other began. Your breaths intermingled, a testament to the intimacy that you shared. Each inhale was a silent promise, each exhale was a sigh of contentment.

The only sounds were your breathing, heartbeats, and the occasional whimper from you when Ghost shifted his hips underneath you.

Ghost's cock was nestled far inside of you, his tip pushed against a sensitive spot that you didn't even know existed until just now. He stretched your walls so perfectly and sat so comfortably inside of you that Ghost felt high off of it.

You had soaked his thighs and lower stomach, your arousal leaking on and around him. You weren't much better, because your inner thighs were dripping.

The two of you were spending the week together, not a single plan or obligation to be had. Ghost had every intention of staying in and keeping you as close as possible. It wasn't often that he had this opportunity, and he would be a fool to let it pass him by. The week consisted of movies, snacks, cuddles, and just about anything else that didn't require either of you to leave.

The two of you had been lounging on your living room sofa, just watching some cheesy documentary that you both agreed to watch. It was more for filler noise than anything, because the two of you had managed to chat with one another through the entirety of it.

When the film was over, you turned off the TV and your side table lamp to prepare to close your flat up for the night -- however, Ghost wanted just a few more minutes.

This was about an hour ago when Ghost had set you up on his lap. Mainly just because he liked having the chance to look up at you and he loved watching you sit on his thick, muscular thighs.

Frankly though, he hadn't anticipated this.

Somewhere along the way, your cotton sleep shorts and T-shirt were discarded, along with his sweats. Your clothes were tossed aside to be retrieved in the morning.

The two of you had shared some sweet kisses, and all the shifting around prompted Ghost to slide his cock into you slowly when you were wet and ready.

However, Ghost held you still when you tried to bounce on him, which caused you to raise a brow. Ghost was sitting up straight against the back of the couch, holding onto you in his lap like you were his lifeline. It took you a few moments to settle into this arrangement that he was making.

Eventually, the two of you morphed around one another like you were the most perfect fit. Like two pieces of the most beautiful picture.

It was inevitable for you to start squirming though. After all, it was hard to resist him when he was literally right under you.

Ghost groaned and huffed when you rolled your hips forward, one of his hands coming to your hip to restrain you.

"Sit still," He said, kissing your forehead. "I just want to feel you for a bit."

"Sorry," You sighed, head still resting on his shoulder. "Just getting comfortable."

"It's alright, doll..." He chuckled. "Just happy you're here."

Ghost's fingers traced paths of affection on your skin, each touch igniting sparks that danced beneath the surface. The silence returned, filled with the unspoken words of love that hung heavy in the air.

In this moment, you were not just two bodies sitting chest to chest; you were two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of love. Your connection was palpable, a force that defied logic and reason.

As the two of you sat there, Ghost realized that he was living a life he never thought he would ever have. He was experiencing a love that was uniquely his. A kind of love that he once thought he was far too damaged and broken for.

"You're so beautiful," He almost whispered. "My pretty girl..."

You pulled your head back to look at him, your eyes sleepy and cheeks glowing. He loved you so much he could barely even understand it.

"I love you." You remarked, rotating your hips in a way that was more involuntary than anything else.

Ghost couldn't help but let out a low laugh when your grinding down against him was returned with a slow, yet firm snap of his pelvis into you. He knew that this charade wouldn't last long, because one of you was going to crack sooner or later.

"I love you." He returned, his lips meeting yours in a meaningful kiss.

He didn't stop you this time when you started to rock your hips against his cock, the feeling of moving inside of you causing a flutter of his eyes.

He couldn't deny you any longer. He had to let you have your way with him. Truth be told, it was starting to drive him a bit mad anyways.

Your movements along with Ghost's were slow and careful...sensual. He wanted to feel you for as long as he possibly could. He would do this forever and ever if he could.

His cock felt insane inside of you as you fucked him at such a glacial pace. It was insanity because Ghost couldn't believe that he could ever deserve something as good as this...someone as good as you.

The slow rise and fall of your body onto his made both of your hearts begin to beat faster. The two of you craving the other like you were the only source of life.

And in the sound of your shared heartbeat, you found a melody that only your hearts could compose.

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chososdiscordkitten · 20 days

Text

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him.

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly.

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together.

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze.

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke.

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy.

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face.

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look.

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before.

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?”

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could.

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill.

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest.

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did.

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on.

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips.

“Please, be honest.”

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.”

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say.

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’.

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.”

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.”

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time.

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose.

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon.

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain.

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around.

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths.

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office.

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in.

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought.

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow.

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers.

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep.

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time.

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper.

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him.

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side.

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms.

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind.

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged.

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin.

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words.

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his.

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot.

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help.

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent.

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him.

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently.

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it.

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself.

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy.

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips.

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together.

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with.

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you.

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted.

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there.

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued.

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed.

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service.

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk.

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress.

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him.

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze.

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore.

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles.

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper.

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal.

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him.

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame.

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him.

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him.

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation.

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions.

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands.

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before-

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges.

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.”

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man.

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.”

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now.

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk.

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office.

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him.

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time.

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly.

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?”

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom.

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk.

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far.

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue.

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip.

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast.

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his.

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea.

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear.

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle.

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone.

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission.

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore.

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh.

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for.

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock.

“You deserve to be helped,”

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to.

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find.

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline.

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build.

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan.

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was.

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them.

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it.

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you.

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties.

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse.

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working.

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned.

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed.

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks.

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh.

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance.

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you.

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss.

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you.

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan.

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still.

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be.

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted.

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile.

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could.

“I want you.”

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest.

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in.

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made.

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster.

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church.

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping.

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment.

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes.

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm.

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan.

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you.

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head.

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you.

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t.

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it.

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity.

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man.

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment.

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

960 notes · View notes

httpdollie · 6 months

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OBSESSIVE FANBOY! CHOSO KAMO X FEM! READER HCS

warning: yandere themes, stalking, dub-con, coercion, breeding, whiny perv!choso, dancer! choso, manipulation, somno, dark content (i’m not responsible for the content you consume)

request are closed for one piece

blank blogs and minors will get blocked ( i check)

Fanboy! Choso who makes kpop choreo and kpop reaction videos on youtube and has a huge fanbase of his own

Fanboy! Choso who found out about you on kpop stan twitter after your group debuted and blew up after your b-side music video was released

Fanboy! Choso quickly fell in love with your beauty and talent as the center and lead vocalist in your group

Fanboy! Choso who loves how contrasting his grunge aesthetic is compared to the soft colours your wore all the time

Fanboy! Choso who’s very openly obsessed with you, to the point where it annoys his brothers sometimes

Fanboy! Choso who has to hide the fact he’s a solo stan on his youtube but watches fancams and edits of you all the time

Fanboy! Choso who’s dedicated and shows up to every single one of your concerts even if it’s not in his country, when he’s been questioned by a fan once he claimed it cause he was interested in making choreo for the group

Fanboy! Choso who’s has a anon account that has over 16.K followers on kpop twitter for having an insane photo card collection and posting selcas and edited fancams and simply being a fan that knows an intense amount about you (but no one cares cause he also posts hand pics)

Fanboy! Choso who forces his brothers so listen to your group and pick a bias and secretly got annoyed when yuji said he also biases you.

Fanboy! Choso who has fans that feed into the delusion that the two of you are soulmates and make fan edits and fanfiction of you guys ( he reads and watches them religiously)

Fanboy Choso who has every version of lightstick you have, his obsession is so bad he had to make new bookshelves to hold all his stuff (seasons greetings packs , postcards, framed pictures, signed shirts, albums and cd’s)

Fanboy! Choso who accidentally made his way into the toxic side of your fandom and made friends with other stan’s and would highkey be a toxic fan and dox anti’s

Fanboy! Choso who goes crazy when you get asked what your type is said your type was alt guys and dark hair, he immediately tweeted how “y/n literally made that comment about me guys!” not realizing his was on his main account…

Fanboy! Choso who almost died when he realized your group member account liked his tweet

Fanboy! Choso who religiously watches variety show and interviews with you because he adores your voice, mannerisms and personality

Fanboy! Choso who stalks your instagram account daily and rewatches your stories and scrolls through your posts

Fanboy! Choso who loses his shit when your manager reached out to him to make choreo for the title track of your first full album, he plays his cards safe and makes a very cute yet alluring

Fanboy! Choso who’s swears luck is on his side when he sees you moving into an apartment complex after working with you, he spotted with a security moving boxes into a lobby and truly started questioning of god existed

Fanboy! Choso who just happened to move to the apartment complex across from yours, acting surprised when you finally bump into each other, he felt like he was insane for doing it but felt so relieved after he saw how you smiled at him; makes him feel like anything is worth it if it’s for you

Fanboy! Choso almost had a heart attack when you dropped by to give him a welcome to the apartment complex by giving him a cake, and coffee mentioning how you’ve seen a couple of his videos and knows what he likes (he thought his cover was blown and almost started crying and apologizing on the spot until you said you want him to help you with choreo)

Fanboy! Choso who has a album on his phone dedicated to you of videos he took while training without you knowing, specifically pics he took and refuses to show to anyone, including his brother

Fanboy! Choso remembers when his ex said he was very hardworking and how she admired it, and hopes he’s good enough for you

Fanboy! Choso who feels so guilty everytime you post, he can’t help but get a hard on

Fanboy Choso who makes choreo for your group for the second time and feels so guilty about making it more sexual than normal but says it’s for a new “sugar and spice” concept for your comeback

Fanboy! Choso who acts so innocent when he grabs your ass or your tits telling you how he didn’t mean to

Fanboy! Choso who’s guilt immediately washed away when he sees you performing such a sexual dance in frilly form fitting dresses, miniskirts and thigh highs all done up like a doll, he felt zero shame in recording

Fanboy! Choso who made cum tributes to your normal pictures

Fanboy! Choso who dyes the a skunk stripe the same colour as yours every comeback (even if you’re wearing a wig or not) as a way of remind him of you

Fanboy! Choso who buys the perfume you wear, spraying it on dirty clothes of yours he stole to smell while he jerks off to panty shots he took, the second he cums he feels so guilty

Fanboy! Choso who sneaks into your room and jerks off to your pretty face and body while you sleep with your panties wrapped around his cock

Fanboy! Choso who can’t help but feel you up, kissing your neck gently, telling you how pretty you look and how talented and beautiful you are whenever you train together

Fanboy! Choso who tampers with your birth control til it’s ineffective so you go off it not knowing why it stopped working

Fanboy! Choso who loses control after you train in a pink miniskirt and white cami with no bra

Fanboy! Chose who loves using you in your sleep, leaving you nice, full and confused for the morning

Fanboy! Choso who can’t stop apologizing while he has you pressed against the couch, hands pinned together with one of his while the other rubs and caresses your tits and tights oh so gently, kissing your neck softly muttering about how sorry he is when he pressed his bulge against your cunt. whimpering about how warm and pretty you are and how good he wants to make ou feel.

“Oh fuck bunny, you’re so tight.” He groaned loudly, watching your eyes shut tight as he pounded you into your couch. “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t hold back anymore- you look so good in this skirt, and your tits were practically falling out of your shirt like a slut… Ah fuck!” He said, unapologetically. Continuing to slam his thick cock deeper and deeper into you.

You felt your legs tingle as he has them pressed next to your ears, leaning forward pressing a sloppy kiss along your jawline peppering your cheek before kissing your lips, oh so passionately. His eagerness and desire for you practically had you dripping for him when he first lifted your miniskirt.

He picked up the pace, chasing closer and closer to his climax, whimpering and moaning into your mouth. You felt his tip kiss against your cervix, making your toes curl as he reached deep inside your puffy pussy. “I’m gonna cum bunny, fuck! I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy!” He moaned against your lips. feeling you squirm under him squeaking about not being on birth control. Your pushy clenching around him while you panicked, making his heavy dick twitch inside you.

“Choso! Oh my god! Pull out, it’s not safe for me!”

“Oh fuck don’t say that- I can’t stop, baby your practically milking my cock! I’m sorry bunny!” he groaned loudly before pressing his lips against yours, holding you down while his cum flooded your cunt. “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” he whispered apologetically. Kissing you more tenderly to show his apology. His actions saying otherwise as you felt him get hard again as pushed his cum deeper inside you.

Fanboy! Choso who begs you to go along with a fantasy for weeks before you actually do it because he was so needy, so you finally go stage with a heart shaped plug in you pretty cunt, making sure you keep your cum inside you when you talk to your fans during a fan meet

Fanboy! Choso who exposes his obsession with you after he blindfolded you and took you to his bedroom, he took it off while he was balls deep inside you begging for you to make him a good daddy

Fanboy! Choso who leaks a sex tape of you all fucked out and dripping with his cum so he can have you all to himself…

#— dolly writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #kamo choso #kamo choso x reader #yandere jjk #yandere!choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #kamo choso smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #— dolly’s dark thoughts 💭

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daisybianca · 4 months

Text

pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: ruining Lando's live stream is your favorite thing to do when in the mood.

warnings: female masturbation, mention of sexual actions, cursing words

(a/n): lando's recent stream look. I'm unwell.

YOUR HEADPHONES WERE filled with the sweet melody of Taylor Swift's "London Boy" and then you remembered that in the next room of the house you really did have a London Boy waiting for you.

Your boyfriend had one of his usual streams, and it was always your choice to step away from the place where he was doing them and not take part in it. You didn't like the idea of giving fans more content about your relationship than there already was.

By changing the song of the playlist, you settled on something more freaky, like the wreeknd.

Hearing Lando's voice and loud laugh echoing from the next room, you opened the app on your phone and joined his live stream.

Your username was a random name that only Lando recognized.

God, he was so hot.

Messy curly hair, an unbuttoned white t-shirt, and grey plaid pants.

He had heard your wish to let his beard grow long, and you loved every moment of it. Watching the screen intently, listening to his strong accent through the device and from the adjacent wall, you felt your heart flutter loudly. Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw from the screen Lando laughing at something and pulling back, spreading his legs widly while bending his head back.

Swallowing, you decided to write a message in the comments that only he would recognize "Turn off the Stream and come over here. Im in the mood."

A few seconds later, he read it. He didn't say anything. He just smiled.

Again, you chose to write the same comment in case he didn't pay much attention to it the first time.

"I'm not shutting down the live. If anyone wants to tell me something, they can come here and tell me themselves."

You smiled and turned off your phone.

Is that how he wanted it? With games?

He asked and shall receive.

You got out of bed, opening your closet and wearing the most revealing and slutty piece of clothing you owned. You also put on a pair of high heels and began to walk slowly towards the next room.

The door was closed so you touched the handle and began to open it gently.

Two beautiful eyes met yours. Then they scanned you from head to toes.

Whatever Lando was trying to tell his viewers was now forever gone.

His jaw closed and he licked his lips. His eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

Bringing a finger to your lips, you murmued "Shhh."

You felt his eyes follow you as you closed the door and sat comfortably on the couch across from him.

You weren't, of course, visible on the camera. And your boyfriend did his best not to show his viewers the uncomfortable situation he was in. He kept talking, but you were sure he didn't understand what he was saying either.

You stopped looking at him and tried to forget the fact that you had to be discreet because thousands of people were somehow in the room with you.

Spreading your legs, you pushed your warm hand where you wished Lando's was right now.

You immediately shuddered at the very first contact. Twisting your body a little, you gave your boyfriend a better angle of your wet--dripping actually--spot.

His eyes never abandoned you. At one point, you heard him hissing plaid from his breath. "Fuck." His voice made you shudder. "Thats it." He said and closed the live show without saying anything else to his audience.

You stopped the movements and touches on your body and looked at him throwing the headphones on the chair and walking briskly over to you.

That's my boy.

"You want to fucking make me come in front of thousands of people? Huh?" He walked towards you and started unbuttoning his pants. You just smirked and bit your bottom lip. "Acting like a little brat, getting treated like one, right?" He grabbed your neck and forced you to him. After taking one huge taste of your lips, he let you down and removed his white t-shirt. "Open your legs. You're lucky I didn't choose to fuck you live, baby."

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acapelladitty · 6 days

Note

Okay, I haven't finished the show yet, but I NEED more Cooper content and you did amazingly last time. That being said, I NEED (am asking you politely, whenever you have time and/or wish to write this) Cooper being overstimulated. Pretty please, and much thanks!

- Supervillain-Smut

For you baby? Anything! Have some Cooper being overstimmed and teased just below the read more 👀💦😈

Of the many downsides which came with the Ghoul transformation, arguably one of the worst which Cooper had long come to terms with was the loss of sensation across the leathered skin which covered his body. A valuable boon in a shootout, it let him focus his attention on the action at hand without worrying too much about the damage, but when the guns were holstered and the cold nights settled in, that same loss of sensation was a right pain in the ass when he was trying to get his rocks off.

Although, it was a reality of his situation which didn't seem to affect her and the wickedly cruel things she enjoyed putting him through on a regular basis.

"Come on, handsome."

Perched atop his thighs as she stroked her soft hand along his painfully hard cock, her warmth seeped into his own as it took every piece of willpower in his old bones to not knock her to the floor and sink himself as deeply into her cunt as he could to get some relief.

But a bet was a bet, and he wasn't one to give up without a good fight.

Already having been pulled back from the edge of release twice, his cock felt heavy and overheated as it jutted against his stomach. A small patch of pre-cum decorated the leathery skin where the livid head of his cock brushed against him with every jerk and slight cant of his hips.

"It looks almost painful, Coop." She mused, trailing the pads of her fingers along the prominent veins which lined his cock - the texture there something he knew she was fascinated by as it often stretched her out in ways that had her muffling her cries into his shoulders. "Maybe we should stop. Give it a little time to rest."

"Promises, promises, handsome."

"If you stop touchin' me, darling, then I'm not gonna be responsible for the outcome." Cooper grunted, the final word glancing up at the final syllable as her soft thumb rubbed a solid line across the ridge where his shaft met the head - a sensation which made his balls tighten and his throat stutter as it fired intense waves of pleasure across his stiff frame. "I'd throw you to the floor and show you things that not even the monsters who walk alongside the worst of them would dream about."

"Tastes like you."

"One I intend to keep, darli-fuck."

Hissing the expletive as her pointer finger teased at his slit, she gathered a small bead of his pre-cum and brought it to her lips. With a salacious flick, she swallowed down the slight taste with a pleasant hum.

Unable to help the grinding of his hips, Cooper bucked subtly into the air as he watched her filthy actions. Those same lips had sucked him dry many a time with such finesse that he found himself going out of his way to perform little acts of kindness for her in the hope that she'd see fit to grace him with another performance.

"Quit teasin' and get to it before I blow a hole in your head and finish myself off." He warned, hands gripping her thighs so roughly that he knew little crescent bruises would soon loom in the area.

Obviously ignoring his threat, her hand dropped to cup at his balls roughly, squeezing and rolling them between her fingers as a growl of pained arousal made his cock twitch, untouched.

"Oh, it's gonna blow alright. But only when you've been good enough to deserve it."

A bet was a bet.

And Cooper Howard would be a stubborn son of a bitch to the bitter end as he twisted his lips into an off-kilter smile and forced himself to relax into her touch.

"Whatever you say, darlin'."

#love a stubborn motherfucker with all my heart lmao #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #ghoul #the ghoul #ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoul x you #walton goggins

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neteyamsyawntu · 19 days

Text

Violent Little Thing

Neteyam x Bratty Na'vi!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, vulgar language, angst, smut, size difference, brat behavior, dom Nete, P in V, friends to lovers, belly bulge

Things hadn’t always been so… intense between you and Neteyam. Once you were nearly inseparable, tied at the hip since childhood. It was an understatement to say that you were with each other at every waking moment, whether it be through sparring, training, hunting, or even weaving together. While most in the clan saw you as wild, Neteyam was your rock. When it became apparent that you weren’t going to grow much more than your current height and the others in your age group began to heckle you for it, Neteyam, aside from sending a few poison laced stares their way, helped you train to push your body so that you wouldn’t fall behind. Yet as the two of you grew older and matured, or rather when Neteyam’s training as the future Olo’eyktan became his main priority, the two of you spent less and less time together, until at last you couldn’t help but think that Teyam was flat out avoiding you.

Any advances you made to bridge the growing gap between the two of you only fell flat, until you were tired of fighting. Fighting for him and the relationship you once had. You accepted that this was just him “growing into his own” and “fulfilling his duties as future Olo’eyktan”, yet still a small piece of you couldn’t help, as you watched him from afar where Neteyam had brought your training group to strengthen your fighting strategies with a tang of longing in your chest. Today’s main focus was on using your natural surroundings to your advantage. The spot that Neteyam had chosen was the most dense of forest that you could get for such practices; with winding tree roots and vines galore to climb, swing, and push off of to make quick escapes or sneak attacks. Today, you realized, would be no different from any of the previous training days. Despite the forced proximity between you and Neteyam, he still refused to look your way for more than a few seconds while explaining instructions.

Your foot tapped against the ground, tail swatting behind you impatiently as you watched two members of your group twist and weave through the lush flora, avoiding punches and kicks from one another, waiting for your turn. “Don’t worry, Y/N. If you can’t reach one of the vines, I’ll give you a boost.” A low voice sounded from behind you. Tehkani, offered you a smug smirk as you threw him a glare over your shoulder. Great mother this male was insufferable. It wasn’t that Tehkani wasn’t attractive, quite the contrary in fact. His downfall however was that he was one of the cockier men of the bunch to say the least, his ego could be compared to the size of an ikran's wingspan.

You gave him a dramatic scoff in response as you turned back to face the scene ahead of you, and for a moment, you could have sworn, Neteyam’s ear twitched, angling in your direction from where he stood with his arms crossed a few feet in front of you, watching the two na’vi himself. “I don’t think assisting your opponent is part of the assignment.” You say to Tehkani without meeting his gaze, making sure to have the right amount of bite in your voice. Your spine straightens at the sound of his smooth chuckle from behind you and bristle as you feel his breath against the back of your ear to where he had leaned down to whisper, “Oh I don’t think they’d be able to tell… this area is so dense, I’d bet there’s quite a few things that could go unnoticed.”. As if right on queue, you observe as the muscles in Neteyam’s back tense.

Interesting…

Making sure to keep the direction of your gaze subtle, you turn your head slightly to the side, “And by ‘a few things’ you mean…?” You ask Tehkani, keeping your own voice low, pushing back the wave of nausea that manifests in your stomach when the male brushes the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear, “I mean… with all of this thick foliage and how tiny you are… I’m sure no one would notice if we were to sneak off and maybe… I don’t know, have a private sparring match of our-.”, “-Tehkani.” The growl in Neteyam’s voice has you snapping your attention to him in an instant. He hasn’t moved from where you last saw him, but his body was now angled in an open stance, partially to keep an eye on the two other na’vi that were still sparring through the obstacle course. “If you aren’t offering any useful observation or training advice, then I suggest you focus on the match ahead of you.” To his credit Tehkani held Neteyam’s stare, despite the full intensity of the future Olo’eyktan powered the glare that Neteyam was throwing his way.

“Actually Teyam, Y/N and I were talking about having a warm up match before it reached our turn on the course.” Damn was he arrogant, yet the tick in Neteyam’s jaw sent a trickle of satisfaction down your spine, his eyes flicking to your own for only a moment. “That won’t be necessar-.”, “Actually I think it would be a great idea.” Your own words seemed to surprise even you as they left your mouth. Neteyam’s gaze once again shot to you, his eyes assessing as he pondered what in Eywa’s name was going through your head.

It was common knowledge that you really only tolerated the males in your training group, especially when so many of them saw your height as a weakness, so the idea of you actually accepting Tehkani’s offer? Once Neteyam was done trying to read through the aloof expression on your face, he turned his gaze back to Tehkani with a look that was… different. His upper lip curled slightly to partially reveal his fangs, eyes glowing with a predatory… What was it… possessiveness? You could hardly stop the low hiss that left you as you gave Neteyam your own assessing look, now crossing your arms and swatting your tail in outrage. The utter nerve for him to look at anyone like that because of you— not when he refused to even have a casual conversation with you— refused to spend any time with you outside of training in months.

You braced yourself once you realized what you had done when that heated gaze now pinned you to the spot as Neteyam announced to the rest of the group, “Training is over for the day, you are dismissed. Head back to hometree.”. The rest of the na’vi, although a bit confused, heeded their karyu’s words and began making their way back home. You held his glare, knowing that when Neteyam had excused everyone, that it applied to everyone except you. Fine. If he wanted to play that game, you could play too. Fixing your expression to something a tad more inviting you throw a glance to Tehkani as he was still debating whether leaving you alone with the fuming future leader was in your best interest, “I’ll find you when I get back, okay?” You forced your voice into a collected and velvety sounding calm, wrapping up your little display with a gentle brush of your tail against Tehkani’s leg. The male straightened, his eyes now eating every inch and curve of your body up, before giving a slight nod, remembering he was supposed to be playing the roll of the nonchalant playboy and offering a hushed “Sure.” Before turning making his way to catch up to the others, “No. She won’t.” Neteyam spat after him.

Tehkani paused a moment, throwing glances between you and Neteyam like he was watching a game of tennis, before looking to you for… perhaps reassurance? To which you just gave him a curt nod and click of your tongue. That sent him on his way.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as he waited a few minutes for the sounds of his students to disappear into the forest. Arms still crossed over his muscles chest as he spoke, “Care to explain yourself?”. You gawked, scoffing at his arrogance. Surely he couldn’t think you were wrong in this instance. “Last time I checked, you were never entitled to any explanation of my actions.”. Your heart clenched at the words. It hurt to challenge him face on like this, but even still, part of you knew that this had been a long time coming. “I am entitled to one when it’s your actions that are distracting from my lessons. So I’ll ask again. Would you care to explain yourself, Y/N?”.

The further reeling of your upper lip felt all too natural as you bared your fangs at Neteyam, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”, “Am I?” Neteyam challenged with a voice of startling calm and control, “Yes. Cause this has to be some kind of a joke for you to suddenly be acting like this— like I mean something to you when you very clearly have shown me that isn’t the case.”. Neteyam bristled, taking a step toward you to which you matched in retreating a step, “You really think you don’t mean something to me?” You feel like you couldn’t have rolled your eyes any harder, “Oh save me the bullshit, Nete. You’ve hardly even so much as looked at me when we aren’t at training.”

Neteyam let out an elongated sigh, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “So I suppose this is all your tactic to get my attention then? Well congratulations Y/N. You’ve got it. Happy?”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It’s like he was treating you as if you were nothing more than a spoiled child. Rage coursed through your veins like venom as you chanced a step toward him, tail raised up high in defiance, “No Neteyam! I haven’t been happy since you shut me out of your life and made me nothing more than an obligation rather than your friend!” There it was. Everything you had kept bottled up, and here you were half ready to throttle him over it.

Neteyam’s eyes widened, his arms dropped to his sides. He had half a mind to look… startled, as if you had physically struck him. “You truly think I don’t care about you?” His voice was now gentle, almost cautious, his face painted in blatant anguish. “I know you don’t.” The words came out with a regrettable trembling. “Friends don’t just push each other away without giving any sort of reason.”. Neteyam’s ears flattened, his head dropping as he looked at the ground briefly, trying to fight for the right words, but he knew what he’d done. Known all the times you’d approached him that he’d always given excuses that he was busy or straight up walked away. “I know… It’s just. These past few months, with my preparations and shadowing my father I-.”, “I don’t want to hear it, Teyam.”.

Neteyam flinched at the outburst, cocking his head slightly, “Y/N, you don’t understand how stressful these last couple of months have been. I have been exhausted-.”, “Then you could have told me- asked me for support! But instead you chose to shut me out.” You argued, arms splayed out as if putting yourself open for attack, putting yourself at his mercy and presenting your vulnerability.

“I was trying to figure it out for myself.”, “You abandoned me!”. Pain and regret rippled over Neteyam’s features, his shoulders sagging if only briefly, blinking rapidly as he tried to find the words, tried so desperately to say something that would mend the wound that had been gouged in your relationship. He took a step forward, “I didn’t- Y/N you mean everything to me! You think I wanted you to shoulder my burden for me?”.

“Fuck you!” The words explode from your throat before you can give them a second thought. Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, his chin tilting slightly upward in silent disbelief with a huff of a breath, his jaw tightening as his eyes survey you before him, “Really?”. The lethal tone in which he says the word is like a jab to the gut leaving anxiety to now bubble in your stomach in its wake. Then he inclines his head, eyes narrowing with a heaviness that makes your knees weak, “I suggest you choose your next words very, very carefully, Y/N.”. You suck in a shaky breath as he dares another step toward you, then another, until your back meets the rough bark of the tree behind you. Your ears flatten, nose crinkling slightly in annoyance at your own obliviousness that ended in you being cornered, yet you refuse to give him the satisfaction of thinking he has even an inkling of power over you, so you lift your chin in defiance, forcing yourself to meet the gaze of the future Olo’eyktan standing before you, so close that the height difference between you now blatantly obvious, the top of your head just barely reaching his collarbone, which only proves to make you clench your teeth at the constant “one up” he’s always had on you.

“Fuck. You.” You hissed the words with strict emphasis, “Fuck you and your self righteous bullshit that you like to parade around the clan. I’m sure it’s real hard for you to hold all of this power over everyone.”

“Stop it…”

“This sense of privilege you carry just for being the son of Toruk Makto.”

“Y/N…” Neteyam spoke your name with such an edge you never recognized in his voice before, that you would’ve shuddered otherwise, but you didn’t care.

“The mighty warrior, who excels in everything. Future Olo’eyktan and major pain in my ass.”

“Enough!” The growl behind the words finally snapped you back to the present, as if you weren’t in your own body to begin with. You assessed how close the proximity between the two of you had become. The two of you were practically sharing the same breath, Neteyam’s broad chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy, rugged breaths. Yet despite his heavy breathing, nothing in Neteyam’s face showed any signs of the rage that was sure to be fuming under his skin. No, instead his face only bore a mask of pure icy calm. “Get away from me.” Your words were hardly more than a whisper as you held his gaze, fighting not to crumble under it, yet his voice reflected the calm on his face, “No.”.

“Get. Away.” You spat through ground teeth. Again you are met with resistance, “I will not.”. So now it was your turn to resist. Baring your fangs in a snarl you raised your hands, sending a brisk yet firm shove to his chest. Neteyam staggered only slightly before regaining his composure, his amber eyes never leaving yours for even a second, “Again.” Was he using this as a training moment? Your blood rose to a boil in your veins as you raised your hands again, stepping forward to try and utilize the strength in your body to push past him, yet the moment your hand met his chest, Neteyam’s had captured your wrists, now causing you to stagger back as he pinned them above your head.

Your pulse quickened as you watched him with wide eyes, noses now brushing against one another. He was close. Too close. Close in the sense that it had your blood boiling for more reasons than one. You felt as if the heat in your blood might very well melt you as Neteyam lowered his head to slowly run the tip of his nose down the column of your neck, “Neteyam…”, “You always were such a violent little thing.”. You choked back the whine that threatened to escape your throat as Neteyam’s lips met the space just above your collarbone, “I’m not… I’m not little.” The words came out a bit more breathy than you had anticipated, mentally cursing yourself when you felt Neteyam smirk against your skin. “Aren’t you?” He countered, letting his teeth graze your skin where his lips had been.

Your breath hitched at that, head falling back in silent defeat, “Fuck off Sully.” You spat, one last attempt to get some sort of control on the situation, yet your resolve was so close to slipping. Neteyam pulled back, a quiet fire roaring in those golden eyes of his as he gripped your jaw in his hand, forcing your gaze to meet his, “You’ve always had such a foul mouth.” He purred, now eyeing said mouth in contemplation, but you would give him no room for contemplation. You would get the upper hand one way or another. With that, you crashed your mouth into his.

The kiss was rough and sloppy as a mix of lips, tongue and teeth tangled and fought for dominance. Neither of you would back down so easily. Your body cried out as Neteyam pressed his weight into you, hands gripping your hips as his fingers dug into the smooth skin there. You took the opportunity to fist your own hands into his braids, tugging at the roots of his head, only to have a moan ripped from you as Neteyam captured your tongue in his mouth, giving it a firm suck. Your body trembled against his in anticipation, your hips subconsciously grinding against the stiffness beneath Neteyam’s loincloth that now bumped against your stomach.

Wrenching your mouth from his, your half lidded eyes slid over Neteyam’s face, giving a slow and precise rock of your body against his bulge, “Already hard after a single kiss? I’m shocked Nete, I thought you were going to make me fight for it.” You breathed against his lips as he dove back in for more, briefly parting only to respond, “Eywa, you’re such a…” he broke into a growl, pressing his lips to yours again before continuing, “I wouldn’t be acting so high and mighty if I were you.”. You craned your neck as Neteyam descended from your lips to leave a trail of kisses down your jugular, “Oh? And why not?” You breathed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, while the other hand stayed firmly lodged in his hair. “Because…” Neteyam let out a breathy groan before dragging his tongue from the base of your neck, all the way to your jaw, then to your ear, “I can smell how badly you want me.” A lick up the shell of your ear, “How wet you are for me.” And then his lips closed around your earlobe, making your body squirm against his, whimpering out pathetically as Neteyam guided your hips to move against him rhythmically.

“Mmn great mother…” you whined following his movements to relieve some form of tension that was building between your legs. “Tell me what you want, yawne…” ‘yawne’, your heart hammered at that, yet you could only respond with another whimper. “Use your words.” You groaned in frustration pushing off of him enough to spread your legs somewhat, letting him stand between them, “Touch me… please Nete..”, “Oh, the brat has manners… I thought I was going to have to make you beg.”. Your skin felt hot against his calloused fingers as he let one hand drift from your hip to the band of your loincloth, skimming it teasingly, “Fuck you.” You groaned, bucking your hips in attempts to entice him further, get him right where you wanted him. “Such a dirty little mouth…” Neteyam growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, “Don’t worry, yawne. I intend to.” And with that, his hand plunged past the band of your loincloth, his fingers grazing along your pussy lips that were indeed drenched in your arousal.

Neteyam swore as he gathered your wetness on his fingers, spreading and massaging it over your clit. Your body trembled, toes curling as you bit into his shoulder, trying your hardest not to let yourself be completely vulnerable. The game was still on and if he wanted you to break for him, he’d have to earn it. Almost as reading your thoughts, Neteyam slipped a finger passed your entrance groaning into your ear at the tightness of it, “You’re so wet, yawne… all for me?” Neteyam mused. Smug ass. “How do you know part of that wasn’t for Tehkani? -Ngahh!” As if answer, Neteyam forced a second finger into you, thrusting deep enough to make his point, ripping a cry of pleasure form your throat, “Don’t you dare say his name while I’m fucking you with my fingers.” Neteyam hissed, nipping at your jawline, “By the time we are finished, I’ll make sure my name is the only one you remember”.

Your back arched, perching yourself on your tip toes as Neteyam’s fingers found the spot that made you into a moaning mess as they began flicking and curling against it. Your hips sputtered against his hand, nails biting into the skin of his back. Your eyes filled with pleasured tears as the knot in your core threatened to snap, pulling tighter and tighter, the song of your pitching voice having Neteyam brace his other hand on the tree beside you, “Go ahead, yawne… say it.”. “Mmn!” You whined helplessly, burning your face in the spot between his neck and shoulder. “Say my name, ma’ yawntu..” Neteyam’s rasped voice purred against your hairline, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Haah… T-Teyam!!” With another flick of his fingers a bolt of lightning shot through your body, having you shuddering against him, as the tears that had brimmed in your eyes now flowed hot down your cheeks.

Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Neteyam peppered tender kisses along your face before gently removing his hand from your loincloth to fully take in his drenched hand. His soft chuckle brought you out of your dazed euphoria as you looked between his hand and your sodded loincloth, “I don’t think you’ll be able to wear that back to the clan.” Neteyam mused with a cheeky smirk, catching your half hearted glare just as he brought his hand to his lips and began licking it clean. The sight had the ache between your thighs manifesting all over again, biting your lip as you beheld the show before you, all while untying the straps of your loincloth and allowing it to drop to the forest floor between you.

Neteyam’s eyes darkened, half lidded with lust, kicking away the garment as he mirrored your action, making quick work of his own loincloth before tossing it alongside yours. You tried not to look. Tried and failed as the utter girth of him had your thighs clenching together. “I meant it, when I said you were everything to me.” Neteyam hummed, lifting your chin with a finger, forcing you to meet his gaze as his other hand gave his cock a few firm pumps, “Now let me show you exactly how much you mean to me.”. You were nearly beyond words as you spared another glance between his legs, licking your lips as you looked deep into his eyes, “Good… fuck me like you mean it, Nete…”.

Neteyam’s eyes flared at your words, a deep rumbling brewing in his chest as he leaned down, elbows hooking under your knees and hoisting you up and spreading you wide for him, pinning your body against himself and the tree. Your arms were around his neck in an instant, eyes glued to his own before your mouths finally reclaimed each other. This time the pace was sweeter, gentler, knee buckling, if it weren’t for the fact that your knees were now pushed up to your breasts. Then, oh so gently, Neteyam lowered you until his tip prodded at your entrance, his teasing swipes not lasting long once you whined in protest, desperately trying to move your hips to drop onto him. Once he had made the descent, lowering you onto his cock, your whole body melted into his, letting the feeling of him stretching you out consume every conscious thought in your mind.

“Mmph…Great mother… you’re so tight, yawne- fuuuck.” Neteyam cursed into the crook of your neck, slowly stirring his cock inside you before lowering you down more and more, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully nestled inside of you. A prominent pressure prodded at your lower abdomen, your face a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the feeling, “S.. so deep…” you mewled, clinging to him like a babe, your body trembling oh so slightly.

Never had you felt so incredibly full, so completely. Your mind whirled as you willingly gave into him at last, nuzzling your cheek against his own. The action had your scent forcing its way into Neteyam’s nostrils, consuming his thoughts as he groaned in response, returning the favor with a brush of his own cheek and a gentle stirring of his hips. “Oh Eywa…” you whimpered, matching his rhythm to ride along with the slow movements of his hips. “Ahh that’s it yawne… shit… I won’t be able to hold back if you keep moving like that.”. An invitation and yet another challenge, whether he realized he had given it or not. Your hips moved with further motivation, speeding your pace enough that had Neteyam’s eyes rolling back, groaning against your neck.

When Neteyam opened his eyes again, you gasped to find his pupils were nearly fully dilated, repositioning you by placing both of your calves in his shoulders, his hands now grasping your hips in what could be considered bruising if it didn’t feel so good, so right. Then before you could even begin to beg him to move, Neteyam lifted your hips, sliding you off of his cock until only his tip remained, then slammed you back down with a quickness that had you gasping for air. Again and again, over and over, Neteyam repeated this, fucking into you like his life depended on it, your body bouncing and bucking along with his every thrust. The pressure in your stomach, you realized, was definitely the feeling of his tip brushing the inside of your stomach, owning and claiming every inch of you, inside and out.

Neteyam’s name became a prayer on your lips, your moans and cries as well as the sound of squelching and slapping skin echoed off the towering trees around you. “Mmmn… you are mine, yawne…” Neteyam groaned against your lips, eating up your moans with primal delight.

“All…”

Thrust

“Fucking…”

Thrust

“Mine…”

Thrust

With that final thrust you were sent into your second climax, clenching around his length as you rode out your high. Neteyam swore gripping your hips harder, biting into your shoulder as his cock twitched inside of you before spilling into you, fucking each and every drop straight into your womb.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, still catching your breaths, bodies sticky with sweat as you came down from your highs. Neteyam hummed in satisfaction, his tongue slipping out to lick at the bite mark that was now throbbing on your shoulder. “Sorry…” Neteyam breathed, gently nuzzling the spot with his nose as if it would take the ache away, yet you were more focused on the strain in your legs from holding this position. Even still you couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips, “It’s ok, we’re even now.”. Neteyam cocked his head as he pulled away to look at you, the space between his brows pinched in confusion, “I said some… terrible things to you today, I think I deserved getting bit into.”. Neteyam then returned the laugh with a chuckle of his own, shaking his head, “No… you spoke your mind today. You’re right. I was a terrible friend and I neglected you.”.

Another silence fell as Neteyam brushed his cheek along the spot in your shoulder, then your neck, then your own cheek, blissfully basking in each other's scents, “You could’ve come to me you know… talked to me about it.”, “I know…” Neteyam whispered, “I know that now… and I promise I won’t shut you out again..”. Neteyam sighed pressing a kiss to your temple, holding his lips there for a short while before finally saying, “I never… want you to feel like I abandoned you. Never again.”. You held back tears as you rested your forehead against his, “We’ll do better. Both of us. Hopefully as a bit more than friends now.” You half joked, yet the seriousness you were met with when Neteyam pulled back to look into your eyes startled you, “I meant it when I said you are mine, Y/N. Mine and only mine… that’s why…” Neteyam held you close, continuing to brush his skin against yours over and over again in a manner that had you giggling softly, “When we walk back to hometree I want my scent to be on every inch of your body.”.

@luvv4j4ybe11, @sullybothersmate ,@yourfavwh0r3 @Awiltedpeony @xylianasblog @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @hotdsworld @itchaboi-itchyboy

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #avatar twow #avatarsmut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #tw aged up #avatar smut

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wilwheaton · 10 months

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When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

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heartsandhischier · 23 days

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"You slept with who?"

nico hischier x reader

summary - 1.5k words. trying to escape an awkward encounter after a one night stand, emphasise on trying

author's note - in my head nico is such a sweetheart no matter the situation, and NO ONE can tell me otherwise. i will protect this man with my life!

warnings - slight reference to the devils tango (ig), swearing

As the morning sun tiptoed through the parted curtains, it painted the room in a soft glow, awaking you from a restless slumber. A throbbing headache served as your unwelcome alarm, joining forces with the sunlight to assault your senses. You pulled the covers over your head, seeking refuge from the discomfort, suddenly hit by an unfamiliar scent – cologne. With a jolt, you sat up, struggling to pry your heavy eyelids apart as you looked around the room. This wasn’t your bedroom.

Where the fuck am I?

Alone in the unfamiliar bed, you took a moment, attempting to piece together the puzzle of your surroundings. The room was clean, neat, the owner clearly a tidy person. Despite the overall cleanliness, scattered trinkets and personal belongings were scattered along the space, giving it a sense of lived-in comfort – a curated chaos.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the floor, a scattered array of clothing formed a path from the bedroom door to the bed. With a hesitant rise from the mattress, a sudden realization washed over you – you were completely naked.

Remnants of the previous streamed through your mind. Recollections of hitting the club with your girlfriends flooded back, the taste of margaritas still lingering on your lips. The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club replayed in your mind, each memory accompanied by the relentless pounding in your head.

As your feet met the floor, your head pulsed with every beat, you had to get out of here. This wasn’t your typical scene – you weren’t accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar beds after nights of festivities. And when these rare occurrences did happen, you never stayed long, avoiding any potential awkward encounters with one-night stands. Hastily you collected your belongings, attempting to look just a bit more presentable as you assessed your disheveled reflection in the full-length mirror. Panic set in as you realized your heels were missing – likely abandoned somewhere in the entrance hallway.

You peeked your head past the bedroom door, checking if the coast was clear. No one in sight. You kept your head low as you tiptoed along the corridor. Your heart raced with each step, the uncertainty of encountering the apartment’s owner weighing down on your consciousness. Lost in your haste, a collision abruptly halted your escape.

Fuck

As water splattered and your belongings scattered across the floor, the jarring sound of shattering glass pierced your ears. Before your bare feet could melt into the broken shards, a pair of strong arms caught you, preventing a painful misstep. A heavy silence settled over the room as you couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the stranger. “Are you okay?” His voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t quite pinpoint, breaking through the tension. Unable to muster a response, you offered a timid apology, keeping your eyes trained on the floor as you began to gather your scattered belongings. Finally standing upright, you mustered the strength to meet the stranger’s gaze. Warm brown eyes met yours, framed by a freshly-trimmed beard and tousled brown locks – a picture of effortless charm, even in the disarray of early morning wakefulness.

You were lost in his eyes for a moment. He must have noticed as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry for ruining your escape. I was just trying to get you a glass of water.” he explained with a soft smile, gesturing toward the now-spilled contents polled on the floor amidst the shattered glass.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him bend down to collect the scattered glass. It seemed like a series of unfortunate events had led you to this moment – waking up in a stranger’s apartment, breaking a glass meant for you during your escape, and now, standing awkwardly as he cleaned up your mess. What made it even worse was that you didn’t even know his name.

An uneasy silence hung in the air as he continued to tidy up. "So... last night was fun?" his smile genuine despite the situation. You could only manage a sheepish smile and a polite nod in response, feeling utterly mortified. He chuckled at your response, tossing the broken glass into the trash.

Once he finished cleaning up, he approached you again with a fresh glass of water in hand. Dressed in a black t-shirt neatly tucked into a pair of gym shorts, you couldn’t help but notice the definition of his muscles peeking through the fabric. You politely accepted the glass of water with trembling hands. Taking a hesitant sip, the cool water provided some relief to your throbbing headache.

His laughter broke through the tension as he observed your state. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” he teased, causing your cheeks to flush even deeper. You stammered out an awkward apology, feeling like you couldn’t sink any lower in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he reassured you, his voice gentle and understanding. “Since it seems we’re both in need of a little memory jog, how about we start fresh? Hi I’m Nico,” he introduced himself with a mock bow.

You felt a smile tug at your lips, appreciating Nico’s effort to lighten the mood – definitely not the reaction you’d expected after the awkwardness of being caught trying to escape his apartment. “Nice to meet you Nico, I am Y/N,” you gave him a small courtesy, mirroring his playfulness. His laughter was infectious, melting away the tension that had gripped you moments before. It was amazing how quickly his easygoing demeanor put you at ease.

“I would’ve offered you breakfast, but I have to head out to practice,” Nico explained with a smile, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Early morning practice after a night out, wow, you’re a fighter,” you teased, genuinely impressed by his dedication given your own current state.

"Well, gotta do what you gotta do when you're captain," he replied with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But I can offer you a ride home on the way.”

“YOU SLEPT WITH NICO HISCHIER?!” Sarah’s voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, drawing the attention of nearby patrons in the cafe. You hastily gestured for her to lower her voice, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Sarah’s hand shot to her mouth covering it, quickly scanning her surroundings she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You slept with Nico Hischier!?” her eyes were wide with excitement, barely able to contain herself.

“I didn’t know!” you chuckled, shrugging in amusement. “Yeah, that’s because you’re boring and don’t watch sports!” Sarah teased. “He’s literally the captain of the New Jersey Devils!” Sarah exclaimed, her arms waving around excitedly.

“How was it? Was it good?” Sarah fired off questions, her curiosity barely giving you enough time to answer. You laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire interrogation. “You tell me,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. “I don’t remember, I mean, I didn’t even remember his name!”

Sarah’s eyes widened in realization. “You have to meet him again,” she urged, the sudden weight of missed opportunity sinking in. You groaned – you didn’t get his number. With a defeated sigh, you explained the predicament to Sarah.

“We’ll just have to go back to the club. tonight. “

The club pulsed with energy, red lights casting an enticing glow over the throngs of dancing bodies. Sarah and the girls were lost in the music, their laughter mingling with the bass thumping through the air. Despite their best efforts to drag you to the dancefloor, your attention remained divided, your gaze drifting to the entrance in hopes of spotting those familiar brown eyes.

It was a long shot, you knew, but it was worth trying. Why hadn’t you thought of exchanging numbers? You sighed, taking a sip of your amaretto sour. Amidst the chaos of the club, your purse buzzed incessantly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Fishing out your phone, you were met with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Normally, you wouldn't answer such calls, but tonight, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” you shouted into the phone, hoping to be heard above the chaos of the club.

“I can see you're looking for me,” the voice on the other end replied, laced with the same thick accent. Your head snapped up, scanning the club for the source of the voice. And there he was, standing by a table surrounded by a group of guys you could only make out to be his teammates. His warm brown eyes locked onto yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gave you a small wave. A surge of relief and excitement washed over you as you realized you hadn’t lost your chance after all. You couldn’t help but smile, you probably exchanged numbers during your drunken encounter, lucky for you.

With a grin plastered on your face, you made your way through the pulsating crowd. The warmth of his presence drawing you closer, as the pulsating rhythm of the club faded into the background.

“Hey stranger,” you playfully smiled. “Ready for round two?”

#nico hischier #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #njd #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine

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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months

Text

pretty

hobie x reader

summary: you wake up with a nasty hangover. you know the rest.

wc: ~500

A/N: if I'm using UK slang wrong pls beat my ass about it I tried 💀

Edit: made minor edits bc I did, in fact, use UK slang wrong 👍🏾

The light from the morning sun bounces off of the peeling white paint on the surrounding walls of the tiny apartment, forcing you to open your eyes. You squint as they adjust; It feels like someone is currently inside your head and repeatedly taking a sledgehammer to your skull.

The familiar cracked corners of the ceiling tell you that you're at Hobie's place. You grunt as you lift yourself into a sitting position, which doesn't help the headache.

What does, though, is the smell of cinnamon and cornmeal wafting beneath your nose from the kitchen. The sudden rumbling in your stomach makes you curious enough to swing your legs off of the couch and rise to your feet.

Bad idea.

Hobie enters the room just as you stumble backwards onto the couch, and barely holds back a loud cackle so that he doesn't drop the two bowls of porridge he'd just made.

You don't see it, of course, because the ceiling is currently spinning.

"Not so fun dealing with those fourteen shots the morning after, eh?"

Hobie's diamond-shaped face came into view, his wicks sticking out from every direction like the halos in those medieval paintings he liked to make fun of. He'd replaced his vest and usual get-up with a white tank top.

You groan, "How long was I out?"

" 'Bout twelve hours,"

Hobie set the two bowls down on the coffee table in front of you. "Had to call a cab just to get you here all in one piece."

You finally look down once you feel the couch sink next to you. He smells of hard soap and nutmeg.

"You cook?"

He shrugs, picking up his bowl and shoveling the contents into his mouth. He nods, deeming his work satisfactory.

"From time to time," he glances at you from the corner of his eye. "You don't get over a hangover on an empty stomach, yeah?"

He chuckles when you immediately grab your bowl without a word, and soon begin to absolutely destroy it.

Just as Hobie said, the hammering has begun to subside by the time you scrape the last bit of golden liquid from the bowl. He still has yet to finish his own meal, so you watch him.

You silently admire the way his lashes almost brush his cheek when his eyes are downcast. The sunrise reflected off of mahogany-smooth skin, and you envy how he did almost nothing to it to get it that way.

"You're pretty," you think out loud, and Hobie nearly chokes on his porridge before his head snaps to face you.

"S-sorry, who?"

Your brows shoot up on surprise momentarily, unaware that he'd actually heard you. There was no one else you could have possibly been referring to, giving you no choice but to double down.

You laugh nervously, “Well, you are.”

His full lips quirked up at the corners, as if he was trying to figure out if this was a bit or not. But you kept staring at him, no joke in your expression.

“Yeah, I think you’re still hammered, man.”

#hobie brown x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #moralesanhour #first hobie fic woohoo

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moonydustx · 30 days

Text

Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Summary: In search of information, Law meets an archaeologist who brings all his insecurities and jealousies to the surface. Warnings: porn with practically no plot, explicit content, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, almost declarations of love. Law and F!Reader already have a "relationship" (depending on your point of view, it could even be part of A not so funny story). Despite bringing some canonical details, it diverges a little from the story. A/N: a few days ago an edit with this song appeared on my fy and it just stuck in my head and this idea came to me. Minors do not interact | +18 only

Requests open | one piece masterlist

Law seemed increasingly interested in the search for the Poneglyphs. It was the third island you visited that he knew where to find certain information. This time, only you and him disembarked from Polar Tang, the justification was that it would be something quick, just finding an informant.

You just didn't expect such information to be with an archaeologist. A beautiful, blonde and hot archaeologist. Law had already told you about her and how fame preceded her, how she liked to use men to her advantage and pleasure. That immediately set off an alert in your mind.

"What is she doing here?" was the first thing the woman said when she saw you entering the bar, which was the meeting point. "From what I remember, I said I would exchange the information in exchange for you coming alone, Mr. Surgeon of Death."

"You'd trade the information for money, Arine." he corrected her. "She's the strategist of my crew, I need her in these types of meetings."

The woman turned her nose in your direction and took Law by one of her arms, leading him into the bar. Just by the atmosphere of the place you knew that the woman had a certain influence there. Glances – both drawn and protective – danced around Arine. In a way, it made you feel out of place, it was as if you had the wrong clothes, the wrong hair, everything wrong, just a mere figure following the two of them.

At one of the tables further back, the woman sat down, almost merging her body with Law's, forcing you to sit on the opposite side. You even tried to avoid it, but her meek tone of voice and the hands that made a point of touching Law in every gap made a gray cloud of jealousy appear in you. As much as you ended your nights in the captain's room and were woken up by his kisses, you knew that nothing had been established. He was free to even be with the disgusting blonde in front of you.

Law, on the other hand, noticed the ignorance of the woman in your direction. The unwanted touches on him, Arine's provocative voice, but the information she brought matched what he was looking for, besides the fact that if he disagreed with the woman and ended up getting into an argument he would be putting both of you at risk.

"So..." the blonde's voice sounded more irritating than usual. "I don't believe you came just looking for information. The island is huge, I believe there is a favorite thing for you to do." even from across the table, you could see her throw her legs over Law's. "Or someone's favorite."

"My favorite thing here is you and the information you can give." he spoke harshly, immediately noticing the unfortunate choice of words.

That was the limit for you. Okay, there was no way she could know the history between the two of you, but you weren't obligated to watch Law make the slightest effort to get out of that situation. Your hands slammed harder than you expected against the table as soon as you stood up, attracting both of their attention.

"I'm going to get a drink." your eyes remained fixed on Law's and soon you turned your back to both of them.

Law could read the jealousy in your eyes as soon as you walked away, he knew he would need to invest his time in correcting it. He watched Arine get up and call you. He could have sworn you would kill the woman right then and there.

"You there." Arine poked your shoulder. "Get a drink..." she started, speaking louder so everyone would think everything was okay. "And get out of here. I believe that my Law is not very comfortable in the presence of his employees. You are hindering my efforts to taste him."

"What?" your voice came from your lips in disbelief. It wasn't possible that you were listening to that, as much as you wanted to finish her off, your priority was to help Law with the Poneglyphs. "Yes ma'am."

You turned your back on her and went to the bar, ordering a dose of whatever strong shit they could offer you. You wanted to disappear, just erase your mere and insignificant existence at that moment. A hand touched your waist and you looked hopeless. Just another asshole in that place.

Law watched Arine return, with a malicious smile on her lips and throw her body on top of him again. His body tensed with hatred at each touch from the woman. You wouldn't touch him like that in public, why would she have any right?

"Where do we stop?" she asked and before Law could respond, he watched a man approach you and touch your waist.

"I need to go." Law started to get up, but was stopped by the woman.

"Don't worry about your pet, my man will take good care of her. Even simple little things like her deserve a good night." Arine said close to his ear. "I have a hotel a few meters away, we can have our good night there."

Law only lasted a few seconds of the woman speaking, while the scene unfolded in front of him. The man remained glued to you, his hand remained on your waist but the disgust was clear in your eyes. Law was tired of it. He turned towards Arine and, pretending to fall for her charms, he ran his hand down the woman's leg.

"Is he your trusted man?"

"The best I have." she replied, proud of finally making Law give in. "Your little pet will like it." His hands went down to Arine's calves and as soon as he reached the small dagger he had seen hidden in her boot, he pulled it out and stuck it on the table. Soon after, Law allowed his powers to create a blue beam on his hand and the sharp object.

"Get him away from her now." Law snapped. Anyone watching from afar would never have imagined that he was about to kill a man. "I'd hate to have this show up instead of his necklace."

The woman whistled and snapped her finger twice and the man released you immediately, to Law's relief. Maybe you weren't the only person who let yourself be consumed by jealousy.

"You value your pet too much."

Law took the knife from the table and brought it to the girl's throat, noticing that the bar immediately stopped to watch them.

"Keep her out of your damn mouth." Law threw the dagger on the table and took out a small bag of berris from his pocket. "Our treaty ends here."

"It is a shame." the woman handed him a small card. By damn irony, it was the same hotel you two were at. "Come see me if you change your mind."

Law left the woman talking to herself and looked around the bar. You were gone. He considered returning the dagger to the woman's throat and asking if she had anything to do with it, but something told him no. The only answer he had was that you had gone to your base point, the hotel.

After flirting, asking you to go somewhere else and even threatening you because the man had a "job to do", just like that the man let you go. Trying not to understand the situation and moving away from that madhouse that was the bar, Arine and all the idiots involved, you returned to the hotel.

The first thing you did was take off your shoes. Why get ready for a damn meeting? Just Arine's presence made it clear that you were no match. You couldn't stop thinking about where Law could be, what the two of them could be doing. "My only favorite thing here is you" Law's words were still echoing in your mind when you heard a few knocks on the door.

Without bothering to think, you opened it, finding Law apparently without much patience.

"Are you ok?" he asked, entering the room.

The hurt consumed you and seemed to suffocate the angry words that surfaced and died in your lack of courage. But despite everything, he was still there and not with her.

"May I ask why you're pouting?" Law closed the door behind him, watching you cross the room and sit on the bed.

The sight of you with your arms crossed and a pout - just like a tantruming child - was cute but it was clear that something was bothering you and Law knew exactly what it was. He just wanted to press your buttons and see how far your hatred for Arine would go or if something had actually happened and he would need to start a hunt.

"I'm not pouting." As much as you wanted to go on a silence strike, you knew it would be immature - and maybe even wrong.

"Now you're doing even more." a barely audible laugh left his lips. The man placed Kikoku against the door and started to watch you. "I think I have a hunch what this is about."

"Of course, dear Arine must have told you." the venom in your voice gave away everything Law needed to know.

"Why did you disappear? Did that idiot do something?"

"I hated that place." you just responded, finding Law looking at you in a worried way.

"Not what I asked."

"Long story short, he wanted to fuck me, but I'm not that good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Captain, I don't want to talk about it." You stood up, heading towards the door but a hand stopped you from continuing. "Besides, you should be wasting time with Arine."

"Are you really going to fall for her conversation?"

"I heard you." you just said. "Your favorite girl, in fact, she's the one who asked me to leave. You wouldn't feel comfortable with her "tasting" you in front of your employees." you imitated her tone of voice.

The cynicism in your voice as well as the bright line in the waterline of your eyes created an alert in the doctor's mind. Perhaps Arine's manipulation had gone too far, Law was beginning to consider it a bad idea to have given in - or at least pretended - that the woman's charms didn't even come close to what you did to him. His hand let go of yours, only to let you reach the door. Before your hand touched the doorknob, it was covered by Law's, which locked the door. He needed to make it up to you and he didn't want to be interrupted by it.

"Please don't do that. I hated her as much as you did." he turned you around, coming face to face with you. "There's no need to be jealous. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know." you let your face fall to the side his hand touched you, appreciating the small gesture. Law could manipulate you however he wanted, you would gladly accept it. "I just wanted to be pretty like her. You know, be your favorite."

Law could have replied that you were the most beautiful woman there - and for him, in all the seas, but he preferred other methods to convince you. Not allowing much time for you to continue mumbling, his body pressed against yours, his hand cupped your face and his lips collided with yours. His tongue passed under your lips, causing you to open them and give Law space to take you. It was like a fight for air and to ward off all those bad feelings that night had brought you. Impetuously Law invaded your mouth, purred against your lips, finally after that horrible night he could take you.

Your hands reached his shirt and unbuttoned it button by button, throwing it to some deserted corner of the small room. Wetness accumulated in your intimacy as you allowed your hands to pass over Law's abdomen, going down until you found a hard volume. Your fingers began to press against him, drawing small patterns on the tip of his dick.

"Do you want to taste it? You know, only you can." he whispered, hearing a please escape your lips. "Get on your knees."

You promptly followed his orders. Feeling your hands itch, you placed them on his thighs and allowed your lips to run along the coarse fabric of his jeans. In your field of vision you can see two tattooed hands unbuttoning the piece without any rush. Law watched your lips change the fabric of your jeans for the black underwear that covered them.

"Are you that eager?" again, the same low tone, the same teasing behind his voice.

His cock appeared in your field of vision and in a slow counterpoint to your anxiety, your tongue just slowly slid along its entire length, from base to tip. One of your hands reached the base, giving you space to cup his balls in your lips. Law's hand that was holding him against the door went down to his cock, taking it from your lips.

"Don't be mean." He pointed the tip at you, sliding it over your lips. "Do you remember how to ask it to stop?" He took one of your hands and placed it on his leg again. Two beats: a pause for breath, three beats: stop immediately.

You just nodded, opening your mouth and batting your eyelashes in Law's direction. The innocent look, the anxiety that was clear in you, the invasion was sudden, Law had already put up with too much of your provocation. His hand joined your hair, pushing you against the wall as he thrust deep into your throat, starting slowly and quickly increasing the speed.

"Is that what you want?" the tattooed fingers got even more tangled in your hair "It's only yours, take it all in"

The air seemed increasingly rarefied and your eyes stung with some involuntary tears at the same time you could feel your panties getting even wetter and your voice producing involuntary moans, your body reacted to the grunts coming from the man above you. Your eyes met Law's and you found one of the most beautiful scenes you had ever seen. A little sweat accumulated on his face, his chest rose and fell euphorically and his eyes focused on you. As if it were still possible, Law, noticing your gaze lost in theirs, stuck his dick even deeper into your throat.

"Fucking beautiful." he murmured, taking his dick out of you and watching you catch your lost breath. With his hands still stuck in your hair, he pulled you to your feet again. "The most beautiful woman, all mine."

One of the few remaining tears ran down your face and you felt it burn even more when Law slid his tongue over your cheek, licking it and erasing it from existence. All mine his voice whispered again. Leaving his clothes - and consequently you - behind, Law walked to the bed, sitting down and looking at you from afar. Even with the distance you could still see Law lost after you sucked him. His eyes danced over your body.

"Come here, take off your clothes for me, please." damn it. Hearing Law ask you for something silly, eyes still shining from watching you suck him was a little too much for you. You walked over to him, stopping between the man's legs. The first thing you took off was your blouse, followed shortly by the skirt and panties you were wearing.

"And you still ask if you're my favorite." Law murmured something that you suspected was just his thought, still trapped in a trance.

"Am I?" you used the same teasing tone he usually used, as he had just a few minutes ago. Your legs passed through Law's body, wrapping around his waist. Using equal strength for both of you, Law pulled you and lay down on the bed. “Law…” your warning tone appeared as you saw him pull you away from his dick, towards his face.

"My favorite, my only, the most beautiful..." he listed unpretentiously "What do you need to understand?" He started kissing your thighs, which were already around his cheeks. "Let me prove it to you."

Law pulled your hips down, your pussy falling over his lips. You had to suppress a scream when you felt his tongue travel all over your vulva, stopping at your clit. His hands settled on your thighs as you tried to roll against him, looking for more friction. The suppressed screams soon began to escape your lips in low moans every time you felt him slide his tongue inside you.

Law was usually methodical, he took as long as he needed to make you cum but now it was different. You could feel your even wetter pussy while Law grunting beneath you as squeezed you even tighter and sucked your clit without worrying about the mess made on his face. The precipice seemed just seconds away when he stopped, taking you off of him and placing you back on his hips. His lips were dripping with your honey as was his chin and your legs were still shaking from the orgasm that was behind you. Law's hand went up to his hair and took off the last piece of clothing on his body: the hat, placing it on your head.

"You know you are mine, just mine, just as I am yours." his hands slid over your breasts, going down and pulling your hips, fitting your entrance to his cock. "Ride me, take what's yours."

"Fuck Law." you moaned softly, feeling every inch of him fill you.

You could feel wet, but it was never enough when Law entered you. When you reach the base of his dick, you can feel him grunting along with you, his hands tightening the skin of your ass even more as his hips press into you.

You started slowly, your hands resting on Law's chest while your hips rose and fell millimeters, not wanting to move away from the feeling of being filled by him, of having every inch of your pussy filled. As the speed increased, your moans began to echo throughout the room and one of your hands involuntarily went up to your mouth, covering it.

"No, babe." Law pulled your hand and, with the other, held your two arms behind your back. "We're not in Polar Tang, I want to be able to hear you scream, at least today."

His feet planted themselves on the bed and Law began to move his hips against yours. He thrust hard, the noise of bodies coming together was as loud as your moans and you could also hear the words coming out louder and louder from his lips.

"Your little pussy is squeezing me so much, so good." He used one of his hands to find your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers and hearing you scream.

"Harder, please love." the word that escaped your lips worked as fuel for Law.

The hand holding your hands let go and your body fell against his chest. One of Law's tattooed hands got tangled in your hair while the other circled your back and attached itself to your waist. Sweet whispered nothings and screams of pure pleasure echoed throughout the room, leaving your lips and falling into Law's ears like pure delight.

"Fuck, cum for me babe" Law's lips found the sensitive spot below your ear. "I want to see my girl soak me."

The words were enough for you to feel your vision turn white and your body soften in Law's arms, while you used his name as a mantra. Without waiting for you to recover, Law held you on his lap, still inside you and took you to the nearest wall, starting to thrust into you mercilessly again.

"It's too much, please."

"Just a little more." Law murmured, his face stuck in the back of your neck, biting every piece of exposed skin. "Just give me one more."

"Damn, right there." Your voice was thin and broken, almost inaudible. Law hit the right spot inside you and in your limited field of vision, you could see the red tone on Law's skin just below your nails. "L-Law! I'm feeling something... Damn Law!"

Law could feel his dick getting wet as he watched you having a squirt that from your reaction he believed was the first time. His name sounded like the hottest thing he had ever heard and when he saw your pussy gushing he couldn't control himself and came, filling you with his seed, that would be a worry for later.

"I-I..." you started to speak to even that seemed too much for you, and you just let your head fall on his shoulder.

Feeling your body weak, Law guided you back to the bed, allowing you to lie against his body. The tattooed hands drew something invisible on your skin and your breathing was labored. "The wall... the neighbors..." you tried to list, still feeling weak. When you looked up to see if Law was listening to you, you found him smiling mischievously. "What are you thinking?"

"I heard we have an interesting neighbor here at the hotel." the pieces fell into place, making your face burn in embarrassment.

"She's going to hate me, even more."

"If it helps you, she already hated you." Law explained, caressing your cheek. "In the bar, she was the one who told that guy to talk to you."

"Ah, that doesn't make me feel any better. You mean a guy only hit on me because she asked?"

"What does that mean?" He seemed indignant and you quickly tried to correct yourself.

"I was already feeling ugly, that didn't make it much better."

"Do you need one more to understand how beautiful you are?" you knew exactly what Law was telling you about and you felt your face burn with shyness. "She's just a frustrated person, don't worry about anything she told you."

"Sour, damn blonde." you mumbled, earning a laugh from Law, who whispered your name softly, catching your attention.

"You know you're the only one, right?" he asked and you nodded. "And that you are amazing and beautiful."

"You're also the only one." his eyes followed your smile, as you snuggled into him. "And incredible, beautiful, strong. If I keep listing them, I'll end up putting you to sleep." you laughed, seeing Law acquire a more serious expression. "A coin for your thought"

"I-I... I lo..." he could remember what you had called him, he knew very well the feelings he had for you, but it seemed so difficult to bring them to the surface.

He still remembered when he allowed himself to actually feel that way for someone and watch those people leave him. Law knew he couldn't bear to see you go through the same thing. Taking him out of his daydreams and the speech stuck on his lips, you reached out to reach Law's forehead and place a small kiss, before then cuddling up to him again.

"I know. And so do I." you had your own fears, your own traumas and fears, you understood his fear.

For now it would be better this way, if your love remained between the two of you.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #mdni #smut #trafalgar one piece

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moon-rivr · 2 months

Text

easiest thing

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman reader

contents: reader who thinks they’re hard to love and miguel who loves them so easily, mentions of death at the beginning, reader goes to therapy, somewhat angsty and fluffy?

author’s note: pls don’t take the characterization for ‘you’ srsly, this was purely self indulgence 🫡

word count: 4.3k

"Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

You'd given up on romance despite that you still had the lingering desire of wanting someone's eyes to sparkle everytime they looked at you and of wanting someone that just understood you in a way that nobody else had access to. You were a hopeless romantic with a shitty life in general, to say the least. If it wasn't the fact that you ended up getting ghosted time and time again or the fact that every talking stage you had ended up flopping like a fish out of water, it was the only best friend that you'd had dying. A part of you shut off the day you were forced to kneel down next to your Peter Parker, every sliver of hope in you fading away at the same rate that the life faded away from his eyes.

You knew that you weren't responsible for Peter's passing, but a part of you wished you could've done more than just watch the life from his body fade within your very eyes. You'd felt like the strongest person in the world up to that moment, being able to lift vehicles and pieces of rubble with ease, but in the moment, you were just as vulnerable as anybody else. You wished that you could've taken note of the strange behavior he elicited beforehand, that you weren't so caught up in your own issues to take note of what burdens he was struggling with. But now, all you could do was just linger on what you could've done, should've done, and what you wished you'd done differently.

You forced yourself to try to go through the motions of living without Peter, every task seeming more and more difficult with each day that passed by. Showering seemed like a tedious task, the almost borderline sting of the boiling water doing nothing to distract you from the pain that lingered in your heart. You'd even considered giving up the mantle of being Spider-Woman, the red and blue spandex suit collecting dust in the back of your wardrobe. Not even a year had passed by when you'd lost your Uncle Ben, the words from his dying lips ringing through your head. "With great power comes great responsibility," you murmured quietly to yourself, deciding to put on the suit after you'd failed to show up for New York time and time again these last few months.

You'd thought that coming back would be like riding a bike, that you wouldn't forget it no matter how much you willed yourself to try. But clearly, you'd been mistaken seeing as how you were currently dangling off the edge of the Empire State Building. You'd shot a web to cling onto the side of a building, finding yourself coming up short as nothing came out of your wrists. "Come on," you murmured to yourself, trying to stick your fingers in different positions to get the web to come out. It was almost like your body was giving you the consequences of neglecting it for far too long, refusing to work with you when you needed it the most. The grip that you had on the building loosened, the stickiness from your fingers no longer there as you dropped to the floor.

You frantically stuck your hand out to try to stick a web as you rapidly began your descent, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You weren't sure if it was the humidity in the air or the sheer nervousness that was coaxing your body at the moment. Most likely the latter, but you didn't have time to think too hard about it as you willed for just one measly web to come out before you face planted onto the pavement. Your body was running strictly out of fear now as you got dangerously close to the floor now, your mind starting to accept the situation for what it was. While you'd completely given up on trying more than surviving after Peter had died, all you knew now is that you didn't want to die. You really didn't.

A shaky breath of relief escaped from your lips when you stuck to a building near you, the web that you'd been hoping for so badly coming into fruition. You looked down at the floor, silently thanking the web sticking to the side of the building after realizing just how close you'd gotten to actually hitting the floor. After that near-death experience, you'd decided to get back into training your body before you went out to patrolling the city like you used to. Forcing yourself out of bed was less difficult as the days passed, finding a purpose to get yourself out of your house everyday. Your body wasn't the fighting machine that it used to be but you were willing to work to get just a sliver of what you used to have.

It wasn't long until the citizens of new york city started noticing that Spider-Woman was back, met with some disapproval but overall, everyone just seemed thrilled over the comeback. The city had been buried in a cesspool of chaos and robberies after you'd left. A few of the small fry were smart enough to drop their sketchy business before they got caught, an instant relief felt in the small businesses throughout the city. You couldn't help but feel suspicious as even the villains that found joy in threatening the city had gone under wraps, your mind running through all the possibilities of what they could possibly be planning. Your feet swung off the building you were monitoring from, your eyes shifting to every little noise elicited below you.

Your feet sprung up to action faster than you'd expected when you heard the sound of rubble crumbling underneath you, the sound of screaming ringing through your ears as you swung throughout the different buildings. You went to the scene of the danger, a distinction from the people that were fleeing from the scene while screaming at the top of the lungs. You approached the scene, watching as Rhino destroyed every building that he had access to. a malicious smile on his face as he controlled the metal suit, taking pleasure in the way that the city panicked under his control. You weren't one to make any ceremonious entrances, simply swinging into action as you wrapped a web from underneath him to tie his feet together.

You'd taken a couple hits from the fight, your body still not used to the strain of these fights after only week of training. Despite the fact that every muscle in your body was begging for you to stop, to give into the exhaustion, you refused to give up just yet. "Just a little longer," you mentally assured yourself, the muscles in your legs starting to burn as you ran over to the Rhino. You wanted to separate him from any of the citizens that might've stayed to watch the fight, unable to take even just one casualty tonight. You rendered the suit useless after tying it up to the wall, punching through the thick glass of what seemed to resemble the eyes. You pulled out what seemed to be a cheap copy of the original out of the suit, your eyes widening at the realization that this was all a decoy.

Miguel was watching your fight intently through the monitor, watching your movements as you tied the villain down. It was everything that he would've done in your situation, every movement graceful as you kept the villain away from any civilians. "Thinking about her as a new recruit?" LYLA asked from beside him, popping up into view as she took in the sight of your reflexes. "She'd be a nice addition," Miguel uttered quietly, entranced by the way that your body moved under the spandex. He'd been overlooking your universe for quite some time, finding a couple things that elicited some red flags in the system during your absence. He found it impressive the way that you'd managed to put your pain to the side for the greater good of New York City, willing to come back and fight despite the fact that you had no one to be personally fighting for.

Blood leaked from the side of your mouth as you received a blow from the actual Rhino, half your ribs bruised from the sheer impact of his metal fists pounding into your body. His suit was nearly indestructible, you were unable to take him down but you were able to tie him. Almost as if sensing your plan to restrain him, he avoided every single one of the webs that you'd struck out at him and landing a couple hits in the process. You were reeling on the floor, clutching your stomach as the man mocked your position on the floor. Every little comment escaping from his mouth serving to belittle your position as Spider-Woman, of doubting your ability to protect the people of New York City. You hated the effect that his words had on you, every single little utter only serving to deepen the insecurities that you already felt about yourself.

Your eyes widen a bit as you noticed the man in front of you glitch, making it all too evident that this wasn't your Rhino. You had noticed that it was taking you a bit longer to get past his defenses. You were thinking of giving up, giving into the pain and exhaustion coursing through your body when you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up like a soldier on command. An orange portal appeared by the side, the swirling waves almost distracting you from the task at hand. You'd managed to briskly avoid a punch thrown by the robot, your legs barely sustaining you as you stood up. You expected for the portal to show some of the goons that the Rhino called for assistance, but you were instead met with people that were all too similar to you. They all wore the spider emblem on their suit, their movements synced to precision as they fought against the villain.

You'd joined the fight to the best of your ability, helping them tie down the villain until one of the members captured the man in a trap. You were approached by a rather tall man just as you were getting ready to leave, his figure imposing over yours as he looked down at you. The mask on his face disappeared with one tap of the watch he had on, his gaze showing no emotion in it as he looked over at you. "I want to formally invite you to the Spider Society. It's where spider-people from different universes come and gather to fight against anomalies, I'd recommend for you to give it a thought," he spoke up, his hand extending a watch similar to the one he had on over to you. "This should teleport you to the building whenever you're ready."

You looked down at the watch as you realized it was nearly a week since it'd been given to you, the decision still not clear to you despite how long you'd looked at it. While there was nothing here for you in this universe, no prospect of friendship, family, or romance, a part of you didn't want to leave out of how comfortable you were at the moment. You'd gotten used to the cycle of the crime rates in New York, of fighting small time criminals and the occasional villain that tormented the city. You thought to yourself about what Peter would do, trying to convince yourself that he would be assuring your decision to stay stuck in this spot. With every attempt that you tried to rationalize your decision, you were only met with more reasons as to why you should go. Your finger pressed the button on the gizmo hesitantly, looking at the portal appearing inside of your apartment.

You were awestruck as you walked into the Spider Society, overwhelmed by just how many different universes you'd been so blissfully unaware of. There was a Spider-Cat, Spider-Dino, and even a car version of Spider-Man, interacting like it was normal. The building itself was also impressive, a modern design to match those of the buildings outside of it. You'd thought of flying cars as a figment of your imagination but here they were, a common sight as they moved through the sky. "You're the new recruit, right?" A small orange holographic woman appeared in front of you, waiting for your confirmation before she led you inside. "Grab one of the bracelets on that table over there before you start to glitch out."

Before you got the chance to ask what she meant by 'glitch out,' you felt like your body was struggling to even mobilize. The atoms inside you seemed to be defying the building you were in, some of them morphing you into a different shape before it stopped. You quickly pulled the bracelet onto your wrist, following the holograph into the room that she led you in. "He'll be down from his platform in a second. That thing usually takes a while to load," she informed you, fading away just as soon as she'd arrived. You looked up at the platform as it started to lower, every second of waiting only making you feel more nervous about the situation. It was the same man that had given you the watch beforehand, the leader of this whole organization if you had to assume.

Miguel took one look at your expression, your eyes holding so much pain buried within them even if you were trying your best to plaster a smile on your face. Even that seemed to be crumbling under his very eyes, though, your smile not quite meeting your eyes as it wavered with every second that he spent looking at you. He knew the pain that came with being Spider-Man, knew of all the sacrifices that the people in his society faced once they took on the role. He'd seen this story play out multiple times, whether it be with Ben, Gwen, or with Peter. But for some reason, unknown even to himself, he couldn't handle seeing you so upset. "Welcome to the Spider Society, I'm Miguel O’Hara. Allow me to show you around."

Miguel took you along through the different areas in the society, taking in your reactions of everything that it offered. You couldn't help but notice that every member that the two of you passed seemed to look at him with awe, immediately scrambling to find something to do. "If you ever want or need someone to talk to, we have a licensed therapist on the first floor. Everything's confidential so you don't have to worry about anything getting out," he spoke up once he was finished with the tour of the facility, his red eyes meeting yours for the first time this evening. The orange hue in the background only accentuated how beautiful they truly were, the intensity that his gaze held.

Maybe it was the fact that he didn't want you to turn out like had, so consumed in your own pain that you'd become a shell of the person of who you used to be. A way for him to prevent yourself from delving in too far in your pain, the way he had when he neglected to speak his native tongue because it just reminded him time and time again of how his mamá had failed to show up for him. You weren't a bunch of sunshine and rainbows from what he could tell from the few clips that he'd seen from you in your element, but even he could tell that you were hiding the pain you felt. He wanted to be the helping hand he wished he could've had when he was struggling with Gabriella’s loss, the helping hand he wished he could’ve just had in general.

“I don't really need therapy but thank you," you assured him, thanking him once more for welcoming you as a member before making your way out of the room. While subconsciously you could feel that there was something wrong with the way that you were perceiving the world and reacting to the things happening in your life, you didn't want to feel like too much of a burden. You didn't want to take that help away from the people that could need it, despite the fact that you could tell within yourself you were slowly starting to wear down from the events happening in your life. Before you could go to get help, you had to acknowledge that deep within, you truly did need someone's help during this period of your life. But for now, you would just keep your head down and prove your worth in the society.

You'd made your way into therapy after you decided that maybe it wasn't as bad as you imagined, that admitting to yourself that you needed help hadn't been the end of the world. You'd managed to work out through your feelings of grief about losing peter and Uncle Ben, learning that it was okay to miss them just as long as you didn't let your life stop from the grief that you felt. Despite the fact that you'd made some progress with that aspect of your life, you refused to touch any topic that covered the progress of your romantic life. Maybe because you knew that it would delve into further issues, knowing that it would make you think about why you felt unwanted. You weren't ready to deal with those issues just yet, unsure if you would ever be ready to divulge.

You were slowly starting to come around to being the version of yourself that you used to be, of getting back into doing the things that you once enjoyed doing. You'd picked up a couple books from the library at the society, spending some of the time that wasn't training or going out on missions reading about silly romance novels. If it wasn't that, you'd found different activities that you found yourself enjoying. You realized that you wouldn't have tried them out if it weren't for the state of your life right now, having lived in a state of doing whatever was comfortable between Peter and you. You were finding things that belonged solely to you, finding memories that weren't involved with missing anybody.

Miguel wasn't too obvious with the way that he presented his feelings towards you, but if you'd looked a little closer, you would've noticed the little details. How the grumpy boss who avoided making meaningless conversation with everyone else seemed to present an interest in everything that you had to say, asking you questions of how you were adjusting to the Spider Society and asking questions about things that you showed an interest in. He knew that you were still coping with your problems so he didn't want to push you too far, didn't want to push you too far away from him. He was happy to keep talking to you in a platonic matter, just getting to hear that little rise in your pitch whenever you were excited filling him up with a sense of peace and tranquility.

"LYLA, can you log into her amazon account for me?" He spoke up to her, unable to decide what to get you for your birthday. He'd had months to plan out what he wanted to gift you, but every gift seemed to be dwindled in quality when he compared it to the type of person that you were. You were worth more than the complimentary pair of socks he was so accustomed to gifting the members of the society whenever they had a birthday. LYLA’s confusion was evident across her features but she complied with his request, hacking through your account to pull up your cart. While you had some necessities on there, you also had a list of the books that you were planning on getting in the near future. Perfect.

To say that it was the easiest purchase he's made in his life was a bit of an understatement, he was waiting anxiously to see the excitement on your face once you opened his gift. You'd even joked that he seemed more excited about the gift opening than you were. He watched as you opened up the gift carefully, trying not to rip apart the wrapping paper that he'd chosen for you. Your eyes practically sparked up with excitement at opening up the box, finding the catalog of books you were putting to the side until you were able to buy them. You were rendered speechless for a bit, your eyes shifting from the books over to Miguel who was standing to the side, gauging for every one of your little reactions.

"Thank you!" You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him as you enveloped him into a hug. The action was foreign to him, something he hadn't bothered to practice in a while. but every thought of that went out the window as his arms came to your back, rubbing small circles as he looked down at you. "I hope this means you liked your present," he spoke just loud enough for you to hear, an intimate scene set between the two of you despite the fact there was a crowd of people partying around. "I love it, thank you so much," you told him, the tightness of your embrace speaking for all the words you couldn't get out of your mouth at the moment. He let you cling onto him as long as you needed, unwilling to deny you anything.

Miguel wasn't planning on acting on his feelings, but eventually decided that it would be better to get a rejection straight up than stay wondering 'what if?' He ran different scenarios of how it would go, some of them resulting in the two of you going out on a date while some of them resulted in you ignoring him throughout your duration at the Spider Society. He tried hard not to focus on those thoughts too much, letting himself have a false sense of positivity despite the fact that you hadn't reciprocated his feelings at all. He ran different approach methods in his mind, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to you but every thought in his head seemed to be rendered useless just by taking a good glimpse at you in your natural state. Curled up on the couch with a book in your hand, the faint glow from the sun shining through the window illuminating your features.

"Hey, do you mind if I talk to you?" He came up by your side as you were reading one of the books he'd gotten for your birthday, a small smile appearing on your face as you looked over at him. "Yeah, for sure. What's up?" You asked him, scooting over on the couch to give him space to sit down. He sat down next to you, almost seeming nervous in front of you as he twiddled with his thumbs. It was a sight to behold, the man usually in command of every room he walked into nervous at the prospect of getting rejected. "I wanted to ask you out on a date. If you don't want to, I completely understand. I just hope it won't ruin what you've built here at the Spider Society," he finally spoke up after what seemed to be a couple minutes of silence, his eyes hesitant to look into yours as he waited for you to process the information.

You'd been oblivious to these signs for months, unable to even fathom that someone would see you in that way. You were so convinced that you weren't someone that people saw as date-worthy, that you were only a placeholder until they were able to find someone better. You blinked slowly as you tried to let his words sink in, the look on your face vulnerable as you looked up at him. "You're not joking right?" You tried to confirm, hoping that you weren't being used as the butt of a joke this time around. You'd started to grow comfortable around Miguel, enjoying being around his company and even envisioning him whenever you had your nose buried in a book. "No I’m not joking," his voice was gentle as he assured you, his hand holding yours as he rubbed circles on the back of yours.

"Then yes. I'd like to go out on a date with you," you finally accepted his invitation after no recording crew had come out to expose themselves.The two of you spent a couple seconds in silence before he spoke up again. "Pudiera escribirte un libro como esos que tanto te gustan nomas hablando de cuanto tu presencia me alumbra la vida y aun no seria suficiente para describir el amor que siento por ti, preciosa. You make me forget every word in my repertoire just by looking into your eyes," he murmured, his Spanish coming out nearly perfect despite the fact he hadn't bothered to speak it aloud in a couple years now. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

(I could write you a book like those you really like, just talking about how much your presence illuminates my life and it still wouldn't enough to describe the love I feel for you, precious)

Despite reading and re-reading all the romance books stacked up on your shelf at home, you'd never actually imagined that you'd be the one in the main character's position now. You lived vicariously through those books, all the romantic moments that you longed for merely described as words on paper. You remembered picking out books with the male's pov just to get that glimpse of what adoration sounded on both sides, of getting a picture of what you wanted someone to think about when they saw you. You'd seen multiple people in your life getting into relationships, assuring you empty promises that you'd find the person for you when the time was right, and you’d dismissed it all as pure bullshit. But all that waiting seemed worth it at the thought of going out with Miguel.

You couldn't help but feel butterflies taking flight in your stomach at the realization that Miguel, one of the smartest people you've ever met who seemed to have a response for everything, was rendered speechless just by having you around. The feeling was almost overwhelming as you slowly started to let your guard down around him, letting him love you the way he wanted to love you. You realized now that maybe you weren't as unlovable as you thought you were, that you weren't too broken to be the object of someone's love and admiration, just that you'd been seeking those things from the wrong people. All you wanted was to express the same love that he’d expressed towards you despite the lack of experience.

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