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inhonoredglory · 9 months

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Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #it's kinda like capt america: civil war #with Azi as Tony Stark: traumatized and trying to do the right thing #and Crowley being Steve Rogers: fuck the establishment let's go rogue #gos2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go s2 #michael sheen #go s2 meta #go meta #*mine #*mymeta #ineffables husbands #ineffable soulmates #*mybest

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daloy-politsey · 2 years

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“They’re trying to discharge her constructively. Do you know what Constructive Discharge means?” She asked.

As soon as I heard the term ‘Constructive Discharge,’ I knew I’d never seen it on a vocabulary quiz.

“No. What does it mean?” I asked.

She explained.

“Constructive discharge is a fancy way of saying “being forced out.” It’s not good. And if you’re not a lawyer or in human resources, you’ll probably learn what it means when it’s happening to you.”

“Oh my God. I’ve seen this my entire career and never knew it even had a name.” I thought.

You’ve seen constructive Discharge too. You may have experienced it. We’ve all made choices to avoid it.

Constructive discharge defined

“We can’t fire you, but we’ll make you so miserable you’ll quit, and then we won’t have to pay your unemployment.”

Then there’s the textbook definition:

“A constructive discharge occurs when your employer has made working conditions unbearable, forcing you to resign.”

Or as one person put it.

“I didn’t get handed a pink slip, but when you’re not wanted, people have a way of letting you know.”

HR isn’t always the secret police.

Employees aren’t always victims of evil-doers.

However, employers push employees out all the time to maintain and protect the, “We didn’t do anything wrong, YOU did,” power structure.

Constructive Discharge looks like this:

— Meeting invitations slow to a trickle, and you’re excluded from emails and generally looped out of what’s going on.

— People stop talking to you or stop talking when you walk in.

— Your emails don’t get answers, or they arrive too late to be of value.

— Suddenly, your work is not good enough, though nothing about your work has changed.

— Reviews, once good or even glowing, are now mediocre or bad.

— Instead of a bonus, you get a Performance Improvement Plan.

— Warnings and write-ups start so they can justify your eventual termination with documentation of your “poor performance”

— Your work, clients, assignments go away, or they overwhelm you with work.

— The words “Set up to fail” were practically invented to describe this scenario.

Constructive Discharge is illegal

It isn’t easy to prove you’re a target, and it’s even more challenging if you don’t even know constructive discharge is a real thing.

If you’ve ever experienced this and don’t fully understand what’s happening to you beyond knowing you’re in the process of being excommunicated, it can be hell. It’s not uncommon for the experience to leave long-lasting scars.

Talk to anyone who’s ever been through it. They’ll tell you.

Knowing constructive discharge exists and how it’s used gives you power to predict what’s coming and to protect yourself.

Seeing the endgame helps you in two ways.

You know what to expect. Having a sense of what’s coming next is enormously empowering. You can go on the offensive and protect yourself. Constructive discharge works to crush your ego, making you feel you did something wrong and deserve this treatment.

Without strategy, you end up being a miserable pawn in your employer’s endgame.

Remember, they’re almost certainly building a case to fire you in the event the hellscape they create for you doesn’t persuade you to quit.

If you’re getting pushed out, and you know what to look for you can prove constructive discharge and you can get unemployment benefits, be released from payback obligations on a signing bonus, and protect your mental health.

You’re not crazy, incompetent, or a failure. This is real and it’s carefully executed to leave you holding the bag and feeling like you did something wrong.

If they force you out, in addition to feeling horrible, you lose your paycheck, benefits health insurance, and possibly owe them money.

#labor

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prettieinpink · 5 months

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NEW YEAR, NEW ME

( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )

If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year.

EVALUATION

Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least.

Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life.

Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why?

List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you.

This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year.

PREPARING & PLANNING

To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey.

Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow.

For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment.

For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet.

Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this.

Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you.

Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.

I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out.

This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa.

Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail.

Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details.

Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals.

I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals.

Questions and How They Help

Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment.

How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement.

How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.

I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals.

To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it.

Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink).

E.g using eating healthy example

I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect.

Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress.

EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN

Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.

Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.

Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.

Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day.

AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE

Academics

Spiritual

Fitness/sport

Health and wellbeing

Mental health

Personal life

Relationships

Hobbies and recreation

Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!

Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc.

Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.

Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.

Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.

Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.

Materialistic Wants

I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.

However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.

It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!

Conclusion

If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.

Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨

To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏

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rootbeerworshiper · 21 days

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hands on learning

virgin!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: finding out new information about your best friend has made you realize he has lots left to learn, and you’re more than willing to offer a helping hand.

warnings: smut!! fem!recieving, riding, overstimulation, slight orgasam denial, fingering, unprotected sex, slight corruption kink

a/n: i feel like i disappeared from writing on my page for a while because i’ve been helping with so many other accounts butttt i hope this makes up for my absence

dedicated to my love @luv4kozume

4.5k words

love, sienna <3

“there’s no way” you gawk, sitting up in bed next to your best friend who’s beneath you with a sure expression plastered on his face. “there has to have been a girl from highschool or something”

his cheeks flush a light shade of pink, his body making it clear just how embarrassed he really is. “i’m serious” he says, shrugging as he sits up to be eye level with you.

you think for a second, silence filling the air surrounding you. “what about Alexis? you had a thing with her for a while didn’t you?”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back into the headboard as his legs shift slightly to get more comfortable. “you’re never gonna let this go are you?”

you scoff, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you look to him. “you’re telling me, Matt Sturniolo, my best friend, is a virgin?”

he nods, causally as if this is the most normal information you could possibly gather—it’s far from that. “but you’re like…. hot” you say.

he chuckles slightly, shaking his head as it dips below his neckline, once again flustered. “i don’t think being ‘hot’ has anything to do with it” he mumbles under his breath.

your eyebrows furrow together, the pieces in your brain attempting to form a complete puzzle. “is that not exactly what it has to do with? like you could pull easy”

“what makes you say that?” he asks, a new sense of seriousness backing his tone as his eyes glimmer in your direction, causing a slight pit in your stomach.

you and Matt have always had a complicated friendship. the two of you technically dated back in freshman year of highschool but neither of you count it, instead staying steady in your friendship. but you can’t deny the tension that’s remained since, no matter how badly you wanted it to go away it was inevitable.

hearing the information of him being a virgin though? completely mind boggling to you.

you’ve thought about him in that position more times than you can’t count, part of you always wishing to see him that way, all flustered and sensitive under your touch. so new to any pleasure that you can provide to him.

but you had assumed a long time ago you lost your chance to witness that, to watch the innocence leave his body.

sex had never been a huge topic of discussion in your friendship, but usually with the two of you nothing was off limits, so you find it hard to believe he’s lying about this innocence instilled in him.

“don’t play dumb, even you know you’re attractive” you breath out, slightly annoyed at his need for you to spell it all out for him, it’s making you feel more desperate than you’d like. “you know how to talk too, i’ve seen the way you joke around with me, there’s no way you don’t have girls falling on their knees to get with you”

he seems to speak before his mind can even comprehend the words escaping his lips. “i’m only like that with you” his mouth cuts himself off, lips shutting before more words leave.

“only like what? you only flirt with me?” you ask, taunting him slightly as you use this new found sense of power to boost your self esteem.

his nails make their way to the back of his neck, trying desperately to scratch away the humiliation lingering. “well… i guess? i just feel comfortable around you or whatever, this doesn’t have to become a thing”

a new idea sets it self comfortably in your head, your salivary glands leaking to create a pool in your mouth as your imagination takes off. “have you thought about having sex with me?” he coughs, caught off guard at your sudden boldness. “you know, you’re so comfortable around me, what have you pictured me doing?”

the boy reverts his attention to avoid you, the topic causing a new restlessness in his small actions, only further intriguing you. “i think you’ve lost your mind” he lets out a breathy laugh as if to ease the tension you’ve created, but you want the tension to remain more than anything.

“i’ve thought about you” you say simply, earning a quick turn of the head followed by a shocked expression on his face.

he swallows, his eyes flickering around you as he tries to search for a hint of some form of a joke, a cruel lie maybe. but he can’t find anything. “now you’re being ridiculous”

you avoid the slight tang of hurt that attempts to infiltrate your chest, because part of you wants this more than you’re sure he does. “i’m dead serious. i’ll help you”

his eyebrows feather together, but he can’t kind the hope that fills his light blue irises, the desire for you is simply inescapable. “help me have sex?”

your lips spread to a smile. “sure. as your best friend i can’t let you be bad at sex with some girl you really like, so i’ll make sure you’re good”

the plan was simple, transactional even. you teach him how to give and receive pleasure and in return he won’t have an awkward actual first time with some innocent unsuspecting girl.

silence clouds the air in his bedroom for a moment, it’s as if you can see every thought in his brain as he mentally weighs his options.

as much as you maybe shouldn’t, your eye-line focuses on hands that twiddle together aimlessly, the mere size of them being enough to interest you—let alone the veins that coat the back of them.

it’s impossible to not let your mind wander a bit. he’s your best friend, maybe it’s not normal to be imagining him in such revealing positions but it seems as if it’s a thought your subconscious is more than okay with crafting.

“and we stay friends after this?” he asks the question that you’ve been asking yourself, the question that’s been torturing you.

you’re already in love with Matt’s personality, with his goofiness and sarcastic humour. you love him to death as it is—but it’s hard to imagine what being intimate with him will do to your psyche. “we stay friends, no strings attached”

the brunette thinks for a moment longer, ultimately coming to a conclusion. “okay, deal. but what’s in it for you?” he asks, a shot of anxiousness shooting through your stomach.

what’s in it for you? besides having sex with your best friend? not a lot.

“it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you’re not making girls fake their orgasams” you smile smugly, selling that faux answer as the truth. “we don’t have to you know, no pressure”

he almost jumps out of his position on the comforter, terrified that he’ll lose the opportunity to do what’s consumed his head for years. “no i want to, i do”

you almost let out a laugh at his newfound willingness but you fight the urge, instead shifting your body on top of his, straddling his lap before he has a chance to get another word in.

he looks up at you, his beady, unexplored eyes only making the tension between your legs grow impossibly more needy.

your arms find solitude on his shoulders, the back of your wrists resting gently as his own hands remain stagnant on his sides.

“what have you done?” you ask, fingers gently grazing the skin on the sides of his neck. “just so i know what we need to work on” also because you’re incredibly curious to know every detail.

he sniffles, eyes looking everywhere but your own as you stare down at him. “um just with Alexis i used my uh hands or whatever” his eyes look at you now and it takes everything in you to not become a puddle on his lap.

“so you fingered her?” your voice is different now, quieter but more focused on the musicality of your words, praying mentally that they flow right to his spine.

they do. “yeah i guess i did” he coughs out, hands still not being put to good use. this is until your hips roll ever so slightly, just enough to cause his hands to shoot up off the blankets.

“you can touch me you know, i don’t bite” you smile, teasing applying a strong pressure on his lap as you feel him grow beneath you at the friction. his hands trail up your sides delicately, testing the waters. “can i kiss you?” you whisper, feeling the need to ask. sex is one thing, but for whatever reason kissing feels like a bigger step.

he doesn’t reply, for once taking charge and bringing your lips down to his in a hungry surge of energy. the kiss sends currents through every nerve that lies in your lips, the plush closeness could leave you dizzy.

he has now put his hands to use, one ringed hand cupping your jaw while the other rests gently on your lower back. the kiss is nice, it’s a simple exchange that only proves to you that you need more of him. so as your lips move in a rhythm, you can’t fight the urge to grind yourself onto him mid kiss, causing his mouth to break the exchange and open slightly at the sensation.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, because realistically, this experience is for him more than it is for your own selfish benefit.

the boy smiles slightly, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth as if he’s a kid in the candy store who’s allowed to pick any treat he wants. “what do you want from me?” he asks, his fingers moving up and down your back teasingly. “i want you to enjoy this as much as i already know i will”

god you really do love him, it leaves you wondering if you even have anything to teach him. “so…. you fingered that alexis girl.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “did you give her head?” you ask, feeling suddenly exposed for the intrusive question you’re asking.

he shakes his head but doesn’t bother replying with words, instead placing your back onto the bed, allowing him to hover over you. “teach me” his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

you try your best to speak as he looks down at you “well you should probably start with some foreplay first maybe-“ you start, his lips make contact with your bare neck while his large hands slide up your sides. “maybe that” you gulp.

he seems comfortable with his movements, learning exactly how to make you squirm under him. each kiss he places on your neck has you leaning into him before, somehow you became the desperate one in this dynamic—not that you’re upset by that.

“and then…” his voice is low, quiet as his hands pull up your shirt slightly, looking into your eyes for an agreement.

you give a reassuring nod, eager for his movement to hurry up. but of course, he takes his time, slowly lifting the fabric above your chest while his mouth leaves marks on your neck.

your arms lift up subconsciously, earning a laugh from Matt as he complies, lifting the fabric completely over your head and tossing it gently to the side of his bed. he practically drools at the sight of you under him, licking his lips as he takes in the view—he could definitely get used to this.

after a moment you become impatient, pulling him down by his cheeks to plant another kiss on your lips, which he does willingly, his hands falling on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

it’s short lived when he pulls back. “i’m here to learn how to make you feel good yeah?” he asks, earning a nod in confirmation from you. “well i’d really like to get to that part if you don’t mind” he laughs slightly.

you smile in response. “i just really like kissing you i guess” it’s embarrassing to admit but at this point you’re past that.

“trust me” he leans in to kiss you one more time, his hands now being placed on your chest, fingers running slightly over your clothed nipples. “i do too”

it’s hard to not let things like that get to your head, constantly trying to remind yourself that this is just sex, you’re going to use each other for pleasure and then everything will go back to normal.

you feel hands travelling behind your back, unclasping your bra before you’re even able to sit up and help. that should not have been as hot as it was.

he slips the straps off your arms, fully taking in the new mesmerizing sight in front of him. it would be impossible for him to avoid staring, he’s seen so much of you over the years but this was his favourite yet. “you’re so beautiful” he shakes his head slightly. “you’re always beautiful, you’re just really hot right now”

as much as you really are flattered, you’re also so incredibly desperate. “Matt please touch me” you beg, pulling him down by his shirt.

“yes ma’am” his head dips down to your chest, his soft lips immediately latching onto your perked up nipple while his hands have their fun exploring your body.

it’s like he’s been waiting for this forever, fingers trailing up and down your body as he takes his time on each bud, making a point to leave a few marks on your chest.

he could be at your chest forever, this was something he’s thought about more than he’d like to admit, but he’s also thought about making you feel good, hearing you scream his name over and over. it’s safe to say he’s determined.

as his mouth continues to have fun with your chest, his hand trails up your leg, this time cupping you and placing a pressure on your clothes clit with his palm. you practically jolt forward at the unexpected contact, looking down to see a small smirk on the boy who now placing teasing kisses on your tense stomach.

his fingers start by rubbing slow, small pressurized circles on your throbbing bud, his other hand running its fingers through your hair. he really can’t help but stare, the whole thing still feels like some wet dream.

you feel a small tugging at the waistband of your pants. “can i?” the boy asks, his hair falling over his eyes slightly as he looks to you for permission. you just nod quickly, lifting your hips to allow him the space needed to pull down the fabric, him making it a point to pull down your underwear as well—to say he’s inpatient would be an understatement.

when you feel the fabric get pulled off your ankles you can’t help but keep your thighs together, it suddenly feels very real. Matt notices the sudden hesitation, running his hands from your shins, up your thighs, until both his hands are placed on your waist. “we can stop you know, i can pretend this never happened” he lies, attempting to make you feel better.

“i want this” you start, trying to figure out how to word what you’re about to say. “i just don’t know if i’ll be able to forget this happened. i already wanna do it again and we’ve barely done anything”

what you don’t know is that that sentence of yours is like music to his ears. “good” he dips his head back down to be eye level with your own, his forehead resting on you. “i’ve been wanting to do this forever” his hands come up slightly on your legs, placing a gentle pressure on your knees as he pushes your legs apart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands trail down to your inner thighs, his focus is much more clear now to say the least. “i can’t believe i get to see you like this” he shifts back down, his lips creating a slight suction on your lower stomach as he continues kissing you.

you try your best to stay still, the teasing nature of his actions making that task near impossible. “are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you spit out, eyes trained on Matt who’s taking his sweet time placing delicate kisses on your inner thighs.

he chuckles softly, clearing having his ego stroked at your praise. “i’m sure” his hands make way to your legs again, lifting them over his shoulders leaving your knees slung over. “tell me what to do”

“um usually you have to get it wet first, using your spit or something” you mutter out, already far gone at the mere thought of what’s to come.

Matt obliges to your advice, letting saliva fall from his mouth onto your throbbing sensitivity, taking a moment to watch as it slides down slowly before speaking again. “and then?”

it’s an uncomfortable thing to just…explain, but as his teacher you’re sort of obligated to. “you could start by kissing it a bit uh”

his lips make an immediate contact with your glistening clit, placing a few soft, open-mouthed kisses over the needy bud. the slowness is torture and you put up quite a fight in order to keep still. “like that?” he asks, his voice raspy now as his hands place a soothing pressure on your hips.

you nod, your hair falling over your face slightly. “you can just try and i’ll tell you if it’s bad”

he laughs a little at your need to receive pleasure, but ultimately agrees. “you have to tell me though” he places another small kiss to your inner thigh. “i wouldn’t wanna be giving out any ‘fake’ orgasams”

it’s clear he’s just teasing but you can already tell that nothing about tonight will be faked.

he starts with his tongue, testing the waters as he licks up and down your folds to gather up the wetness he’s caused, and he studies your every movement. he looks up to focus on how your body reacts to every flick of his tongue on your clit, taking mental notes on how to get you to enjoy it the most.

his melodic movements on your core have you bucking your hips forward to increase the pressure of his pink muscle. “just like that, so good” you moan out.

he smiles onto you, continuing his pace while taking turns between sucking and flicking his tongue, both options have you drenched. you try you best to keep your eyes focused on the messy brown hair that covers you but almost every movement of his fast tongue make you want to throw your head back.

the sounds leaving your mouth are exactly what he’s chasing, the whines you’re letting out only work to make him move faster against you. it takes you a moment to remember that this is a lesson, and you haven’t taught the boy much. “you can- fuck” you moan again. “you can add fingers”

he places one more kiss to your clit before coming back up to meet your eyes with his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks innocently.

you smile, wiping his lip slightly before agreeing and placing his mouth onto yours. it’s safe to say you’re both addicted to the newfound intimacy.

this exchange lasts slightly longer than the last few, you’re tongues gliding alongside one another comfortably. Matt now brings his hand back to your soaked core, catching you off guard as you moan into his mouth.

his fingers toy mindlessly with your clit while he kisses you, and you try your best to return the favour but it’s near impossible to keep your mouth closed. before you can even begin to think straight he inserts a finger into you, slowly curling up as you arch your back onto the mattress. “yeah you like that?” he questions, pulling off of your mouth but keeping his gaze focused on your face.

every twitch in your eyebrows and opening of your saliva covered lips has him eager to see more, to see what else he’s capable of making you feel. he picks up the pace slightly, shifting his body back down yet again as he slips in another finger.

you practically jolt up at the sudden fullness of a second length. as amazing as this is, you have little time to savour it before you feel a familiar tongue on your slit of ecstasy, working faster now than before.

it doesn’t take much of this to have you gripping the sheets and trying to shut your legs over the shaggy brown hair, but he doesn’t let up once, using his elbows to forcibly keep you spread for him. “Matt you’re so good”

your hips can’t help but grind onto his tongue as his fingers repeatedly make contact with your sweet spot. “i’m so” you throw your head back but he pulls his tongue away before you can finish your sentence.

“look at me when i make you feel good yeah?” his fingers continuing pumping in and out at a pace that leaves you speechless, so instead you nod, trying your best to follow directions from the person you were meant to be directing.

it doesn’t take much longer for the sensation in your stomach to build up, your legs shutting over his hand while his fingers relentlessly pump into you. you’re speechless for a moment, a rhythm of moans leaving your saturated lips as he works you through your orgasam.

it’s almost impossible to look at him but you try, most because it still doesn’t feel real that he’s the one causing you this pleasure. he pulls his fingers out before you get overstimulated, licking off his fingers before placing one more kiss to your incredibly sensitive clit, causing you to jolt forward slightly.

when he brings his body back up to meet his eyes to your own you can’t help but ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind. “how are you so good at this?”

he breaths out a laugh, bringing his hands to your sides again. “i guess i’ve been wanting to do it for a while”

you kiss him, because you can now. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in further, his body pressed against your own. you can’t help but feel the imprint on his pants place a gentle pressure on your core as he bites gently on your bottom lip. so you pull off. “it’s your turn to feel good yeah?”

he just nods, as if he wasn’t expecting you to return the favour so eagerly. you smile softly, flipping him over and wasting zero time reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

you brush over his messy hair that begins to cover his eyes, legs straddling his lap as you lean into him. “you’re so pretty like this” you whisper in his ear, running one hand down his exposed stomach while you place teasing kisses to his jaw.

it’s now obvious how inexperienced he really is based on his sensitivity to the touch you’re inflicting on his bare skin. you reach down further, his clothed dick filling your hand causing him to let out a small whimper.

you’re already impatient, fingers threatening to pull down the waistband of his pants. “can i?” you ask, mouth still incredibly close to his ear causing chills on his arms.

“please” he whines, a sound you’d really like to get used to.

you pull down the elastic band of his pants, along with his boxers, granting you full access. “tell me if anything i do isn’t okay, yeah? this needs to be as good for you as it was for me”

he nods again, your fingers placing a delicate touch to the veins that outline his length causing his to hiss. “can you use words please?” you ask, a smirk on your face at the control you know you have.

“yes its okay mmh” he moans out, your body shifting down on the bed slightly to place teasing kissing along his sensitivity.

“what do you want baby?” you ask, spit leaving your mouth and tricking down the tip of his dick, he’s a whole lot bigger than you were expecting.

his eyes shut closed, feathery eyebrows furrowing at the sensation of the warm liquid travelling down. “i want- fuck” you’re hand makes contact against, taking it in fully and stroking up and a teasingly slow pace. “i want whatever you’ll give me”

you smile again, lining your face with his as you cross your legs back over him. it would be really easy to sink down on him immediately, but not nearly as fun—instead you grab the base of his length, running the saturated tip through your folds.

you suppress your own moan, focusing on Matt’s pleasure. “you’ve been really good tonight for me” the sensation of his tip on your clit is addictive, you’re impressed he still hasn’t cum. “still wanna be a virgin?”

he shakes his head immediately. “please no”

“please what?” you tease, his tip lined up with your entrance but not daring to go deeper.

his hands make their way to your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin as he forces you down onto him. your hands fall to the bedding beside his head, elbows almost giving out as he thrusts repeatedly into you. “fuck Matt”

he slows for a moment, looking at you with a softness in his eyes. “this is okay right?”

you laugh in reply, rolling your hips onto him slightly, feeling just how well he fills you up. “this is more than okay, keep going please”

he takes that ask seriously, lifting his hips back up into your core as his tips hits your sweet spot.

it takes everything in him not to come right away, the teasing along with the mere feeling of giving you pleasure had already made him close, and now you’re on top of him with your walls closed around him.

he’s close, and you can tell.

“Matt baby you gotta hold it okay? focus on something else” you advise, brushing your thumb across the boys cheek as he bites his lip to suppress his constant moans.

Matt just nods, instead choosing to refocus on you. he reaches his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit again while the pace of his thrusts into you have you weak.

this refocusing on your pleasure has worked in his favour because now you’re close, his fingers toying with your clit while he continues to hit your sweet spot.

god he’s good.

his pace increases more, he’s now unable to hold back anymore, and you let him because you’re in the same position as him. “fuck i love you so much” he moans out.

you’re not sure how to take the sentence, you’re not even together and now he’s spewing out love confessions, but you also don’t disagree with his words, instead choosing to stay silent as your orgasam overtakes any thought you can muster up.

it’s not long before he’s there with you, accidentally releasing before thinking twice about what he’s doing. “fuck fuck sorry i uh-“

you laugh at his immediate fear. “i’m on birth control you’re okay” you reply out of breath, leaning down to kiss him once more for good measure. “i love you too by the way”

a/n: i hate the ending sm but we’re gonna ignore thattttt (please)

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo smut

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daisynik7 · 9 months

Text

[M4F] Husband Catches You Listening to Audio P*rn, Teaches You a Lesson [Soft Mdom] [Established Relationship] [Mild Degradation] [Praise] [Overstimulation] [Multiple Orgasms] [Creampie]

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn no plot, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), sex toys, mutual masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, sex without a condom, creampie, overstimulation, soft dom!Nanami, breeding kink, mild degradation (use of slut and whore), praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (honey, sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)

Summary: Nanami comes home early from his business trip and catches you doing something naughty in your bedroom. Author’s Note: Inspired by all the audio porn VAs that I listen to! Special shoutout to @mrsackermannx for raving about AugustInTheWinter with me. If you have not listened to him yet, PLEASE check him out, he’s incredible. Also, I’m clearly very delulu for Nanami currently, considering this is the third piece I’ve written for him within a week, but hey, this is my outlet! So I hope you enjoy! MDNI divider created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Your skin is sweltering against the sheets, sweat damp on your forehead and neck. Thighs are apart, vibrator buzzing on your clit, sleek with lube and arousal. You’re home alone; Nanami doesn’t return until tomorrow morning. Still, the thought of the audio porn playing on speaker makes you shy, so you have both earbuds in, listening to the sultry tones of your favorite voice actor moaning expletives directly into your ear. Such a good girl, oh fuck. You feel so good, sweetheart. Take that cock for me. You are so fucking tight, holy shit. The added sound effects of thwapping and wet squelches in the background immerse you into a state of erotic bliss, gushing for the second time tonight from the sensation of the toy pulsing on your throbbing bud.

“What do we have here?”

You jolt up when you hear your husband’s voice from the doorway, startled to see him standing there, leaning against the frame with a serious look on his face. His spectacles are on, covering his eyes, which you can tell are boring into you in this lewd position.

Popping your headphones off, you hide the vibrator under the pillow, as if he hasn’t already caught you red-handed. Closing your legs, you bat your eyelashes, feigning an innocent expression. “Honey! What are you doing here?” More heat rushes into your cheeks, scorching hot from your recent orgasm and current embarrassment.

He steps forward, sitting at the far edge of the bed, avoiding your gaze by staring at the floor, acting disappointed. “I managed to catch an earlier flight. Wanted to surprise you.” Dramatic, he turns to face you, eyes narrowed through his tinted lenses. “It appears that I am the one being surprised.”

Biting your lip to hold back your laughter, you crawl towards him, naked from the waist down, your panties discarded on the floor near his feet. He’s not actually upset; having been together long enough and in tune with each other’s emotions, you can tell that he isn’t seriously mad at you. This is a role he indulges in occasionally: stoic, strict husband with a mean streak when things don’t go his way. And you know exactly where this will lead to, so naturally, you play along. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t think you would be coming home tonight. I just thought I’d have a little bit of fun.” You massage his shoulders, nuzzling your face to his nape, giving him a loud smooch.

He shifts around in the bed, confronting you. “What were you listening to?” There’s legitimate curiosity in his voice, and now genuine guilt builds in your chest upon his question.

You swallow hard, anxious to admit the truth, too ashamed to lie to him. “Um, I was listening to porn. Audio porn.”

He raises a brow at you, confused. Then, he says, “Let me hear it.”

Reluctantly, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, resuming from where you paused. Wet slaps blare through the speaker, then a man’s voice, moaning, “Ah fuck, let me hear you. Let me hear you moan on my cock. Let me hear you take this cock. Yeah, like that baby, take it just like that.”

You bury your head in your hands, absolutely mortified as the pornographic dialogue continues. The audio comes to a halt when Nanami stops it, silently tapping at the screen. You’re still hiding in disgrace, squeezing your legs together tightly to conceal the evidence of your supposed sin. The tension is palpable, with neither of you speaking or making any sudden movements. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking, simultaneously terrified of his judgement.

He clears his throat; you peek through your fingers to catch him loosening his tie around his collar, removing the glasses from his face. He’s blushing, brows tight with contemplation. “Did you come to this?” he asks, almost breathless.

You lower your hands, fisting them into the sheets beneath you, nodding. Anticipating.

“Show me,” he demands, eyes at your lap. Too eagerly do you spread your legs, displaying your sopping cunt to him, staring at his lips part slightly, a barely audible growl resounding within his throat. Your uneasiness gradually slips into arousal, aching to be touched, even punished, by your formidable husband. He bows, licking his mouth, inspecting you like prey he’s about to devour. Flicking his eyes to yours, he mutters, “You’re a dirty slut for listening to this filth. Have you no shame?” He kneels before you, unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the white tee underneath. Chiseled chest and abs carved into the fabric like fucking marble.

Losing composure, you blurt out, “No shame, absolutely none. I’m fucking filthy.” Your pussy aches, toes clenched, thrilled.

“I can’t stand you listening to another man’s voice while you get off. It makes me sick thinking about it. Makes my blood fucking boil.” His tone is menacing in way that titillates every inch of your skin, has you shuddering from the low growl at the end of each sentence.

“Are you going to punish me?” you goad, saliva collecting on your tongue, heavy with lust.

“I can think of something better.” Reaching for your phone, he navigates through it, finding your voice recorder app. He taps on the big red button, setting it beside you. “From now on, you only come to my voice. Got it?”

You swallow hard, almost chocking on your spit when you respond, “Yes. Yes, baby.”

He grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Good girl.” His thumb traces the outline of your parted lips, your mouth inviting him in. But he doesn’t, leaning back on his wrists, observing you with the obvious bulge protruding from his slacks. “Get that vibrator. Show me how you do it.”

Obeying, you search for it under the pillow, retrieving it to rub the tip up and down your folds, finger on the trigger. “There you go,” he encourages, a cocky smirk on his face, slowly unbuckling the belt around his waist, sliding it from the loops and tossing it aside. “Tease it a little before you turn it on. Make sure it’s exactly where you want it.”

You tap the toy on your swollen bud, already sensitive from your earlier climax. You meet his gaze, waiting for a signal. He slides out of his pants and briefs, revealing his erection sprung against his belly. Before he does anything else, he grabs your phone and sets it on the bed between you. Palming his length, he grins. “Go ahead.”

What a fucking menace he can be.

Pushing the button, the vibrator immediately pulsates on you, causing you to twitch from the intense sensation. He watches, fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself, thumb grazing the slit. “Look at you. My gorgeous girl,” he purrs. “My perfect angel with the prettiest pussy. Can’t wait to stretch you open with this cock. Bury myself deep inside you. Fill you up with my cum.”

“Fuck, Kento,” you whimper, pressing the fluttering tip firmer, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You’ve always loved his hands; how pristine they are with his knuckles tight on his skin. Large, strong, then rough on the pads of his fingers from hard work and constant use. They’re even prettier in a fist surrounding his cock, wrist jerking hastily, precum glistening at the tip. Your entire focus is on him touching himself while he watches you do the same, the toy’s low hum enhanced when it’s snugly nestled to your clit.

“You like it when I talk nasty to you, huh?” he huffs, readjusting himself nearer to you. He’s so close, you can practically feel the tip of his cock at your quivering pussy. “Is it better than listening to your ridiculous pornography?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, jutting your hips out, attempting to close the gap.

“Unlike them, I can actually touch you,” he muses, his tip teasing your entrance. “I can do whatever I want, whatever you want. They don’t get to fuck this sweet cunt like I get to. They don’t get to taste you the way I do.”

Suddenly, he grabs the vibrator from your grasp, shutting it off and setting it back under the pillow. He shifts down the bed, positioning his head between your thighs, diving in tongue first onto your puffy clit. Pleasure resonates from your core throughout your limbs, legs shaky and mind hazy as he slobbers all over you, covering your bud in his frothy spit. It’s sloppy, salacious, straight up nasty. After only a few strokes of his tongue, it’s already enough to send you into your third orgasm of the night, more powerful than the first two combined when you were alone.

You’d be a fool to expect him to let up after coming once with him; still, it shocks you when he doesn’t stop. He latches to you harder, suckling on your sensitive clit until it’s plump between his glossy lips and you’re crying out, “Too much!” overstimulated and spasming above him. Sometimes, when he’s in one of these moods, he forgets his own virility, always so keen on making you orgasm multiple times in one go. Tonight, he forgets that you had already been prepping yourself since earlier. With a gentle kiss, he relents, indulging in his work by running his tongue along your gushing pussy, drinking up your cum. He reaches for his cock, stiff between his stomach and the bedsheets under him. On his knees, he returns to his spot from earlier, stroking his cock with the tip just barely in your entrance.

You’re absolutely spent, but you yearn for him inside you, desperate to be filled with his load. “Come in me, baby,” you beg, gripping his wrist to pull him closer. “Fuck me.”

He lets out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head. “Not yet, princess. You have to be patient. We’re just getting started,” he smirks, stroking himself faster. “Are you just so fucking needy for my cum?” You nod erratically, tempted to thrust yourself onto him.

“Then beg for it,” he orders, sliding his cock the slightest bit further inside you. “Convince me that you deserve it.”

Understanding what he wants, you retrieve your little toy again, rubbing small circles with it on your bud, smearing whatever is left of your orgasm around it. “Please, Kento. Please. I need it. I need it.”

The sight of you like this has him dangling on the very edge, so close to climax. “Turn it on,” he demands. You do, the buzz electrifying all the nerves in your body yet again. You chant his name over and over until he shoots insides you, spurts of opaque cum flooding your pussy. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Take that fucking cum. Take all of it. Fuck.” His voice is hushed, breathy and trembling from the high.

You stop the vibrator, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Nanami crawls next to you, cradling you in his arms. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispers, “Are you okay?”

You smile, turning to face him, nuzzling his chest. “Of course.”

He caresses your face, trailing down your body to rest his hand at your waist. He glances at your phone beside you. “We’re still recording, you know.”

You giggle. “And…?”

He kisses you softly, tongue flitting past your lips, guiding you flat on your back, spreading your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.” His hand glides to your loins, toying with your swollen clit before teasing your entrance, brimming with his creampie. “Can you still take it, sweetheart?”

You nod, breath hitching, cuddling closer to him. Smiling sweetly at you, he eases a finger in, cum overflowing your pussy and trickling out from your slit. He slides in another easily, stretching you open, a whine escaping you. His mouth is hot on your ear. “You love this, don’t you? Me finger fucking my cum deeper inside you. Taking it like an obedient whore.” He picks up the pace, your cunt clenching his digits. “I’m going to get you pregnant tonight. Breed you, make you mine. You want that, sweetie?” His fingers writhe inside you, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly until you’re tight around him, ready for another orgasm. At this point, you’ve stopped keeping count, lost in a sex-fueled craze instigated by your husband.

“Yes, Kento. Give it to me. I want it. I want it so bad.” You notice he’s hard again, his erection stiffening against your leg. Reaching for him, you rub your hand on his length, feeling it twitch from your touch.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling out from you. He sits up, back to the headboard, beckoning. “Get on my lap. Hurry,” he urges, hoisting you towards him. You straddle him, guiding his cock to your entrance. “Sink down on it. There we go,” he instructs, eyes wide, desperation etched in his tone. He needs this just as much as you do, and it drives you wild. You follow his command, lowering yourself onto him, his dick sliding in smoothly, bottoming out. “That’s my good girl. Fuck. You’re so good to me. So fucking good to me.”

You start riding him the way he likes, your ass slapping loudly on his thighs. He’s moaning endlessly, throwing in the occasional fuck and pet name as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep steady, holding him tightly. “Want your cum,” you manage to utter, enraptured in the scorching pleasure he surrounds you in.

He's fucking up into you, feet planted at the end of the bed. The mattress creaks with every thrust of his cock. In a huffy breath, he says, “Milk it out of me, honey. Milk me fucking dry. You can do it sweetheart; I know you can.” The praise encourages you to ride him faster, rougher, your bodies in tandem, springing on the bed, moaning into each other’s mouth with a passionate kiss.

Soon, he pulsates inside you, stuffing you even fuller with his cum. You climax once more, gripping his cock with your fluttering pussy. He cradles you in a cozy embrace, catching his breath, nuzzling his nose to your chest. You giggle, running you fingers through his hair, smooching the top of his head. “You okay?” you ask, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

He nods, exhaling deeply. “Just let me hold you. Need to calm down.”

You laugh, amused by his current state of post-coital euphoria. Fetching the phone teetering precariously at the edge of the bed now, you tap on the red button to stop the recording. Seeing this, he mentions, “You know I don’t actually mind you listening to that kind of stuff, right?”

You smile, noticing the guilt in his voice, massaging his back. “I know, honey. I know you don’t.”

He squeezes you, taking a deep breath. “Okay, good. Just want to make that clear.”

You cup his cheek, thumb caressing the stress lines along his face, gradually relaxing to your touch. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather listen to this than some stranger on the Internet.”

Chuckling, he replies. “Maybe it makes me feel a little bit better.” He snuggles closer to you, hugging you tight, reluctant to let you go. Eventually, the two of you slip beneath the covers, getting comfortable with Nanami spooning you from behind.

You glance at the screen, showing the several minute long recording and the play button adjacent to it, ready to be tapped. “So,” you start, craning your neck to smirk at him. “Should we give it a listen?”

He returns your grin, shifting beside you, cock growing hard between your ass cheeks. “Absolutely.”

#nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x f!reader #nanami x fem!reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #jjk nanami #husband!Nanami #nanami soundgasm

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supercutszns · 3 months

Text

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth.

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying.

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known.

Meet me tomorrow.

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be.

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest.

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces.

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows.

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is.

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off.

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.”

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed.

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly.

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck.

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare.

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then?

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.”

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you.

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it.

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip.

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz.

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back.

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.”

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used.

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it?

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it.

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth.

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom.

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open.

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin.

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince.

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games.

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry.

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees.

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter.

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on.

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling.

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills.

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.”

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday.

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else.

Until he pulls away. Like a dick.

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing.

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out.

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him.

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake.

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him.

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie.

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy!

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you.

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges.

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!”

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers.

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night.

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees.

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain.

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms.

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe.

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.”

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel.

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air.

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin.

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.”

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids.

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises.

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake.

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you.

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree.

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real.

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which.

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.”

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever.

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.”

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?”

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side.

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood.

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together.

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway.

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you.

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol.

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you.

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side.

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad.

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away.

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!”

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth.

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?”

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar.

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.”

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing.

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart.

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong.

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply.

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame.

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear.

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one.

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely.

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

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thot-of-khonshu · 12 days

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Friendship Defined (Joel Miller x f! reader)

Summary: You and Joel have been friends with benefits for months. The blurred lines have you questioning what exactly makes a friend just a friend?

Warnings: 18+. MDNI. Mentions of sex (oral, p in v), mention of periods, fwb! Joel, non outbreak AU, implied age gap, fluff

Word Count:~800

Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely @swiftiscruff ( @swiftispunk & @joelscruff ) for coming up with this idea.

This one shot is dedicated to all of you.

I’ve been in this fandom for a few years now and as much as I’ve wanted to I still have trouble putting myself out there to make friends in the fandom. I usually just put out my stories and go about my day.

Well I want that to change!

This was such a beautiful idea and such a great reminder of how wonderful fandom can be. To be able to connect with so many talented people is such a gift and I want to try to get to know you guys more. This is my official post to put myself out there - so if anyone wants to come into my asks or DMs or message me on Discord please do!! I wanna be your friend lol!!

To celebrate this momentous weekend of friendship and fandom, I’ve created a Joel one shot all about friendship. With benefits lol. Enjoy!!

Joel would always introduce you as his friend.

Friend being a blanket term but it did seem to fit into your large, intricate clusterfuck of whatever you were.

Sure, in the literal sense you were friends. Ever since you met Joel through his little brother Tommy, a group of you would go out every Friday to the same bar for a beer and darts.

Then when Tommy met Maria and everyone else in your group started to couple up, you had more time to spend together.

It started off with friendly dart competitions that lasted a bit too long. Shots that would start to last until closing time. A shared Uber to one house because “it’ll save money”.

Cut to Joel eating you out on your kitchen counter. And getting fucked in the shower that next morning. And then suddenly several times a week you’re trying to plan strategic ways on how to exit at different times so it didn’t seem suspicious. It didn’t matter, though. Tommy knew and would take the moment Joel left to fuck with him about it.

So if everyone else knew, why didn’t either of you know what this was? You didn’t want to bring it up because the idea of him getting freaked out and ending things made your chest tight.

You were so in your head about this arrangement that one night after leaving Joel’s house after watching and the Fast and the Furious and then having the ride of your life on his dick afterwards, you came home and immediately opened your laptop to do some soul and site searching.

Is this still technically a friendship at least according to Merriam-Webster terms?

friendship

noun. friend· ship ˈfren(d)-ˌship

1: the state of being friends

….Google search number two:

friend

noun. ˈfrend

plural friends

1: one attached to another by affection or esteem

There are several other definitions for the word friend.

2: One who is not hostile.

Joel was never hostile with you. He was adorably patient when you took too long to decide what you wanted when you went out to dinner. He never hesitated to say sure when you wanted to try what was on his plate.

The hardest he’s ever pressed onto you was when your ex boyfriend showed up at the bar one night. Once he made a beeline to talk to you, Joel’s massive hand snaked around your waist to pull you into him so he could know any talk with you tonight was off limits. You were off limits.

The idea of Joel being so possessive made you so wet that you blew him in the alley that night.

3: one that favors or promotes something (such as a charity)

It takes you back to one of the first times you had slept with him. You were sprawled across his bed as he peeled your leggings from your body. You spread open for him as he pushed your thong aside to fit his thick finger into your hole.

He curved his finger into you and came closer, feeling his breath on your clit.

Instinctively you blurted out, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

Joel looked up at you with a serious expression.

“None of my other exes really liked to do this.”

Without hesitation, Joel settled between your thighs again.

“Well then I guess I'm going to be your new favorite.” And with that, he slid his finger back inside you, this time with more intent. You let out a moan as he teased your clit with his finger, reminding you of why he was indeed your favorite.

4: a favored companion

You think about the late nights picking up french fries at McDonalds when you convince Joel out of the house past his bedtime on Saturday nights. You remember the nights you had your period and he still wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner; your cramps dulling as he soothed you on the couch.

You think of how nice it is to just be with him. Laying naked and vulnerable, hearing things he hasn’t even told Tommy.

You go back to Google.

“What is the definition of a romantic relationship?” you type, the clacking of your keys sounding louder than ever.

Before you can press enter, your phone rings loudly and startles you. It’s Joel. You pick up.

“Hey. Just checkin’ in.” He says. “You left kinda quick so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” You feel your heart swell inside your chest. You can’t stop grinning. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh…” You can see the crease form in his forehead when saying that. “You didn’t have to go or nothin’, I just didn’t know if you were sick.”

“You’re my best friend.” You tell him, unaffected at how random that must seem for Joel to hear. “You know that, right?”

But instead of being suspicious, Joel's voice softens. You’ve only heard this voice in passing, with Sarah on the other end.

“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too.”

You didn't realize how much that simple affirmation meant to you until you heard it.

There was a pause on the other end, a moment of shared unspoken understanding, a thick air of tension and want, and then you both spoke at once.

"Would you like to come back over?"

"Hey, I was just about to ask if I could come back over," you blurted out, suddenly feeling a little bold. “Maybe spend the night?”

The two of you laughed together; you closed your eyes and envisioned the crinkle in his eyes. His soft brown eyes are on you as he shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell are you still doing at home?

“I wouldn’t want anything more.”

That’s what friends are for, right?

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prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 3 months

Note

Can I request an Lucifer Morningstar x fem reader??

This like came up in my mind recently and I’m going feral over it

So Reader is Adams third wife that he had begged again to god to make him another wife (this is way before the exterminators fight with the devils when reader was created) and with that god made reader to be his wife that is different from both lilith and Eve, when reader was visiting The garden of Eden, she met lucifer who was on his way to do a meeting with the angels about the populations or the updates(idk you can do something like that) and lucifer was strolling through Eden again like going through a flashback when it all happened until he met reader who was sitting down underneath that same tree where he met Eve

Lucifer found reader enchanting and alluring since she was more beautiful then his ex wife, and soon had an urge to seduce reader like he did to adams other ex wives as lucifer held an apple to reader to tempt her with free will, reader was hesitant and tempted but asked lucifer “what did you do to make adams ex wives to leave him for you?” (She wasn’t told how adams ex wives fucked lucifer but she does know about the free will but what happened to Eve since she knew about the whole story about lucifer and lilith) it made lucifer smirk and told reader “would you like to know?”

(I’m sorry but like I’ve been thinking so much about it🤭🤭🤭)

Third times a charm (Lucifer Morningstar x Adam’s wife! Reader)

Legit love this idea, this a smut for obvi reasons

At this point, Adam just needs to stop because no one wants him also this takes place like 2 year-ish after Lilith left Lucifer

This is not proofread!!!

Also I’m not christen so I don’t know everything about Christianity. So I’m going off of Hazbin hotel and how I interpret the things I do know from the Bible

Reader is female in this

Warnings: smut, P n V sex, oral sex (reader reserving), reader is a virgin (Adam doesn’t get pussy) , dom! Lucifer, outside/public sex, Y/N is suggested to have big thighs, Lucifer comforting reader, Mentions of blood

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV

After Lilith and Eve both falling for Lucifer’s tricks, Adam begged for a new wife. God obliged gave them one more, he named her Y/N, they had H/C hair and the most beautiful E/C eyes. They were a few form of beauty never seem before, oftenly considered the ‘beautiful one’ of Adams wives by the head angels. You lived with Adam, but due to Adam off doing heavens know what, she spent most of her time in the place it all started…the garden of Eden.

Y/N was told about how Lucifer ‘bewitched’ Lilith and eve to betray God and Adam and the heavens itself, but was never really known why they did, why did they choose Lucifer? It was a question they asked herself quite often.

On one summers day while Adam was off doing what Y/N could only assume to be ‘work’, she was once again in the garden. Y/N couldn’t explain why they like the garden so much but they felt so drawn to it. On this day, Y/N wasn’t the only one in the garden. This was one of the days the Angels were meeting with the king of hell himself, Lucifer.

Lucifer had to attend another meeting due to the population still not going down as much as the Angels hoped. He truly didn’t want to attend such a meeting, but he had to. To avoid the meeting as long as possible he decided to take a walk in the a Garden of Eden, this garden help a special place in Lucifer’s mind, where he met he ex wife Lilith and where evil was created when Eve eating the fruit of wisdom.

Today he chose to visit that very tree, the large tree where everything happened. As the walked through the greenery he way the opening where the tree sat but there was something else, someone else. They’re laid a woman lying in the shade of under the large apple tree wearing a white angelic bread, her beautiful H/L H/C they laid against the bed of grass. Her facial features were gorgeous, things he’s never seen before. She had E/C eyes. Everything about her was enchanting, as he was admiring her the noticed something on her finger, a gold wedding band with a large “A” ingrained on it…she was Adam’s wife.

Lucifer was surprised by the knowledge, when had Adam gotten a new wife? God actually gave him another after what happened to the last two? Lucifer remembering the every tree she lied under. Lucifer idea came to his head, why not keep up the streak of stealing away Adams wife? Lucifer moved swiftly over to the tree taking one of the hanging apples before appearing infront of the woman.

Though Y/N eyes were closed enjoyed the sounds of the garden, they felt an unfamiliar presence around her. She shot her eyes E/C open to see a pale man with blonde hair, we wore a white suit with red detailing along with the snake along his hat,then they notice this hand, he was holding a apple.

Y/N nearly shot up from her previous position, she knew who this was…it was Lucifer. She’s hear stories of the fallen angel, but has never seen his face before but she knew it was him. “Hello my dear.” He said with a smile was he stepped closer to her. She didn’t looked scared more intrigued than anything, which he wasn’t expecting considering the stories told of him by the angels. “Did God not give you a voice dear?” He asked seeming more of a joke. “No,” she said to this, her eyes not leaving his face, “I have one..”

He leaned down get on one knee infront of her, “then why don’t you use it? You could be free…” his clawed hand that held the red apple extend to her, the red apple begging to be taken. She stared at the apple debating it for a moment before her eyes moved back to his, “I have a question for you..” she asked him, she seemed so unmoved by the chance at free will. It caught him a little off guard, “she is truly different..” the thought to himself. “Ask away Dove? What on your mind?” He ask the woman curious what question could be more important then free will.

“What did you do to make Adam’s first to wives to leave him for you?” She asked him, curious

Lucifer smug smile feel into a shocking look, did she not know about what happened? Is Heaven really hiding this from her? Then it hit Lucifer, what a better way to teach then show her. He let the apple drop to the ground as he crawled over to her, moving between her legs, he moves one of his under her chin tilting it to him.

“Would you like to know? I could show you..” he said to her in a low voice.

She looked at him a little shocked, what was this feeling? Y/N had never help this before, she felt hot. “Yes..” she said to him, he smile widen as he lead his face in more. “Are you sure..?” He asked again, in an almost teasing way. Y/N nodded their head, “I am…show me..” and with those words, Lucifer kissed them deep.

It caught Y/N off guard but quickly kissed back, wrapping their arms around this neck pulling him closer Lucifer was quick to move his free arm around your waist and pulled you in. Making her body press against his. The feeling her body pressed again his, Y/N couldn’t help but moan at this foreign feeling growing in her. Lucifer heard her moan, it was like a siren call to him. He took the hand that was on her cheek and moved it down under her dress, brushing his fingers over her clothed pussy.

The feeling of his actions made Y/N jump at the feeling, she’s never felt this, it sent an aching feeling into her cover, it felt as if her body was begging for more. Lucifer pulled away from the kiss, a smile string of saliva connecting them. Her face was flushed, a perfect shade of red. Lucifer pressed against her pussy again feeling a wet pool form, almost like on command she let out another moan, her nail’s scratching the nape of his neck.

Lucifer smiled at her reaction, before moving down. “Let me help you with this…” he said in a low voice full of lust, his voice alone enchanting her. Lucifer spread her legs wider and lifted her dress up, revealing her stomach and clothed pussy. Y/N gasp at the action, a little embarrassed and how relieved she is. Lucifer kissed her stomach as they removed their panties, revealing their soaking wet cunt. Y/N watched him as he kissed down her stomach before pulling away, his eyes moving up to look at hers before back to her pussy.

Lucifer moved her thighs onto his shoulder, knocking off his hat, allowing him full access into to her, before he could react to her lower body being lifted up, Lucifer licked her wet folds. Y/N gasp letting out a moan at the feeling of this long tongue lick her. Lucifer let out a groan, she was he best thing he’s ever tasted, he was quick to move in closer, his mouth pressed against her wet cunt, eating her out like it was his last meal. Y/N couldn’t help but become a moaning mess quickly, the feeling was so foreign but it was the best feeling she’d felt her whole life, she wanted, no, she needed more.

Her hand reaching down and tangled her finger in his blonde hair, pushing his head in. It caught him off guard but he loved seeing her so eager. Lucifer happily fulfilled her wish for move , he slipped his tongue in her as he continued to eat. Y/N felt a pit form inside her, she needed it to go away, he needed to make it go away. “Fuck..please!” Y/N moaned out louder. Lucifer could tell she was close by the feeling of her tightening around his long tongue, he groan at the feeling, feeling his pants tighten up. His groans send a vibration into her.

Y/N clinched her thighs around his head, moaning as the vibration. She felt like she was about to release something that she didn’t even know of. After a few more swift motions of Lucifer, Y/N felt the pit release, she let out a loud moan, she attempted to muffle it out by covering her mouth. Lucifer moaned and slurped up all her juices, it was the perfect taste.

Y/N felt like she was floating, this feeling was so knew but she never wanted it to stop. After he sucked her dry, Lucifer pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. When Lucifer go back onto his knees, he stayed between her now shaking legs, he looked at her flushed face, her eyes clouded with the new pleasure. To him she looked perfectly, he was quick to kiss her deep, yet every passionately. Y/N was quick to kiss back softly playing with his hair. While they kissed, Lucifer was quick to undo this belt. Before he could finish undoing his pants, he pulled away hovering over her.

“Are you ready..?” Lucifer asked softly. Y/N nodded their head eagerly, “Please…I need this..” she said through heavy breaths. Lucifer smiled as he undid his pants pulling them down. His cock springing to life. Y/N gasp softly, mesmerized. Lucifer moved in closer in, when he did Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt him pressing his tip against her entrance, she shivered at the feeling.

After a moment Lucifer slowly entered her stretching her out. She gasped loudly moaning, she felt the sting of him stretching her out. She felt tears peak the corners of her eyes. Noticing this Lucifer stayed still, moving his face down to place butterfly kisses on her face, moving his hand to her cheek holding her kissing away her tears. “It’s ok dove..” he whispered in her ear and he continued his assault of kisses. “Just tell me when to continue, ok..?” He said softly to her, she nodded her head and held him close as he continued to kiss her face, wishing sweet nothing in Y/N’s ear.

After a few minutes, she whispered to him “you can continue..” she said quietly. Lucifer nodded his head as he continued to push in, she whinned a little but it wasn’t as painful as before. Soon he was all the way in, all 8 inches. He was still for a moment looking into Y/N eyes, waiting for her permission to move, Y/N nodded. With the affirming nod of approval, Lucifer pulled nearly all the way our all the way out and slammed back in, making Y/N throw her head pack and moan loudly. It was a perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

Lucifer couldn’t help but moan himself, Y/N was so tight it was a knee feeling to him. He loved him. As he slowly continued his thrust, Y/N could held but moan into Lucifer’s neck. This feeling was new to Y/N and they didn’t want it to end. “Please!” Y/N moaned out to him between this thrust, “more please..” Lucifer smiled at his words as he sped up with his thrust. “Fuck..” Lucifer moaned out as he held her tight. There body’s pressed against each other, Y/N nails were dug into his back nearly tearing his suit jacket, Y/N could feel the pit reforming in her as a fast past, Lucifer could feel it too.

Lucifer could feel him release building up, and it was only getting closer as he felt her squeeze around him. He could only let out groans as he digs his nails through her dress, piecing her skin, drawing blood. Y/N’s head was thrown back they felt like they were about to release. “Please!!” Y/N’s nearly screamed out to him. Lucifer smiled obeying her orders, speeding up for her and his own release. Her blood began to slowly stain her white dress, after a few more thrust Y/N let out a moan as they came again, coating his cock with them. Her body was shaking as he continued to thrust. Feeling the tight wetness, he came into her, painting her wall white. After he was done he clasped onto her, both panting heavily.

Y/N was a shaking mess, Arms wrapped around him tight, almost as if she let go they’d both disappear. “Are you already little dove..?” He asked soft to her. His cock still buried inside her still. “I feel great..” she said softly, nuzzling into him. “Good..” he said quietly kissing her cheek, “now you know why Adams first two wives left him..” Y/N looked at him her E/C filled with wonder and questions. “What does that mean for me.” Lucifer let out a small laugh. “That means your mine now sweetheart..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight @pooplyface1423 @purplethree @dog55teeth

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar #fanfic #hazbin hotel smut

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csuitebitches · 5 months

Text

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market.

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc.

#c suite #powerful woman #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #getting your life together #balance #to do #to do list

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rreids · 8 days

Note

Hey love I have an ask bc I’ve been feeling super depressed lately and I haven’t wanted to get out of bed lol can you do a one shot when spencer leaves for the week on a case and comes home to the house a mess and the reader laying in bed crying and he makes her shower and eat and cuddles her

oh my love <3 i hope you are feeling a little better. please make yourself a nice warm drink and try to spend some time outside or doing something outside of bed, even if it's just five minutes <3 it's worth it, i promise — someone who also bed rots often

LITTLE BY LITTLE • S. REID X READER

hurt/comfort; reader in a depressive episode; mentions of emotional eating and food; perfect bf spencer; nonsexual nudity and intimacy; kisses; pet names; fluff; ~1k

Spencer being gone was normal, a common occurrence. You didn’t normally struggle when he was gone, but with a mix of bad days at work and him being gone, you could barely bring yourself to eat.

You liked to keep the house clean while he was gone so he’d have one less stressful thing to come back to. This time, it was a mess, clothes and food packaging left around. You’d raided the sweets stash, and made a mental note to replace his chocolate bars before he realized.

“Honey?” Spencer’s voice calls, and you blink away the sting of tears. You weren’t hydrated enough for more to roll down your cheeks, but you didn’t want to worry him. With a swipe of your (his) sweater sleeve, you work on rubbing away tear stains as he comes into the bedroom, tilting his head at the wrappers and mess on the nightstand. “You okay?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re home early,”

“It ended well,” he tells you, gathering the trash left sitting. He doesn’t even comment that his nice chocolate bars were clearly eaten. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few days, maybe?”

“Why didn’t you call?” He sighs. He sounds exasperated, but you know he’s not upset at you as he rubs a soothing hand over your cheek and lets you lean into him.

“I didn’t wanna worry you,” you mumble, voice muffled into his palm. You press a kiss to it, smiling softly when his fingers twitch at the ticklish sensation. “‘S okay.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, you know he disagrees. “Find some nice pajamas for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He comes back after throwing out the trash. “I put some water on. Tea or hot cocoa?”

“Tea,” you mumble, rubbing your throat.

“With honey. Don’t even try to tell me not to add it.” Spencer grabs the pajamas you scrounged up. “I’ll fluff these in the dryer, too. C’mon, gorgeous,”

He helps you stand and lets you curl into his side as he walks you into the bathroom and helps you undress, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he tugs the sweater off. You shiver at how cold the air is, and he reaches behind you to turn the water on and let it start to warm.

Spencer carefully brushes your hair out of your face with his fingers, frowning when you pull away a little. He doesn’t comment on it, just studying your face with his intent stare.

“Stop looking at me,” you mumble.

“Just trying to see if you’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispers, ghosting a kiss over your cheek. “You’ll tell me about it after. Do you want me to help you wash up?”

You pause. “Dunno.”

Spencer chuckles. “Ok, well, I’m gonna go start fluffing your clothes and put water in the kettle. Let me know when I get back?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as his movement creates a draft.

When he peeks back in, you’re staring at the water.

“You have to get in, honey,” he reminds you, voice sweet. It makes you feel like crying.

“I know. I think I’m okay.”

Spencer pauses as his mind processes what you’re responding to. “Okay. Take as long as you need. I’ll be waiting in the living room,”

The water is nice — heated exactly where you like it to be —, and you take much longer than normal letting it run over corded muscles and wash away your sadness as you get clean. It’s nice, and you know you’ll feel better when you get out. Part of you hates that, because it just makes another thing Spencer is right about (and he’s always right about things, so you pride yourself on the times you beat him).

When you finally step out and towel dry, you find your warm clothes on the counter. He must’ve brought them in while you were distracted.

Finally dressed in clean clothes, you drop the dirty ones in the hamper and pad out to the living room.

Spencer is in comfortable clothes — a Washington DC hoodie, sweatpants, fluffy and mismatched socks — and his hair is no longer styled. That’s the first thing you notice. Then you notice the tea, the bowl of perfectly cut-up fruit, and the spread of cheese, crackers, and lunch meat.

“Figured you wouldn’t want a full meal,” he tells you, patting his thigh. You walk over and settle on him gently, squeaking in surprise when he pulls you into him more tightly and presses kisses on your face until you squirm from the contact, giggling. “C’mon, open,”

He taps the strawberry piece to your lips and you roll your eyes as you eat it.

“I love you, you know that?”

“‘Course I do, Spence,” you tell him, voice soft and scratchy.

“Then tell me. Please? Me not knowing you’re upset hurts more than being unable to be here for you. I can at least call you and leave voicemails or talk you through stuff.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping. “But you’re busy and dealing with hard stuff already.”

“And I will always choose to deal,” he says the word like it’s poisonous, “with what you are struggling with first. I signed up to be your number one supporter. Always,”

He hands you your tea and waits for you to finish drinking before he takes it and sets it back down. He holds your hands, rubbing his thumb over the back.

“Okay? Tell me.”

“Okay.”

Spencer smiles and relaxes, kissing you more gently. “Now eat up, sweetheart. It’s all for you.”

You whine at that, and he cuts you off with a stern look.

“My chocolate bars are not proper sustenance for an adult of your—”

“Spencer.” You mumble, picking up a grape. “Shut up. I’ll eat.”

He smiles, pleased, and leans his head on your shoulder. It should be weird, him watching you eat, but it fills you with warmth and happiness as he traces aimless shapes on your thigh and makes sure you’re okay.

title is bc: little by little you will be okay. i know you will. we all will be.

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #requested

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christhopersturniolo · 2 months

Text

୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧

summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.

notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.

୨୧

My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.

Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.

And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.

Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.

Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.

Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.

Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.

After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)

Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.

The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.

The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.

On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.

Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.

FLASHBACK

I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.

As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.

I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.

He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.

“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.

Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.

"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."

“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.

As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.

I never went back to those lockers again.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.

The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.

The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.

As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.

Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.

The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.

Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone

Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.

“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.

My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"

The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.

I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.

Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,

Cameron.

"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.

My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."

Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way

I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.

Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.

"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.

He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.

Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”

The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”

“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”

Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.

Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”

He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.

Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.

"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”

“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.

“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”

Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”

“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.

Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.

I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.

As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.

Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.

“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.

I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”

Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.

He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."

Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.

I kiss his head “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers quietly.

୨୧

hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.

also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sam and colby #christhopersturniolo

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

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Soft Dami is my favorite, especially when he has a partner or friemd and hides it from his family.

This became a ‘Batfamily trying who Damian is hiding from them.’ Type fic.

Damian hates sharing. Absolutely loathes it.

He already bore a shared moniker with his older siblings who -for the most part- have moved on to bigger and better things, creating their own versions of justice as vigilantes, leading teams of their own.

He shared a lot with his siblings and has come to hate the phrase sharing is caring, to Damian it was nothing more then a phrase that was so overused and abused by the likes of Dick and Jason, so much so to the point that the word had lost it’s dictionary meaning.

So when he entered in a relationship with you, Damian vowed to keep your name out of his mouth within the presence of his family. Which at first was extremely hard as all poor Damian could think about was you and how blessed he was that you’ve given him a chance; He had to bite down on his tongue a most of the time whenever he was asked if there was anyone at school that he had taken a liking towards.

Of course he has someone he’s taken a likening to, you. However he couldn’t let himself falter so easily and only scoffed at the question as though it was beneath him, before then reminding everyone at the table that he was only at school for academics and honing his artist skills, nobody in that rathole of a school could ever hold his attention for longer then five minutes.

Luckily his family believed this excuse and let the dropped the topic not long after, much to his relief in knowing that he was spared another day from ever having to share the one person in his life -outside of his family- that he cared deeply for.

However luck tends to run out and the glaring fact that his family was sharp as knives- especially Tim- at detective stuff, so much so that in retrospect Damian knew he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was the day his siblings eventually figured out everything…

‘He’s…smiling.’ Dick looked back at Jason, Tim, Duke and Steph before looking back at Damian who was subtly smiling down at his phone. ‘Oh my god he’s actually smiling.’ Dick repeats as Jason shoves him out of the way to get a better look.

‘He’s smiling alright, but what about.’ Jason said.

‘Or who.’ Steph piped up and the others looked at her.

‘Wanna elaborate on that Steph?’ Jason asked, raising his brow and she shrugged. ‘I’ve been noticing recently how Damian’s been more on his phone than he’s ever been since getting one.’ She begins. ‘He never engages in the group chat, not once but here he is, using his phone and smiling at whoever’s on the other side. Damian is actually talking to someone.’ She finishes, feeling happy at the fact that Damian had opened his heart to at least someone

‘Or he could be planning a murder.’ Tim said sarcastically and Steph playfully punches him in the arm. ‘But let’s go with the idea that he’s talking to someone for convenience sake.’ He adds on, rubbing his arm.

‘How do we prove it though?’ Duke pipes up, catching the other’s attention. ‘We’d have to somehow get Damian away from his phone long enough for us to check but the question is,’ Duke then looked at Jason, Steph, Tim and Dick, ‘who’s going to be the one to lure him out while the rest of us have a look?’

‘I think we should take a-‘ Dick was greeted with a face full everyone’s pointed fingers aimed in his direction like guns. ‘Vote.’ His face fell as his siblings gave him false sympathies before shoving him into the library with Damian and slamming the door behind him. Hard.

‘What do you want Grayson.’ Damian said, the smile upon his face now gone the moment he realised that he was no longer alone to freely text you, at least not without someone looking over his shoulder.

‘Oh hi Damian.’ Dick greets as he moves towards him, taking note of how he kept his phone close to his chest, almost as if he was hiding something he didn’t want anyone else to see. ‘I overheard Bruce this morning saying that he had something to talk to you about, something about implementing harder training modules for you?’ Damian practically perked up at this and Dick found his opening and honed in on it by shrugging his shoulders. ‘I’m not entirely certain that’s the case, so I’d double check with Bruce if I were you.’

Damian looked at his sibling for a long period of time and sighed. ‘Fine, I shall check in with father but Grayson I swear to god if this is a lie…’

Dick crossed his heart. ‘Scouts honour.’

‘Tt.’ Was all Damian uttered before leaving the room, not realising that he had left his phone on the plush couch in the library.

Bingo dick thought as Jason popped his head in through the doorway. ‘Is little Robin gone?’

‘Little Robin is gone.’ Dick confirmed and watched as Jason’s head disappeared as he, Steph, Tim and Duke came into the room, closing the door for extra measure in the instance Damian realised his fault and comes running back with his sword to skewer them all.

‘Now,’ Stephanie rubs her hands together maniacally, ‘let’s see who our Damian has been talking to.’ She then picks up the phone, expecting it to be locked but to her surprise, it wasn’t, she gasps.

‘What? What is it?’ Tim asked, trying to get a look at the phone screen.

‘He’s left his phone unlocked. Rookie mistake.’ She replied and Dick, Tim, Jason and Duke only stared at her, unamused.

‘Just…tell us who he’s been texting so we can put this to rest.’ Duke said as the others agreed, the anticipation was killing them at this point, but so would Damian if he comes back just when they were so close to discovering the truth.

‘Okay, okay sheesh, I’ll look.’ Steph said and looked away from her brothers and back down at the screen, looking intently before her face became one of confusion as he read the contact name aloud. ‘My treasure.’

Dick blinked. ‘What?’

‘Give it here.’ Jason snatched the phone from Stephanie and it wasn’t long for his face to be one of confusion as he looked towards his other siblings, holding up the phone. ‘The contact name is literally just my treasure. No photos of them, nothing.’ He tells them as Tim snatched the phone from him.

‘I could find us a name in under five minutes maximum but-‘

‘What’re you doing with my phone, Drake?’

Tim, Duke, Steph, Jason and Dick froze upon hearing Damian’s voice, followed by the unsheathing of a sword.

‘Should we run now or?’ Dick asked.

‘Running sounds good.’ Duke agreed.

‘Running sounds great.’ Steph joined in.

‘And it has beneficial effects on the body.’ Tim chimed.

‘Running it is by unanimous vote.’ Jason then said as all of them sprinted for their lives as Damian chased them out of the library, sword in hand, and eyes full of fury and other conflicting emotions.

He knew he made the right choice in changing your contact name on everything, but knew if they had been given just a bit more time and looked deep into his photo album, they would’ve saw a beautiful portrait of you that he drew a while back that would’ve gave everything away.

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