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#which always fucks me up a little bit. this is the worst thing about him bar none.
dr3amofagame · 1 day
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thinking about c!dream earlier on in the server just makes me sad man. like, c!dream has never been a perfect character. he's always been flawed, always been a bit of an asshole, always had control issues. but also he knew that. he tried to work on that. he and tommy were friends, despite being flawed people with their own issues that would bump into conflicts because of the ways that they differed. c!dream tried, god, he tried; he wasn't even on the server, when the drug van happened, and walked into a place with someone who was practically a stranger to him building a wall and calling for war and having turned half the people dream knew against him, apparently, for no reason that he could've known at the time, and he had looked straight at tommy and tubbo and asked if that was what they really wanted when wilbur told them that there was no such thing as dual citizenship. he tells tommy when he has to sell a disc for spirit's leather even though tommy had surrendered the discs to him at the end of the revolution because he knows it'll matter to him. he and tommy truce, multiple times, and c!dream gets tangled into conflicts that literally don't involve him repeatedly and gets targeted Because He's Dream repeatedly and he plays along with that trivia contest and he gives gifts to fundy and tommy after terrorizing them a little for fun and he plays along with the dreamon thing and he keeps getting pulled into fights that weren't his but tries to make them a little more fair when they get him involved. he fucks around with tommy and they have fun, they're friends, and when he and wilbur look like they're in danger dream is one of the first to find them and lend them real, practical, valuable aid. he calls himself "Big D" in that book and he tells the man that wrote him as a tyrant that he doesn't want to be a villain in the story anymore. he asks tommy if he's okay, and watches that kid's back when he walks alone and unarmed into manberg, and fights with him at the battle of the lake and all of that is thrown back in his face as being a lie. half the intial community structures that exist were built by him; the community house, the nether portal and hub, the prime path. during a time where every other piece of leverage got burned or killed (rip the casualties of the pet war), dream was kind of known for being one that could be fairly traded with, that would minimize permanent damage. the kills in the final control room were originally to strip lmanburg of their gear, which he had kept in a chest so it could be returned to them after the war.
like no c!dream isn't perfect at the beginning of the server. yes he's kind of a jerk sometimes, kind of an asshole sometimes, kind of neurotic most of the time. but god dammit like c!dream does try to mitigate the worst of his control issues, when they flare up early on; the initial disc war ends with tommy getting his discs back as well as a stack of diamonds, in exchange for a netherite chestplate. he's a flawed character and he's still someone pretty friendly on the whole to most of the server, he's also kind of just known for being a little weird. he gives gifts randomly. he fixed creeper holes, and houses, and went along with bits. like whatever im a c!drolo c!dream woobifier and i admit it lol but for as much evil as he ends up doing, pretty damn consistently early on, he's . friendly? kind? funny? helpful? their neighbor. their friend. c!dream isn't just some stranger that flew off the handle; he's someone they knew and lived with who had his actions taken in bad faith because the goddamn story said so and kept fucking trying anyway until he believed the lie too. like he was just a guy!! a guy they knew and lived with!!! like my god
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yunhoszn · 10 hours
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to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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64 notes · View notes
egophiliac · 10 months
Note
Have you heard of the "Crowley is Malleus' dad" theory going around? Where Prince Levan (or whatever his name is) didn't actually die and just went out to get some milk and is now known as Dire Crowley, the silly man? The implications of that theory is absolutely hilarious when you think about it
hold on, we can figure this out, we just need LISTS
PROS THAT CROWLEY IS SECRETLY REVAAN/LEVAN/LAVERNE/WHATEVER:
unspecified fae of some kind, with similar coloring to Mal
the animal masks are apparently a Briar Valley thing
has some kind of big blackmailable secret that was alluded to in episode 4, and then as far as I know never brought up again
(unless this was just Azul bullshitting, which is extremely possible)
based on Diablo, which...maybe means something?
has canonically worn Dad Shorts
CONS:
(gestures to Crowley's entire personality)
NO LISTEN Revaan was the guy they sent off on diplomatic missions and to take care of delicate political situations, and...look, I love this dweeb, but would you trust Crowley to be in charge of negotiating your war treaties
despite my brain insisting on reading his name as "Raven", Revaan's title does imply that he was also a dragon (or super into longan berries, I'm not ruling that out)
currently unclear why Lilia "my closest friend Revaan...he is no longer with us...I used to make fun of him for being kind of a priss about eating jerky..." Vanrouge has somehow not noticed or said anything
Malleus' Aloof Anime ~Aristocrat~ vibe had to come from somewhere, and by all accounts it was NOT his mom's side of the family
???:
turns into a bird in the opening, I don't know if that means anything but it's kinda cool, I guess
all that aside, if Malleus and Yuu are any indication, then the Draconias have...questionable taste in their social choices. so anything is possible!
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.
i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.
what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.
so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.
and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.
and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.
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0097linersb · 7 months
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I See Red (m)
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ONE SHOT
Pairings: San x Reader
Genre: Smut (basically pwp)
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: Jealousy, dom!San , he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 
A/N: this was originally an nct jeno's fic but I thought it matched San so well so here u go
Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3
You didn’t know what finally set San off.  
Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone - and in minimal clothing too.
You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.
It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.
So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.
But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Wooyoung (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Seonghwa to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mingi at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Yunho’s shirts - but he was San, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.
It didn’t help when Wooyoung and Mingi asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Mingi playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Wooyoung teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset San and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out - which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for a bit longer than you actually did.
Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Jung Yunho pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.
Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about San’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.
Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Yunho, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”
Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”
You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”
San simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”
“I said- Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”
You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Yunho behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when San lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.
As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.
“San, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”
Damn.
You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and San was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 
Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.
“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”
“Yeah.”
He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”
You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.
“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.
“No.”
“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.
“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.
“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.
Ok, San was mad mad.
His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”
You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. San simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.
Oh, boy.
You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”
And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. San has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant sometimes, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”
“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.
San slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”
You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?
You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and San caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.
It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”
You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.
“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”
He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.
Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”
You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “San, I’m-”
“Only talk when spoken to.”
This new side of San, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. San continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.
You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen San so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.
He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. San didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.
“San, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.
“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.
You cried out at his words.
The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”
Ouch.
You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at San’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn’t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. San simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.
You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. San stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mingi at Yeonjun’s.”
You could see the way San’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”
One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.
Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.
On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.
“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?
He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.
San smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”
You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.
And then it all stopped.
You whined loudly and San simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”
When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”
You groaned and dropped back down, San easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, San didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.
“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”
You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. San said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.
Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “San, I can’t-“
“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.
You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. San’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.
“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”
You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way San was drilling into you and he knew it.
“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.
The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap San gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“N-no.”
“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.
“Only you can fuck me.”
“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”
You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.
“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.
“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.
You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but San was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”
And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.
“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”
You shakily nodded. At this point, if San wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.
“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Seonghwa’s name or see you kissing Wooyoung again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.
“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.
“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”
Your body stiffened, “San, I really can’t-“
“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.
As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.
A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and San caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”
You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way San sped up his movements you figured you were.
“Hands,” San asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.
He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.
“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”
You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.
“Tell me,” San asked.
“A-apple.”
“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.
After another few minutes, San let out a loud moan with a broken whine and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.
You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”
You wanted to scream.
“San, please,” You sobbed.
“What? You’ve been teasing me with Mingi for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”
You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.
“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”
“You said we were almost over,” You wail.
“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”
You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and San’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.
“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.
You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at San in shock, halting your motions.
“Now do it again while looking at me.”
You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into San’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.
“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.
“Stop.”
The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, San. Please. I ca-can’t-“
San silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.
“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.
“Hey baby, it’s ok,” San comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”
He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.
“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.
You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.
“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.
He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. San carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.
“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”
You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and San was proud of you.
You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”
You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?
“Yeah, why?”
“Wooyoung and Mingi are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”
At that you laughed and just let yourself slide down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.
    ____________________________________
“Babe?” You called, watching the way San played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, his chest pressed against your back making your body vibrate, you continued, “What finally set you off?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“
“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Yunho called you baby, only I get to call you that.”
You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Choi San.”
Pt. 2 (a little extra, not a continuation or necessary for the plot)
3K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 3 months
Note
Hii exh!! I was wondering if u can do a request I have in mind, it’s basically CEO!Cold!Miguel x shy!Sweet!reader and Miguel literally needs stress relief but only reader can help him but as he fucks her in his office, he starts saying the most non sense shit about how he always stalks & admires her every time he sees her at work or home which has reader hella shocked and he also has a big breeding kink def :3 (this is my first time writing a request and I’m sorry if I didn’t explain right idk how to explain stuff😭)
I love me some cold!Miguel x shy!Reader shit. I'll write the hell out of this one, haha. Also, you are totally fine, thank you for allowing me to be the first one to receive your first request!!
So sorry that I'm writing this hella late tho. I had so many requests in December that it wasn't even funny. *cries*
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, overstimulation, rough sex
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There were a lot of things Miguel hated about himself. Most, if not all of them, involved his thoughts about you. Every time you entered his mind, Miguel had the dirtiest thoughts. The worst intensions and the most horrible habits.
It all started when you got hired in his company. Lyla was looking for some new accountants to ease with the heavy workload. You were nearly hiding amongst the new hires. It was cute to think how you tried to hide yourself behind the other women.
Miguel took notice of you since you had such a low and soft voice. You quietly handed in your work to Lyla and always quickly fled. Miguel's gaze was always on you. How someone so shy and sweet ended up in the palm of his devilish hands.
Miguel's thoughts of you grew more obsessive. He needed you. He wanted you. Thoughts of you sitting on his cock started to flood his mind at one point when you cried over a mistake in paperwork. Miguel could give you a reason to cry. He could easily fill you up, having you sob in pleasure.
Miguel nearly lost his common sense when you came in on Valentine's day with cookies for everyone in your department. It felt horrible and disgusting, but Miguel approached you with sexual thoughts.
"Ah, h-hello, sir," You said with a soft stutter, surprised to see the CEO in front of you. Miguel just smiled casually,
"(Y/N), how are you?" He asked, walking with you to the elevator.
You felt your cheeks fluster as you walked beside Miguel. Gripping against your skirt, you replied to him quietly. You could barely pay attention to anything aside from your racing heart. You gasped as Miguel chuckled towards you, allowing you inside the elevator first.
"How kind of you to bring treats for everyone," Miguel said, his tone a little harsh. You froze,
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir. I-I can um, bring you some!" You panicked. Miguel's gaze was heavy on you as he pressed the emergency stop button, "S-Sir-"
"What if I want something else?" He asked, his voice heavy against your ear. You felt your body tremble,
"L-Like?"
The next moment, you were against the elevator wall, moaning loudly as Miguel's cock bullied your pussy. Your skirt riled up as your breasts bounced out of your bra. Drool rolling down your lips as you moaned and whimpered Miguel's name.
Miguel's thick, meaty cock, making a home inside your tight velvet walls as he pounded you. Shaking as you felt yourself about to cum again, you cried out his name. Miguel held your hips closer to his as he slapped himself inside your pussy deeper, giving you a heavy load of his cum.
"Good girl," He whispered in your ear before fixing your panties and skirt. You bit your lower lip and trembled at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you,
"Y-Yes, sir," You panted softly. Miguel lifted you up, kissing you before having the elevator move again.
"When I call, come to my office, okay?"
"Y-Yes, s-sir."
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Miguel's obsession with you only grew once he finally had a taste. Miguel made you that you were single and stayed that way. Only he could have you for himself. Miguel wanted you to be his. The only way he saw that was to fuck a baby into you.
You were such the perfect woman for him. You came when called and showered Miguel with attention. Even when he wasn't drilling his dick into your needy pussy, you were there for him. Miguel loved how you were already mother material.
"Um, sir?" You whispered, entering his office. Miguel glanced up at you, smiling devilishly,
"(Y/N), you know what to call me when we're alone."
"S-Sorry, Miguel. T-There were um...p-people at your door." You hurried over to his desk, placing a small box down, "Um...I...I hope you don't mind, but I-I heard it was the anniversary of the company. S-So, congrats!" You chirped.
Miguel glanced at the box, then towards you. He patted his desk, watching you obey and sit on it. With a lick of his lips, Miguel reached for the box as you slowly undid your shirt. His eyes were always on you. You were still so shy despite taking his dick many times.
"How thoughtful," Miguel hummed, glancing at the small present you got him.
You smiled brightly as Miguel admired the gift. It wasn't long before he returned his attention to you. His body already pressing yours against his desk as he lifted your skirt up once more. His fingers stroking your panties, watching you shake under his touch.
"You also wore the new lingerie set I got you, such a good girl."
"Mhpm~"
You tried to hide your smile as you melted under Miguel's touch. It was embarrassing the first few times you let him fuck you, but you loved every second of it. It was like a dream come true. You cared about Miguel and despite his cold attitude, you wanted to believe that he cared about you too.
"Spread your legs for me,"
Doing as he said, you bit your lower lip from anticipation. Miguel liked to fuck you rough and deep. You always stumbled and struggled to walk after your quick sessions. You felt embarrassed if you were to admit that you wanted him to keep fucking you.
"So wet for me already, what a naughty girl," Miguel hummed as he held his cock, pressing it against your hole, "But you did give me a gift, so I should reward you, right?"
"R-Reward...or..p-punishment...I'll take both," You whispered. Miguel smirked as he pushed his cock into your wet pussy,
"That's riiiiiight. You're such a good girl that you'll take both," Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into you, "My slutty good girl likes my dick no matter how I give it, right?"
"T-That's r-right!" You moaned out, gripping onto Miguel's jacket as he pounded you.
"Such a slutty pussy. Listen to how loud it's sucking me in. Do you want everyone to hear you take my dick so loud?"
"N-No~" You cried out, covering your face. Miguel chuckled as he spread your legs wider, watching a white ring form against his dick,
"Did you cum already? So soon, now, now, I didn't give you permission."
"M-Miggy~ Mig~" You moaned, flinging your head back as he rubbed against your sweet spot.
"Making it easier for me to fuck a baby into you, right? That's what you want, huh?" Miguel chuckled as he fasten his pace, ready to give you his first load, "You always hurry home, making sure you have plenty of time to fuck yourself to me ravishing you."
"Mhm~!" You shivered as Miguel poured his cum into your womb.
"Always preparing yourself for my dick. Such a good girl, getting yourself ready whenever I call for you," Miguel grunted in your ear as he continued his rough thrusts.
"Ah~ M-Mig~ T-Too much!" You begged. Miguel raised a brow as he started to slow down his thrusts, rubbing your clit in resposne,
"Too much? But don't you love screaming my name at night when you're home and lonely?" Miguel said harshly. You were shaking, whining as Miguel went slower,
"I-I do!"
"Then what should you be saying?" Miguel asked. You arched your back, whining as you tried to suck Miguel back in,
"D-Don't stop! P-Please fill m-my pussy, Miggy!"
"And?"
"Ah~ d-destroy me~ M-Make me yours~ P-Please! Please!" You begged.
Miguel complied as he returned to his rough thrusts. You cried and moaned louder as you cam against his dick once more. Miguel watched in amusement as your juices covered his cock. Your sweet, fucked out expression just begging for more.
Your body was shaking from overstimulation as Miguel kept toying with your clit and breasts. You were a babbling mess as Miguel pressed you into mating position. His cum filling your womb once more before he kept going.
"Let me make you a mother, (Y/N). Don't you want my child?"
"Yesh~" You whimpered.
"Say it," Miguel demanded. You rolled your eyes back, nearly gasping at the feeling of Miguel feeling you up even more,
"G-Gimme...yer baby, Migs." You begged.
Like music to his ears, Miguel kept his word. He made sure to keep giving you his load of cum until his next meeting that is. By the time he had to leave, Miguel fixed you up and placed your on his couch he had in his office. You slept soundly until he returned.
"(Y/N), let's go." Miguel whispered, waking you from your slumber. You whimpered in response, shaking as he helped you up,
"Sir..."
"Now, now. You know what to call me," Miguel chuckled darkly as you stumbled behind him.
"Migueeeel," You whispered, reaching out for him.
Miguel held your waist, leading you to his limo. A smirk clearly on his face as he led you inside. Once the car started to move, Miguel placed you on his lap, having you sit on his cock while he took you to his place.
"We're not going to stop until I give you my child, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear. You held onto Miguel, trembling against his cock as you felt him push back the cum that was already inside you,
"Y-Yes, Miguel,"
Miguel chuckled lowly as he held you in place. His sweet little worker was doing such a good job. Miguel hated how much he loved the thought of tainting your precious body. Miguel hated how much he loved filling you with his cock.
"Oh, (Y/N), my pretty little dick accessory. Tell me, what are you?" Miguel asked with a cruel tone.
"Y-Your good girl," You moaned in response.
Miguel just smirked as he had you bounce on him. Your face growing more flustered as you came against his dick. Miguel just held your hips, leaning back and watching you be his good girl. His sweet girl who would do anything for him.
"I'm going to make you my wife, (Y/N). You're going to have my baby and be mine. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"Mhm~ Yes, Miggy!"
"That's my good girl."
Miguel's smirk never faded as he continued to ravish your body until you finally pregnant with his child. Miguel made you his personal assistant, allowing you to assist him with his every need. You were his sweet, precious good girl.
And he wasn't letting you go.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
794 notes · View notes
stairain · 7 months
Text
Desk Pet.
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Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, meanish reader, slight pet play (use of nickname puppy), grinding, leg humping, cumming in pants, begging. // Sorry for disappearing! It will happen again!
WC: 3.0K
You were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, intently staring at your computer screen as you tried to file through your work. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and you were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear your boyfriend Spencer walk into the room. 
He had been working late, so it was just past midnight. His footsteps were silent as he walked past you towards the bed. But he saw you were engrossed in your work and was going to sneak past you without disturbing you, but a thought popped into his mind and he suddenly couldn’t resist.
Biting your lip, you look down at the papers on the table and start to write something down, oblivious to the way Spencer was sneakily padding over to you with a clear intention in mind. You didn't know what he had planned, but you knew you couldn't afford any distractions right now.
He came up behind you and stood at your left-hand side. Your attention was still focused on the papers in front of you, much to his dismay. He leaned in slowly and kissed the right side of your neck, moving any pieces of hair that got in his way. He then nuzzled his face against your neck, his breathing becoming quick and shallow.
A shudder ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped before you processed what was happening as he snapped you out of your work-induced trance. After the initial shock, your eyebrows knit further in annoyance. You had a lot of things to get done, and he sure wasn't helping, and you knew he knew that.
"Not now, Spence. I'm really really busy, do you think you can give me a few hours?"
You try to sound as sweet as possible, because you knew for a fact that he could not wait a few more hours. He was impatient and needy at the worst times, now being one of them. You tried to ignore the warm feeling of his lips pressing tiny kisses against your neck.
“How about now? I just want a little taste..”
His lust blown eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you, with a slight playful smile. His voice sounded low and husky and his eyes burned with arousal. His words had a slight edge of desperation to them and he seemed to have no intention of giving up any time soon.
Breaking your gaze from your work you look at him just long enough that those wide eyes of his almost win you over, but you're quick to get back to writing as you shake your head. The desperation was evident in his voice, but you really had so much to do. You just couldn't afford to stop and give him what he wanted.
"Baby, I told you. I'm really busy, be a good boy and be patient for me, please?"
Spencer had looked like a hurt puppy when you turned away from him, he couldn’t believe you didn’t give in after his first time asking. His face twisted into a sad frown as you wrote on your stupid papers. He sighed again and tried harder to get your attention.
“Just a few minutes, please? Do I really have to wait until later?”
He asked pitifully. The puppy dog eyes and little frown that looked so adorable on his face were working overtime to get you to give in and fuck him already.
With a soft chuckle you look at him and shake your head once more. It was always hard to say no to him, and you rarely did, which is why he always took it so hard.
It was always so endearing how desperate he got when he didn't get what he wanted. You really did want to give him what he wanted, but he was far too spoiled already. He had to learn his lesson sooner or later.
"Spence, baby. Go lay down or read a book until I'm finished, I promise after I'm finished we can do whatever you want, okay? You'll be okay waiting for a bit."
He was determined to make you give in by any means necessary. The slacks he neglected to change out of were growing tighter by the second, heavy cock straining against the already uncomfortable material. He was so hard and needy and he didn’t know what he’d do if you kept this up. 
Spencer leaned in closer to you, and his lips pressed against the side of your neck again. This time he sucked and swirled his wet tongue against it, creating a tingling feeling that spread throughout your body. He looked down at you with a pleading look, trying to make you give into his pleading and begging sooner rather than later.
“Please.. I-I can’t wait an entire night to be with you. I just can’t..” He whined, looking at you pitifully. His tone was almost like he was throwing a tantrum, and at this point he might as well have been.
"Well you're going to have to, if I don't get this finished I'm fucked."
You didn't even spare him the glance, already knowing he was giving you those pouty lips and sad puppy eyes. Maybe it was because you really did need to focus, or because you knew if you looked at him for longer than a second you wouldn't be able to.
His bottom lip curled downwards into a pout and he let out a sigh, before slowly leaning back away from you. He took a step back but his eyes remained glued on you. 
“Okay. Fine. I’ll be a good boy..” He whined again, and pouted.
The dejected tone in his voice sent a pang through your heart, and you couldn't help the way you bit your lip in thought at how to proceed this. You knew you had to work, but you also knew how much he loved being around you. Sighing, you speak your compromise.
"Come here."
You called out in a firm voice, waiting for his presence behind you again.
He seemed a little surprised by your rather blunt word choice, but he obeyed nonetheless and came back over to stand behind you. Plus your tone of voice when you called for him turned him on in an instant. You still had your attention on your work and he knew that, but he liked the small progress he was making. 
“What can I do for you, ma’am?”
He was still in a slightly dejected tone, but he had a glimmer of hope. He craved to hear and feel the passion and desire he knew you had inside of you, and he needed it now. 
"Get on the ground."
You offhandedly said, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought. With your rolling office chair, you pushed yourself back a bit so he had more space. Space to sit underneath your desk like a good pet while you finish your work. He was so desperate for your attention, he'd take anything you offered.
The moment he heard those words his heart dropped into his stomach. He was so desperate to be with you, that even being right at your feet was more than he could ever ask for. He loved when you told him what to do and when to do something. He absolutely adored being ordered around.
Spencer was quick to obey you as he fell to his knees and crawled under the desk, waiting for more orders. His eyes burned with lust as he stared up at you. 
Your eyes flickered down at him once he was settled between your legs, and you widened them the littlest bit more, just to tease him. Without another word, you began typing on your computer, seemingly ignoring him after telling him to kneel at your feet like a dog.
To put it simply, he was desperate to be noticed. He wanted your attention so bad he’d do anything for it. He wanted you to acknowledge him, give him the littlest glance and he’d be happy.
Yet, he still knew better than to bother you right now while you were working after already burning that bridge. So he just looked up at you as you typed away on your computer and waited for a sign from you. His eyes locked with yours that were glued to the screen and he looked at you with a gaze full of adoration and worship. 
But you hadn't even been granted five minutes of peace and quiet before you felt him scooting closer towards you. He seemed to take a liking to your right leg, gravitating towards it and not so subtly opening his own legs to slot your calf between them. You stop typing for a moment, but you don't give the satisfaction of sight.
"Spencer."
Voice low and scolding, you warn him with just the call of his name. You thought you had given him more than enough attention, especially after he had been such a brat and refused to leave you alone. He's lucky you even let him sit under your desk, and now he was taking advantage of it.
His eyes darted forward when he heard your low, scolding voice, as if he had been caught. He looked at you with eyes that were positively spilling faux innocence, like he was expecting to be let off the hook.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
Spencer asked quietly, tilting his head to one side. His expression looked hopeful, like he was expecting more. A part of him was hoping to be rewarded for his behavior. He knew that wasn’t the case, though. You never rewarded misbehavior.
"Watch it."
You warned him once again. The tone in your voice was nothing short of intimidating and serious, and yet it did nothing but turn him on even more. You could feel his arousal throbbing against your ankle as he cozied himself up against your leg. You tried to ignore the weight and heat of his shaft pressing on you, but you were just a woman. 
He rested his chin on your knee, eyes wide and sparkling. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked a little confused as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong so as to deserve your warning. You told him to get on the ground, you never told him he couldn’t use your leg to get himself off. He had no idea he was taking advantage of your kindness, and yet had no problem doing it.
“Watch what?”
The brunet asked innocently. He kept his eyes glued to yours, waiting to see what you were going to do, as if challenging you. The longer he looked up at you, the hornier he got. Taking a deep inhale through your nose and rolling your eyes, you snap at him. 
"I've told you countless times, I need to get my work done. I can't give you what you want."
You reminded him once again, eyes darting everywhere on the desk and yet not one glance underneath it. You had hardly registered the way his hips were slowly rolling down against your leg and how his plush pink lips parted with a soft moan. He was grinding against you like a bitch in heat, barely listening to a word you said at this point. 
He let out a whimper as he pushed the pulsing head of his dick against you without a care in the world. Those wide, adorable brown eyes of his looked so desperate as he continued to look up and try his best as to not be caught by you. You couldn't see it, but you felt his arms hook around your leg for more leverage to hump against you pathetically. 
“I know, I know. I just–can’t wait. It has to be you..” 
Your breath hitched as your breath got caught in your throat. Something about those words he just whimpered out, they were winning you over. You purse your lips with a sigh and look down at the pathetic puppy at your feet. The movements of his hips and crotch had slowed down, but you could tell he was just itching to start again. The way his eyebrows were slightly upturned in the temptation of bliss, and the soft puffs of a whimper leaving his mouth. It was too much, and you were worn weak.
"You have five minutes, if you don't get off by then, you leave this room. Understood?"
Spencer smiled widely when he heard what you agreed to, and he crawled forward more to hug your leg closer to his chest. Pressing his forehead against your knee, he made small, soft whimpering noises as he got to work. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Five minutes.” 
He recited back to you as coherently as he could, already lost in the feeling of your unmoving ankle colliding so deliciously with his leaking cock. He was staining the insides of his boxers with sticky warm precum, and the wetness made his head spin and his breath shallow.
Turning your attention back to the work at hand and not the bitch at your feet, you shake your head and try your hardest to ignore the way he was practically humping your leg at this point. He was trying his hardest to keep quiet, but it obviously wasn't working. If Spencer was anything, it was vocal when he felt his best. You could feel every stutter of his hips and the way the rest of his body shook when he pressed his arousal harder against the bone of your calf. You'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't turning you on beyond belief, ignoring him as he used you for his own pleasure.
He pushed himself against your leg some more, but he didn’t push it too far for now. You knew he was about to burst, but he tried so hard to hold it in to enjoy it. He was breathing more heavily as instinctively kissed your knee. His sounds of need became louder with every hump.
“Oh, fuck.” 
He shuddered out, his voice still low and sultry and nothing short of needy. His whole body quivered with the amount of effort he was using to hold on. Not only would it be humiliating to have finished not even thirty seconds after you granted him permission to get himself off, but it would be an utter waste of time. 
As the seconds ticked by and approached his time limit, the push and pull of his lower body was almost maddening. He was rubbing himself so hard against you through his pants, and you secretly hoped he'd be able to finish in five minutes, considering how badly you wanted to see him make a mess without even having to touch him, let alone pay attention to him.
Spencer looked up at you, and he still had four minutes to go before his time was up. He was already out of control, and it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back.
He kept rubbing himself on you and making those low, desperate sounds. He was going to explode soon, and although unlikely, he hoped that you would stop working when those five minutes were up. He hoped you would finally pay attention to him. He was so needy and desperate. He wanted you now. 
While he was having the time of his life grinding against you, it just wasn’t what he really needed. He needed to be buried inside of you, pushing as deep as he possibly can as your cunt sucked him in even further. He needed to have you gushing around him as his elbows gave out on him as he tried his hardest to keep fucking you through his third orgasm. 
But he wasn’t going to get that, not tonight. 
Deciding to try and be nicer to your poor boy, you move one hand away from your work and card it through his soft curls. Running your nails against his scalp, back and forth, as if to imitate the cant of his hips. It almost served as a silent praise, 'what a good job you're doing' you could have said, but you had a demeanor to keep up and a report to write up.
He couldn’t help the pathetic groan that was punched out of him at your touch. You always knew where he loved being touched the most, and you knew it never felt as good when he did it himself. 
“Oh, fuck–please.”
The words left his mouth in a hiss as he pushed himself more against you. His jaw shook and his sounds grew in intensity as his body froze and he squeezed your leg impossibly tighter. It wasn't a moment later that you felt his entire body go rigid against you and his breath caught in his throat in what sounded like a choked sob.
The tightness of Spencer’s pants did nothing to mask his shame as he exploded into the poor stained fabric. His eyes instantly found your face and almost forced you to look right back at him as he finished. His mouth was quivering as pathetic whimpers and moans punched their way out of his throat. Thick spurts of warm cum made their way into his boxers. He had positively soaked the front of his pants, with a minute left to spare.
The moment he finished, he fell flat against you and his hand reached out and grabbed your thigh, clinging onto you like he was dying and you were his lifeline. His head was pressed firmly against your leg and he was still shaking and breathing heavily from his release.
His face was burning red from the strain he just went through. He felt as though he shot out his soul in the process of drenching himself. He had a stupid grin on his face as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.
“Can I stay now?” He asked in a desperate tone, with those same damned puppy dog eyes.
Rolling your eyes, you smile down at him and suck on your teeth. He always knew how to push your buttons and get what he wanted, every single time.
“Fine. But keep those hands to yourself.”
1K notes · View notes
pray4byron · 3 months
Note
I need drama. what if their s/o is an angel who is in hell "illegally". they decided to help Charlie after her visiting Heavens. they have wings and a halo, and can easily move between heaven and hell. One evening they hurriedly leave the hotel, saying that it was "a very important meeting up there. I need to come so they don't suspect anything" and that they would be back in a couple of hours. and fled away. they have been gone for few days. Arriving at the hotel at night, they accidentally run into a character, and let's just say, their s/o is not in the best condition. Everything is beaten and covered in blood, but the worst thing is that golden blood is flowing from their backs and their wings are missing. holding the injuries, where the blood comes from, barely standing on feet, they whisper with a smile "They found out everything. Very soon they will start an attack. I'm so sorry."
For Alastor, Husk and platonic!Charlie
WTFF THAT IS ACTUALLY SO COOL !!
but yes, I will write that for you, rn ;)
Although, due to the fact that this is a bit lengthy, I’m only gonna do Husk and platonic!Charlie (assuming you want them separate) So I hope that’s okay!! But I could always do an Alastor version in the future :)
(pssst… there will be a part 2… you didn’t hear it from me…)
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“Bad Little Angel” Pt. 1
Husk x Seraphim!Angel!Reader
Warnings: Swear words, S1E6 spoilers, alcohol mentions, use of (Y/N)
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“I can’t believe Lucifer’s little cunt thinks, not only, that she can bring sinners up here, but also bitch to my manager? Like just say you’re a slutty, lesbian Karen and move the fuck on.” Adam whined as he walked with Lute out of the courtroom, “I couldn’t agree more, sir.” Lute said with a nod, taking off her mask and shaking her hair slightly.
This wasn’t right, and you knew that. None of it. But you knew, you had to do something.
A true Angel wouldn’t continue to let human souls die off, whether they be Hellbound or not.
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“Sooo, how’d it go?” Lucifer asked enthusiastically as Charlie walked through the door, only for her to walk right past him, his face slightly falling as she did so, she fell face forward into one of the couches before mumbling some incoherent words into the pillow.
“Eh, wha?” Angel asked, as he turned to look at her from the bar, “Fine.” she mumbled, lifting her head up, simply to be audible, before slamming it back into the pillow. “Wow.” Angel remarked, before shutting up after Vaggie gave him the eyes.
Before more words could be exchanged there was a knock at the door, Charlie sluggishly walked to swing it open, and there you stood, one of the three Seraphim’s that were at the meeting, although it was hard to notice due to the white cloak that hung over your body and face.
“— Can I come in before we begin this? I just don’t want anyone to see me.” You said sheepishly, as Charlie stepped aside to let you in without uttering a word, slightly stunned by your presence.
You walked in, and neatly put your cloak on a nearby coatrack, your wings and hall now on display, and now it felt like everyone in the hotel had eyes on you…
Most of which you had either remembered from the meeting or the live video of ‘The Porn Demon’ — or as Lute said ‘Some crackwhore’
“Hello!” You said with a bashful wave. “I’m-”
“Smiles? What are you doing here?”
Smiles? Only people in Heaven called you that. You turn to see Vagi looking, almost confusion? Shock? Perhaps undecided for now.
“Ah yes, hi, Vagi-”
“It’s pronounced ‘Vaggie’”
“Oh. My apologies!”
Vaggie. Noted.
“As I was saying, I’m one of the Seraphims, Ms. Morningstar was in Heaven earlier this afternoon, and I must say, I’m invested in this hotel of yours.”
Charlie’s face lit up instantly, but you could feel the Porn Demon (for a lack of his name) and Vaggie eyeing you suspiciously.
“I… I know we’re different, but I really want to help, this whole hotel is about putting others together despite their differences, so, y’know.. well, I didn’t really think through what I was going to say before I came here.” You said, chuckling under your breath as you looked down bashfully and played with the tip of your shoe.
“Fine.” Vaggie said, before coming up to you, “But know everything is confidential, you don’t get to spill all our shit because you feel like it, I don’t care who’s in charge who’s telling you to do this, if you don’t follow our rules, you don’t get to be here.” Vaggie finished, looking to a deer-like demon, who has a big grin on his face as he comes up to you, and offers to shake his hand.
You hesitate, but shake it, a green light swirls around the room and flickers away the moment your and the deer’s hands lose contact.
You turn to Vaggie, your face serious about the promise just made, “You have yourself a deal.”
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“So this is Angel! You saw him from the video! That is Alastor, he’s the one you made the deal with! Ooh oh! And that’s Pentious and Niffty — Niffty’s the one cleaning, by the way!” Charlie said pointing to a small cyclops girl sweeping and a snake man who followed behind her — he seemed to be a.. you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but you settled with magician.
“That’s Husk, the bartender!” Charlie said with a point, and the cat man gave a small nod — now that was a magician, but if he was a magician, what the hell was the snake supposed to be? Eh, it doesn’t matter.
“And this is… Oh, well you already know Vaggie! From.. er…” Charlie trailed off, it was obvious she was referring to what Adam had announced in the courtroom.
“So is, ‘Smiles’ like your real name? ‘Cus I’ve never met a damn person in my whole afterlife who’d wanna be named that…well, maybe except for him.” Angel asked from the bar, gesturing to Alastor for his last reference.
“No no.” You said with a chuckle, approaching Angel slightly to talk to him more efficiently. “Smiles is a nickname that Vaggie knows me as from… past social circles..” You explained, trailing off, “But anywho, you can call me smiles, or (Y/N), whatever you want!”
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“You want a drink?” Husk asked, as he finished up cleaning Angel’s cup, as he just went to bed for the night, “No, I don’t drink.” you explained as Husker chuckled. “I just… never really got to know you.” You added.
“There’s only so much to know.” He said, “And didn’t Charlie say something about a ‘live video’ from that meeting? See, you know enough about me, new kid.”
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It had been about a week since you made it to the hotel, you had been in Heaven for about half of that time though, but everyone was nice so far!
Charlie was amazingly kind and understanding during shared planning periods, you were starting to build a friendship with Vaggie again, Angel was turning into your bestfriend, you loved the chaotic energy with Pentious and Niffty, Alastor was creepy…but he was okay, and Husk was so soothing and understanding — you have to admit, that maybe something a little special was going on.
It was late, you had just been out on a walk around the block with Husk and Angel, and you were in your peejays, ready to clock out, simply scrolling on your phone, you see a text pop up, and you click to view it.
Lute : There’s a meeting on Sunday. Don’t miss it.
A meeting? For what? We just had a meeting..
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“Is everything okay?” Charlie asked as you rushed to get your cloak and clip it below your chin. Angel, Vaggie, and Alastor also watched you scramble around the lobby of the hotel.
“Look, Heaven really needs me, and I need to leave now if I wanna make it there when I need to, I’ll be back, I promise.” You explained quickly and sternly, Charlie and Angel exchanged concerned looks, Vaggie looked a bit suspicious and you couldn’t help but feel awful, and Alastor had his signature grin.
“You’ll be back, right?” Charlie asks with a hopeful smile.
You hesitate to answer, but give a smile back to her that has the same hope within your eyes, “Of course.”
And then, you flew off.
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arsenalfanf1 · 5 days
Note
Sebastian vettel smut with fem Reader please 🙏 Bonus points for age gap, thank you!
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He was 36 you were 21. You never knew how much you liked an age gap before meeting him. He was more experienced than any guy you had ever met before, he also had a dominant side to him which you adored.
When the media found out you got shamed and criticised, you were going to break up with him before he reassured you, telling you how perfect you were and to not listen to what others said. He always knew what to say.
You had been out drinking with some of your friends, one of them had graduated and wanted to celebrate freedom which of course you added too. You had sent a text to Seb telling him you had gone out for the night and not to wait up.
You arrived home heels in your hands, you had ditched them quite early on, having realised it was your worst mistake. You were being as silent as you could be, but of course you were a bit tipsy, which ended with you knocking over a few things and even falling over a pair of shoes.
“Are you alright my love?” You heard a voice say, looking up to reveal your boyfriend, you could tell you had woke him, he looked sleepy and his hair was all over the place. “Babe I had such a good night, you could have seen the drinks we had, also some guys brought us drink and Luna even went home with one” you rambled on, including details about your friend. “I’m glad you had a good night” he replied “But let’s get you up to bed”
You dropped your shoes to the floor letting Sebastian help you up the stairs, once you got up to your shared room, he went into the bathroom to grab you a makeup wipe and help you remove your makeup. Although that wasn’t what you were focused on, you couldn’t help but noticed how hot he looked.
“Are you alright my love you’re staring?” he asked feeling your eyes on him “mh just admiring the view” you replied, dragging your hands down his body. Before you could go any further he grabbed your hands.
“You’re drunk” he said “No i’m not, i’m horny” you replied “Ok your drunk and horny”
You were barely tipsy no where close to being drunk, he knew that you knew that he was just making up excuses.
Before he could say anything else you pulled him into a kiss which got heated and soon enough you found yourself taking off his shirt feeling up his body that your craved.
“You’ve got too much clothes on” he pulled away from the kiss, within seconds you were stripping down with him helping you.
“Are you going to be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock?” he asked before taking off his boxers letting you get too work.
He was too big to fully fit in your mouth so you made it work.
You started off with long, slow licks from top to bottom, making sure to tease him a little. You started off slow, knowing soon enough he would take control. You then deepthroated him, going all the way down to his base while he hit the back of your throat making you gag. “Fuck you know how to take me princess” he spoke feeling pleasure, even though you couldn’t speak you made sure to moan to let him know you enjoyed his comment.
You were moaning like mad and giving him lustful looks, trying to look as innocent as possible.
You could tell when he was approaching his orgasm, you felt him take control with his movements. Soon enough he had cummed in your mouth. He pulled out your mouth before you could argue “I need to be in that pussy” he said flipping you round and ripping off your pants “hey those were expensive” you complained “I’ll buy you more, I’ll buy you anything in the world I just need to be inside you”
He put in just the tip first letting you get wet and to get use to his size. “You ready?” He asked with a simple yes he pushed fully into you holding his position for a couple seconds before he started moving in and out. “You feel amazing” It had been a while since you’ve had sex, you have both been so busy with your jobs and too tired when you got home, so you were enjoying the pleasure.
He made sure too go slow wanting to appreciate your body and actually not have to rush for once. “Are you close?” He asked knowing you were, your cheeks were rosy pink and eyebrows twisted. “Yes” you replied focusing on your own high. His pace quickened chasing his own high whilst trying to get you to cum. You cummed first before he closely followed, before riding out your own high.
“I love you” he said at this point he had pulled out before getting up and grabbing a wet towel to rub your thighs clean, on his travels he had always grabbed you an oversized top that smelt exactly like him. “I love you too” you replied feeling sleepy after your busy night.
——
Enjoy
Tag list- @ur-fave-ave @faithshouseofchaos @nickxcorpse @may7460 @babyprofessorsharkpalace
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Text
Reunited Again Aren't We?
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Lololol I felt bad I left you guys on a cliffhanger in "Troubles Unforeseen" so here's Vox's POV to the whole thing. Bro already has minor panic episodes when you go inactive so let's see how he deals with the fact you're just entirely gone. Oh and this chapter will feature a bit of the iconic radio demon because trolling Vox will never be unfunny to me HAHAHAHA.
A/N: This interlude's gonna be a wild ride, it's also gonna have some lore dumps because of Lucifer lolol. Hence it is fucking LONG- Btw please send me ideas for Vox and Reader now that they've reunited in death. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, doesn't really matter hahaha, I'm still going for the slowburn btw so please keep that in mind XD ANYWAYS- I hope you guys enjoy this interlude and as always, happy reading!
There was something wrong.
Like, really really wrong.
At least to a certain technology overlord.
Vox just couldn't get rid of the sick feeling he had in his gut.
It had been just a few hours after you said you'd leave for the party.
Knowing that, he tried to just distract himself with his work and hoping the feeling would go away.
Only to find himself counting minutes as nothing seemed to change.
Against his better judgement, he found himself shooting you a quick message.
He was just checking in on you, no harm no foul right?
"Hey doll, how's the party?"
He stared at the phone for a bit, wishing you'd reply and quickly put his paranoia and nerves to rest.
Instead, Vox was quickly reminded that he had a broadcast in a few minutes by his secretary.
Fuck.
He just really couldn't shake that ominous feeling.
Despite that, he put on a charming smile and just went about his business.
Unfortunately, he'd lost track of time after getting swarmed up by work.
So it was only hours later that Vox was able to check back in on you.
And to his dismay, there was still nothing from your end.
You didn't even see his message.
He tries to convince himself that he's just being paranoid.
That there really wasn't anything wrong.
But as he was staring at the screens connected to your gadgets hoping for even just the slightest activity-
The one that showed your phone suddenly fizzled out into static and abhorrently loud white noise.
He recoiled from the loud noise before the panic finally settled in.
Vox had known you for almost two years-
And this hadn't happened once.
The screen where your phone's interface had once been just went back to being one of his typical monitors.
Displaying statistics, graphs, surveillance and whatnot.
The overlord quickly checked if he could still interact with your laptop and tablet and breathed a sigh of relief when he could.
Especially when he could still control that little desktop version he made in his likeness for you.
So, maybe things didn't entirely go to shit.
But still-
What fucking happened?!
He kinda goes off the walls blowing up your notifications or trying to get your attention through the devices he was still tied to.
Which only makes his anxiety worse when there's still no response from you at all.
At this point, it's been a few hours since you've completed dropped off the radar and Vox was just not having a great time.
Were you still at the party or something???
That was of course until a news article appeared as a notification on your laptop.
Vox knew he shouldn't have cared about it much, it was probably just another one of those internet clickbait things anyway.
Especially with the headline.
"Students Injured by Drunk Driver, One Dead"
Who wouldn't think that was an exaggerated story?
But something in the back of his mind demanded that he check it.
It was probably the paranoia filling up with just all the worst possible scenarios.
The overlord just shook his head, he'll check it just to prove to himself you weren't part of it.
Just anything that could tell him that you were okay.
But the second he opened the article to read through it-
Vox immediately felt his stomach drop.
He could immediately identify the bloodied individuals in the headline picture.
It was your group of friends that had gotten caught in that accident.
And it was you who'd gotten killed.
Seeing you bloodied and battered in the outfit you so proudly showed him mere hours ago made him feel downright horrid.
It was like he couldn't even breathe.
No-
No way!
It couldn't be, it was just someone that looked like you!
It had to be!
Was what the overlord tried to tell himself.
But when he scrolled down the page and saw your name written in the article as the one unfortunate death-
Vox knew for certain that he didn't see wrong.
The sick feeling he'd been getting was his instincts giving him a warning.
A warning he didn't heed.
And it costed you.
He sat there in his chair for a minute trying to process it all, especially when the overwhelming guilt finally hit.
Vox wasn't ever one to feel that way, especially in his ruthless line of work.
Not to mention how he generally is a cutthroat businessman who would do anything to get what he wanted.
But when it came to you, he felt immense regret for not having better painted his worry.
That he didn't tell you something felt really off.
It was a new kind of weight at the moment, especially when he was still shell shocked from the blitzkrieg of information.
And even if you still chose to go to the party-
He still could have warned you.
And that was a fact he couldn't let go.
Holding his screen in his hands, Vox just sat there trying to calm himself down.
He definitely couldn't just go back to work like this.
This was bad.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt this kind of overwhelming anxiety.
Was that it?
Would he ever see you again?
Or had he lost you for good?
The overlord was about to kind of just let his emotions run it's course until another realization hit him.
It only popped up in his mind when he saw some random surveillance footage of the city on another one of his monitors.
If you were dead-
There was a chance you could be down here.
He highly doubted it given your nature-
But there was still a chance.
He hadn't lost you yet.
So that was how Vox found himself rapidly traveling through wires and cameras all over pentagram city just holding onto a thread of hope that you would be around somewhere.
Velvette had given him an odd look when he just bolted of the Vee tower like his own ass was on fire but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The priority was you.
As he had unfortunately realized over time.
Zapping himself around through some cables, and cameras wasn't hard.
Tiring as he continued to do it but moving around like a shock of electricity was nothing new to the overlord of technology.
The problem now being that Vox had absolutely no idea where to even begin looking.
Pentagram city was huge, there was his tech and products in nearly every corner.
Aside from Alastor's stupid hotel-
And maybe cannibal town-
So it wasn't that difficult for him to get places.
But where would he even start?
It was unlike him to do something in such a sporadic manner.
Appearing here, appearing there-
Just to check, just to see.
He'd completely lost his cool in his panic and tried to picture what you'd look like as a sinner.
If there's one thing Vox had grown to recognize and love about you, it was your bright eyes.
That gaze that always looked at him with either cheer or mischief.
He was certain that wouldn't have changed even if you were launched into heaven or hell.
Problem was that didn't narrow his options at all.
How was he supposed to know how your other physical features would translate once you were down here?
Hell, he had a TV for a head!
The overlord zapped himself out of a nearby CCTV camera with a huff.
He couldn't keep traveling like that unless he wanted to exhaust himself before he'd even searched half of the pride ring.
So he straightened out his bow and brushed off his suit before just walking down the sidewalk and subtly searching that way.
He wasn't phased when some sinners took pictures of him, nor did he have the capacity to even care.
As long as they didn't get in his way, he left them be.
So imagine his surprise at the sense of familiarity he got passing by someone staring at the display TV screens on one of his many stores.
He swears he's never seen the person before, but there was something about their vibe that just hit like a sense of Deja vu.
Looking over at the sinner that seemed to even be amused at one of his broadcast reruns-
He got a good look of your face.
Your gaze really didn't change.
"Huh, so this is what he does down here. Goofy ass TV-"
And that was your voice.
He wouldn't mistake that anywhere.
"(Y/N)?"
You screamed in shock before you turned your equally surprised gaze to him.
When you met his eyes, Vox knew for sure it was you.
"Vox!!!"
You dropped the bag you were holding and immediately tackled him in a hug.
The overlord opened his arms instinctively to catch you, but he was caught off guard by your sudden movement that he ended up falling backwards and landing on his ass with you in his hold.
He couldn't really say anything when you were just rambling on and on into his chest about who knows what.
Vox couldn't even keep track of what you said.
He was just too relieved to still have you around.
It took a brief moment for him to tighten his hug on you, fearing that if he let go you would disappear.
The both of you stayed like that for a good while, until a certain princess Morningstar and her girlfriend found the two of you.
"(Y/N)???"
"(Y/N) get away from him!"
Vox could only compare how fast you whipped your head around to the times he'd caught you doing something silly.
Subconsciously his hold tightened on you as Vaggie approached, how in Lucifer's name did they even know you were here?
"No! I'd been looking for Vox ever since I ended up down here! I know he's not going to hurt me!"
He was more surprised at how quick you were to defend him, especially since-
Wait-
You'd been looking for him ever since you ended up in hell?
He couldn't catch the rest of the conversation you had with Vaggie and Charlie as he was too busy buffering.
By the time he'd finally been able to pay attention again, you were helping him stand back up with a bashful smile.
And that was when his worry finally reared it's ugly head.
"Wh- How the fuck are you even down here?! I told you to be careful and you'd gotten yourself killed?!"
"As if that's my fucking fault! How was I supposed to know I was gonna die that night?!"
The both of you go back and forth for a little while and you slowly calmed Vox down from his emotional rollercoaster.
He only noticed he was shaking slightly when you grabbed his hand and smiled at him.
A smile Vox was scared he'd never even see again.
He felt a little funny with your hand in his, not to mention just how small your palms were against his own.
"I'm okay now, see? You're such a worry wart."
"I could've lost you, why wouldn't I be?"
You just flick his screen with your free hand in response, but Vox didn't miss the slight red that dusted your cheeks accompanying your pout.
It was only then that he was able to get a good look at you.
He wanted to both laugh and scream at the fact you seemed to have taken traits of a doe, ears and all.
It was like Alastor just had to give him a middle finger no matter what he did.
He also noticed your outfit was the same as the one you had died in, which was probably a hint that you hadn't been down here for long.
Plus, you were just...
Short.
Well, you only stood up to his chest so you just seemed small in comparison to him.
A soft cough brought his attention away from you.
Ah.
Right.
"Hey there Mr. Vox! I see you're well acquainted with (Y/N)!"
Vox was about to just shrug off Charlie's greeting and leave with you when he noticed your stern gaze.
Oh fine, he'll play nice.
"You can just call me Vox, princess. No need for the formalities. It's a pleasure meeting you!"
He returned, extending his free hand to shake with his signature grin propped up on his screen.
Charlie just smiled and shook his hand, introducing herself and Vaggie.
Well, he already knew who they were but he played along.
"Oh just call me Charlie and this is Vaggie, we were actually just shopping with (Y/N) before you appeared?"
Huh?
Vox raised an eyebrow at you but you just nonchalantly pointed to the dropped groceries nearby the two of you just sitting on the sidewalk.
So that was what you were holding before you tackled him.
Before he could respond to Charlie however, you beat him to it.
"Saaaaaay why don't you go back to the hotel with us?"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean I'd reckon it's not like you have anything else to do if you're out here."
Vox didn't really know how he was supposed to react first.
One, he was done with the day's work so you had him kind of cornered.
It wasn't like he could say no to you anyway-
And two, the hotel-
If Charlie and Vaggie were here with you then he could assume what hotel you were talking about.
And he was absolutely livid because he knew fucking Alastor was there.
Alastor.
And you were staying there?!
Though it seems like you heard his thoughts and poked his screen to snap him out of it.
"Oh and don't worry about Alastor, I've been a pain in his side ever since I came to the hotel. He's just really easy to piss off, kind of like you actually- and it's entertaining to watch."
Vox just gave you an annoyed glare from the comparison to which you shrugged.
Though when he weighed his options, maybe it was for the best that you stayed at the hotel despite his rival being there.
It was probably the safest space in hell at the moment-
Especially with how they were able to drive away the exorcists.
That and...
He wasn't so sure about having you in the same space as Valentino.
The pimp already blew up at him when you were just on his phone-
How much more if you guys were in the same room?
He broke from that train of thought though when you just suddenly started messing with his bow tie.
Tugging and poking, Vox couldn't help but find your behaviors as puzzling as it was cute.
He gaze softened slightly at you before he chuckled.
"Just what do you think you're doing doll?"
"Messing with your tie, what else?"
"Hmm, I can see that. Mind telling me why?"
"Cuz I can? Besides- do you wear this outfit all the time?"
"Only when I'm working, aren't you curious."
"Eh, it's all I've seen you wear so I figured I'd ask. Besides, this is the first time we've physically met."
Vox missed the weird glance Charlie and Vaggie gave the both of you.
Not that he would've noticed anyway when you were busy taking up all his attention.
Eventually, you were able to talk the tech overlord into walking you back to the hotel.
He felt a little weird when you finally let go of his hand to pick up the groceries you'd dropped but he wasn't sure why.
Well, more like you were dragging him along.
Charlie and Vaggie were talking excitedly in the front as he just strolled alongside you.
He wasn't really paying attention to them.
"I don't actually know much about what happened in the accident, just that it was a car crash. Speaking of- how did you know I died?"
"A news article popped up on your computer, I almost thought it was clickbait at first."
"Huh, well at least I ended up on the news!"
You both fell seamlessly into conversation all the way on your walk.
And despite you just behaving the same Vox was familiar with, seeing your reactions in person was a completely different experience.
Your energy was almost contagious even.
Vox just intended to drop you off at the hotel and return to his tower-
But you being you, decided to drag him inside despite his protests.
Charlie and Vaggie went ahead inside with the groceries while you once again grabbed Vox's hand to take him inside.
The overlord could already feel all eyes on him the second he stepped through the doors.
Talk about awkward.
"Greetings old pal! What brings you around here?"
Vox visibly cringed when he heard Alastor, forcing his trademark smile onto his face before looking at the deer.
Everyone already seemed to be taking cover for the inevitable fight that was going to happen between the two overlords when-
"Cut the shit Alastor, I don't need you antagonizing Vox when I want to chill out with him."
Vox didn't even have room to reply when your voice immediately cut through the tension like a knife through butter.
Even he looked at you with slightly widened eyes, did you just not fear Alastor at all?
In hindsight, Vox realized you didn't seem to fear him at all when you guys met so was this really unexpected?
The radio demon only narrowed his eyes at you in annoyance, static starting to surround him and you simply crossed your arms.
"If this is meant to be scary, I suggest trying something else. Cuz, you're honestly kinda just being creepy."
Alastor tilted his head before suddenly laughing off your words, your own deer ears pinning back in irritation.
"Why I was just trying to say hello my dear! No need to get so hostile!"
"Don't call me that. It's either my name or nothing ya weirdo."
That piqued Vox's interest, you never had any issues with his petnames-
And yet it seems like you had every bone to pick with his rival.
Was that because of him???
He bit back a laugh and just continued to spectate your exchange.
"If you do insist (Y/N), but I will say you have a terrible taste in companions."
You just flipped Alastor the bird and Vox raised an eyebrow at you.
He didn't even have to say a word to the deer before he disappeared back into the shadows.
"So what was that about who antagonizing who?"
"So much as say another word about this exchange I'm going to punch your screen in Vox."
"That's if you can reach it dollface."
And just like that, you both fell back into your usual banter.
The others would've thought you and Vox were arguing if it weren't for the seemingly genuine grins on both your faces.
There wasn't an air of hostility around you and Vox like when you confronted Alastor.
It was friendly, which was... weird to say the least.
All the more for the current residents of the hotel.
You were a new arrival, so the fact you were so buddy-buddy with one media overlord while having every bone to pick with the other was a little confusing.
Not to mention that Vox was kind of just... there.
Like he wasn't trying to strike up a deal, or even do anything to the hotel.
Was he there just for you???
That fact made them more concerned about your backstory than anything.
When a lull in the conversation between you and Vox finally hit, Angel spoke up.
"Say uh, toots. How'd you end up down here?"
You didn't seem to mind the nickname this time, instead simply shrugging nonchalantly.
Vox was sure now you just said you had problems with it because it was Alastor.
"That's actually a good question. I've got no idea."
"Seriously? Then how do you explain the fact you're friends with like- hell's biggest media overlord?!"
"Oh that? I met Vox when I was alive. No biggie though."
Vox just snickered from everyone's dumbfounded expressions.
Of course he could leave it to you to completely misunderstand just how important the title of "overlord" is.
"I think I might be able to help figure out why you're down here (Y/N)."
It almost entirely caught Vox off guard when Lucifer of all people suddenly made his presence known.
Not to mention the guy was just really short.
Like- wow.
You'd think with all the paintings and tales he'd be a bit more intimidating too but nope.
Vox just looked over at you next to him while you just gratefully gave Lucifer a hug and accepted his offer.
Seems like he wasn't wrong when he mentioned that you could easily make friends anywhere in the past.
The overlord nodded his head slightly to acknowledge the king of hell but was more focused on what he was going to do to help.
It wasn't like they could just watch your entire life on rewind-
Or could they?
Vox just watches as Lucifer uses his magic to form this... golden orb thing in front of everyone.
So color him shocked when it suddenly starts playing some of your memories.
From when you met him because of the ouija board incident-
Up until the point you died.
Was he the reason for your damnation???
Was that why the orb showed that??
"So that's how you guys know each other- don't see anything that could've caused you to be down here though. Let's go farther back."
What-
Now the overlord was completely stumped.
Just what.
Okay, maybe he jumped to conclusions too soon.
Apparently, from skimming through your memories- it seems like the main reason why you were down here with the rest of them-
Was because you stole a candy bar when you were like- five.
"And you were worried about not meeting me."
"I mean, how was I supposed to know I was damned since I was FIVE?! What the hell is this bullshit?!"
Vox could only laugh at you throwing a hissy fit, everyone else around you still being a little confused and dumbfounded that you were in hell for such a small and kind of idiotic reason.
"It's not funny Vox! I can't believe I'm stuck down here because of a fucking candy bar!"
"I thought you didn't mind being down here?"
"Oh trust me I don't, I'm good with wherever you are. But I could've at least gone down for a cooler reason! Fucking hell!"
He couldn't help but smile fondly as you continued to rant.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen you like this, but he always found it cute anyway.
Screens between you both or not.
510 notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 3 months
Note
Hi toni pls bless us with more cbf!simon, very thirsty for some of that 🫣
cbf!simon hides you from the 141. nothing personal, but you're the only good thing in his life, and he does not want to share.
he kept you as his most precious secret until you called his phone at an hour which you should've been asleep, while he was walking out of a debrief.
simon immediately thought the worst and answered the call in a complete panic.
"where are you?" his voice thundered across the room, and then when you responded, he let out a relieved breath. "sweetheart, you—" simon rubbed the back of his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "please understand me when i say that you can't call me like this again unless it is an absolute emergency. understand?"
simon turns around and notices the guys staring at him bewildered, with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
fuckin' hell.
"alright. go to bed, i'll be home soon."
another sigh. "yeah, and i you."
none of the guys need to know just exactly what he meant by his last sentence.
or, they meet you when they're in need to lay low for a bit, and the only place he can think of is your home. it's quiet, a bit remote, and this way, simon could also keep you safe, just in case.
he tells the guys that where they are about to go, they take to their grave, or he'll put them in it himself. he will not allow you to be used as leverage against him. ever.
they figured out that you had to be someone deathly important to him, but to see the way his 'Ghost' persona was shed once he walked in through the door was something they had to see to believe.
he doted on his little love. everything that needed to be done, he was already on it before you even asked him to. simon always shielded your body with his whenever in front of any windows, and his voice was so quiet and soft-spoken when talking to you, that the guys wondered if they were dreaming all of this.
johnny asks simon if he's been drugged, only to end up having to duck his head to avoid simon's fist.
cbf!simon is great, and is totally fucking you as the guys listen in.
maybe even goes to the kitchen to get water and asks them if they enjoyed eavesdropping on them.
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unequivocallyreid · 4 months
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Stay With Me Till Morning
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hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary:
Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?
warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)
wc: 3.2k
if i missed anything let me know!
One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.
Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.
Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.
The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.
You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.
Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.
It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.
Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.
In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”
This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.
So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.
~
“There’s only one fucking bed?”
You’d spoke far too soon.
After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.
When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”
Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.
“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”
You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”
He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.
“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”
Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”
His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.
“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“
You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.
“We’ll share then.”
~
Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.
Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.
It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.
“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”
“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“
You cut him off before he could finish.
“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”
“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”
You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.
Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.
After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.
As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.
“Y/n?”
You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.
“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”
“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”
With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.
~
When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.
You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.
Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.
Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.
It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.
“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.
“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”
You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“
The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.
“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”
He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.
“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”
“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“
You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”
“You heard me right? I said your name?”
The world stops spinning, “What?”
“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”
“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”
It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.
“Were you dreaming about me?”
He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.
The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.
The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.
Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”
With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.
You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.
You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”
His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.
“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”
You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.
“You’re so, so beautiful.”
His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.
“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”
You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.
You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.
“Spencer, please.”
Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.
Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.
You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.
His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.
You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.
“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”
You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.
“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“
“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”
The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.
“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”
“Fuck, Y/n.”
He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”
The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”
He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.
He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.
His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”
You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”
His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.
“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”
His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.
“I love you.”
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.
“I love you too. God, I love you.”
~
The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.
When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.
Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”
While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.
End
let me know what you think!!
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rookiesbookies · 4 months
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Please I need more strength kink like you wrote for König but for the text of the COD men. Does Soap show off and lift heavier when he sees you saunter into the gym? Does Ghost try not to pay attention as you stare? I am down bad for these boys
So this is the most recent ask Ive gotten but dont fret my other requesters, yalls are taking more time bc they’re longer form pieces (I dont want to spoil but honeymoon/consummation night with Ghost (doing some research for this one), some Konig wifey bits (there’s two or three), and Ghost’s wife wearing his mask) Im so excited you all are interacting with me I just wanna say. I love you all *MUAH* big kiss.
Also I took Keegan off this one bc I don’t think I have a lot of Keegan fans reading? (ik I love him tho) so if anyone wants it just put a comment and I’ll write one and edit it so its in here.
Edit right here: I put Keegan down at the bottom. Dw Keegan girlies he’s here now.
Another edit: I put Krueger bc a reblog asked for it
Without much more here’s:
Strength Kink with the 141
Masterlist is pinned as always, also let me know if yall want any as full blown fics.
Price
Price is an “old dog” as he calls himself. He knows he’s getting softer, the wrinkles are setting in, he doesn't quite have the body he used to as a LT. Kinda got a dad bod after adopting 3 boys.
First time he sees you drool over him? He is down fucking bad. Will do anything to see his sweet lady all red in the face over him again.
Fucking saunters over to you, hits you with “you can feel if ya like, love. Go on.” just holds his arms away from his chest while he’s in his tank top.
If you take him up on this offer (and I assume yall are dating at this point) and even just grab at a peck, he is tense. His abs are tight, his butt is clenched, he is doing it all to seem like he still has his young and sharp LT body.
He knows you dont care and love his dad bod and all his soft pillowy goodness but sometimes he feels like the pillsbury dough boy.
Absolutely would pick you up and carry you bridal style at any chance.
Tells you he’s “just practicing” however he is very clearly showing off.
If you come find him at the gym to drool all over him, that max he was only supposed to do one of per set, he is not repping.
“John, are you sure- I’ve never seen you lift this much you look red-”
“I'm alright, love, just doing my reps trying to set a new pr.” Little do you know that by repping this, this is his new pr.
Gaz and Soap are sitting there mouth open because Price has never done that and not fallen over and now he just KEEPS. GOING.
And Price’s wife just keeps drooling over him as Simon spots the poor guy.
(This is what i mean btw)
Soap
The worst about it of them all.
I'm telling you right now, if you have an oral fixation on his muscles, he will mate for life like a swan. Because if you mark up his muscles he will do EVERY SINGLE WORK OUT shirtless until Ghost is like “Johnny. You look like a slut and smell like a whore with all that cologne. We’re in the bloody gym.”
He will walk around shirtless in the tightest sweatpants to show off his thighs and abs to you.
Will bench press you.
Put your weight on the hip thrust and will call you over or send videos of him doing it.
If you’re sitting somewhere he will just pick you up and move you for the hell of it under the excuse he wanted to sit there just to see you get red.
If you compliment his body once, I'M TELLING YOU ONE TIME, he will buy the TIGHTEST shirts imaginable around the house to show off his shoulders, back, pecs, biceps, and abs.
If you even mention having a bad day, your face is going between his pecs. He also absolutely can do the thing where he can flex them one at a time and he does it 24/7 for fun.
Catch him planking at the gym?
Feeling bold?Let’s shimmy under the poor bastard to look up at him.
“Do push ups.”
“Bonnie, the fuck you mean-”
“Come down, get a kiss, and go back up?”
“And if I fall? Which I won’t but I gotta ask.”
“Can’t feel any worse than when you dive onto the bed to wake me up in the mornings.”
He’s floored. Goes down, gets his kiss, comes up.
Price has watched Soap do more pushups than he ever has outside of a punishment when he was in basic training. Johnny has half the mind to let himself drop, smoother you in sweaty hugs and kisses. But he doesn’t. Not until he’s shown off. It’s embarrassing how much sweat is dripping from him though. He’ll just say you both need a shower.
Ghost
Totally doesn't flex when he hugs you.
Oh you think he does?
If you ask him, you’re wrong. Simon is the most casual of them all.
He’ll just randomly pick you up.
Like throw you over his shoulder, hold you like a koala, bridal style, you name it. Unlike Price, who is more careful about it, Simon has been doing exercises to work on his balance so he can safely carry you down a flight on stairs.
If he catches you staring, its over for him. He’s blushing under his lil mask, acting like he doesnt see you.
If you walk up and open your mouth to talk to him, he’s not listening to a word of that blabbery. He’s focused on the way you watch his legs while he’s in the leg press. How if he flexes a bit more you have the pause so you don’t choke on your words.
If you’re the bold on and you get down to the level of his head because he can’t easily escape this machine right now to say something. I'm thinking like a “Simon, I’m going to need a thigh riding session at 1800 hours. Put that on your damn schedule.” And just walk out. Don’t elaborate.
He’s struggling to get out of the machine, considering chasing after you, possibly having a stroke over it. He’s so flustered he’s down right gasping for air. If he didn’t have shit to do today he’d scoop you up and show you want all these muscles could do just to get you to feel like how flustered he is.
Konig
(see the fic about his wife seeing him lift, its on my masterlist (its pinned))
Gaz
By the time you’ve started dating, you know Gaz is jacked. Just look at him ffs. Anyone could see it.
So you do the only reasonable thing and insist on being his gym partner.
And in turn he will insist on spotting your squats.
If you get so nervous you fail a set his plan springs into action. Bro has it lifted in one hand. He doesn't care if it's a lot. He WILL be lifting it in one hand just so you can see how strong he is.
“Kiss for your savor?” He asks.
“Sure.” You reply, pecking his lips.
But no no no.
“Love, I meant you’re actual savor.” He’d say, flexing that one arm and pointing to it.
Just roll your eyes and do it. It’s easier.
He is GLOWING for the rest of the day. He will now take any and all opportunities to lift heavy things for you.
That big box? Lifted. Come kiss his muscles. Cuz if you don’t he's picking you up and putting you in air jail for being ungrateful.
I feel like because Gaz is so lean its kinda a sleeper build situation? Could be completely using that term wrong but IDC.
Lowkey loves nothing more than you feeling up his abs under his shirt when yall are going to bed. Like your hands feel so nice on them when he’s flexing extra hard so they’re rock solid for you.
First time yall cuddled he almost passed out because he was trying to keep his muscles flexed for so long.
Edit: here’s Keegan
Keegan
Keegan was always walking around the house in the sluttiest tank tops and the lowest waist line sweatpants you’ve ever seen.
He had been showing off since he first met you, so I’ll tell you how it happened.
What did he wear on your first date? Tight ass t shirt and a leather jacket with black jeans.
He essentially was giving a strip show when he slowly took off that jacket, made sure you were watching when he did it with a smug look.
“What wrong, doll? Distracted?” He was definitely flexing hard. Pecs and biceps on full display and don't get me started on how he was clenching to get his abs to show through.
He made sure to get real close to.
Oh dear is that a dirty puddle, let him just… yk… casually pick you up to carry you over the smallest puddle ever.
And when he’s at the gym? You are getting tons of selfies. Those videos of him curling weights that are slightly too heavy all because he knows you like the sound of the groans he makes as he struggles to lift it. Oh he is hip thrusting your weight and a half, so you know you’ll never be too heavy. There’s a video he sent that was 10+ minutes of just him thrusting your weight. You honestly thought it was looped.
Oh and he carries your weight when he runs on the treadmill so he knows he and run and keep you safe if need be.
Here’s Krueger (i got carried away, enjoy)
Krueger:
Sebstian knows he’s already strong.
Picking you up and benching you is his favorite hobby. The way you can't help but giggle and he has to scold you to stop wiggling.
He’s always throw around his weight with you. He knows he’s a big. He loves to lay on you to stop you from moving.
Loves to have you lay on his torso with the weight at his hips as he works on his hip thrusts. Got kicked out of a gym because it was dangerous so he got weights to do it at home. Will do it shirtless so you can trace his tattoos.
Definitely has never told you he committed murder because he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like he’s your savior as you rub his sore muscles.
God he loves having you rub his muscles, he just tries not to drool as you rub his calves and biceps with all the force your hands can muster to gently rub the knots away. One time he felt so good he almost cried as you rubbed one out of the back of his neck, he got so bricked he couldnt help it he felt like he was gasping for air the pleasure was so intense.
He’d never tell you that tho, no he’d rather die and speak up and tell you how good it feels when your massage his muscles while planting small kisses after every knot you work out. Definitely going to keep asking you to work his aches away… wonder if he can convince you he has a knot in his dick, no no wouldn’t do that to you not yet.
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cupid-styles · 6 months
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silk and rope 3
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the final part of ddlg harry and little/submissive y/n!!!!
in which harry is a dummy, y/n gets a little too drunk, and thanksgiving is finally good for something.
word count: 8k
content warnings: daddy dom and little/submissive relationship, alcohol, a little bit of angst, SMUT!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sub drop, public play if you squint, dumbification, tiny bit of pet play.. if I missed something pls lmk lol). as stated in the first two parts, I tried to make this as accurate as possible but there are likely some things that aren't correct!! im just a girl and im sorry if something isn't portrayed right!!!!!!
thank you for reading and loving these two, while this is the last formal part of their story I will definitely be writing check-ins and blurbs for them in the future!!! enjoy :)
masterlist | talk to me
part one | part two
. . .
It doesn't take Y/N very long to realize Harry's acting weird.
Well, maybe not weird, but different. He's acting differently than he has been for the past two months, and it's giving her a bit of whiplash. She notices that it started the day after she slipped when he dropped her off at home, when he latched a collar around her neck. 
Her memory of that day is a little bit hazy; the events are more so glued together in blurry snapshots of pleasure and lust, but she does know that she had fallen into her little space while he was gone. He'd punished her for the whole butt plug incident, fucked her into oblivion, and then soaked in the tub with her before falling asleep next to her.
And really, it wasn't that different from their usual scenes. The dynamic was the same, as far as Y/N can remember, it may have just been a little bit more intense.
So why is Harry acting like this?
Instead of stopping by nearly every day to make sure she's eaten and rested, he'll just text her. If she hasn't eaten lunch or dinner yet, he'll order her food to her house instead of bringing her a homemade meal or stopping somewhere on the way. When he does come over, it seems like he's always in a hurry to leave — yesterday, he picked her up from a closing shift at the bakery and barely spoke to her in the car. He came inside, quickly cooked her a dinner, and left before she'd even finished eating, mumbling out some excuse about having to feed his sister's cat.
Worst of all, they haven't slept together in a week.
It's all overwhelming for Y/N, but this time, it's in the worst way possible. She feels incredibly down as the days go on, and she spirals and wonders what she did wrong to make him act this way. She can feel the breakup coming from a mile away, but she assumes that because it's Harry, he'll bake her a cake and buy her a kitten just because he doesn't want to be too mean about it.
She hates to admit it, but she's grown attached to Harry. And she really, really doesn't want to let him go.
It's what led her to asking Naomi to grab lunch on her day off. Naomi hasn't reached out too much lately so it's been awhile since they'd seen one another, but she's known Harry far longer than she has. 
(And yeah, Y/N feels kind of shitty about making plans with Naomi only to ask about Harry, but she has a nagging feeling that she's only kept her around because she feels bad she doesn't have friends outside of them.)
"I'm sorry, you and Harry are what?"
(She supposes she should have expected this type of response.)
"We're sleeping together," Y/N answers in a pathetic attempt to sound casual, keeping her eyes glued to the turkey sandwich on her plate, "But he's been acting kind of off lately, and I wasn't sure if you guys knew something I didn't."
"Well no one knew that," Naomi mutters, stabbing her fork into her salad and stuffing some lettuce into her mouth. "But to address your concerns, no, I don't know anything. Harry's notoriously private about his love life."
She clears her throat and nods. "I think he's gonna end things soon."
"Hmm, yeah," Naomi hums through a mouthful of food, "I don't think he does the whole friends with benefits thing. Lea tried once and he rejected her, it was kind of a mess. She couldn't stand to be in a room with him for like, two months."
"We're not sleeping with other people," Y/N quickly adds. "It's sort of an exclusive arrangement."
Still, Naomi shrugs her shoulders, and it doesn't soothe any of Y/N's worries.
"He may have told you that, but I honestly doubt it, babe. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He can be kind of an asshole in that way."
If anything, Y/N feels even worse now. The gears in her brain are turning too fast and she's starting to feel nauseous, putting the puzzle pieces together and envisioning what her life will be like without Harry after she's gotten so used to him taking care of her.
"Anyway, Bria is having a party this weekend," Naomi says, breaking her out of his spiraling thoughts, "You should come. It'll get your mind off things and you can find someone new to fuck."
She winces at her crude terminology, not because she's offended by it but because she thinks what she and Harry are doing is more than just fucking.
Aren't they?
Forcing down a sip of her Diet Coke, Y/N nods. "Yeah, I'll be there."
. . .
From: H
Can I come over tonight?
Y/N bites her lip as she reads Harry's text for the fourth time. Since getting home from lunch with Naomi, she's been stewing in a series of emotions: First, sadness, followed by frustration and anger, then sadness again, then acceptance. She's managed to occupy herself with some re-runs of Jeopardy, even if it reminds her of him.
She doesn't know what the right thing to do is. What if he wants to come over because he's ready to end things? She supposes she's just putting off the inevitable, but she's been broken up with enough times and she knows how much more painful this one will be. She's not prepared for that, even if she wants to be.
Sighing, she finally makes a decision, tapping her thumbs quickly against the screen.
Y/N: hey sorry i can't do tonight. think im coming down w something, i don't feel that well
H: Do you need anything? I can bring soup and medicine, whatever you need.
Y/N: no im ok, thank you tho
H: Let me know if you think of anything.
H: Maybe later this week if you're feeling better?
Y/N: yea maybe
Tears are already clouding her vision as she locks her phone and tosses it across her couch. Desperately, she wonders why the guy she's fallen for just can't like her back.
. . .
Harry knows he's fucking up.
He wants to smack himself across the face and tell himself to pull it together, but he can't. Every single cell and bone in his body is begging him to go over to Y/N's house and make it all better, and instead, he just sits on the couch, replaying those words over in his brain. Her swollen parted lips and eyes fluttered closed, the way it sounded so effortless falling from her mouth. I love you. 
He wanted to say it back. But that wasn't part of the arrangement.
She wanted someone to dominate her, to take care of her. Who would be if he took advantage of something she said after nearly two hours of play, when she'd been in her little space all day? It wasn't something he felt morally right about, but he knows he wasn't being any better. He couldn't hold himself to high standards when he was pushing her away.
It's why he's so down and out on Saturday night. Normally, he'd be snuggled up with Y/N, watching some movie or TV show, usually after or before an intense scene. Sometimes it served as a precursor to foreplay with the way he'd stroke over her thighs and play with her hair, watching as she became increasingly restless. Other times, it's what they did to unwind, a form of aftercare for both parties.
But tonight, he's not doing that. He's at home alone, confused, because Bria just texted him that she's having a party tonight and everyone's there — including Y/N.
He doesn't like that she singles her out like that. He knows that some of the girls in the group don't particularly like her because she's quiet and shy and rather reserved about her personal life. (He understands why she's that way now.) He doesn't even think Naomi is a good friend to her, but he would never go out of his way to tell her that — ultimately, she's capable of making her own decisions. However, she'd sent him some excuse about not being able to hang out a few days ago, claiming that she was sick and yet, tonight she was at a party?
Harry couldn't live with that.
So he fires off a text to Bria, telling her that he'll be there soon, dressing quickly and throwing himself together. When he's driving over to Bria's place, he makes a mental promise to himself, pledging that as long as Y/N doesn't hate him, he won't return home without her.
. . . 
Y/N is drunk, and she hates being drunk.
The last time she consumed a fraction of this amount of alcohol was the night she spilled her guts to Harry. Tonight, she's downed every shot that's been passed her way. She's not sure what she's looking to achieve — she doesn't want to go home with anyway and the only person she really wants to be with is Harry — and it makes her sad. So, so helplessly sad.
Despite being deep underwater, Y/N is cognizant enough to know that no one at this party really cares for her wellbeing. They were eager to get her drunk, but once she started swaying on her feet with hazy eyes, they stopped caring. Games of beer pong and flip cup were ongoing as she sat in the kitchen, propped up on the counter with her head against the cabinets. 
She feels so stupid, it makes her want to cry.
. . .
Harry attempts to play it cool when he arrives at Bria's house.
Everyone welcomes him, excited that he made it, but they have no idea that his presence has nothing to do with wanting to party. He's here for the girl who begs him to snap a collar around her neck and push a plug into her ass. The girl he happens to be very in love with.
Naomi bats her eyelashes at him and hands him a glass of wine; an attempt to schmooze him when she tells him she picked out this bottle just for him. He smiles politely. 
"Have you seen Y/N? Bria mentioned she was here."
Naomi's eyebrows raise, a defensive look crossing onto her face. "Why are you looking for her?"
"We just need to talk about something," he replies dismissively, uninterested in revealing any details to her, "So, is she here? Or did she leave already?"
She crosses her arms over her chest. "She got pretty fucked up when she got here. She's kind of a mess, y'know? I don't even know if she's here or not."
"What do you mean?" Harry asks, concern and worry bubbling in his stomach, "She doesn't like to drink."
"Well, she sure liked all the shots everyone was giving her."
He closes his hands into tight fists, stunned at how careless these people could be. He couldn't believe he considered them friends at a certain point.
"Where did you see her last?" he eventually questions, pushing past the anger growing in his chest.
Naomi thinks for a moment. "I think Ren may have passed her in the kitchen. Not sure, though."
She's apparently finished with this conversation, clearly annoyed that she didn't get what she wants (Harry knows she's been trying to recreate that one night they made out years ago, but he's never been especially interested). He huffs and pushes past everyone else standing around in the living room, ignoring anyone who tries to start a conversation. When he walks into the kitchen, his eyes immediately find her defeated posture, her shoulders slumped over with eyes half-shut. 
"Y/N," he says, rushing over to her. He's not sure if she's even conscious, so he gently pats at her cheek. "Baby, are you alright?"
Her eyes flutter open, a look of confusion immediately taking over. "Harry?"
"Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?"
"Nothing," she mumbles through red-stained lips, "Why're you here?"
She's slurring her words and he swallows harshly, taking in her rough composure. She looks so tired and it breaks his heart to think that he could have caused this.
"Heard you were here and I wanted to make sure you were okay." he murmurs out, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Are you having a fun time?"
He already knows the answer when she shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "No. Hate being drunk."
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "Would you be okay with me taking you home? Get you all cozy in your bed?"
If she's angry with him, her level of drunkenness has made her forget about those feelings because she nods, making grabby hands at him. He chuckles and helps her down from the countertop, immediately wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.
"My car's just parked outside. Do you think you can make it there?"
"Mhm."
With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs her out of the kitchen and guides her to the front door. He can feel eyes on them and he assumes Naomi is likely leading the pack, but he doesn't care. Frankly, he's fine if this is the last time he sees most of these people — he doesn't think he wants to continue friendships with anyone who'd want to hurt Y/N.
She's quiet as he helps her into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her and closing the passenger side door once she's safe. He's quick to do the same for himself, churning the ignition and flicking the heat on to shield her from the chilly autumn air.
"Do you feel sick at all?" Harry asks as he pulls out of his parking spot. She shakes her head. "Okay, lemme know if that changes, lovebug."
They don't exchange any more words on the way to Y/N's place. Once he's parked, he turns to look over, only to find her slumped in her seat with closed eyes, steady puffs of air coming from her nose. His heart twitches — he wishes they were coming home from a date or something romantic, but he's reminded quite quickly of her drunken state.
He leaves her in the car for a moment to use his spare key to unlock her front door. When he returns, he gently scoops her body up and out of the car. Her eyes flicker open and he hushes her, kicking the door closed. 
"Can walk," she mutters out, and he nods, letting her down once they're safely in her home.
"I didn't wanna wake you up, that's all."
Y/N shrugs and kicks her shoes off, though she loses her balance and sways, Harry quickly coming to her side to steady her by the elbow.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
He looks down at the doe-eyed girl in front of him, sniffling as the words float from her lips. His stomach flutters with anxiety as he watches her eyes get watery, immediately using his thumb to wipe away the moisture from spilling over.
"Why would you ask that?" he murmurs, placing a hand to her hip.
"You don't like me," Y/N answers matter-of-factly. "And you've been avoiding me."
He sighs. He knows this isn't the right time to talk things through, especially because she's only saying these things given her swimming mindset. He hates that her mind even floated to such places, but if he's being honest, he isn't surprised — he thinks he would assume similarly if their roles were swapped.
"Can we talk about this in the morning?" Harry asks softly.
She shrugs her shoulders, letting her gaze fall to her feet. "You can just do it now. I don't wanna remember anything you have to say if that's the case."
"Y/N, stop it," he says with a shake of his head, attempting to guide her up the stairs. He's slightly impressed that despite her wobbly legs, she stays put. "I'm not ending things."
"Why wouldn't you?" she fires back, looking back up at him with a defiant look in her eyes, "You promised me you'd take care of me and— and for the past week or so, you've done anything but. You've just stressed me out and made me feel bad."
Harry swallows as guilt begins to crawl its way back up his spine. He knows she's right. She has every right to be upset. 
"I know," he mumbles, nodding his head, "I know. I haven't been a good dominant. I'm sorry."
"That's a shit excuse. I've heard that so many times before from guys who didn't treat me right from the start. You're different, Harry."
"Y/N..." he's getting frustrated now, disgruntled by how stubborn she apparently gets when she's drunk, "You're right about everything, but this isn't the time to talk this through. I want to do it when you're sober."
She rolls her eyes and if things were normal, Harry knows he would've grabbed her by the hips and leaned her over the steps to spank her. Instead, he lets out a breath and nudges her in the direction of her bedroom. 
"C'mon, let's get you to bed."
Y/N's protests cease after that and Harry's secretly grateful for it. She's sobered up enough to take her makeup off and change into her pajamas as he fetches her a glass of water and some Advil to take. He places them on her nightstand as she crawls into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
"Your apartment's still freezing," he murmurs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "I'll call a repair guy tomorrow."
"Are you staying then?" she asks softly, letting her eyes close the second she smushes her cheek into the pillow.
"I will if you'd like me to."
"Okay," she mumbles, "I hope you don't break up with me tomorrow."
He lets out what feels like the thousandth sigh that evening. "Stop saying that. I'm not going to."
Y/N simply shrugs.
. . .
The next morning, Y/N wakes up with a throbbing headache. Before she even opens her eyes, she can feel embarrassment warming every cell of her body, but she can't place a finger on why. She knows something happened last night but things get a little... blurry at a certain point; her last solid memory taking shots with Naomi and Lea. From there, she has a small inkling of what happened, mainly just recalling her sitting in the kitchen by herself when she started feeling woozy and tired.
When she finally blinks her mascara-crusted eyes open (she thought she took her makeup off last night, but maybe she did a shit job of it), she nearly jumps when she realizes there's someone laying next to her.
That someone being Harry. 
He has his reading glasses on and he's scrolling on his phone. Through squinted eyes, she reads the words heat repair guy best ratings in his Google search. When he realizes that she's awake, he locks his phone and clears his throat.
"Hey," he says, licking his lips, "How are you feeling?"
"Confused," she croaks out, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, only to be met with a pounding ache in her temples. 
"Here, be careful," he mumbles, leaning over to his side to grab something from the nightstand. He hands here two pieces of toast and two Advil. "You should eat this before you take anything. You were pretty wasted last night, I figured your hangover would be rough."
She hums in appreciation and takes a bite of the toast, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. "What are you doing here?"
He's not surprised that the details are hazy for her, so he flips onto his side to face her. "Bria told me about the party and mentioned you were there. I wanted to see you so I went, but you were, um, drunk and... by yourself. I took you home, that's all."
"Hm," Y/N nods, "Yeah, I remember getting drunk with everyone. I don't remember you being there except for us arguing here."
"We didn't really argue. You were just being... stubborn."
"About what?"
Harry sighs. "You wanted to talk about the state of our relationship and were convinced I was going to break up with you."
A beat. And then, "Oh."
"That was never my plan, by the way," he replies, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers, "I was never going to end things."
She shrugs her shoulders and places her empty plate on the floor, tossing back the Advil. 
"I know I haven't been the best to you lately. I've been having a hard time trying to figure out how to approach things."
"Approach what?" she bites, laying back down. "I— all I know is that one day things were fine, and the next they weren't. You weren't being the same and I didn't know what I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong," he shakes his head, "Just... you said something. When you were in your little space."
"I say a lot of things when I'm in my little space."
"Yeah, but this was... like, different."
"How, different?"
"More serious, I guess."
"Harry," she huffs, fisting the comforter in her hands, "I can't guess something I said when I wasn't being myself."
"You told you love me."
Y/N's head whips to the side and she immediately winces, shutting her eyes. He cringes and reaches out to touch her temples, gently applying a bit of pressure and rubbing them. It's silent for a moment as he massages her head.
"I'm sorry," she eventually mumbles, "You were probably freaked out. I'm sure I didn't mean to say it."
"Don't be sorry. I would never hold your emotions against you."
Still, she wants to hide her face in the blankets. She's embarrassed, that much is obvious. She doesn't even know if she actually loves Harry; a lot things come out when she's in her little space, some of which she means and some of which she doesn't. She supposes it's fair that he seems so freaked over it.
"I wish you told me sooner. I could've... explained myself. Maybe."
"Explained yourself?"
Y/N shrugs and lays back against the pillows. Harry follows her lead, tilting his neck so he can look at her.
"I can't say for certain that I love you or not, I've never been in love," she explains quietly, feeling her cheeks warm at the unexpected vulnerability spilling out of her, "Don't you think you could say things when you're dominating me that you don't necessarily mean? You degrade me sometimes and I know those things aren't true."
Harry thinks for a moment, pinching his lip between his fingers. "I guess, yeah."
"I would tell if you if I knew for sure, Harry. But I don't."
He nods and rolls onto his back. He doesn't know why but he feels... sad? Let down, maybe? He'd been under the impression that she loved him and, well... maybe he was okay with that.
"I'm sorry." she repeats softly. He shakes his head and reaches out for her hand, grasping it gently and giving it a small squeeze.
"Don't be. It was stupid. I overreacted."
"Thank you for rescuing me last night," Y/N murmurs, squeezing his hand back.
He pushes down the feelings of disappointment and forces a small smile on his lips. 
"Anytime."
. . .
Harry tries to go back to normal after that. 
He stops being so avoidant, which makes a big difference. He and Y/N are back to their near-daily hangouts, and it's easy to fall back into the routine they established before any of this happened. They're even having sex again, with Y/N readily falling into her little space every time he ties her to the bed, overstimulates her until she's crying, and fucks her open with his cock until he comes deep inside her. They never use condoms anymore, either, and the added layer of intimacy only contributes to what Harry realize shortly after that morning in Y/N's bed: he's in love with her.
He guesses he's known it for awhile, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. But when she explained why she said it, he felt so bummed that it only made sense. He'd wanted her to love him.
But Y/N is Y/N, shy and oblivious and rarely the first to bring up her feelings, so he leaves it at that. He can't think of a worse fate than them actually ending things for good this time, so he keeps his emotions to himself, locked up tight for no one to ever know.
This is a good method, he decides.
Until they're in Y/N's favorite bookshop, perusing through the section titled "BookTok" (he doesn't know what that means, but she clearly does since she has a stack of four books in her hand) and he sees it. 
The familiar moony-eyed gaze, batted eyelashes, spit swollen lips. Tugging at his hand, latching onto his arm every second she can, when the word falls from her lips.
"Daddy."
He looks down with wide eyes. She never calls him that when they're in public, but now she's blinking owlishly, nibbling on the fingernails of the hand that isn't attached to Harry's arm.
"Are you alright, baby?" he asks quietly, brushing a piece of her hair out of her eyes.
"Mhm," she nods, grinning up at him, "Feeling little. 's that okay?" 
He smiles gently, loving this side of her, but concerned that it's happening when they're out and about. He's never experienced a sudden sub drop before, but he knows that he doesn't want to make her feel unwanted, as if she's doing anything wrong.
"Of course, bunny," he murmurs. "Can daddy take you home, then?"
"Yes, please. Startin' to ache."
With raised eyebrows, he nods quickly, lightly tugging her head in the direction of the register. He buys her books for her, grateful that she's decided to occupy herself with the sticker display before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to his car. He buckles her in to make sure she's safe, her books piled neatly in her lap, and gets in on the other side.
She's quiet as she flips through one of her new novels while Harry periodically glances over at her to make sure she's doing alright. It's only when she starts squirming in her seat that he puts a hand over her thigh, squeezing gently. 
"We'll be home soon, baby. Just hang in there for me."
"Hurts," she pouts, and Harry's heart jumps, "Please— can I— will you?"
He swallows, quickly looking over as she wiggles around. In any other situation, he'd say no — they have a pretty firm no-touching-herself rule when he's not there, but he's never seen her drop into her little space so suddenly before. Hesitantly, he nods, stopped at a red light as he reaches up to pluck at the waistband of her leggings. 
"Does my baby just need to cum?" he asks as she quickly shimmies the material down. 
"Need you to touch me." she whines, hooking her thumbs under her panties and sliding them to the middle of her thighs.
"Okay, okay," he murmurs. The light turns green and he presses on the gas, moving his hand up to hover over her core. Even with the distance between them, he can see how much she's glistening. "Did you make a mess for daddy? Just walking around, having a nice day, and your little pussy got all wet for me?"
"Yes," she gasps, spreading her pussy lips with his fingers.
He begins to thumb at her clit, pressing small circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. She's already whimpering in her seat, eyes falling closed as she wraps her own hand around his wrist, pulling him closer. 
"F-feels so good," Y/N mewls, grinding her hips down in time with his hand.
"Such a good girl for daddy," he tries to ignore the straining in his pants as her arousal readily coats his fingers just from a few swirls around her clit. "Cum for me whenever you're ready, bunny. Show me how good you are."
Thankfully, he's turning onto his street as the knot in her core unravels, breathy whimpers and broken calls of his honorific a clear indicator that she's reached her peak. He groans as he feels her pussy contracting, back arched against the leather of the seat. 
"Fuck," he mutters, pulling into the driveway, "You're so fucking beautiful." 
She barely has a second to breathe before he throws the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. He grabs her face between his hands and smushes their lips together, a surprised squeak sounding from her mouth. 
"D-daddy," she gasps, her lips curling into a smile as he squeezes her hip. 
"My good girl, yeah?" he grins, breaking apart to press their foreheads to one another. "You make daddy so happy."
Y/N giggles. She's still in her floaty headspace but with one orgasm in, it's less desperate and more bubbly. A reminder of how much she adores Harry, even with the rose-tinted glasses of her little space. 
"Need more," Y/N breathes, leaning back in to peck his lips, "Please? Want your cock, want you to— to cum deep inside me."
"I know, bunny." he coos, ignoring the way his length twitches in his pants at her needy tone. He reaches up to press a kiss to her forehead. "C'mon, let's go inside. Wanna take you properly."
As soon as she nods, Harry clamors out of the car and winds around to the other side to open the door for her. With her pile of books in her hand and her flushed cheeks, evident of a recent orgasm, he intertwines their fingers together and helps her to the front door, quickly unlocking it. 
Harry's no psychiatrist or expert on the manner, but one of the most interesting parts of Y/N being in her little space is that she doesn't even necessarily realize what she's doing. They've spoken about it before and she's revealed that there have times where she's been so deep under, she doesn't have all of her memories. It's a scary thought, but in a stroke of complete and utter honesty, she's explained to him that she trusts him implicitly — to take care of her when her brain is fuzzy, to never take advantage of her or push her beyond her limits. 
Truthfully, Harry should've known then that he was in love with her.
And when she waltzes into his apartment, placing her books on the entryway table like she lives here, he's immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, until her back is pressed up against his chest. She giggles out his honorific and it makes him smile into her hair — god, he loves her so much it might make him sick — before he mumbles out instructions to go upstairs to get undressed for him.
As always, she does as she's asked, ever keen on pleasing him. He gives her a moment as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath and running his hand over his face. He's never felt so gone over a girl before, and he's managed to keep it together with Y/N this far — but seeing the way she slipped today and knowing it's just another way of showcasing how deeply she trusts their relationship... it's almost too much.
When he does go upstairs, he's instantly reminded of how uncomfortably hard he is. His eyes wander over her naked body, sprawled out across his bed, her feet flat on the bedding with her legs arched at the knee. She's being good — there have been times where he's found her already toying with her clit or sinking the tip of her finger in, but her hands are at her sides today.
"Good girl," Harry murmurs out as he undoes his belt, the leather falling to the floor. "Tell daddy what you want."
She hums, likely unused to getting a say in the foreplay of their scenes. He realizes that she may not know how to answer, so he attempts to help her along.
"Do you wanna be plugged in your bum? Tied up? Edged?" he asks, clad only in his briefs as he places a knee on the bed and wraps a hand around her ankle. "Tell me why daddy's girl needs."
"Want a plug, please," she says softly, allowing him to stretch her legs out, "Just... just wanna be filled."
"Filled, hm?" he teases lightly, reaching under the bed to rifle through the small box of sex toys. She had a bit of a collection of plugs at home, so she'd brought over a few to keep at his place a month or so back (that had been an interesting day, when he thought she had books or extra clothes in her tote bag only to be met with toys). He pulls out the smallest one since, if he's being honest, the need to be inside her is overwhelming, and he doesn't know how long he can play with her ass before he loses his mind.
"Flip onto your tummy, angel girl." he instructs as he pulls his tee and sweatshirt off. She silently does as she's told, pressing her cheek into one of Harry's pillows. She's instantly flooded with scents of his shampoo and cologne, woody and musky and intensely comforting, and it makes her squeeze her thighs together. 
Everything about him makes her warm and gooey inside, as if she's coming to the one place — or person — that always feels like home, no matter how awful of a day she's had. Akin to struggling through a snowstorm, the chill pinging through her body and down to her bones; when she's with Harry, it's like being served her favorite bowl of warm soup and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer.
Harry is her home.
She's floating through this revelation when he pushes her ass cheeks apart, a soft gasp sounding from her mouth when he runs a lubed fingertip around the ring of muscles. 
"Such a pretty hole," he murmurs, and she whimpers when she feels him spit, the saliva landing on her asshole, "Love filling you up, you know that? Every last one of these gorgeous holes."
She moans when he fits his finger inside, pushing it all the way to the knuckle. He knows she's experienced with anal so he doesn't feel like he has to be as precious about the process, knowing that she adores the sensation.
"Too bad daddy'll never share you with anyone though. No one will ever get to see how your ass and pussy squeeze around me... that's just for daddy, isn't it?"
Y/N muffles through a moan and he tuts as he pushes a second finger in. 
"That's not an answer, bunny. Try again."
She shutters out a sigh and slowly blinks her eyes open, trying her to best not to be overwhelmed by him stretching her out. 
"'s just for you, daddy."
"What is, angel?"
"My holes, daddy."
"Good girl," he mumbles, withdrawing his fingers. His cock twitches as he watches her ass gape ever so slightly, the loss of anything inside instantly making her feel empty. It's quickly over, though, because he's rubbing the tip of the lubed plug over her hole. "Deep breath, sweetheart, you know the drill."
Despite doing this numerous times, the stretch never quite gets old for Y/N. (Admittedly, Harry never tires of the view, either.) When her muscles swallow up the thick of the plug, revealing the pink bejeweled end, he groans, tapping it lightly.
"Does that feel better, baby?" 
"Uh-huh."
"What do you say?"
"Thank you, daddy."
He smirks and gently pats the backs of her thighs, a wordless gesture to flip back over. She does, her eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of the plug slightly wiggling inside of her, pressing deep against her walls. 
She leans up onto her elbows, watching as he palms his length through the material of his underwear. With wide eyes, she looks up at him, trying to ignore the way she can feel her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, making a sticky mess.
"What, bunny? Why are you looking at me like you're expecting something?"
Y/N pouts and Harry has to try not to smirk down at her. 
"Use your words, angel."
Her pout deepens. They both know what she wants — her pussy is all but screaming for attention — and it's embarrassing to have to admit it. She adores the way he knows her body, but he's clearly feeling just a little meaner tonight by making her verbalize all of the filthy things running through her brain. 
"Want you here, daddy." She mumbles cutely, bucking her hips up slightly. He hums and uses a finger to stroke over her mound, down to her crease where her juices are steadily collecting. 
"Here?" He asks mockingly, teasing her folds with light movements. It's not enough for her to receive any pleasure, instead just causing her to wiggle around as she attempts to guide him to her pulsating hole. 
"Inside," she all but huffs, and he chuckles, removing his touch altogether. 
"Ah, where'd my good girl go?" He smirks, "You know that's not how you ask. Plus, if you keep squirming around like this, I'll have to tie you up."
Her stomach clenches at the thought; he's always more keen on edging her until she's crying when he ties her up. She's not in the mood for that tonight — she already feels like he's been edging her by refusing to give into her — so she puffs out a breath, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 
"Want you in my pussy, please." 
"That's all you had to say, baby," Harry murmurs. She wants to roll her eyes but she knows she'll only get spanked for it, so she nods, reveling in the sensation of his hands back on her as he separates her lips, a cooing sound forming from the back of his throat at his eyes gaze over her swollen pussy. "You have a filthy little pussy. Did you know that, bunny?"
She shakes her head. 
"Don't lie to daddy," he utters, delivering a swift slap to her clit. It makes her gasp, the quick sting that's gone just as quickly as it came. "You wouldn't be begging for my cock all the time if you didn't."
Some form of an "uh huh" leaves her mouth and he chuckles. Slowly, his fingertip trails down her crease and to the place she needs him most, circling her hole once before pushing in. Her back arches and her eyes squeeze closed, immediately grateful to finally receive something. 
"You'll take anything I give you, won't you?" Harry continues as he pumps his finger, "My fingers, my tongue. My cock, of course. Even my cum — made you daddy's little cumslut, didn't I?"
She moans loudly and nods her head, her hair forming messy knots at the friction. 
"L-love it," she stutters, the knot in her stomach winding up tightly, "Love feeling your cum inside me, daddy."
"I know you do." He purrs, pushing another finger in. "Bet you'd let me get you all swollen with it if I wanted. Carrying my baby around like the little slut you are."
They're both too wound up to even realize what he's said. They've never breached this territory before, never even considered if a future was in the cards for them. But Y/N's already whining over it before Harry has a chance to second guess himself, her pussy squeezing his fingers rapidly; a telltale sign that her peak is but a few moments away. 
"I would, I would," she chants as she pants loudly, "Fuck— fuck, I'm yours, daddy, I—"
Her words are cut off by the throaty moan that parts her lips, the rope in her core finally splitting. It's so much, so good, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he works her through it, never ceasing his praises. 
"There's my girl."
"So fucking beautiful for me."
"God, I got so lucky with you. Fuck."
Her pussy is drooling over his hand now, leaking down to the plug still firmly inside of her. He bites his lip at the visual, her hole still throbbing in haphazard pulses as he frees his cock from the confides of his underwear, desperate to feel her. 
With fluttering eyes, she blinks her eyelashes open as she watches him, her mind filled with fuzzy static. She doesn't even realize she's leaked spit out of her mouth until he smiles gently, using soft fingertips to wipe it away.
"Already cock dumb, sweetheart?"
She nods.
"Can you take more, or are you done? Squeeze my hand if you want to be done."
She doesn't — although her mind is bleary and struggling to string together coherent thoughts, the idea of not having Harry inside of her seems terrible. She can tell he looks concerned (his eyebrows are knit together ever so slightly as he strokes up and down her arm, waiting for her to say her safe word), but she has no plans of breaking now.
"More," her mouth finally forms around the syllables, pushing it out hoarsely, "Can do it."
"Yeah?" he asks through raised eyebrows. "Are you sure?"
Again, she nods. Hesitantly, he shimmies up the length of her body, knees pressed into the comforter with his length hot and heavy in his palm. 
"You know what to do if it's too much. Safe word or squeeze my hand three times."
And then finally — finally — after what seems like hours of teasing and edging (and, quite frankly, it could have been hours; Y/N's too foggy to know), he pushes his cock inside of her and everything feels right. So right, so good, so perfect. 
Her jaw drops open and she leans her head against the crook of his neck, his own groans filling the otherwise quiet room. They're not typically this silent, especially when he first enters her — she's usually whimpering and he's teasing her, calling her a dog in heat or something along those lines — but it's just so... fulfilling, and satisfying, that she can't even put it into words.
When he builds up to a steady pace, mewls begin to break free from her throat, her eyes rolling back as she lays down against the pillows again. He leans back onto his heels and pushes her thighs up against her knees, looping his arms around them to keep her there. He's far deeper that way — they can both feel it — and he gets the prettiest views of her fucked out face and plugged up ass. 
"Shit — you're so good, my fuckin' girl."
Too hazy to answer, she just nods, echoing his words. "Your girl."
"Yeah? Gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Want me to fuck it deep into you?"
"P-please," she babbles, reaching down between their bodies to play with her clit, "Want— want your babies, wanna be yours, please daddy."
"My sweet girl wants to be a mama?" he's clenching down his teeth so harshly he's nervous he may break something, "I'll give you anything, baby, pump my cum so deep in your womb you won't even remember your fuckin' name."
Chants of please, please, please are all that can leave her at this point, deft fingers rolling over her clit as she feels her third orgasm rapidly approaching. He knows it, too, and he groans at the sensation of her pussy clenching over his cock.
"Cum for me one more time and I'll do it. My fertile little pussy, hm? Pretty fucking girl gonna be the prettiest mama."
That's all it takes for her to explode around him, this time gushing out clear bursts of liquid. He groans and curses, the sight instantly sending him to his own edge. In the back of his mind, he knows that squirting all over his torso and legs will put her to the final brink of exhaustion, and he's internally grateful that he can let go and make good on his promise to her.
So, he does. He finishes deep inside her, pushing his hips all the way up against her bum as his balls throb and empty, fucking his cum as far as it'll go. They're a mess of liquids and sweat and they both know it's gross, but there's not a single place either one of them would rather be.
When her eyelashes flitter open and she looks up at him, an exhausted smile forming on her lips, he swears he's never seen anything more beautiful.
. . .
"What are your plans for the holidays?"
Harry raises his eyebrows as he spoons some more miso soup into his mouth. It's a gloomy Saturday evening, with the temperatures finally dropping down to appropriate autumnal climates. Y/N came over this morning to pick up a book he recommended for her, but — as if either one hadn't expected it — ended up staying all day, basking in the cozy glory of Harry's apartment. They snuggled up on the couch, watching Jeopardy reruns, taking turns napping and retrieving snacks and drinks for the other.
"Well," he clears his throat, "I'm not American so I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving. And Christmas is a bit far away, so I'm not sure. Why?"
She shrugs, pulling her knees up to her chest. "My sister was asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving."
"Ah. Are you?"
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"Why? Isn't it coming up?"
She nods her head, occupying her fingers with a loose thread at the end of Harry's tee shirt that she had thrown over her body.
"Yeah. I just... I don't know if it's stupid, but I was curious about what you were doing. Before I made any decisions."
Harry's heart thumps in his chest, his entire body warming at her taking his plans into consideration. 
"That's sweet of you, baby. Hadn't really thought about it, though."
Again, she nods, and he thinks that may be the end of the conversation. He doesn't want to impose, especially since he thinks he's been doing particularly well with the whole not-confessing-his-love thing, so he unmutes the TV and directs his attention back to the screen.
"Wait!" she blurts out, and he mutes it again through furrowed brows, "What if you... like, came with me?"
"For Thanksgiving?"
"Yeah," she bites her lip, nerves apparent on her face, "It's no pressure, my sister's hosting just 'cos she just bought a house with her girlfriend and they have two dogs that are really cute, and my dad might be there but he's not one of those weird hover-y dads that care about who I bring around, not that he wouldn't care but it would be weird to have to explain how we met, and my mom is probably spending it with my step-dad so it'll be pretty low-key, and—"
"Y/N." Harry cuts her off with a smirk before setting his bowl of soup down on the table. "Breathe. You're gonna pass out, I've never heard you talk so fast."
She takes a deep breath and he smiles, murmuring out a good as he turns to face her.
"I would love to come and celebrate Thanksgiving with you. That sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me."
"Really?"
"Of course," he replies easily. "I love any time we spend together."
Her cheeks warm and she nods, as if she's convincing herself he's being truthful. 
"Um... so, like, how should I introduce you?" she asks, and there are so many butterflies swarming Harry's stomach that he doesn't know if he can get any words out. 
"Well... how would you like to introduce me?"
She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her lips into her mouth. "I mean, I don't know... maybe, like..."
And then she mumbles something, but it's so low that he can't hear a thing.
"I didn't hear that."
She repeats it, and Harry lets out a laugh when he still doesn't understand her.
"Baby, speak up. I can't hear you."
"WhatifIsaidyouweremyboyfriend."
"What?"
"WhatifIsaidyouweremyBOYFRIEND."
"Y/N, seriously, I don't know—"
"Boyfriend!" she exclaims, "What if I said you were my boyfriend?"
He can't fight the grin that breaks out onto his face, especially given her wide, exasperated eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of teasing her.
"Is this you asking me to be your boyfriend?" 
She groans and goes to rise from the couch, only to be quickly brought back down by Harry. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards him as his chest vibrates with laughter.
"Ask me properly."
She huffs, twisting in his lap. Swallowing nervously, she looks down, and he intertwines their fingers together. 
"Harry... would you want to be my boyfriend?" she peers up at him through her eyelashes and he smiles that big, dimpled smile that she loves, and realizes she has nothing to worry about.
"I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend." 
He decides to save the I-love-you confession for another day, because he wants nothing more than to do things properly with her.
But when a matching toothy grin appears on her face, he mentally amends the one thing he got wrong about her: This is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
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goldsbitch · 3 months
Text
Just don't talk----
-and please bite me like you did before.
p5 to Just don't talk
summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando is so bored at a gala event that he overcomes his grudge and makes a request he never expected to make.
warnings: not for minors, cursing, biting kink, typos!!! not checked yet
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It was yet another of the FIA gala events that were not to be missed by the drivers. Not even if they wanted to, which was something that Lando had wanted to opt for. But no, he was told specifically to be there - and he didn't respond well when somebody was ordering him around. Unless it was a girl in his bedsheets, especially one specific girl. 
She was sat quite a few seats away from him, which he found to be a relief. He was still mad at her - either at her being a super calculating bitch or at her not having a grip on her own team. Nevertheless, he was still pissed, not planning on going back to fooling around with her and risking his career. She made him mad. The way she just sat there, laughing, looking all cute and innocent. As if she really was. Only he knew how she liked to dominate him in bed, how wild she was and how far from innocent she could be. 
It made him furious. Why did she had be such a bitch? Also, why were all of of the people he was sat close to someone so annoyingly dull? He considered that to be a crime. The worst thing one could do - be boring. 
It must have been a 50th joke he had to pretend to laugh at. At this point, all he wanted to do was to escape. But he was mad, mad at the fact he had to waste time here, angry that this was one of the things that he had to endure in order to have this job and furious that she was flirting with some random executive from a sponsor. As if that guy was in any way a match to him. He wasn't fit, attractive and from the little of what he heard, he was far from funny. Plus, what had he done for Y/N with regards to her regarding her career? Unlike Lando, this guy had done shit. 
My god, was he bored. He couldn't stand one more remark from the guy sitting opposite to him. He had to get out. Fuck it all, he said internally, not being as sober as one should be at these events. 
"Come and meet me at the bathrooms," he texted to Y/N. He burned her with his look until she read the text. She looked puzzled and he just looked at her with a look that suggested she didn't really have a choice. So she nodded slightly and left few moments after him, not to raise any major attention.
She wasn't sure what this was about. Still had their last argument in fresh memory and was not looking forward to living it all over again. But, she felt obligated to at least go and talk to him. She was taken back a lot, when the mood she was met with once she found him in one of the men's stalls was not a look of anger. 
"I want you to bite me again," he stated simply, as it was the most normal thing in the world. 
"What?" she asked, puzzled. Shock wave ran through her. 
He ached from the inside. Needed a hit of any excitement available - and she was the best one out of all of them. Not that he would ever admit it. 
"I'm bored. I'm so bored I'd rather be burning alive waiting in a never-ending line at the grocery store than get back to that table. I am fed up by mediocre conversation, people saying this and that, same shit all the time and I have to sit and smile at the right people. Bite, please" he said, eyes sending shockwaves towards her. She has seen lots of intense looks on him, but not this. It took her a bit by surprise.
"Don't tell me you're not bored out of your mind too. I see the way you look, so desperate for fun. I can show you fun." Without breaking the eye contact, he walked few steps towards her. "I know what you like," he knew she was super sensitive the first time he would touch her during their nightly sessions. Before she got used to his body temperature, she would always shiver a bit. Not from cold or warmth. But the feeling of his fingertips on her skin. With that thought, he slowly traced the line of her arm with a light touch, moving from elbow, to shoulder, where he did few circles and then as a cheeky fuck boy he was, he went for the top line of her dress, right where is covered her chest. 
"Bite me, come on. I like it," he said, putting his finger over her lips. She licked it slowly. "That's my girl." He was challenging her with his eyes, had the same look as her had right before a race. "Come on."
Something shifted in her, inhibitions gone away before she could say "stop". 
"Take your shirt off," she ordered without missing a beat. Lando bit his lips, smiling and began on working his shirt off. She just watched, not participating, calculating her move. She loved having his full attention. Knowing that he was waiting, even probably begging for her to do stuff to him. Oh, what a joy to have that kind of a power. 
His shirt was off and he was standing there, anticipating. She knew they had very little time before someone would come in and the risk of a scandal was too big. Yet, she wanted her moment. 
"Say it."
"What?"
"Please."
"Please." he whispered with a need that was so honest it made her wet. She closed their distance and kissed him hard. Her tongue danced with his, having a complete upper hand. Then she bit his lip, hard. He reacted immediately with a slight hiss. 
"That's not it, my dear," she said and swiftly bent down and put her mouth on a piece of flesh on the side of his waist. It was hard to avoid biting into a muscle on his body, she felt like this would serve good enough. And my god, did this send him to heavens. Her teeth digging to his skin, pain shooting through his left side and all the good emotions coming with it. He gave her a rather loud sign when the pain was too much and she stopped immediately. That was when the emotions started really running in Lando. The same cocktail as last time, but now he was ready and looked forward to taking it all in. The pain shifting into adrenaline, relief and dopamine hitting the right spots. He didn't even notice the sound he made when she released her grip.
She watched him, like an artist would observe his favorite muse. Obsessed with him. How he reacted. How he took pleasure in. She would fuck him right then and there, but sadly, reason stopped her. Also, she wanted to maintain the cool aura this got her. Just feel a little cooler. So she walked away, leaving him with his newly forming bruise alone. 
He felt her bite all evening, whenever he turned over to discretely glance over to her, he felt a little tingle in his left side, leaving his constantly reminded of the little slut he was for this girl.
part 6
_________________________________________
@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour
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actual-changeling · 6 months
Text
Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.
What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).
You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.
So.
We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.
Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?
One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).
This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):
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The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.
He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.
Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.
So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:
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And this is where he stops:
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Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):
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Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"
Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.
He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.
He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.
Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.
He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.
We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.
Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.
Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.
Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.
All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.
Ready?
Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.
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Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.
This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.
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And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.
Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.
He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.
With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.
Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3
-
*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post
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