#also sad how texts get WAY less attention than drawings
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
itlearns · 7 months ago
Text
Kinda sad that fanfics about sex gain more attention.
Even though I myself more likely to read something like that I guess? Still I think my texts are kinda on the good side and it's sad seeing them getting less attention bc people didn't fuck in them.
2 notes · View notes
kivino · 1 year ago
Note
MORE ROOMMATE!SOAP PRETTY PLEASEEE!!!!!
ROOMMATE!SOAP HEADCANONS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
my masterlist
Word counter - ~900 words
Tags/Warnings - pure fluff!
A/n - ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANON <33 i can't really post a complete fic rn because i'm working on another midterm essay so here y'all go! I also have another fic with Roommate!Soap planned out, so stay tuned sdkflskdfjs
Tumblr media
You two met through his sister, you, being her college friend, visited her and her family during breaks many times, and that’s where you met Soap. You two were on pretty good terms, and he would sometimes call you when he or his family were not able to get ahold of his sister when she would go out to parties (usually accompanied by you). However, the two of you became roommates only later in the future, when he decided that he didn’t want to live with his family anymore, but leaving an apartment all empty for months on end would just be foolish. So that’s when he decided he needed someone to co-exist with, and you casually made your way into his life.
Whole Task Force 141 plus Laswell know about you, because of how homesick he gets sometimes! And you don't always respond to messages, you have your own life after all (plus, Soap knows you're not good with texting back, so he tries not to pressure you). However, unintentionally he starts to remember or mention you in unrelated conversations. And that's how everyone around him knows that it's time for him to go on his leave.
Not a lot of people are allowed to call him Johnny. He still gives his older sisters shit for calling him that sometimes. You and Ghost, however, are both allowed to do it. Not like his discontent would’ve stopped you though.
More often than not talks about you in a way that makes it appear like the two of you are together, with how he’s all smiles during these conversations. Describes you like he’s an infatuated teenager and then gets confused when someone assumes Soap is talking about his significant other. It's not that he is oblivious to his feelings, or a dumbass, of course not, it's that his feelings lasted for so long that it's very much normal to him and he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary with it.
The love language that you both share is bullying and insulting each other relentlessly. Soap is less harsh with his words, but you’re just merciless. Sometimes it also grows into play fights and roughhousing between you. Soap tries to be careful, because he knows that he’s stronger (he’s in the military, duh), but he still won’t go down without a fight. So he goes easy on you.
We know that Soap has a whole sketchbook, filled to the brim with many drawings of various quality, his thoughts, and different garbage he picks up when he has the opportunity. A pretty leaf? Snatch. A random receipt from when you got groceries with him together? Snatch. A note you scribbled for him to finally wash his damn dishes? Sad snatch. When he's on leave he takes the opportunity to sketch you as much as possible, so he remembers every single detail of your face, the expressions you make, or the way you position your body. Soap does it to be able to replicate it when you’re not around him. He has millions of sketches where you’re napping on the couch.
When he’s absentmindedly doodling something during the briefings and meetings he draws small figures that resemble Task Force and you. One time he bought some colored pens so he’s not bored out of his mind on base, and the assigned color to draw you was blue, while he drew himself with a red pen. Gaz got green and Ghost he draws using a black pen, both Laswell and Price share the fact that Johnny draws them with a pencil.
One of the small traditions that you have when he’s on leave, is cooking something for each other while some show you’re not paying attention to plays in the background. The kitchen in the apartment is pretty modest, so two people cooking and moving around at the same time is a bit too much for such a small amount of space. When you get too into the process of mixing or cutting something and Soap needs to squeeze past you, he gently puts a hand on your lower back and you instantly know what he wants, because of how much he does it. It’s never arrogant or invasive, instead, it’s gentle and a bit playful.
Johnny’s very sociable and likes going out to drink frequently. You, however, prefer to not get involved in his escapades as often, so you stay home, instead telling him to call whenever he needs you to pick him up. On multiple separate occasions, when he came back home a bit tipsy, he would stumble into your room and fall on your bed, getting knocked out almost in a second. Soap’s snoring is pretty loud when he’s drunk or has a stuffy nose. Plus, he’s as heavy as a damn rock and you can’t move him because of it, so instead you sleep on the couch, sacrificing the health of your back for Soap’s sweet dreams.
Johnny is pretty good with his hands. If anything broken needs fixing, or anything heavy needs lifting he’s always happy to help. He’s also a decent cook, so if you’re not feeling like cooking dinner after you’re back home from work he’s ready to throw something together for you no problem. Partially because he knows that you’d do the same for him if he asked. And, well, he just cares about you. He’s ready to cook dinner for you for the next decade if it means you’ll feel better.
Your texts with him are filled to the brim with stupid videos and photos you send each other. If Johnny sees something that reminds him of you, what you like, or some random inside joke – you best believe he’s already snapping a photo and sending it to you.
Tumblr media
check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!
292 notes · View notes
tsams-and-co-memes · 7 months ago
Text
LAES Earth Canon Info
Updated - 11/10/24
Earth's likes:
Pink
Barbie movies
Nature
Animals
Tiny things
Love stories
Princesses
Storybooks/fairytales
Phantom of the Opera
Broadway shows/musicals
Beaches
Lilac flowers
The Powerpuff Girls
Wicked
Hair accessories and makeup
Tim Allen
Aquariums
Anime
Tea
PB&J's and grilled cheese sandwiches
Playing with makeup sometimes
Mac n cheese
Soap Operas
Learning other languages
Chinese dramas
Lethal Company, even though it scares her
Garlic bread
Geese
Skyrim
Fries
Gudetama
Baking sweets
Earth's dislikes:
Cottagecore
Drawing
Violence
Bloodmoon (based on the way she acts towards/with them)
Eclipse (also based on how she speaks to/acts towards him. She gave him chances to be better than he was currently being, and instead of trying, he opted to keep being a jerk) ((This is subject to change))
Driving
Dora the explorer
Sleeping while shrunk down (it feels restrictive to her)
Snapple
Sad movies/shows
Miscellaneous:
Bugs (They freak her out. More specifically, she doesn't like ants and spiders)
Superhero or monster movies
Unlike Sun and Moon, Earth is capable of eating food (partial retcon. Sun and Moon have apparently started eating food)
She used to prepare food for the creator and have dinner with him
She primarily works with children who have disabilities, and children who require more one one one attention
She has a system/database thing in her head that’s loaded with nothing but puns and jokes
She prefers baths over showers
Earth is a silent rage sort of person when she gets angry
Earth has ADHD
She uses a lot of emojis when texting
Her comfort/coping mechanism is saying “pretty ballerina” and/or singing Barbie Girl
She has 5 journals that she's written in as a coping mechanism
Earth starts her days off with morning yoga (the yoga involves screaming), then from there, she goes to work at the daycare. After she's done for the day, she cleans up the daycare, then goes home and cleans every square inch of her room/Monty’s house. After that, it's bedtime, but if she wakes up in the middle of the night, she may go cook an entire meal
She's a clean freak like Sun, and she needs to start her day off by screaming like Lunar
She's pansexual. Maybe demisexual. We're not sure about the specifics yet. She's more drawn to a person's personality than their gender or appearance (according to info in a video, she doesn’t really identify as anything and is more or less unlabeled) (<- according to Solar, she's probably pansexual)
Earth has very good balance
Earth has been ice skating
She watches Bluey
Earth has eagle eyes
Earth's mouth can open
Earth sleeps with her crocheted bunny
115 notes · View notes
thrumbolt · 2 months ago
Text
Small guide to art posts on Tumblr:
I'm writing this because I keep seeing more and more beautiful art with absolutely terrible presentation on my dash. Presentation that is so bad it makes me sometimes not reblog the post even though I love the art itself. Call me superficial, but the presentation is part of the art as well and usually these posts also have less notes than you'd expect for the quality, so it's probably not just a me thing. That makes me sad and I want everyone to get the attention they deserve so here are my tips on how to present art on tumblr:
Put the image first, then add a small description - NOT the other way around. So many art posts have people yapping and yapping, only to then post an image in the middle of a wall of text. Don't do that! Have you ever been to a museum? Descriptions and titles should be small and below a piece of art. That's because you want to center the art as your main piece in your post.
If you have a long description or context, put it under a cut. Honestly, that is how everyone should do with long text. Nothing worse than making people scroll endlessly if they don't want to and it's also what makes people hesitate to reblog long posts. Short descriptions also give the benefit that people outside your fandom corner will be more inclined to reblog your art as well!
So generally keep text short and clear if possible. If you didn't draw the art, credit the artist above all else! I keep seeing people who commissioned something confused for the artist and it's fucking annoying. No one truly cares if you paid someone to draw something, everyone just wants to know who drew it. Also please for the love of all that is holy, do not pair your art with an embedded spotify link to a playlist. If you really want to share music, put it under a cut as well or in a hyperlink. Last thing you want is some ugly ass album cover to take away from your art!
No colorful fonts. There's a reason the majority of tumblr has ignored them ever since they were conceived (I remember the update! I was there!) and it's because it's ugly as sin and in the terms of artwork, it usually distracts from the piece as well, even if you try to color code. It's also the easiest way to out you as a newbie :D
If you have more than one page/piece in a post, consider the arrangement carefully. You do not have to accept the tumblr default - you can rearrange! In general, if it's not that many pieces, it makes sense to post them below each other rather than side by side. Make people look at your art that you spent so much time on! It's allowed to be eye catchy! If you have a more horizontal piece with short sides, consider adding a detail shot or two to lengthen your post so people don't accidentally scroll by.
Please, please stop using the huge title font in art posts, I beg you.
And that's basically it. In the end you can of course post however you like - it should please you first and foremost after all. This is just meant as tips and tricks of someone who has reblogged and posted art for over a decade on this hellhole of a page now. Some things newer people might not be aware of.
30 notes · View notes
idolish7imagines · 10 months ago
Note
Uhm sorry Im a little embarrassed but can I request a Tenn and Momo x shy reader who is also VERY clingy and easily emotional (both when overly happy and upset)?👉👈 thank you.
Tenn and Momo x shy reader who is also VERY clingy and easily emotional
.::.
Kujo Tenn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tenn being more gentle with you than others was already a given, you were his s\o after all
However, it is a bit of a learning curve dealing with both your clinginess and rapidly changing emotions
He loves you with all his heart though, so for you he's willing to deal with it; using less harsh words so he won't sound too critical and making sure there's not any other sources around you that would cause you discomfort (he's learned how to manage that well from his experience with his twin brother)
He doesn't mind your shyness, its actually refreshing after being around his fellow groupmates that can tend to get loud from time to time
It's actually kind of a relief since that means you won't ever draw attention to the two of you
Sometimes he isn't aware how much of your shyness applies to him though. In private, the two of you have your passionate moments, with him cupping your cheeks and whispering sweet nothings into your ear
A slow blink is his response to you getting flustered..before slowly realizing he enjoys the effect he has on you and wants to push it even further, a smirk playing on his features.
Your cheerfulness does tend to be infectious, usually even making him sport a small smile when he's had a hard day
Sometimes he wishes you would be less clingy in front of others though, he hates the teases being thrown his way if you so much as wrap your arm around his, resting your head on his shoulder
He hates leaving you on read due to work because he doesn't want you to be sad. Tenn tries to make it up to you by spending most if not all of his off days with you
When you have moments where you're easily upset, sometimes he isn't sure what to say to make you calm down (especially if he doesn't see what you're upset over as a big deal) but he doesn't invalidate your feelings and does his best to get you feeling happy again, offering to share sweets with you
"What am I going to do with you?" The angelic idol gave you one of his smiles that'd make even his most stoic of fans hearts melt, petting your head as your arms clung around his waist not wanting him to leave your side.
Momo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Honestly Momo is the exact same as you
He isn't shy in general but when it comes to people he greatly admires he'll turn stiff as a board at the notion of getting closer to them
so if youre clingy and easily emotional, he completely understands, even returning the feelings
Unfortunately one con might be that if you two were to ever argue (which would probably be over something extremely serious like Tsukumo or overworking himself since Momo is relatively easygoing otherwise) both of you would probably start acting out and need a third party Yuki or Okarin to be a voice of reason
The bright side though is Momo is quick to apologize and even get you flowers
If he needs someone to hype him up he knows he can always come to you and he always does the same vice versa
If you text him a lot when you miss him while he's working, he makes sure to respond as soon as he can so you feel less lonely
The cheery idol also doesn't mind PDA (while disguised of course so he gives you lots of kisses and hugs and holds your hand
his favorite is swinging your hands back and forth while walking
He's used to dealing with shy people so if you need him to speak for you he'll always do it
Though don't think that means you're exempt from his impish tendencies
Momo will still tease you sometimes. If you cover your blushing face with your hands, he'll grab them away and press a kiss on your nose
"Ehehe, (Y/N)-chan~ I'm already thinking about what I wanna do with you. Now that I finally have you to myself, you'll never escape as long as possible!" Your boyfriend playfully nibbles your neck. You're in for a nice cuddle session since both of you feel its been far too long since the last one.
37 notes · View notes
samwisethewitch · 4 years ago
Text
Tapping Into Your Psychic Senses
Tumblr media
Every single person on the planet has psychic abilities, but most people never realize that they’re using them. As Tess Whitehurst says in her book You Are Magical, “There is almost certainly something you assume that everyone can perceive that is actually a perception that is relatively unique to you.”
For example: you may be a gifted artist. Drawing and painting come naturally to you, and you have an intuitive sense of form and color. You probably know people who claim that they “don’t have an artistic bone in their body” or “can’t even draw a stick figure,” but you can’t bring yourself to believe it. Surely, those people are just psyching themselves out, because if art comes so easily to you, everyone must be able to do it to some extent, right?
Psychic abilities are similar. You’ve probably been tapping into at least one psychic sense all your life, but it feels so normal to you that you assume everyone experiences the world this way.
Once you become aware of your innate psychic abilities, you can start to harness them. For this reason, I think it’s a good idea to become familiar with (and comfortable using!) your natural psychic gifts before you try to learn any kind of divination.
Read over the following list of common psychic senses. Does one or more of them sound familiar? Once you recognize which of these you resonate with, focus on strengthening that gift over the next couple of weeks. You’ll be amazed by how easily you’re able to tap into it once you know how!
Clairvoyance: Clear Seeing
Contrary to popular opinion, the word “clairvoyance” does not describe any and all psychic abilities. Someone with clairvoyance receives psychic messages through their sense of sight. They may see these messages with their physical eyes, or see images in their mind’s eye. Seeing auras is an example of clairvoyance in action.
You may be clairvoyant if…
You often see flashes of light, blurred figures, or other visual phenomena that others do not see. [Note: This is NOT the same as visual hallucinations. Clairvoyants typically see things with their mind’s eye, not their physical eyes, and can differentiate between their visions and what is physically in front of them.]
You often experience random mental images that seem to have nothing to do with what’s going on around you.
Your meditations are primarily visual — for example, if you meditate on the element of water, you may see a bubbling fountain in your mind’s eye.
You are a visual learner.
Ways to Strengthen Clairvoyance
Keep a journal of the mental images you receive “out of nowhere.” Do these images mean anything to you? Do individual visions fit into a larger pattern?
Meditate on the energy systems in your body, starting from the feet and working up to the crown of the head. What does your energy look like? Are the colors bright and clear, or more faded and muddy? Does the energy move quickly, or is it slow and sluggish? Are there certain areas of your body where the energy seems to be tied up or stuck? How does its appearance correspond to your life? 
Do research into auras and what the different aura colors mean. Do you always seem to see or think of a certain color when you’re around a certain person? How does that color represent that person’s energy and personality? Write down your findings.
Clairaudience: Clear Hearing
Someone with clairaudience receives psychic messages through their sense of hearing. They may hear messages with their physical ears or “hear” them in their mind. A medium who hears spirits is an example of someone using clairaudience.
You may be clairaudient if…
You sometimes “hear” things in your mind, as if someone else was talking to you from inside your head. [Note: This is NOT the same as “hearing voices” or auditory hallucinations. Clairaudients usually “hear” messages with their mind, not their physical ears, and they can distinguish between psychic messages and physical, “real world” sounds.]
Sometimes, when you listen to music or watch a movie, a specific lyric or line of dialogue seems to jump out at you, as if it were a special message.
Your meditations are primarily auditory — for example, if you meditate on the element of water, you may hear a babbling brook.
You are an auditory learner.
Ways to Strengthen Clairaudience
Keep a journal of the messages you “hear” out of nowhere. Are they consistent, forming a larger pattern? Do they all seem to be “in the same voice,” or coming from the same source? (If so, this could be a deity or spirit guide reaching out to you.)
Do a meditation with the intention of holding a conversation with a helpful spirit guide. (If you are not comfortable working with spirits, you can set the intention of speaking to your inner self.) What does their voice sound like? Is it different from or similar to your own? Do they speak with an accent or have a unique inflection? Write down your thoughts.
Experiment with shufflemancy. This is a modern form of divination where you put a playlist on shuffle and receive a psychic message from the song that plays first. (You can find playlists specifically made for shufflemancy online, or make your own.) How does the song make you feel? Are there certain lyrics that jump out to you? Write down your thoughts.
Clairsentience: Clear Feeling
Someone with clairsentience feels psychic messages, either through their body or through their emotions. They may feel physical sensations, like an upset stomach, or may be very sensitive to emotional energies. Intuitively picking up on someone’s emotions without needing to ask is an example of clairsentience.
You may be clairsentient if…
You often feel physical sensations, like a hot flash or a cold chill, out of nowhere.
You are able to feel other people’s emotions — you can always tell when someone has had a bad day, even if they’re trying to hide it.
You can sense the “vibe” of a room as soon as you walk in. Do certain buildings feel “angry” or “sad” to you? Can you always tell the energy of a party even if you just arrived?
Your meditations primarily focus on tactile sensations — for example, if you meditate on the element of water, you may feel waves lapping at your feet.
Ways to Strengthen Clairsentience
Pay attention to your “gut feelings.” Do you feel a sinking sensation when thinking about something, only for it to go badly later? Do you feel a warm, fuzzy sensation thinking about something, only for it to go really well? Write down your experiences — and be honest. It’s okay if your gut feeling doesn’t always match the outcome.
Do a pathworking meditation (this is just a type of meditation that focuses on taking a mental journey) to a forest, or a beach, or some other location that appeals to you. Try to feel as many tactile sensations as possible, as if you were really there. Feel the grass or sand under your feet, feel the wind in your hair, feel the sun on your skin. Write down your experience.
Practice feeling the energy of a plant or crystal. Reach out and touch the plant/crystal, and try to feel it out. Does it have a calm, stable energy, or is it more bright and zingy? Try feeling a different plant/crystal and see how it feels different. Write down your experience.
Note: Some (but not all) clairsentients are also empaths, people who take on the emotions of others as if they were their own. All empaths are clairsentient, but not all clairsentient people are empaths. You may be an empath if you often find yourself matching the emotions of the people you’re around — you cry when they cry, laugh when they laugh, etc.
Claircognizance: Clear Knowing
Claircognizence is the gift of psychic knowing — people with this ability often “just know” things, even if they should have no way of knowing. They may know what someone is about to say before they say it, or know personal information about someone they just met.
You may be claircognizant if…
You “just know” what’s going on with your friends and family, even if they haven’t told you. For example, you may suddenly feel like you need to call your sister, only to find out after you call that she just broke up with her boyfriend.
You always know who a text is from as soon as your phone dings, or always know what song is going to play next on shuffle.
You often know things about new people as soon as you meet them, only for them to confirm it later. Did you know your friend was a vegetarian before he told you, even though you’d never shared a meal with him?
Your meditations often include “downloads” of information, where you feel like the answer to your question or some other revelation has just been dropped into your brain.
Ways to Strengthen Claircognizance
Every time your phone goes off, try to guess who the message is from. Keep a tally of how often you’re right vs. wrong.
Do a meditation with the intention of receiving the answer to a specific question. Retreat to a place of stillness and focus on your breath until the answer to the question “just comes to you.” Write down your experience.
This is a game I used to play with my sister before I knew what claircognizance was: have a friend show you a picture of someone they know, but whom you have never met before. Focus on the picture, and see if you get any info about the person — are they a jock? Do they like rock music? What’s their personality like? Get your friend to confirm or deny the info you got from the picture, and keep a tally of how often you’re right vs. wrong.
The Other Clairs
There are two other “clair” senses that are less common, so I’m not going to talk about them at length here. Clairalience, or “clear smelling,” refers to receiving psychic messages through smell. (If you smell roses out of nowhere, with no roses in sight, you may be using clairalience.) Clairgustance, or “clear tasting,” refers to receiving psychic messages through taste. (If you taste chocolate out of nowhere, you may be using claigustance.)
In my experience, these psychic senses are less common than the ones listed above. Most people I know who have clairalience or clairgustance seem to use it as a secondary sense, in addition to a primary sense like clairvoyance or clairsentience.
Conclusion
You are probably using at least one of these psychic senses every day, without even knowing it. Most people have two to three “main” psychic senses, but some may regularly and easily use all of them. For example, my primary psychic senses are clairsentience and claircognizance, but I also find myself receiving messages through clairaudience fairly often. It’s rare for me to receive clairvoyant messages, but it has happened.
Once you’ve identified the psychic senses that you naturally lean towards, you can begin to develop and strengthen them.
Resources:
You Are Magical by Tess Whitehurst [Specifically the chapter, “Reading the Signs.”]
The Fat Feminist Witch Podcast, Episode 68: “Clear Knowing”
The Angel Code by Chantel Lysette [Specifically the section on the psychic senses.]
7K notes · View notes
imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago
Text
Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k
MASTERLIST
—————————————————
Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.
So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.
“Hello, little girl.”
But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.
It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.
“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.
“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.
I hoped not.
Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”
“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.
“Barely,” he corrected.
“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”
I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.
“Yeah, sure feels like it.”
His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.
“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”
“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”
He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.
“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”
“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.
He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”
“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”
Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.
It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.
“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”
He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”
“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”
“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.
“My last one is on Wednesday.”
The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”
“You should call my professors and yell at them.”
He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  
“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”
After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”
It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”
The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.
But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.
“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”
“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.
“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”
But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Unfortunately.”
I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.
“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.
But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  
“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”
“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.
“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.
He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.
“I want… you to go to bed.”
“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.
Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”
“I love you, too, old man.”
He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.
“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  
“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.
Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”
“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”
“Goodnight, little girl.”
—————————————————
Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.
It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.
The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.
I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”
“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.
“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.
“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.
But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  
“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.
“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”
“But you weren’t,” I snorted.
Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”
There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.
But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”
I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.
He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.
Speaking of…
"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 
In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.
"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 
While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.
“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.
Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 
The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.
A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.
“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.
“Is that a challenge?”
I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.
“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.
Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.
As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.
It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.
“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”
But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.
Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.
His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.
Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—
“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.
Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  
The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.
I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.
For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.
Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.
He kept a few for me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.
“This is wildly inappropriate.”
“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.
I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  
Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.
There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.
“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.
Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”
The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.
I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.
But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.
I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.
“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.
Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”
His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.
“Take me home.”
Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.
“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.
“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.
“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 
Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.
I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.
“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”
With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.
I couldn’t resist.
“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  
“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.
After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.
—————————————————
The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.
“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.
Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.
From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”
It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.
“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.
“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.
“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.
“Why’s that?”
“I wanted you so badly.”
There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  
“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”
Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.
“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.
I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.
“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.
“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”
Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.
“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”
“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”
“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”
He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.
“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.
“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.
He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.
“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”
The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.
“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.
“I don’t know…”
If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.
“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”
It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.
“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.
“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  
I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.
It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.
“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.
“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”
Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.
I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.
“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”
I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.
His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.
But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.
Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.
“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”
My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.
I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.
My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.
Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.
That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.
“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.
“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.
It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.
“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”
“Gross,” I joked.
“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.
“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”
Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.
“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.
“Good afternoon, Spencer.”
I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.
And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”
Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.
It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  
Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”
In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.
“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”
Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”
Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.
“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.
“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”
“And do what?”
It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.
Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.
And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.
“Whatever we want.”
—————————————————
| Finale |
537 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 4 years ago
Text
Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)
Tumblr media
Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space
Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her, none of this would have happened. 
Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).
So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,” 
The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,” 
Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled. 
Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...
“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours. 
“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”
“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks. 
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”
“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment. 
“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”
“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking. 
“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”
“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,” 
“Your team?” 
“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment. 
Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?” 
“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip. 
“No biggie?  I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’
“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed. 
“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”
“What??” 
****
“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone. 
When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was. 
“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”
“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her. 
“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose. 
“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back. 
She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage. 
“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”
You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly. 
“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple. 
You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?” 
“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously. 
You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 
“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously. 
…...
“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call. 
“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something. 
Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal). 
“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop. 
“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.” 
“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated). 
While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”
“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose. 
“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you. 
“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned. 
“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”
“-ove y- -oo” 
Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”
“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea. 
“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation. 
“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”
“great.”
Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go. 
****
Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean. 
“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point). 
“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles. 
You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.” 
“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance. 
The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient. 
“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods. 
“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground. 
“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.  
“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food. 
“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth. 
“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,” 
****
You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue. 
“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”
“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.
 “But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met. 
“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours. 
“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes. 
“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you. 
“Hm, I’m your goof,” 
“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 
“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her. 
“No more space travel for a while?” 
 “Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers. 
“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”
409 notes · View notes
lilsocksiswriting · 3 years ago
Text
Osamu(s)
Fandom: Haikyuu
Paring: Osamu X fem!reader X Future!Osamu 
Summary: On a stormy night, your boyfriend shows up at your door with his future self in two.
Warnings: No beta, Post time skip spoilers, minors DNI
Tags: dirty talk, masturbation, thigh fucking, voyeurism, overstimulation, crempires
Word Count: 4366
There was just something about tonight that made things feel amiss. it was smack dab in the middle of midterms week. Everyone was either studying, out at the bats drinking aways their dread, or like you trying to finish midterm papers. This makes the apartment complex you lived in quieter than usual which you don't mind at all. You can hear the heavy downpour of rain more clearly because of it too. You look up from the screen of your laptop to outside the window and at the street lamps below.  the rain dampens the street lights, limiting their reach,  and making them seem more like fairly glowing orbs. They add to the mysterious ambiance of the night.
A ding draws your attention back to your phone's screen has lit up with a banner of Osamu's name surrounded by grey hearts and stars
Osamu: babe?
Y/N: Hey bubs
Osamu: something weird happened
Y/N: Are you ok?
Osamu: yea. I was just getting in my head again.
Y/N: Oh no
Osamu: I know I'm sorry.
Y/N: you don't have to apologize. I'm not mad, it happens. I'm happy that you aren't keeping it to yourself this time.
Osamu: right, well as I was thinking was when the weird thing happened.
Y/N: and what is this weird thing?
Osamu: we're coming over
Y/N: what?
Osamu: is are coming over?
Y/N: what? Osamu what are you trying to say?
since Osamu only lived a floor above you in a studio apartment much like your own it didn't take long after his text for you to hear a knock on your door. When you open it you realize that 'is' wasn't a typo at all. 'is'  was Osamu's attempt at making a plural of I.
Standing in the doorway was the Osamu who knew and loved.  Board look slumped shoulders with hands stuffed in the pocket of the sweats he taken to wearing more often. Beside him was another man, more specifically another him. This Osamu was smirking in the same way Osamu still did from time to time, smug and relaxed, and stood a little straighter. Maybe even a little taller?  He dressed in black sort and jeans, like a uniform of some sort, that is close not his broads body.
"Well, aren't ya goin' to invite in sweetheart?" the other Osamu asks and you move aside.
When the door clicks shut it also clicks for you who exactly this Osamu is. who he has to be. You follow behind the present Osama down the small hallway that opens up into the rest of your apartment.  Older Osamu makes a b-line to your window to close the blinds while the other plops himself down on your couch making himself right at home leaning back and spreading his legs. if this was any other situation would have taken that as an open invitation to crawl onto his lap. Taking notice of the you-sized spot between his legs you also notice how the pair of sweats he wore were looking quite dingy. You wonder if he was heading into one of those weeks again where he barely slept, barely took care of himself, and stressed ate all your snacks. mid-terms week was definitely the kind of week where it would happen.
You give him that soft look but don't ask if he's been taking care of himself instead you ask, "He's for the future isn't he?"
Osamu nods seeming to not catch on the look or choosing to ignore it. "That's the weird thing that happened. He just sort of appeared."
The amazement that time travel existed and proof of that had now walk back over to stand in front of you right in front of you didn't cross your mind at first. What was crossing your mind was a series of questions.  It takes the rest of your body a minute to catch up to these racing questions and actually speak one out.
"We're still together right?"
Older Osamu's  laugh answers your question but he tells you anyway," I wouldn't be here if we weren't."
"And how exactly do we get you to from here back to where you belong, in the future."
"Tryin' to get rid of me already?" he cocks his head to the side teasing you. You look between present and future Osamu and find that neither seems bothered by the timeline consequences the older being here has. but hey guess that's anxiety for you.
"No, but why are you here? How are you here? How do we get you back so we don't fuck up the timeline?" you blurt out one question after the other to older Osamu and he just stands in front of you, thick arms crossing over his broad chest letting you get them all out.
The fact that neither of them seems to fully grasp the gravity of the situation infuriates you. "How are you two not freaking out about this?"
"Because one way or another he goes back after what happens tonight.”
you give the present version a questionable look. They definitely knew something that you didn't and weren't talking about it yet. "you two know something. What happens tonight?"
Instead of the present Osamu explaining, his older self tells you. "I don't really know how I get back but I do because he's still here," he points to himself," and I'm still for the future, a better version because of what happens tonight."
You don't miss the way his voice drops or how you notice him towering over you. You just try to focus on what they aren't telling you.
"What happens tonight?"  you repeat the question.
"I show my past self how much better he can be," The older Osamu explains but it still leaves out the answer you looking for.
The order Osamu goes on," You know I was at a pretty low point at this time in my life. I didn't think that I was ever goin' to amount to anything. I would always be a stick in my twin's shadow, I'd be the less attractive twin, I'd always be dealin' with some bad patch of acne or my clothes were never goin' fit right,  I'd always be sad like this. I never deserve you-"
"Ok," you cut him off. "Ok, I get it."
"He's not wrong ya know," you look over at the couch.
"I know... it's just hard to hear," you admit feeling guilty and ashamed for doing so. You want to be here for Osamu. You knew what he was going through since his twin got scouted for a pro team and you knew that you \ but that didn't make hearing how Osamu thought about himself anymore easy to hear. You were human. You loved Osamu. And sometimes it was hard to hear about problems of his that you didn't know how to make better.
"But that changes tonight. After tonight I get help, start seein’ a therapist.  I start plannin’ for a future instead of being convinced that I don’t have one. I start to rub the amazing relationship I have with you in my twin's face. I start to learn to stop hatin’ my body for changing," The order supplies.
you frown. "But what happens tonight?"
Older Osamu leaned in closer to you, very close. So close that you can feel his breath rolls off your skin as he tells you, "Tonight I show my younger self how good he's gonna  be able to fuck you in the near future ."
Well, damn. You weren’t expecting that. Mabey something a little closer to a heartfelt talk that would help Osamu out at this point of his life. This wasn’t to say that you were opposed to the idea. In fact, taking another look at the older version of your boyfriend, you were very ok with letting him rail you while the other watched. But someone about it felt wrong? More specifically it made you feel like it was something wrong.
The way the idea settles in your gut makes you turn your head slightly to look at the present version who’s still seated at the couch but sitting up a little straighter now.  Anxiously and hopefully waiting for your answer.
“Are you sure?”
He nods then adds, “But only if you want to.”
You very much want to, it’s just….” Would this even count as cheating or like being with someone else?”
The older Osamu chuckles putting his knuckles under your chin and guiding your face back to his. “Darlin’ we’re the same person.”
That seems to settle your nerves and you nod. “Ok then. Show us.”
A smile breaks out across the order’s face. His other arms loops around your waist pulling you fully into his broad frame. “That’s my girl.”
The older Osamu tastes just the same as the present. The only difference is that he’s a lot less shy about using his tongue. Hell, he’s a lot less shy about using his whole body, and you honestly love it. The more that older Osamu explores your mouth with his, the harder you can feel him getting in his pants. Pulled so tightly against him means that you can feel every little twitch his cock gives in reaction to every little noise you’re able to make. Eventually, you two have to pull away for air. Dizzy with lips swollen you rest your cheek against the order’s heaving chest and look at to the younger who is staring at you like he’s start stuck. It’s cute.
“See,” The older tells his younger self. “Look how dizzy you can make her when you aren’t second-guessing everything.”
If the older was going to be bold, then so were you. You smooth a hand down his stomach, past his belt buckle and grip and the budge below it.  All the while not taking your eyes off the present version of your boyfriend. This earns you a sharp intake of air from the older that comes out on a pleased exhale. “And don’t think for a minute that she doesn’t want all of you. Right darlin'? Look at you already tryin' to get at my cock.”
“You’re already hard.”
He nods. “And all for you.  All’ve ya done is be your pretty little self and I’m already achin’ for ya.”
You squeeze your thighs together. You love to be dotted on by Osamu. You had realized early on that you definitely had a praise kink but only when it came to Osamu.  With gentle hands, Osamu turns to the body so that you’re facing the present version.  A firm hold on your arms holds you in place as a hot mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck in just the right spots to keep you feeling light-headed. Those hands eventually move. Snaking up too to grope at your titis through your sweatshirt.  You go to squeeze your thighs together again, but suddenly there’s one less hand on your breast and a hand forcing your thighs apart.
“When she does that, squeeze her thighs together like that,  it means she’s getting riled up,” The older explains while pressing fingers into your clothes clit and rubbing at it causing you to squirm slightly. “Why don’t we show him how wet you are darlin’?”
You simply nod because you want to see too. You can feel how arousal that's collected between your folds, but you've never gotten wet so fast before. Osamu gives you a little kiss on the cheek and helps you slip out of your legging and underwear leaving you bare from the waist down.  You shiver both from your heated skin being exposed to the cool air of your apartment and the way that Osamu is staring from his spot on the couch/ The intensity of that look never fails to go straight to your groin.
One of older Osamu's hands dips between your spread thigh pushing through your folds. His fingers are a little rougher and that small difference feels so good. His fingers rub back and forth a few times, collecting your wetness as they go, before pulling them easy much to your dismay.
The older Osamu holds them up so that both you and his present self can see the strings of slick at connecting one digital to the other.
"Fuck," You both breathe.
Beyond the fingers, you can see Osamu relaxing into the couch and palming the crotch of his sweats
"'Samu, "You wine at both the older for him to touch you more and at the sight of the present touching himself.
"Aww,  you want me to keep touching you down there darlin'?" the older coos into your year.
"Please," You ask nicely not feeling the least bit ashamed since both you and the present Osamu seem to want exactly that.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head darlin',"  you feel warm hands slip up your sweatshirt.  "I'm gonna touch you plenty.  I can barely keep my hands off ya as is, but I wanna give my younger self a good view of how we make your body feel. So come off with the sweatshirt."
You do exactly as you told and strip out of your sweatshirt. You'd do anything to feel his fingers again. Osamu goes back to massaging your tits again, this time playfully rubbing your perk nippled between his fingers. Either Osamu wasn't telling you now you or at some point in the future, he loves playing with your boobs. You're only complaint was that he wasn't paying enough attention to the rest, more needing, parts of your body.
"Osamu, please~" you beg.
"See how easy it is to get her so needy?'
"Yea," the present Osamu nods his head stuffing a hand down his sweats.
"She just loves our touch that much. Right now if you were to ask she'd beg you to touch her, to fuck her, to do anything really, as long as it's us doing it,"  The older Osamu nudged your cheek with his nose making you crane your neck so that your lips are almost touching. " She's such a slutty little girl, " he says lower, "but she's our slutty girl, and we fucking love it."
Osamu's mouth is on yours again and there are fingers that aren't just rubbing your clit but now slipping inside. You moan into the older's mouth and buck your hips grinding against his hands.  You hear a low curse from the present Osamu.
"Well, shit you look like your dick's about to explode there. You're about to cum but you're trying to make it last because you can't last very long  after the first time can't ya."
A frustrated groan escapes the present Osamu's lips. He has the waistband of his sweats pulled down past his hips and his hand gripping the base of his flushed cock.  He looked just about as lost in pleasure as you but had retained some sense of himself to pay attention so that he can learn how to make you feel this good in the future.
"Don't fret though because you're going to be able to go for rounds. Y/N can barely keep up in the future. I usually leave her so fucked out by the end of the night, but I make sure to take good care of her. Treat her to a nice bath and some home-cooked food in bed after I wreck her cunt. "
"O-Osamu," the name tumbles out as your breath quickens, everything that hen man was doing and describing to his younger self was so fucking hot and heavenly sounding.
"Holy fuck."
"Right? See what you can do when you start the impossible is possible? " he then addresses you. "You want more darlin'?"
"Please~"
"holy fuck Y/N," the present Osamu moans slowly stroking  himself, "you sound so fucking good right now darlin'."
"That's what we love to hear," the older Osamu purrs. His hands leave your body but only for a moment to he unbuckles his pants and pull his dick free giving it a few pumps.  Then they're on you again, grabbing your hips and lifting you up just enough that you stand on your tippy-toes.
"Now I'm gonna need to you stay just like that and keep squeezing those pretty thighs together. Can ya do that for us, darlin'?"
when he uses that nickname in that pitch of voice? It was a power that the present Osamu didn't realize he had yet, and god helps you the day that he did because you would do just about anything when he say's 'darlin' like that. you nod your yea with a little 'yes' and you feel the older's hands move to a firm grip on your elbows.
When he roughly pulls you into him your eyes go wild. This was new. The older Osamu's thick cock slips in and out from between your thigh, each thrust making your whole body jolt.  Each time his hips meet the blunt head of his dick slips slang you slit and bumps against your slit making you see stars. All the while the present Osamu watches completely enthralled by the sight of his older self fucking your thighs. The way you titis are bouncing with every thrust, the way his older self is handing you like some treasured fuck toy, and those breathless moans you don't hold back, that's what he wants. He wants to be able to fuck you like that. He wants to be the only one to be able to make you feel the way you feeling right now. He just never thought he could until now. 
"Does it feel good darlin'?  The tip of my fat cock rubbing you like this?"
"y-yes!", answer as he paces quickens.
"Are you gonna cum like this? From me fucking your thighs while my younger self watches?"
you nod vigorously, the feeling of orgasm quickly building in your gut each time the tip of his dick meets your clit. You squeeze your thighs tighter your head lulls back when it finally washes over you.  
"Shit," Osamu curses in your ear as his hips sputter and he spills his cum between your thighs, "Shit, that's it darlin' keep squeezin' round me like that. Don't she look so cute?"
"You haven't even fucked her yet," the present Osamu comments making the older chuckles
"You ready to watch that?”
"God yes," Osamu breaths out looking so desperate to watch you get railed by his older self that it's downright adorable.
The older Osamu chuckles. He handles you like you don't weigh a thing to him lifting you up and laying you back down at the end of the bed. The way the couch is facing the present Osamu has a perfect side view of the two of you. You set yourself up on your elbows when the older steps away. He doesn't bother stripping, he simply pulled his tee-shirt over his head and pushed his jeans down a little more.
"Oh god," You moan because holy fuck you have never wanted Osamu as bad as you wanted him now. He stands to at the foot of your had hands on his hips and a lopsided smirk letting you admire him in what wasn't even his full glory.
This thing that really gets you is how much Osamu hasn't, or in this cane won't change. His body was mostly the same. There's some muscles mass you could see in his forearm, chest, and the way that he manhandles you. His tits are still nice and supple, just begging for you to leave hickies on, and a faint patch of hair grows along his sternum. Your eyes roam across his soft tummy that has the faintest outline of abs the closer you look. Following his thicker trail of hair below his navel leads to his erect cock standing tall and as proud as he is that’s glistening under the soft light in your wetness.
"See," he glances at his younger self and his voice softens. "She really does love us and our body. Every last bit of it. Even on the day when we don't."
He then turns back to you," Now are you ready for me to fuck you darlin'?"
"Yes," you answer and spread your legs that are dangling off the foot of your bed a little wider to accommodate him.
When Osamu pushes into you there's a familiar burn of yourself stretching around him. The older takes things slowly so that you feel every inch of him entering you. Once he's bottom out in you Osamu takes your legs and wraps that around his waist. 
Osamu's pace starts out slow and deep but doesn't stay this way for long. Soon your small apparent is filled with all sorts of lewd sounds. The loudest of which was the dull slaps of skin and squelching every time he thrusts back into you. They barely cover your breathless moans and high pitch whimpers. Both Osamu's are also being quite vocal. The present Osamu is cursing again as he bucks his hip and cums into his closed fist. Meanwhile, the older Osamu is grunting, jacking hammering into you.  You can barely keep up with the brutal pace the older's set. All that you can really do at this point is grab and claw at his shoulders for something to hang on to for dear life too.
"Oh fuck. Oh, fuck Dalrin' you're gonna make me cum. Yer just suckin' me in a like that- shit! cummin'! I'm cummin' Y/N," Osamu moans burying himself as deep as he can inside you and flooding you with his release. 
 Feeling yourself being filled with Osamu's cum pushes you over the edge.  Your walls flutters around his dick and thighs shake around his hips as you cum.
The order barely gives you time to catch your breath before he's calling for his younger self to switch places with him. The present Osamu is on his feet in an instant stripping out of his clothes on his way to you.  The other Osamu moves aside, setting down on the couch and relaxing his arms across the back of it.  He doesn't even bother to tuck his flaccid  cock back into his jeans or fix his shirt. He smiles at the scene before him.
Osamu is hunched over you so you can wrap your arms around his neck and pull him that much closer to you as he fucks you. Like his older self, the pace is fast and deep. You can try and buck your hips but they aren't in sync with his thrusts. The mess, the disorganized movements of the two of you make things hotter, more intense. You're cumming again with a pleasured sob and Osamu continues to fuck you through it reaching his own high.
And he doesn't stop. Your present boyfriend keeps his feet planted on the floor and keeps fucking into even when his cum is being to seep out of your stuffed hole. He pulls away just enough so that he can see your flushed and sweaty face that he cups in his hands. 
"One more yea"
your jaw trembles and the only words you can get out are incoherent so you nod. 
 A tired smile breaks out across his face. "That's my girl. Gonna make you f-feel so good. I'm going to make sure you always feel this good.  gonna stuff you so full of my cum~"
You cum right along with Osamu, letting out a silent scream to fucked to do anything else. You can feel his whole body shudder as he pulls out of you. You immediately feel a mixture of you, him, and maybe even his future self leak out of your spent cunt.  You feel him move you up the bed so that you can catch your breath while fully laying in your own bed with Osamu cuddled up next to you.
"Darlin'."
"Hmmm?" you hum eyes still closed.
"He's gone."
You peak an eye open and sure enough, the couch was empty now. You were too tired to really think about where the older Osamsua had gone but somewhere in your mind was the assumption that he went back to his own timeline in the future.
"Too tired and icky to care."
You feel fingers thread themself through you and massage your scalp. you lean into Osamu's touch and you're fully content to just lay here in the mess the two of them had made of you for the rest of the night.
"How about I run you a nice bath and we get cleaned up hmm? We can go back to my place and worry about your sheets tomorrow. "
"Will you cook for me?"
"Whatever ya want darlin'." 
 A few years down the road Osamu bursts into the apartment that you two share scaring the living hell out of you. "Fuck! Don't burst in like that."
"Sorry," he apologizes kicking off his shoes. "But it happened It finally happened."
"What happened?"
He strides over to the couch where you had been working on to laptop but set it aside and pulls you into his lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck and you can feel his wide smile on your skin. "That night during Junior year."
"We had lots of nights Junior.  Give me more than that." you request already thinking of your favorite nights spent with Osamu rather it was making an all-night drive just to watch the sunrise, nights where you went out in a group of friends and went home wearing his shoes or being carried on his back,  nights spent in eating his cooking, nights spent with his dick plugged into you...
"I made love to you while I watch."
"Ah that night," you smile, "The details are a little fuzzy, Mabey you can help job my memory after dinner with the team tonight?"
His arms tightened around your waist, "Oh, gladly darlin'."
more  my Haijyuu fics can be found here: Haikyuu collection
86 notes · View notes
writethelifeyouwant · 4 years ago
Text
Meet the Parents
Tumblr media
Pairing: Cordell x Trevor x Stella 
Rating: 18+
Summary: When Stella brings her boyfriend home from college to stay the weekend, they are planning on doing a bit more than just “spending the night together”... and it certainly turns out to be more than that once Cordell overhears them in Stella’s room.  
Word Count: 4.7k
Created for: @walker-bingo​ Free Space | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ Meet the Parents/Family
Tags/Warnings: Incest, Father/Daughter Incest, Threesome, fingering (f and m rec), oral (f rec), rimming, instruction kink, daddy kink, p in v, p in a, condoms, creampie 
A/N: I’m going to hell, please come keep me company. 
Tumblr media
Stella had gotten back from college earlier that afternoon, usual bag of laundry in tow, but she had some extra baggage this time - the boyfriend. Cordell has heard whispers of ‘the boyfriend’ from August, who spoke to his sister a little more regularly than he did, not surprisingly. No eighteen year-old fresh out of their parents’ house wants to be texting their father 24/7, but he would have appreciated some kind of heads up that they were expecting company for the weekend. 
Cordell’s sitting in the den, bourbon in hand, listening to the crickets outside chattering away, but they aren’t quite loud enough to drown out the soft giggles and whispers that are leaking from Stella’s room right now. He feels his hand clench around his glass almost like it’s a phantom limb, everything feels numb except for his ears, burning with the strain of trying to listen to what Stella and Trevor might be saying. He’s confident that whatever it is they are talking about, he doesn’t actually want to overhear the conversation. 
Draining the remainder of his drink, Cordell makes his way to the counter to pour a refill. 
He wasn’t going to bed until he knew for a fact that everyone else had gone to sleep, and from the sounds of it, Trevor and Stella weren’t exactly close to settling in. There’s a short burst of laughter and a ‘shh’, and Cordell looks up at his daughter’s closed bedroom door, moodily. 
His mind flashes back to his baby girl sneaking into the kitchen an hour ago, small pyjama shorts riding up far too high, clearly rooting through the fridge for some beers to sneak back to her room. She’d jumped when Cordell cleared his throat behind her, sitting forwards from his spot on the couch, so the light of the refrigerator caught on his stern face. 
“Whatcha doin’ there, Stella Blue?” 
“Hi, Dad,” she squeaks, tucking her hands behind her in the fridge. “Just, um,” she scrambles for something out of sight, “grabbing this.” Stella pulls a soda from behind her back. 
“Really?” Cordell smirks, not angry, he’d been expecting something like this - that’s why he was up and sitting on the couch, waiting. “Caffeine? At this hour?” Even August, teenage boy obsessed with the internet that he is, had turned out his lights and gone to bed a little while ago. 
“I - uh…” Stella grimaces. 
“Why don’t you put that back, Stels?” He feels his lips tighten and brows furrow in his best attempt at ‘stern dad’ without looking angry. For a moment, Stella looks like she’s going to argue but then she thinks better of it, puts away the soda, and slinks back to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. 
Another giggle breaks him from his reverie and his hand closes into a fist against the cold granite counter, fighting the urge to knock and tell them to go to bed. He downs the new measure of bourbon he’s just poured out, desperately wishing he could erase some of the things he’s heard tonight. But the alcohol and the burning in his throat do nothing to block out the soft groan that slips from beneath his daughter’s door. 
It was so quiet, he isn’t positive he’d heard it. And his Ranger brain kicks in, trying to find any possible explanation for what the noise could have been; the wind outside, an animal in the ranch paddock… the creak of a bed spring. That is definitely what the new sound he’s just heard is – a muffled squeak as bodies shift on a too old mattress and less than well-oiled box spring. It’s quickly followed by another quiet groan, and Cordell grits his teeth and takes a long swig of bourbon, foregoing the formality of pouring it into the glass first. 
The bottle is halfway to his lips again when he hears a small, high-pitched whine – Stella’s – but something seems … off. Cordell has known his baby girl for eighteen years. He knows what she sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she’s hurt. There’s another small whimper and Cordell strains to hear better. He needs to be sure. The third time he hears it he’s certain. That’s not a happy sound coming from his daughter’s bedroom, it’s one of discomfort, one of pain. Cordell bursts through the door in a fury, already rolling up his sleeves in preparation for tearing this Trevor kid in two for hurting his baby girl. 
“Aah, Dad!” Stella screams, pulling her pyjama top back down to cover her exposed breasts and yanking Trevor’s hand out of her shorts. Cordell stops dead, unprepared for the shock that it is seeing Stella splayed out on her bed, chest bare and trembling, and her boyfriend’s fingers between her legs. In his burning rage he also feels a flare of desire distracting enough to delay him wringing Trevor’s neck. 
Trevor is very carefully trying to shift away from Stella in the bed, like Cordell is less likely to beat him up if he increases the distance between himself and his daughter, and the movement draws Cordell’s attention back to the boy – the very naked boy – in his daughter’s bed.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cordell hisses, finding the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so August doesn’t walk by and see what’s happening inside. “You think you can come into my house, force yourself on my daughter? Boy, I learned how to castrate bulls when I was ten. What do you think I’m about to do with you, huh?” Trevor is frozen in terror, boner now completely limp, his cock retreating like a turtle into its shell. 
“Dad, no!” Stella exclaims, pulling a blanket over Trevor to cover his modesty. 
“Stella, don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna let this piece of scum touch you ever again,” Cordell promises, storming towards the pair on the bed. 
“No, Daddy,” she tries again, standing up to put herself between Cordell and Trevor. “Stop. He wasn’t forcing me! I wanted it.” Cordell stops short, looking down at Stella, who has her hands pressing against his chest in an effort to calm him. “I –” Stella swallows nervously, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I wanted this. That’s why I asked him to come stay this weekend, we wanted to, y’know…” she can’t get the words out. “Don’t hurt him, he wasn’t forcing me.” 
“But,” Cordell’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Stella is standing here in front of him telling him she planned to lose her virginity this weekend, “Stels, I heard you. You sounded like he was hurting you.”
“I would never hurt her,” Trevor shoots up in the bed, angrily, but cows under Cordell’s glare, “um, sir,” he finishes lamely. 
“Stella,” Cordell sits her down on the end of her bed and drops to one knee in front of her. He brushes her long red hair off her face, cupping her cheek gently, and focusing on her soft blue eyes, shimmering with nerves. “I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Was he hurting you?” 
Stella shakes her head immediately but takes a moment to find her words, Cordell can tell she’s holding something back. “No,” she finally starts, “not, um, not on purpose.” 
“What?” Trevor and Cordell speak simultaneously and equally confused. 
“It.. he, um, he didn’t hurt me Dad,” Stella is stronger in her conviction now, “it just,” she grimaces, stalling. Cordell finally understands. 
“He wasn’t very good, was he?” Cordell grimaces in sympathy, and a little amusement at Trevor’s expense. Stella shakes her head ever so slightly, and Cordell laughs. Trevor is sitting in an embarrassed silence behind them, clutching the blanket in his lap. Cordell stands, brushing a hand down the back of Stella’s head as he rounds on the boy. “You ever touched a girl before, Trevor?”
“Yes,” he answers indignantly. 
“You ever made a girl cum before?” Cordell is a little taken aback by his own bluntness, but he supposes the seven or eight shots of liquor he’s had over the past hour must be fogging his brain a little. 
“Yes,” Trevor answers again, but his doubt is evident. 
“You don’t sound too sure about that, son,” Cordell pokes, standing over him now, arms crossing over his chest. Trevor tries to stutter out an answer but he doesn’t manage any actual words. “From where I was standing, it sounds like you could use a few lessons,” Cordell smirks knowingly. 
“Dad, leave him alone,” Stella objects, climbing back up the bed to Trevor’s side. 
“What?” he feigns innocence, smiling. “I’m just looking out for my baby girl. Can’t have you getting hurt, even by accident.” 
“Dad,” she whines again, burying her head in Trevor’s shoulder. 
“Plus,” Cordell kneels again, putting himself back on their level, “what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t make sure you were being taken good care of?” Both teens are clearly not sure what they’re supposed to say to that. Cordell takes advantage of their silence and sits on the edge of the bed, and Trevor recoils slightly into Stella’s arms, which are wrapped around his waist. “So,” Cordell brings his hand up to Trevor’s face and brushes a curl behind his ear, keeping eye contact with the boy as he speaks, “he a good kisser, Stels? Or is he useless at that too?”
“Yeah – no – he’s… he’s a good kisser, Daddy,” Stella blushes, her answers given in an almost trance-like state. 
“Well, let’s find out,” and he leans forward to kiss the younger boy, hand still in his curly brown hair. 
Tumblr media
Their lips meet hesitantly, like Cordell is waiting for Trevor to pull away, and Trevor is waiting for Cordell to tell him this whole thing is a joke, but now they are kissing softly – like you would at the end of a first date, when you still need to find out what they like. Stella’s cheeks burn as she watches her father kiss her boyfriend gently, surprised by the surge of arousal she feels pulsing through her at the sight. She knows what Trevor’s lips feel like against hers, soft and wet and insistent, and she wonders if they feel the same to her daddy. They break apart with sharp gasps, and Cordell’s eyes flick to hers, glinting in the low light. 
“Well, at least I know he’s been showing you a good time so far, baby girl,” he smirks at her, and Stella nods gingerly. “C’mere, sweetie,” Cordell motions her forwards, and she goes willingly, not knowing what he was planning to do but wanting desperately to find out. “Kiss her,” he breathes at Trevor, and the boy listens, leaning forwards and drawing Stella into him. 
Trevor’s kiss overwhelms her, and Stella melts against his bare chest. His kiss is familiar and warm, but the hand against her back is new. It’s larger, rougher, and it curls into her skin more possessively than Trevor’s fingers ever had. Stella moans into Trevor’s lips, letting his tongue wrap around hers, and her daddy’s fingers twist into the hair on the back of her head. 
“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers against her ear, and Stella whimpers, this time very clearly from pleasure and not discomfort. The hand against her back pushes down, and Stella follows, straddling Trevor and laying down over him, tangling their hands together on the pillow by his head. As they continue to kiss and grind, she feels Trevor’s erection through the thin cotton of her shorts. Pleased that she can feel his reaction to her, she rubs over him eagerly – and her daddy must have noticed, because his hand drags down her back and lands on her hip, encouraging her grinding. 
Trevor moans and ruts up between her legs, and the pressure there against her core feels amazing. “Shit,” Trevor groans into her lips. 
“She gettin’ wet yet?” Stella whines in embarrassment and arousal at her daddy’s words. 
“Yeah,” Trevor pants from beneath her, “can feel it, even through her shorts.” Stella hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, but can’t stop herself rubbing against the hard member between her thighs. 
“Fuck,” Cordell is smirking, Stella can hear it in his voice. “You must be soaking, baby girl.”
“Mmhmm,” Stella’s voice is muffled in the pillow, but  she doesn’t want to pick up her head and reveal just how much her daddy’s words are turning her on. 
“Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby,” Cordell’s fingers ghost over her bottom, drawing dangerously close to the wet patch that is clearly visible on her little shorts. “You wanna taste her, son? Get your first good lick of pussy?” Trevor’s groan answers him. “Roll over, Stels, on your back, honey.” Stella lets her father’s hands push her off of Trevor and onto the bed.
Tumblr media
“Get those clothes off her,” Cordell commands Trevor, and he eagerly complies, reaching out to pull Stella’s shorts down her slim, pale legs, stretched out beneath him, cradled in the sheets. She pulls her own top over her head, small perky breasts slipping free, and Cordell can’t take his eyes off them. Fuck, his baby girl has grown up so fuckin’ pretty. “Spread your legs for us, baby.” He puts his hand on one of her thighs and encourages them to part, revealing her glistening core. “Now, hands and knees, boy, c’mon,” he spins his finger in the air, indicating Trevor needs to turn himself around and get between Stella’s legs. 
The boy climbs to the space where Cordell wants him and settles on his hands and knees, staring at the spot between Stella’s thighs where he clearly wants to be, but keeping still, because he hasn’t been told to do anything else yet. Cordell hops off the bed and quickly unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on the floor, where it’s joined shortly by his belt and pants. He crawls back onto the bed behind Trevor, and smooths a large, calloused hand up his thigh and over his ass. 
“You strike me as more of a ‘hands on learner’, buddy. That true?” 
“Yes, Sir,” Trevor nods, hoping that’s the answer Cordell was looking for. 
“Good. Then I’m gonna show you everything you’ve gotta do to make my little girl cum for you. You want that?” 
“Yes,” the boy answers eagerly. 
“You’ve just gotta follow my lead, do everything I do, okay?” 
“Mm-hmm.” Another nod, and then a shocked gasp, as Cordell leans down and runs his tongue up the seam of Trevor’s ass, right over his hole. He does it again, the same simple motion, one lick bottom to top, and Trevor groans, shuddering beneath him. 
“I thought I told you to do everything I do?” Cordell huffs when he draws back and sees Trevor’s head hanging limply between his shoulders. “Don’t leave my baby waiting.” He doesn’t move back to his task until he sees Trevor dip his head and drag his tongue over Stella’s entrance, and up to the small bundle of nerves at its peak. Stella almost squeals, hands rushing to clutch in the boy’s curls and make him stay there between her legs. He licks against her again and she whines, high and desperate. 
“Daddy…” she whimpers, tossing her head back. 
“You’re doing so good, baby girl.” Cordell brushes the hair out of her eyes, which are currently squeezed closed in pleasure. “Look so pretty… all spread out for us – doesn’t she?” 
“Mmm,” Trevor hums against Stella, his tongue still drawing its lines up and down her core. Cordell grins behind him, happy he’s not taking his mind off the task at hand. Stella’s breathing is sharp and quick, still not familiar with the sensation of having a tongue playing with her pussy, and he’s about to teach Trevor some more tricks to make her squirm. 
Cordell draws his tongue flat along Trevor’s hole, laving at the expanse of skin beneath it as well. The chain reaction of moans from Trevor and then Stella tells him that Trevor has copied his movement over Stella’s entrance. He quickly changes tact and traces the tip of his tongue in small circles right over Trevor’s hole, making it flutter and twitch, then soothing it with longer licks. “You feel what I’m doing to you?” Cordell hums into Trevor’s skin, and the boy moans in affirmation. “Do that right over her clit, nice and light— there ya go,” Stella keens across her daddy’s instructions, making him smile. “Now go ahead and give it a nice hard suck, and keep your tongue moving, just like that, yeah,” Cordell strokes his hand over Trevor’s back as he continues to build Stella closer and closer to her orgasm. 
Stella’s hands are gripping the quilt beneath her like she’s about to fall off a cliff and that’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. Her daddy moves up to her side, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together, so she can hang on to him instead. She turns and buries her face in Cordell’s side, while still pushing her hips harder into her boyfriend’s mouth, whimpering in pleasure. Cordell draws soothing circles over the back of her hand as she clutches him even tighter. 
“You need to cum, baby girl?” He keeps his voice soothing, and steady. Stella nods into his side. “Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes the hair back from her face, so he can watch her expression. “Okay son, want you to take your finger and push the tip inside her, just a little bit.” Trevor doesn’t make an audible response, but Cordell can tell when he does it because Stella’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his leg. “Alright, now work it deeper, go real slow for me.” He sees Trevor’s arm start to push in and out of his little girl. “There’s a spot you want to find, if you move your finger along the top…” and after a moment Stella moans, deep and full. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it, baby girl?” Stella whines and answers by bucking her hips down into Trevor’s finger. “Okay keep rubbing against it like that, and get your mouth back on her —” another moan from Stella “— now a little faster —”
“Oh my god,” Stella is close to sobbing with the pleasure, now. “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Cordell can’t help the smirk that splits his face when he hears Stella begging him, not Trevor, to make her cum. 
“Go ahead and cum Stels,” he squeezes her hand. “Be my good girl, cum for Daddy now, c’mon.” 
“Daddy!” She squeals as her body convulses, then stiffens, back arching off the bed in a graceful curve that pushes the pale flesh of her breasts right towards Cordell’s face, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss one nipple, gently. 
“Good girl, Stels,” he strokes his big hand down her belly, which is still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Did so, so good for me, baby girl.” When Stella can finally peel her eyes open, and they find her daddy’s face above her, her smile is blinding, if a little dazed. 
“Fuck, that was hot, baby,” Trevor groans, reaching down to stroke himself. 
“Now, please, tell me you two have protection around here somewhere.” Cordell goes to the bedside drawer where Stella’s pointing, telling himself that it’s a good thing his baby girl was keeping condoms on hand. He finds the packet in the drawer, grabbing two, and luckily finds a small bottle of lube, too, which he brings back to the bed with him. He stalwartly does not think about the hint of bright pink he uncovered in his searching that was most definitely a dildo, lodged beside an open packet of birth control pills. 
“You ready to start the real work, son?” 
“Yes, Sir,” the boy groans, shuffling his knees closer to Stella, still between her legs. 
“Woah there partner, not so fast,” Cordell grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down to his hands and knees, ass in the air. “Gotta get you both ready first. You’re gonna follow my lead again, yeah?” Trevor hums an affirmative response. 
Cordell grabs the lube and gets some on his fingers, before tossing the bottle back to the covers. He brings one wet finger to the entrance winking up at him, and traces his fingertip up and down the seam, spreading the lube around before he pushes lightly against the opening, testing its give. It takes a moment for Trevor to relax, but Cordell gets the tip of his finger in eventually. “You gotta relax, boy, let me in. Focus on your girl there, you’re here to make her feel good, yeah?” He sees his curls bounce up and down as Trevor nods and brings his hand back to Stella’s pussy, drawing his finger through her slick before he pushes his middle finger in. 
Cordell continues to pump his first finger in and out of Trevor’s ass, feeling the boy loosening around him, until he’s ready for another finger. He pulls out and adds more lube, before bringing the digits back and pushing two slowly but firmly back in. “Start to stretch her out now, add another finger in.” Stella whimpers when Trevor draws out and re-enters her with two fingers this time. 
“Feel good darlin’?” Stella nods, locking eyes with her daddy. “I bet she’s nice and tight, ain’t she, son?”
“Yes, Sir,” Trevor pants, forehead resting against his left forearm. He seems to really be enjoying Cordell’s fingers in his ass. “She’s so fuckin’ tight. F-feels good.” 
“Try to fit another finger in there, stretch that pussy out real good f’me.” Cordell punctuates his statement by adding more lube and a third finger into Trevor’s opening, and the boy can’t contain his groan of pleasure at the thicker intrusion. 
“Fuck,” he moans, pushing a three fingers into Stella, who is dripping enough to make a spot on the sheets beneath her. She lets out an answering moan and bucks her hips up into Trevor’s hand. 
“Oh, looks like someone’s getting a little greedy, huh baby?” Cordell smirks down at his daughter, writhing on the bed, hair splayed out around her like a wreath of flames. She whines at him in response, pushing down into the fingers inside her again. “You think you’re ready for a cock, baby girl? Want your boyfriend to fill up that slutty little hole you got there?”
“Yes, Daddy, please,” she mewls, thrusting her hips again. 
“What about you, huh? Think you’re ready f’my cock?” Cordell chooses his moment well, and intentionally strokes over Trevor’s prostate when he asks the question, prompting an answering ‘fuck yes’ out of the boy. “Good answer.” 
Cordell opens one condom packet and rolls the thin barrier over Trevor’s dick for him, running the extra lube from his hand over the covered member once he’s down, then quickly rips into the second packet and rolls it on himself, before grabbing for more lube and drizzling it over himself and the tight little hole he’s about to fuck himself into. 
Trevor shifts up the bed so he’s pressed against Stella and he can run the tip of his cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against him lightly, but waits for her dad’s say so, still. Cordell ruts himself along the crack of Trevor’s ass, teasing. When the tip of his cock catches against the boy’s rim, he lets out a hiss. 
“Okay, you ready Stels?” She nods up at him. “Alright, if you need to stop you can just say, baby.” She nods again. Cordell gives Trevor a swat on the ass to indicate he should move. The muscles in his back clench as he pushes the head of his cock inside of the wet heat he’s surely been dying to get to all night. Stella’s face scrunches up as he drives himself steadily deeper inside of her, until he’s pushed in as far as he can go. Both teens let out choked moans at the feeling of finally being this wrapped up in one another. 
“Give ‘er a minute to get used to the feel of you, stay real still,” Cordell presses the head of his cock against Trevor and thrusts in shallowly, easing himself along with soft grunts, listening for any sounds of discomfort, but all he hears from the boy beneath him are small groans of pleasure. Once he’s inside, he smooths his hand up and down Trevor’s back giving him a moment to adjust as well. 
His first thrust in is shallow, but it drags the head of his cock right over Trevor’s prostate and the jolt of pleasure it sends up his body grinds him forward into Stella, drawing a moan from her. She bucks up into Trevor, forcing him deeper inside of her and simultaneously pushing him back onto her daddy’s cock. 
“That’s it, baby girl,” Cordell groans, thrusting harder into the tight heat wrapped around him, “show us how much you want it. Show us how greedy that little pussy is, sweetheart.” 
“Fuck!” Stella pants, arching into Trevor’s hips and grinding her clit against him. 
“Shit, you look so good like that darlin’. Looks so good with a cock inside her, doesn’t she?” 
“Fuck yeah. Feel so good, baby, fuck,” Trevor isn’t able to move much, being pinned between Cordell and Stella, both fucking themselves harder and harder into him, but he thrusts back against Stella with push of her daddy’s dick inside of him. Cordell’s impressed the kid’s lasted this long without busting his nut yet, considering the amount of stimulation he’s currently being subjected to, and Stella looks like she’s about to tip over the edge again along with him. He fucks into them even harder, pace quickening with each piston of his hips, and he hears Stella’s whimpers climb higher and higher as Trevor is pushed into her faster with each thrust. 
“You wanna cum again, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over that cock inside you like a good little slut? Yeah? You gonna be Daddy’s good little girl?” Cordell’s taunts push Trevor over his edge and he stutters in his pace, his ass clenching around the cock still fucking him as he cums inside Stella with a broken groan. Irritated, and on the cusp of his own orgasm, he pulls out of Trevor and throws him off of his daughter. Stella whines at the loss, and he can see her pussy clenching around the emptiness. “S’okay, baby girl, Daddy’s gotcha.” He pulls his condom off quickly and ruts his cock through Stella’s folds to ease his way when he pushes inside her. She’s so tight and warm and wet, Cordell knows he won’t last long himself, but he can wait until he’s taken care of his little girl, first. 
“Oh god, Daddy, please,” Stella moans, pressing her hips back into the cock inside her, clearly relieved to be filled up again. 
“Yeah, that’s it, honey, you fuck yourself real good on my cock. Want you to cum so hard, okay baby? Be Daddy’s perfect little slut, yeah?” Cordell lifts Stella’s ankles over his shoulders and begins a punishing pace, raking over the sweet spot inside her faster and faster on every thrust. Stella’s breath is coming in gasps so short he’s not sure she can even breathe. “C’mon baby girl, cum for your Daddy. Want you to cum for me before I fill you up. Gotta take care of you first darlin’, so c’mon, cum for me.” 
Stella turns her head into her pillow and screams her release, her whole body shaking as she cums, her walls clenching hard around the cock inside her, giving Cordell exactly what he needed to fall over the edge. He seizes up bent over Stella, her legs dropping to his sides and her arms curling around him, like he was an anchor keeping her from drifting away into nothing. A small kiss placed on her forehead, and a whisper of ‘good girl, baby’, and Cordell pulls himself out slowly, groaning at the sight of his cock laced with the white of their climaxes. He flops to the side of the bed and happily makes room for Stella when she curls into his side, drawing her fingers through the hair on his chest, seemingly lost in thought. 
“What’s on your mind, Butterbean?” Cordell asks, worriedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.  
“Just thinkin’,” she smiles serenely. 
“About…?” 
“About how I’m never bringing a boyfriend home to meet you again.”
Tumblr media
Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @sonofslaanesh69​ @walkersbabygirl​ @austin-winchester67​ 
131 notes · View notes
bahorell · 3 years ago
Text
Les Amis (& co.) and what they’re like camping
Enjolras: Is kinda scared of the woods. Also he’s that guy that really has a hard time putting his phone down because “I just have to respond to this one email”. “Yeah give me one second I’m dealing with a work thing”. “omg did you hear about what’s happening in Canada? It’s horrible those poor people” “Enj the point of this is to get away from everything for a couple days” “Right I know…”. So if there’s even one bar of service they gotta go find a different place. When he isn’t on his phone he’s very active in all his friends activities. He’s not super outdoors-y so he mostly tags along when other people do things. He’ll have Baz or Courf take him on rides on their paddle boards. He’ll tag along when Chetta and Ferre go on hikes. He’ll be Feuilly’s little helper person when Feuilly’s working on building the fire. Or he’ll just hand out with people at camp or on the beach of the lake/river and just talk.
Combeferre: Loves camping because of all the bugs and critters! Found the tiniest little frogs on the shore of the lake one time and made everybody look at them. Brings plant and animal and bug ID books with him and will take little leaves or flowers and stick them in the pages of the book when he thinks he found a match. He doesn’t usually snack too much when he’s at home but when he’s in the woods he is always eating something and it’s really when he’ll let himself just go balls to the wall with the junk food. The only thing he doesn’t really like about camping is that he doesn’t get to go on jogs in the morning because he’s smart enough to not run into the woods in the middle of nowhere with no service by himself.
Courfeyrac: Has an inflatable paddle board that he bought! He likes to play lifeguard and will paddle around to all his friends who are swimming and give them rides to shore. He likes to share his paddle board with his friends but he didn’t have enough money to buy a super super fancy one that has a large weight capacity so usually if someone else is on it with him it sinks into the water enough to stress him out. Also he shares a big tent with Combeferre and Enjolras and he likes to sleep in the middle of the two of them.
Joly: Invested in a super super cute small teardrop camping trailer a couple years ago. It’s easier for him to get in and out of than a tent or god forbid a hammock (Bahorel has to lift him into it then Joly wants to get in one… this is also partially because Bahorel sets up all the hammocks and they are p much impossible to get in unless you are also 6’7”) The inside of the camper is just a bed and the back hatch opens up to cabinets and drawers and a counter and stuff that makes a nice little make shift kitchen. He’ll set up the camp stove and the cooking area right next to it. He’s not super involved in any of the cooking it just gives him less stress when the food area is organized and the table legs are on a flat surface.
Jehan: Jehan tells the ghost stories. They aren’t very good at telling ghost stories so nobody really gets scared (except for Marius and if they’re really doing a good job Enj will get a little spooked). They also wake up with the sunrise so they’re up and ready to start the day at like 5am… and they really aren’t quiet about it so they manage to wake up 2/3 of everybody else at camp. Has more dietary needs than other people so when every one gets together to build a grocery list and meal plan for the trip they’ll make their own list. They really don’t mind because they HATE sharing snacks so having their own little baby cooler all to themselves is the best. Bousset: Somehow manages to have the most amazing balance and can get on and off Bahorel or Courf’s paddle boards like it’s nothing but when he gets in the canoe with anybody they somehow always tip it over within like 20 seconds. He is the opposite of Jehan he’ll sleep until like 2 in the afternoon if one of them doesn’t come to wake him up. He’s also usually in charge of getting all the booze together for the trip bc he’s very aware of what everyone likes to drink. He takes turns with Chetta sleeping in the trailer with Joly since not all three of them can fit. When he’s not sleeping in the tent he’s sharing a tent with Grantaire.
Feuilly: Fire guy. Loves the fire. Is always excited for the sun to go down so he can start the campfire. Will not take his eyes off the fire. I mean seriously. They once played never have I ever and when it got to be his turn they timed him to see how long it would take for him to realize it was his turn bc he was too busy staring at the fire to pay attention (it was a solid 4 minutes). Sleeps in a tiny little one person tent that would make anybody else claustrophobic but he LOVES it. He does set up a hammock right next to Bahorel’s. He doesn’t sleep in it but the two of them will take naps together in their hammocks. He also has to dowse his body in SPF 10000000000+ because he’s the whitest person ever, and somehow he still manages to get a sunburn on some part of his body.
Bahorel: He’s the guy thats super picky about the camp spot. “eh i mean this one is cool but it’s a little too close to the other campsite and I don’t wanna be that close to other people thats the point of this trip is to get away from everybody.” “This one WOULD be perfect but it doesn’t have good access to the lake so it’s gonna be hard for those of us that have boats to get down there” “Bahorel the boat ramp is like 1/8 of a kilometer away we can just walk down to that…” “i mean we COULD… but it just kinda sucks” Also Bahorel has this super nice hammock system with like a bug net and a rain tarp, he will not sleep on the ground because he is scared of bugs and also the baby boy likes getting rocked to sleep. He always follows Feuilly around when he’s looking for a place to put his tent and he’ll set up his hammock right next to him. And he WAILS to Feuilly when they get back home because his SKINCARE ROUTINE GOT MESSED UP FEUILLY OHHH MY GODDDD
Grantaire: Not super big on camping but if he’s with his friends he’s having fun. There’s something about being in the woods that makes him quiet… but not in a sad way. He feels really peaceful when he isn’t dealing with a bunch of people in a big city (Even tho he loves the city). He always brings stuff so that he can draw or paint the mountains or his friends on the lake but he usually doesn’t get enough time to really make anything more than a sketch. He’s not scared of water but he avoids going in the lake if it’s not a part of it that’s deeper than his tummy. He won’t get in the boats unless there’s a lot of coaxing (usually by Enj)
Marius: LOVES being in the woods. I mean really loves it. Surprisingly it’s usually Marius that sends out the text to the group chat that’s like “hey is everybody free in a couple weekends? I wanna go camping!” He just really doesn’t like going by himself or going with just one or two people. He wakes up super early as well and usually will sit with Jehan and share coffee waiting for everybody else to wake up. Sometimes the two of them will go on a little walk together. He winds down pretty early in the evening though since he wakes up so early and is usually ready for bed by like 8:45pm. He’s also that guy that wants to eat all the berries on the bushes they walk past and has almost given Combeferre a heart attack like 7 times.  
Eponine: She’s… alright to camp with. She gets kinda grumpy in the mornings because of how cold it is but she warms up (both temperature wise, but also her mood) once she’s eaten and it’s gotten warmer out. She really just likes to lay in one of the communal hammocks and read book after book. She’ll also tag along with Gavroche on a lot of his little adventures. When she’s not with Gavroche or letting Combeferre show her all the little bugs and cool plants he found, she just sunbathes. For HOURS straight. Going camping for her is just a really long fun weekend to get her tan on.
Cosette: She’s so fun to camp with!! She’s like… the best person to camp with. She always does the planning and researches everything there is to do at and near the campsite. She knows all the hiking trails nearby and what areas have service and which ones don’t. She knows which campsites have lake/river access. She also makes the best camp coffee. It’s really the only time she drinks coffee unless it’s like… finals week or she’s got an early flight or something. She also ALWAYS has to tell her dad where they’re going. She shares her location and route with him on the drive there and texts him to let him know she’s about to lose service and texts him the second she has a bar of service. He’s just very protective and she wants to make sure that he knows she’s safe. Plus if anything DOES happen he knows where she’s going and can come save the day.
Musichetta: She sleeps like the entire time she’s camping. She’ll wake up in the morning and move from her tent or the camper and go lay in one of the communal hammocks near the fire ring and doze off with her hot chocolate… which she has spilled a couple times. Once it warms up a little she’s walk down to the lake or river and lay down, get her tan on, and take a nap. One of her favorite things is to go on hikes with Combeferre. He’s one of the only people in the group that can keep up with her. If they go with other people usually by the time they reach the end of the trail the rest of the group is about 2 miles behind them. One of the best parts of camping for her is going home and showering after not showering for like 3 or 4 days.
Gavroche: Spends the entirety of the first day trying to find the perfect tree to put the perfect swing on. He also likes to try to find any big rocks near the campsite and go bouldering and run around on top of them. He still really has that childhood curiosity about everything and no fear. He’ll run off trail trying to find deer or elk. If he doesn’t get back home with a couple scratches or bruises he doesn’t consider it a good camping trip. He also will swim out to Bahorel’s paddle board and Bahorel will grab him out of the water and throw him back in. Gavroche thinks it’s the most fun thing in the world even though he’s growing really fast and it’s taking a little bit more muscle every year for Bahorel to throw him as far as Gav wants him to.
39 notes · View notes
ruewrites · 4 years ago
Note
Hii! so i really love Dialuci and i wanted to request a fic about them. I like the 5 things + 1 thing trope but i saw that u already have a fic like that, so if you dont wanna use i understand, i just want a cute Dialuci fic bc they are adorable 💖
5 Times Diavolo Felt a Little Less Alone
AO3
Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer
Word Count: 2005
Warnings: None
A/N: Hi Anon! I’m always down for 5+1 requests! I hope you like this! I’m still getting used to writing for this ship, but I had fun!
1
Diavolo’s fingers danced along the castle walls as he gazed at the fallen Morning Star. He was more than the prince could ever wish for, to ever hope for, and he was standing right there. Well, sitting. He’d met Lucifer before, but he’d never seen him this worn. It was understandable, but still.
Gripping his nerves, Diavolo decided to approach him once more. Lucifer’s eyes swept up towards the movement and the Prince suddenly was all too aware of his heart pounding away in his chest. 
“May I take this seat?” he asked.
Lucifer was silent for a moment, then he nodded, “I suppose you can.”
He was a bit more eager than he’d like to admit at the ‘okay’. He wanted to turn the Devildom into a home for Lucifer and his brothers, to make them all feel comfortable. He wanted them to want to stay. 
Lucifer regarded him oddly, almost as if he couldn’t make out Diavolo’s intentions. Which was fair by all means. Perhaps he wasn’t setting the most appropriate of moods, but he found himself giddy at the mere thought of sitting close to the Morning Star. Even if the circumstances that brought them together once more were grim, he was still happy that he got to see him again. 
“Can I get you some tea?”
He wasn’t sure if he wanted something to calm Lucifer or his own nerves. He’d have Barbatos bring every type out that he could find. He wanted to give Lucifer the widest variety of options that he could. He wanted to give Lucifer anything that he could.
“I suppose that would be nice,” Lucifer seemed hesitant. It was understandable of course, but Diavolo was already summoning Barbatos. He was going to make the Devildom home for Lucifer. 
***
2
Diavolo loved parties. They filled the castle up with people and laughter and music. Things Diavolo wished there had been more of as he was growing up. Even so, sometimes the parties still felt lonely. Others wouldn’t address him the same way they addressed each other. It made sense, he was the Devildom’s prince. They had to treat him with respect. 
He could act like one of them.
But he couldn’t be one of them.
His fingers tightened around his glass. 
“Lord Diavolo, are you quite alright?” Lucifer was staring at him. Lucifer’s attention was on him. 
He forced a laugh and put his hand on his shoulder, “Of course! Why would I be anything other than okay?
Lucifer’s brow furrowed and his lip twitched. He didn’t believe a word that had just come out of Diavolo’s mouth. Lucifer was the eldest of his brothers and the one that kept them in line, he knew when he was being lied to.
But before he could get a word out, Diavolo was already spewing more words at him. “I mean, just look at everyone out there having a grand time! There’s nothing to be disappointed about when there’s so many smiling faces,” he said, “In fact, shouldn’t you be out there enjoying yourself too?”
Getting Diavolo to try to go back to their previous discussion would be like taking Cerberus to the vet. So Lucifer played along, for now.
“I don’t believe I will, I have a perfect vantage point of my brothers from here.”
“Vantage-?”
Diavolo glanced out to where Lucifer was nodding. The rest of the six were all in perfect view with a slight turn of the head. He shouldn’t be surprised, Lucifer always had to make sure his brothers were on his best behavior. Well, Diavolo didn’t necessarily think that Lucifer had to per say, it was something he just did. 
“So if it’s quite alright with you, I think I’m content on staying right here.”
For the first time that night, Diavolo felt himself relax and offer a genuine smile, “Of course.”
***
3
He knew it was late, but come on. Diavolo tapped the back of his D.D.D. restlessly as he listened to the line ring. Sure he could send a text, but he just wanted to hear someone else’s voice for a moment. Just a moment. Then he would be content.
He was about to hang up and redial again when a tired voice came  up on the other end of the line. 
“Diavolo? Do you have any idea what time it is?” 
Part of him felt bad when he heard Lucifer yawn on the other end of the line, but his heart also leapt at the sound of his voice. Lucifer had a strange affect on him, and Diavolo was addicted to the sensation. It filled a void that rested deep within him, and he didn’t want that space to ever be vacant again. 
“Ah, I apologize Lucifer. I just had something I wanted to tell you,” he stopped. Well, that phrase wasn’t completely a lie. He was sorry, but he didn’t have anything to say. “But it all seems to be slipping my mind right now.”
Silence flooded the other end of the line. A sigh entered his ear. “Diavolo- Send me a text when you remember then. You can always tell me to-”
“Wait.”
He could feel Lucifer hesitate. He could practically see the way his eyebrow raised, how his arms would fold if he wasn’t holding his D.D.D.  He could feel the way he analyzed him, looking for the smallest bit of truth, the tiniest give away in his being. His words died at his lips, his normal forms of begging and pleading refused to come out. 
He didn’t want to be alone.
Not right now.
Not ever.
“Please don’t go.”
His voice came out so small. It didn’t fit him. Normally his presence was powerful and captivating, but not he felt like the smallest breeze could blow him away. The ticking of his clock started to flood his mind, drawing out any other possible thought he could have had. 
Time stretched out in odd ways Diavolo couldn’t comprehend, and there was only one thing that brought him back.
“Alright, alright. I’ll stay on the line, just don’t mind if you hear snoring. Now, what do you want to tell me?”
***
4
“Oh Lucifer! Look at this!”
Humans had such odd little things, but they were also incredibly dear. Who would have thought about making tiny clothes for animals? Adorable! 
Diavolo held up a small yellow raincoat and pushed it  into Lucifer’s face, “You should see if you can get a big one for Cerberus.
“Cerberus will be fine without,” yet his eyes lingered on the small outfit for a moment too long. A smile cracked at his lips, “I do believe I know a certain chihuahua it might fit though.”
Lucifer chuckled to himself as Diavolo continued to gaze at the little treasures that decorated the walls. “Oh they even have little rain boots! It’s a shame they don’t have anything bigger. Human dogs are just so tiny.  And they don’t have nearly enough heads. They’re still just as lovable though.”
His hands moved to the bones and a frown spread across his face, “These are hardly fit for a dog.”
“On that front I agree with you. Not bloody enough.”
“Not big enough.”
“And they hardly look study.”
“It would barely function as a toothpick!”
“And no meat either.”
“It’s sad really.”
“Trully.”
The human world was different from the Devildom, very different. Diavolo could honestly say he’d never experienced something quite like it before. Everytime he thought he had it figured out something new popped out from around the corner. What made the entire thing even more wonderful was having someone to share it with.
He peered at Lucifer from the corner of his eye. Before he knew what was happening, the warmth of Lucifer's lower back was pressed against his hand. Lucifer stiffened ever so slightly. Then his muscles relieved themselves of their tension.
The Demon Prince had someone to share his experiences with.
***
5
This was an ethereal experience. It wasn’t something he could take lightly. This was a sign of trust. This was so much bigger than him, and Diavolo wasn’t about to take it lightly. Lucifer’s naked back was to him, his blackened wings stretched out before him. Diavolo felt as if he could see every breath the Morning Star took, every heartbeat drowned out the ticking of the clock. 
“Are you sure?” Diavolo wanted to give him one last chance to back out. This was something sacred and intimate, something that he knew must have Lucifer on edge. 
Lucifer’s head nodded ever so slightly, “Just remember what I told you.”
Diavolo swore he could feel his hands shaking, anxiety curled around his stomach like a serpent the closer he came to the majestic sight before him. Then the soft silky texture brushed against his finger tips. He couldn’t help but admire them as he ran his fingers along their gradient. 
Lucifer trusted him with this.
Lucifer wanted him to do this.
He could have teared up in that moment, He promised himself that he would forever hold this specific moment close to his heart.
Of course Lucifer’s wings wouldn’t preen themselves. “Tell me if I do anything wrong.”
Perhaps he’d gotten too close to Lucifer’s ear, maybe his breath had been a little too hot, maybe he shouldn’t have gazed at Lucifer’s reddening cheeks as long as he did. But he wouldn’t change it for the world. His right hand man trusted him. A man as wonderful and beautiful and radiant and intelligent as Lucifer trusted him. Diavolo was allowed into his life.
The room was dark, quiet, and safe. 
Diavolo never wanted to share anything this intimate with anyone else.
***
+1
The first thing Diavolo registered was how warm everything around him was and the fire softly crackling against the wall. Slowly his eyes peeled open and he sat up. After taking in his surroundings, he came to realize that  he’d fallen asleep at his desk. Something quite unusual for him. He grabbed at the blanket around his shoulders as questions filled his brain.
“This is quite the role reversal isn’t it?”
Ah. Lucifer. 
Diavolo hadn’t even noticed him.
A kiss was pressed against his cheek and a cup was set down onto the table. Spices immediately filled all of Diavolo’s senses flooding every corner of his head. 
“Usually you’re the one doing things for me when I’ve been at my desk for too long, and now here we are.”
Diavolo brought the cup to his lips, enjoying the warmth against his skin, “It took so much for you to allow me to spoil you.”
“Not everyone in the world is as genuine as you Diavolo, and affection isn’t something I’ve been particularly used to.” 
Lucifer’s hands soared over the desk as he started to organize various papers and documents. Honestly, at this point Lucifer was probably almost as skilled as Barbatos when it came to organizing Diavolo’s desk. Diavolo liked watching him work, it almost reminded him of a dance. Watching Lucifer was always a wonderful time, it was a treat. Perhaps domestic was the correct word.
“I believe you’ve told  me before that there’s more comfortable places to relax than a desk.”
“Like plush chairs by the fireplace?”
“I do believe you mentioned those, yes,” Lucifer took his hand and helped him up, “Join me?”
Diavolo had gotten a taste of company all those years ago, and now he constantly lived in company. His old self would be envious of what he had now. As long as he had Lucifer he wouldn’t be lonely, he’d have warm nights and bright days. There would always be a reason to make a second cup of tea or to bring two plates to the study. His things would sit next to Lucifer’s, they could have long conversations or comforting silence, and the chair next to him would never be empty. 
Finally Diavolo had someone to share his life with.
Finally life wouldn’t be lonely anymore.
84 notes · View notes
recurring-polynya · 4 years ago
Text
@iz-stardust is a lovely person and a wonderful artist and I wanted to write her a little present based on this adorable drawing she did. I hope you like it, friend!
Adventures in Babysitting | ao3 | ff.net |
Summary:  When Byakuya is stuck on emergency babysitting duty, he gets an assist from Squad 10.
Starring: Toushirou, Rangiku, Byakuya, and one cranky Ichika.
Ships: Friendships as far as the eye can see!!!
Rating: General audiences, can you believe it?!? You should probably brush your teeth afterwards, tho.
❄️   🐱   🌸   🐰 
“Sir! Captain Kuchiki and, er, a guest are here to see you!”
Toushirou looked up the mission report he had been reviewing. In general, it was pretty unlikely for another captain to just drop by, and it seemed doubly unlikely for Byakuya, of all people, to do so. “Matsumoto!” he barked. “You didn’t schedule an appointment with Captain Kuchiki and then forget to tell me about it, did you?”
“Oh, Captain!” Matsumoto pouted. “You know Renji makes all of Captain Kuchiki’s appointments for him, and he would never trust me to remember something like that.”
This was very true.
“See him in!” Toushirou waved at his waiting Seventh Seat. “Try to look busy, Matsumoto!”
“I am busy!” Matsumoto gestured at the catalog in front of her. “We got budget approval for new office chairs, and I’m trying to pick out the best ones. Your hiney is going to thank me.”
“I will thank you to never mention my hiney again, Matsu-- greetings, Captain Kuchiki!”
Byakuya looked… haggard. His face was pale, his eyes shadowed by dark circles. His hair was gathered in a rather sloppy ponytail, rather than falling in it’s usual glossy waterfall. He kept shifting from one foot to the other in a semi-rhythmic fashion. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but there was a large, lumpy bundle strapped to his chest, and some sort of duffel slung across his back. Had he just returned from a harrowing mission to Hueco Mundo, perhaps?
“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya,” he said, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “I need to ask an important favor.”
“Are you all right?” Toushirou asked, jumping to his feet. “You look like you need to sit down.”
“No, no, I must remain standing.” Kuchiki excused. “As you know, I was supposed to lead the meeting of the Gotei Transparency Improvement Documentation Standards committee this afternoon, but it seems I will not be able to attend. I was hoping that, as co-chair, you would be able to take my place. I am most apologetic, and I swear, on my honor as a Kuchiki, that I will make it up to you.” An angry squall erupted from the cloth wrapped around his chest, and Kuchiki’s hand immediately moved to pat it reassuringly.
“Do you have Ichika?!” Matsumoto squealed, her eyes filling with glittering hearts and stars.
“Er, yes,” Kuchiki mumbled. “It is very unusual, of course, for Renji and Rukia to be called away together, but Kurosaki Ichigo specifically requested their assistance, and obviously, all of Soul Society owes him a great debt, so...” He trailed off in a most un-Byakuya-like fashion.
“Of course I can handle the meeting,” Toushirou reassured briskly, although he had to raise his voice to be heard over the crying, which was steadily increasing in volume. “Do you need… help… with the other matter?”
Kuchiki made a troubled face. “I had thought that my staff at the manor would be able to assist, but Ichika seemed extremely agitated to be left in their care. Strangely enough, being attached to my person is the only thing that seems to placate her. Even so, she becomes angry if I sit down or stop this infernal swaying motion.”
“Well, of course!” Matsumoto scolded. “She doesn’t know those people! You’re her special uncle! But she’s probably bored from being in that thing. Take her out and let her have a little playtime with Auntie Rangiku!”
Byakuya’s face went stiff, and his eyes narrowed judgmentally. For a moment, Toushirou feared that Byakuya was going to take issue with the non-biological nature of Rangiku’s aunthood, although he knew for a fact that Abarai and Kuchiki subscribed to the Rukongai idea of “the more aunties the better.” He, himself, had respectfully turned down a similar honorarium, although he had been secretly touched by the offer. (Momo still insisted on referring to him as ‘Uncle Shirou’ in the baby’s presence. He found that much less touching).
Rangiku, for her part, was regarding Byakuya with a look, just daring him to try it.
People, namely Rukia, kept insisting that Byakuya considered Toushirou to be his friend, but Toushirou had his doubts. Sure, they played shogi regularly, and Toushirou seemed to be the only person outside of Renji and Rukia that Byakuya ever texted, but it’s not like Toushirou really knew the guy. And yet, as he watched Byakuya’s face, he realized, like a bolt of thunder, that he recognized an emotion. He was suddenly certain, down to the marrow of his bones, that Rukia had given her brother a stern talking to on this very topic.
A few moments of obvious internal struggle went by, and then Byakuya blew a small puff of air out of his nose, and began extracting the baby from her wrappings. “I wish you luck,” he declared grimly.
Rangiku hopped up from her desk and danced over to Byakuya’s side. As the cool air hit Ichika’s face, her crying slowed, and she began to look around.
“Hello, baby!” Matsumoto trilled. Toushirou could tell she was dying to snatch the baby from Byakuya’s arms, but was holding herself back until Ichika was ready.
Ichika looked up into Byakuya’s face, her violet eyes wide and uncertain. Then she looked to Rangiku again. Then Byakuya again.
“These are the offices of Squad Ten,” Byakuya explained. “I believe you have been here before. We are guests, so you must be on your best behavior.”
Ichika looked back over at Rangiku, who was hiding the lower half of her face with her scarf. “Peekaboo!” she exclaimed, flinging the scarf away.
Ichika squealed and lunged for Rangiku (or possibly her scarf), nearly knocking Byakuya off his feet.
“Ha ha!” Matsumoto sang, spinning Ichika around. “There’s my happy girl!”
Byakuya’s entire body slumped with relief, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
“You should sit down,” Toushirou suggested, pulling his chair around. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Byakuya sank gratefully into the chair and didn’t even ask any pointed questions about the tea, which is how Toushirou knew that he must be completely exhausted.
Rangiku plopped down on one of the office couches, Ichika in her lap. She dropped her scarf over the baby’s head and tickled her nose with it as Ichika laughed and laughed.
Toushirou wasn’t exactly envious of his lieutenant’s way with people, big and small, but he was grateful for it. Rangiku did friendship so easily-- ironing out disputes between squad members, throwing a birthday bash for a friend-of-a-friend-of-friend, charming cranky babies-- and yet, watching her work her magic only made him feel more special to be part of her inner circle, that she’d seen something in that scrawny kid, so hesitant to stand up for himself that long ago day in Junrinan.
“Her attention span doesn’t last very long,” Rangiku said in a sing-songy voice. “We should have a series of fun ideas lined up!”
Byakuya perked up, and unloaded the bag from his shoulder. He seemed to have forgotten it was there. “I have her Seaweed Ambassador!” he offered helpfully, pulling a stuffed…creature from the bag. “Although it did not produce the desired reaction earlier.”
“Oh, I know!” Rangiku suggested. “Have you ever seen Rukia and Renji do the ‘Big Mommy, Little Daddy’ game?”
“The what?” Byakuya and Toushirou replied in unison.
“It’s so cute! Rukia gets on a chair and makes a big deal about how she’s so tall, and Renji stands on his knees and talks about how short he is. Ichika loves it, don’t you, Ichika!”
Ichika stretched her hands above her head and blew an enthusiastic raspberry.
Matsumoto looked meaningfully at Toushirou. Then Byakuya. Then back to Toushirou.
“No,” Toushirou growled, pointing his finger at Rangiku. “It would be very-- I would-- Just, no.”
“Absolutely not,” Byakuya agreed. “Categorically not.”
Rangiku stuck out her lower lip. “You two are no fun.” She turned her attention back to her tiny charge. “Ichika, are these your toes? I didn’t know you had toes! Let me see!”
Toushirou busied himself with the tea. This, unfortunately, was also classic Matsumoto, trying to draw him into her nonsense. As if even a baby could mistake himself and Byakuya for a pair of loud, dramatic dumbasses like Renji and Rukia. No, the best thing he could possibly do is help Kuchiki get his nerves back together. Children didn’t like Toushirou. Even when he was a child himself, other children hadn’t liked him. Ghost children liked him sometimes, but that was different.
Toushirou decided that Kuchiki deserved the good gyokuro, the stuff he himself only indulged in when Matsumoto was being particularly taxing. It seemed appropriate. He let his mind clear a little so that Hyourinmaru could get the water to the perfect temperature. Hyourinmaru loved the ceremony of even a casual workday tea break. You are a kind friend, his zanpakutou rumbled in his head. Senbonzakura will appreciate this gesture. Hyourinmaru had a hard time telling the difference between Byakuya and Senbonzakura sometimes, and Toushirou had given up trying to correct him.
A memory suddenly popped into Toushirou’s head. A little ghost boy who hadn’t passed over to Soul Society because he was waiting to see the first snowfall. Toushirou had been hesitant to use his zanpakutou for such a frivolous reason, but Hyourinmaru hadn’t seemed to mind, in the end. An idea began to crystalize in his mind.
“Oh, no, baby, what’s the matter?” Matsumoto was exclaiming. “What is this sad face? Is it time to get up? Do you want Auntie Rangiku to walk with you?” Ichika had started to make little fussy noises again.
Toushirou pressed a fragrant cup of tea into Byakuya’s hand as he passed on his way over to the couch. He cleared his throat, and Ichika turned her tiny face up to his. “Hey, Ichika,” he said. “Check this out.” He opened his hand to reveal a tiny, sparkling ice sculpture in the shape of a snowman adorned with rabbit ears. Ichika’s eyes widened, and she waved her arms at it. She would have fallen off of Matsumoto’s lap, if it weren’t for his lieutenant’s quick reflexes.
“How cute, Captain!” Matsumoto cried. “Oh, lucky you, Ichika! Captain made that beautifully bunny just for you! He wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know.”
“You can touch it,” Toushirou said, crouching a little and holding his hand out. Maybe she would be interested in the feel of the ice.
“She will likely ruin it,” Byakuya warned.
“That’s okay. I made it for her.”
Byakuya took a deep inhale of his tea steam. “It is just like you,” he opined, “to put as much care into an amusement for an infant as you would into a great work of art.”
Toushirou’s ears burned, but Matsumoto just laughed. “You are so right, Captain Kuchiki! Classic Captain Hitsugaya, am I right?”
“Yes,” Byakuya agreed. “Classic Captain Hitsugaya.” He took a sip of the tea. “Truly, this tea is returning me from the brink of death. I thank you.”
“Well, I do expect you to take this baby away eventually,” Toushirou tried to grumble. It was hard to get properly grumpy when Ichika was patting his ice bunny with her fat little hands and smiling a big, gummy grin. Suddenly, she stretched her arms out toward him, and made a little whimpery sound. “Sorry, this is the only one I have,” he said.
“I think she wants you to hold her,” Matsumoto suggested.
“She is mistaken,” Toushirou replied.
“Hmmm,” said Byakuya.
“I heard that! Don’t you ‘hmmm’ over there!” Toushirou snapped.
“Abarai has conjectured that Ichika is able to identify Rukia and himself by their reiatsu.”
“Stop.”
“That would be nonsense, obviously, except that she is a Kuchiki, so she is, of course, exceptional in every way.”
Matsumoto’s eyes went wide with delight. “Do you think she thinks Captain is Rukia?”
Toushirou winced.
“Of course not.”
Toushirou blew out a sigh of relief.
“I was only suggesting that he reminds her of Rukia. Because of the cold nature of--”
“Yes, yes, we get it!” Toushirou snapped.
“Oh, Captain,” Matsumoto made a frowny face at him, as Ichika’s face started to screw up in preparation for a full-throated Abarai howl.
“Fine, fine!” Toushirou sighed, handing the ice rabbit over to Rangiku before hefting Ichika up onto his hip. “There. You’re up. You happy now?”
Ichika leaned her head into his side, and patted his chest, making a comforting little cooing noise.
A high-pitched noise came out of Matsumoto, and she clapped her hands over her mouth. “You got a hug!”
“She has just started doing that,” Byakuya informed them grandly. “I, myself, have received several. It is adorable, is it not?”
Toushirou pointedly avoided looking at Matsumoto’s face, which was probably dissolving. Instead, he looked down at the sticky little gremlin who had her cheek pressed into his haori. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s pretty great.”
74 notes · View notes
Text
Jason//don’t blame me for falling
Request: Can I request a jason/reader where Polly is jealous of the reader because she's dating Jason and she tries to break up both of them up but the bulldogs and the vixens confront Polly and tells her to back off because the reader and jason are end game and can the reader also be co-captain and Jason Captain of the bulldogs and can the reader being bestfriends with Cheryl! And thank you btw I love your writing!!!!
hey! i hope everyone is having a good day!! i don’t really get/have a lot of jason imagines so this was super fun to write. title is from harry styles’ ‘to be so lonely’. i hope you like this!! k, byeeee
Polly Cooper has done some things in her time. She’s lied, stole and caused more drama than you can wave a commentary youtube channel at. 
But this time, she’s gone too far. 
You knew she was jealous when you and Jason started dating. It was understandable, they’d dated and he’d essentially broken up with her for you. But thats as far as it went. There was never any cheating or lying involved, and Polly was your friend...sort of. 
But everyone could see that Jason was miserable with Polly, whether that was her fault or not, nobody knew. But when your friends saw you and Jason talking to each in the corridor. When Cheryl would invite you over to hang out after school and she’d find you with Jason instead of getting a snack like you’d told her, everyone knew it was inevitable. 
The captain of the football team and the co-captian of the cheerleaders...it’s just destiny. Especially if they’d grown up together. Especially if your best friend was his sister. It was bound to happen eventually, it was just a matter of waiting for the timing to be right. 
And eventually, after years of waiting and pining and staring longingly at each other...it happened. 
You went to a party together like you always did on a Friday night. You snuck both Cheryl and Jason out of their house with a little help from the Vixens and Bulldogs and then you were off to Hayley Grey’s party!
There, the two of you drank a little too much (it was for a good reason, Jason was upset about his very messy breakup and the fact that Polly now hated him and you, even though you weren’t even together then) and by the end of the night you’d played a very drunk game of truth or dare, made out in the bath tub, confessed your undying love for each other and then fell asleep in the back garden.
You were woken up the next day by Hayley’s dad shouting at the two of you to get off the freshly mowed lawn otherwise he’d call the police and the neighbourhood watch. You’d grabbed Cheryl, ran past Hayley being scolded by her mom and went back to the Blossom’s. 
Once you got there, Mr and Mrs Blossom were stood outside the gate with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces, and stood next to them was your parents, also looking more than annoyed. 
The three of you had been grounded for three weeks, but it was worth it. 
Without that party you and Jason would still just be friends, so you silently thanked Hayley Thomson and her parents, while you and Jason stood beside each other, your fingers still intertwined as your parents shouted at the three of you. 
And the rest as they say, is history...
Or at least thats what you thought they’d say. 
But this is real life and nothing is ever that easy. 
Because yes, for the rest of the weekend you were happy. Texting each other in secret with hidden phones the two of you had gotten ages ago so you could continue to talk to each other. 
You told your friends, he told his and they were so happy.
Cheryl the most because it meant she didn’t have to listen to you mope about Jason whenever he was with someone that wasn’t you, or listen to Jason try to subtly mention you in conversations that related to you in no way, and failing. 
Everyone was happy. 
But by Monday morning, word had gotten around and one person wasn’t happy. 
Polly Cooper. The older and arguably more annoying sister of the Cooper children. She’s always been a little wary of you, you did hang around with her boyfriend a lot and she’d heard the bets about how long it would take for you to get together. 
But when Jason broke up with her, that was it. 
Even though you two didn’t get together until like three weeks after they broke up so you don’t really know what she was complaining about.
She had a list on enemies and you were number one, Jason followed closely at two and then Cheryl was three, just because. 
Her hatred started off slow. She would glare at the two of you whenever you walked past her. Then there were the whispers, laughter and of course the name calling, which then bizarrely evolved to middle school-esque notes passed during class that made you roll your eyes and Jason laugh at the crude drawings. 
“Do I really look like this?” He asks, holding up the latest note that has been shoved through his locker. 
“Hmm.” You think for a few seconds, glancing between him and the paper. The hair’s the same colour, but apart from that, “nah.” You shrug and he nods, looking at the drawing one last time before throwing it in the bin. “You’re much more attractive.” You say, a smile tugging at your lips as you lean over the lunch table to kiss him. 
“Slut!” Polly shouts from across the cafeteria and you pull away reluctantly, both you and Jason sharing a look of annoyance. 
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Cheryl asks from beside you, too busy staring at her phone to actually pay attention to anything around her. 
“Its fine.” You say. “I’ve got it.” You turn in the direction of Polly and flip her off, a sweet smile adorning your lips and your friends laugh loudly. “This is the 21st century, there’s no such things as sluts Polly.” 
“You’re the exception to that.” She replies.
“Well done Polly. That was actually really good for you.” You compliment. “You keep working on your insults and come back to me when you have something better than slut. Oh and how did you get in my boyfriends house to put your bra in his bed? We’ve spent hours trying to figure it out and nothing.” The room goes quiet at your revelation and Polly glances at the table, trying to regain her composure. 
She looks back up a few seconds later and the usual smug grin settles on her face. 
“I must have forgot it the last time I was there, which was what Jason? Last night?” 
“I don’t think so Polly because I think I would have noticed you there.” You reply and hushed gasps and giggles echo around the room. 
She shuts up after that, thankfully letting you eat the rest of your lunch in peace. 
You know it won’t last, but you’ll take the small victory. 
----
“Did she seriously put a bra in his room?” Cheryl asks as the two of you walk out of the changing rooms and towards the front doors. 
Vixen and Bulldog practice both finish at the same time so the two of you wait by the doors for Jason and the rest of your friends. 
“Yep.” You reply, popping the p and she looks at your amused. “I genuinely don’t know how she’s getting in there. Jason thinks she never left, she’d living in the walls.” You giggle. 
“But why though? I would never leave any of my bras in anybody’s room. They’re all too pretty.” 
“I agree.” You nod. “I dunno. She’s been trying to break up us since we got together. She’s spread rumors about both of us, left bras in his bed and faked texts between the two of them.” 
“Well thats annoying.” 
“If anything it’s just sad.” You sigh. “I kind of feel sorry for her.” 
“What? Why?” 
“I dunno. I mean, her boyfriend did break up with her and then start dating his best friend three weeks later. He was miserable but it still doesn’t make it any less upsetting for her.” You frown as you speak. 
Despite being together for over 5 months now, you still can’t help shake the feeling that maybe you’re in the wrong. You don’t want to upset anyone, it just so happens that you’ve been in love with Jason Blossom for as long as you can remember. 
“Well, you’re a bigger person than me.” Cheryl shrugs, looking around the empty corridor. “Where the hell is he, this bag is heavy.” She complains and unlocks her phone, sending another text to Jason and huffing loudly when she doesn’t get an answer immediately. 
You laugh and go to rearrange your bag on your shoulder when your realize that you’ve forgotten it. 
“Shit, Cheryl. I left my bag.” You say and she rolls her eyes. 
“How do you forget a bag that big?” She asks and you shrug. “Go on, I’ll wait.”
“Thank you Cheryl, you’re the best.” You smile sweetly before rushing back towards the gym and changing rooms. 
All the way back you feel like you’re being watched. 
It’s not an intense feeling, its just makes you a little bit more aware of your surroundings, a little bit more jumpy when one of the janitors drops a mop on the floor. You look over your shoulder a little more often when you searching for your bag, and when you finally find it you walk a little quicker out of the room and into the corridor. 
You start the slow walk back to the front of the school, deciding to keep Cheryl waiting for a bit longer. And it’ll be even better if Jason is stood with her, both of the Blossom’s annoyed. 
But just when you think you’re safe, Polly appears and you can already feel the headache starting. You force a smile and stare straight at her, trying to feign niceness. 
“Hi Polly. Great practice wasn’t it?” Thats right, she follows you literally everywhere, even to practice, despite not listening to anything you or Cheryl says. 
“Stay away from my boyfriend.” She replies and your eyes widen, now fully invested in wherever this conversation is going. 
“Excuse me?” You blink. 
“You heard me. Stay away from my boyfriend.” She moves closer to you, effectively backing you into a corner and the only things thats keeping space between the two of you is your gym bag...of course it is. 
“Polly, he isn’t your boyfriend anymore. He broke up with you, remember?” 
“Remember?” She laughs bitterly. “How could I forget. You stole the love of my life away from me.” 
“I di-” 
“You’ve been planning this haven’t you. I mean I get it. Your friends with him for ages and then it slowly develops into something more. I understand that. You know, he always told me I had nothing to be worried about whenever I asked about you. That was a lie wasn’t it? Because here you are, happy and in love while I’m alone. But remember this. He chose me first. He was your friend for years and he never wanted you until now.” 
“Look Polly, I don’t know what you want me to say.” 
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to shut up, and listen.” She says, backing you further and further into the corner. 
“Okay.” 
“I will get Jason back. Slowly but surely, he’ll realize he made a mistake and that he’s supposed to be with me. You’re only supposed to be his friend, nothing mor-” 
“Is everything okay?” A voice asks. 
Polly pauses and both of you move to look who the voice belongs to. A small smile twitches at your lips when you see your friends from both the Vixen’s and the Bulldogs. 
“Yeah.” Polly says through gritted teeth. “Everything’s fine, isn’t it Y/n?” 
“Are you sure? Because from where we’re standing, it looks like you were threatening Y/n. Doesn’t it?” Juliet continues and looks around at the rest of the group. They all nod, glaring at Polly. 
“Jason’s chosen who he wants. Do everyone a favour and back off.” Cheryl says in a cold tone. 
The group of Vixen’s and Bulldogs part to let her through, and as soon as she’s at the front, she’s backing Polly into the wall. You quickly side-step to avoid being squashed and watch as Cheryl continues to subtly threaten Polly. 
Its not how you would prefer to tackle the issue, but she ignores everything else, so maybe Cheryl will do the trick. You don’t know for sure, what you do know is you’re very thankful to have friends that find you when your in trouble, even if they do want to go home. 
Cheryl finishes her threats with a very sweet ‘got that?’, and even you’re a little scared as to how she can change her tone and entire demeanor so quickly. She then grabs your hands and pulls, the two of you walking towards the front doors, your friends following all talking loudly. 
You see Jason stood by the door, pacing up and down while he frantically texts. Once he hears noise he looks up and the worried expression disappears as soon as he sees you. 
“You okay?” Jason asks, his eyebrows kitting together as he takes in your shaken appearance. 
“I am now.” You reply, sending him a small, but relieved smile. He nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you. 
He knows when you’re lying, he knows everything about you, but he also knows you’ll tell him later if you want to. He knows right now he just needs to see you smile properly.   
“Pops?” He suggests and slings an arm over your shoulder, the two of you set off in a slow walk out of the doors and towards his car. “We can split a milkshake.” 
“Why can’t I get my own?” You ask, feigning annoyance. 
“Because in all our years of friendship, when have you ever gotten your own milkshake?” He replies. 
“Never.” You sigh. 
“Exactly.” He nods. “Just because we’re together doesn’t change anything.” 
“Thats fine by me.” You grin. 
158 notes · View notes
bavrenilia · 4 years ago
Text
yandere headcannons | om!lucifer & mammon
Tumblr media
tw: manipulation, exhibitionism, mentioned/implied oral (m.receiving), mindbreaking.
 Lucifer
ー He wouldn’t threaten you obviously but one look from him would be more than enough to put you in your place, he’d fixate his eyes on you and you would feel the shivers running down from your spine.
ー Lucifer would be there for you unconditionally, tries his best to spend time with you as much as possible, keeps you right beside himself even if he’s busy with work. He keeps doing things like these until you start to feel uncomfortable whenever you two are apart from each other. His ulterior motive is to make you an addict- an addict of him. He definitely makes you addicted to himself so that you would feel like you need him every second, being away from him makes you feel less energetic and sad.
ー If you two are arguing about something he just keeps his cool and talks to you calmly only to drive you more mad. If you start to yell or get aggressive he quickly would ask you to calm down, he’d make you believe that you are the one who is making “a little argument turn into something big.” You find yourself begging for his forgiveness, he’d make you cry before you even knew it. With tears in your eyes he makes you promise that you’ll never say something against him—he assures you that if you don’t make any trouble, he’ll never get mad at you. By doing this he not only makes you boost up his own ego, but also he makes you think that you’re the one who’s at fault.
ー If you ever try to escape.. oh boy this man will go feral. He doesn’t make it obvious at first, he asks you what he did wrong and manipulate you as much as he can.
“My love.. did I do something to upset you? Am I not enough? Not worthy of your love? Please tell me what can I do to be worthy of your love.. so that I can try my best to be a man who’s good enough for you.”
ー If someone approaches you on his sight, that’s the last drop for him. You’re his and his only. You belong to him and no one can get close to you more than him. You are his to admire, his to love, his to take care, his to shower in compliments. Even if you try to not pay attention to the person who’s trying to approach you, he’d blame it on you. He’d probably hurt that person, telling you that you are the cause of this because you never listen to him; because you keep getting attention and he has to do something about it.
“My dear.. what did I tell you about flirting with others?”
“I.. I wasn’t flirting with them, it was just a small talk about our class.”
“You can talk to me, you know. I have every answer to your every question, I am the only one who you can rely.. so why would you step out of your boundaries to communicate with a person who’s as low as them? You see.. if you let them get close to you, I have no other choice than to let them know who you belong to. Do you see what you are doing to them? That’s your fault for not listening to my words and warnings. It’s not me who’s hurting them, it’s you.”
When you see Lucifer’s text, inviting you to his room, you know that you have no other option to obligate. You are on your feet before you even know it, rushing to his room because you already saw his text later than usual—he’ll definitely get mad. What were you doing? Nothing can be important than him, right? When you get to his room you knock on the door and wait for his answer. His voice is hoarse as he says, “come in”, from the other side of the door. As soon as you step inside the room, you see your classmate all beaten up. The poor demon looks at you with total fear and you can’t help but gasp at the scene in front of your eyes.
“Lucifer, what’s happening?”, you ask reluctantly but he takes his sweet time to come closer to you and place a soft kiss to your lips. The feeling of his soft lips against yours makes you feel lost. Are you disgusted? Or do you want him to keep kissing you? A tingling feeling makes you ache but you can’t take your eyes from your classmate.
“You need to tell me what’s happening, my love. You were flirting with them earlier today, weren’t you?”
“No.. no we weren’t flirting. He is in the same class with me, he asked for my notes and we talked about finals, that’s it.”
“And what did I tell you about this?”
The air becomes thick and you swallow, try your best to keep your tears back—because you know that Lucifer will get even more mad if you cry. He’ll think that you’re crying because you value that demon, he’ll get so many wrong ideas so you definitely can’t do that.
“I don’t need anyone else beside you, Lucifer.”
“That’s right”, he gives you a soft smile before he grabs the demon’s hair harshly and pulls on it. “Do you think that they’re better than me? What can they possibly give you that I can’t?”
“Nothing.”
“A little bit louder, love. They might not hear you.”
“They don’t worth my time, I don’t need them. You’re the only one who knows the best for me, so I don’t need anyone else but you.”
“Ah, that’s right.. so why did you  not care about all my warnings and still talked to them? Do you see what you’re doing to them? You’re hurting them, it is no one’s but your fault. You understand this, right?”
“I.. I do.”
“I think someone is unsure about the answer.. is that so?”
You quickly step forward to hold Lucifer’s hand and make him let go of the demon who’s clearly in pain but it only makes Lucifer’s grip even more harsh. His red eyes glisten and you feel like you are unable to move as the demon grunts in pain. Your chest feels heavier because of the sight but you bite the tip of your tongue—you have to hold yourself back, or else Lucifer know no boundaries.
“It won’t happen again, I promise”, you mumble and take a step closer to him. Lucifer wastes no time to pull you closer to himself, he kicks the demon who’s kneeling right beside him. He kisses you deeply before pushing you down on your knees.
“That’s my pretty baby.. let’s show him who you belong to, hm?”
Your face gets red with the humiliation because you know what’s going to happen.
“Show him what that pretty mouth of yours has to do instead of talking with them.”
Tumblr media
Mammon
ー Ah this boy.. he’d definitely make you feel pity him at first.
ー His bothers are always insulting him, bullying him, telling him to die.. you are the only one who supports him no matter what. If he loses you, he’ll be nothing. Only you are taking good care of him, value him and listen to him carefully so if you leave him and he ends up in a bad situation it’s your fault.
“I don’t even know what I’d do without you.. you protect me, you comfort me. You are the only one who I can rely on, you know that right?”
ー Lots of crying.
ー When he gets mad at you, he immediately starts crying and makes you feel guilty—why? Because you couldn’t take care of him. If you had tried harder, he wouldn’t be crying right now. You have to do your best only for him. Your time, your love, your energy… your everything belongs to him.
ー He is your first and wants to be your first at everything. Wants to be your first man, wants to be your first kiss, first boyfriend and the list goes on like this.
ー Always holding your hand, kissing you, playing with your hair etc.. everyone has to know who you belong to—who you devoted yourself to.
ー If you ever try to escape he will start to manipulate you, telling you that he’d never expect this from the person who he’s in love with; the person who he trusts most.
ー If you ever get close to someone other than him /including his brothers/ he’ll start to talk about how he’s not worthy of your anything.
“Do you see me as a poor excuse of a demon just like my brothers? Will you replace me with someone better than me? I am so sorry, I am sorry for not being able to give you what you want. Baby.. I’m begging you, please give me another chance. I’ll prove you that I am worthy of everything that you give to me, just stay by my side please. I need you. You are the only one for me.. you’re all I have. If you leave me alone, I will be nothing.”
Mammon rests his head on your thigh, completely calm and silent as he starts to draw invisible circles on your soft skin. He touch is soft and soothing—it shouldn’t be soothing but you can’t help the way you’re leaning into his touch. His breath is hot on your skin and after a minute his tears start to make your leg wet. He’s crying, shaking uncontrollably as he buries his face. You run your fingers through his soft locks and try to comfort him but you can’t even bring yourself to actually say something.
“Everyon’s seeing me as nothing but a loser, nothing but a fucking waste of time. Do you agree with them?”
“No, Mammon no.. why would you think like that?”
“I saw you today with someone from our class, you were smiling at them. Do you like them more than you like me?”
Your heart aches as you hear his words.. he only has you, he made it clear from the very beginning. If you’re not there for him, he’ll be lost. You can’t be so selfish, right? You can’t leave him behind because everyone around him just uses him, treats him badly and acts like he’s nothing but a complete failure. You’re the only one who make him realize his own worth, so if you ever leave him.. he’ll be getting shoved around like a toy.
“You are the only one I love, Mammon.. they were telling me about something—but it wasn’t important, I don’t even remember what we were talking about. You see, no one is more valuable than you to me. I am here to support you no matter what, you know that.. don’t you?”
His sobs finally come to an end, he lifts his head up to look at you and his small smile makes you want to cry. You don’t want to see him broken like this. Never and ever.
He starts to place kisses on your inner thigh, his lips quiver with the contact of your soft and warm skin.
“I want to be the best for you”, he mumbles against your skin and it takes every piece of sanity that you have to not make a sound right at that moment. He doesn’t like it when you’re quiet. He needs everyone to know that he’s the only one who can make you feel like this, who can pleasure you like this. He needs to—no, he has to hear your voice.
His bites your skin harshly before giving you any time and you quickly tuck on his hair as you cry out his name.
“That’s much better.. my pretty human, you’ll be even louder for me, hm? You’ll let me devour you the way I want because that’s what I deserve. I deserve everything that you can possibly give me.”
154 notes · View notes
everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago
Text
❛ WEIRDOS TOGETHER ❜
with Happy Lowman.
Request: Hi Cariño! I’m happy you’re taking requests! Can I request one with Happy where he is going to ask the reader to marry him so he’s acting weird and she thinks he’s cheating on her so she spies on him. I like prompts 10 and 12. Gracias!
BY @aimkatsz
Request: Hey babe. "Were you really spying on me?" With happy please ❤
BY @chibsytelford
Prompts:
10. "Were you really spying on me?"
12. "What's in that bag and why are you hiding it here?"
Tumblr media
Warnings: none.
Word count: about 1.5k
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: @angels-reyes.
Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!
Tumblr media
Happy is weird. You don't need to know him deeply to know it. He is weird beyond the established limits. But you never cared about it, you love how special and different he is. At first, you thought that he was having one of those random moments, like when you wake up on the wrong side of the bed. But it continued for a few days more, until he texted you that he was going to stay the night at the clubhouse. Since you moved together almost a year ago, unless he is on a run, he needs to sleep with you. If you have a night shift at the hospital, he waits for you awake. Juice and Chibs told you that he was fine, just going through some shit with the nomads, even if he left that charter, long time ago. So you didn't believe them.
The next morning, you appear in the club without calling, trying to find out what is happening in reality. Walking through the hallway, pretending normality, you stop in front of his dorm. Sticking your ear on the door, you can hear some grunts and curses inside. Opening it slightly, you stick your head out, watching Happy keeping some clothes into a black bag. And also a toilet kit and a bottle of cologne. Is he leaving? Without telling you? For a moment, the only thing you can think in it's the fact that he decided that you two were over. That he didn't want to play house anymore.
Finally coming in, you stare at him with a bunch of tears in your eyes, it is a hard sniff what calls his attention. He turns at you, surprised but horrified, trying to hide the bag under the bed. It's the first time that you see him drawing those gestures on his face.
“How much have you been there?” He asks frowning, using a rough tone of voice but keeping the calm. “Were you really spying on me?”
Your vocal chords don't respond, don't work. Your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting reddened.
“What have you seen?”
You don't understand the answer, maintaining your left hand on the knob. Sniffing again, you try to contain your cry.
“What is in the bag and why are you hiding it there?” You simply ask. But he doesn't answer any question. “Are you… leaving me? Are yo—you gonna break up… with me?”
“No”.
“Then, why…?”
“Go home, (Y/N)”.
You try to say something else, but he repeats the order. Nodding in silence, knowing that he's lying and the only thing he wants is to push you away. Closing the door again, you go back on your steps, until reaching your car again. Getting in, you break into a bitter cry, not caring about the fact that some Sons are looking at you. Turning on the engine, you drive your way back home feeling how your heart breaks a little more, as you leave the club behind you.
Parking it in front of your house, you walk towards the back yard, having a seat on a chair and curling your body on it to let your tears run down your cheeks. Trying to think about what you could do wrong, you start to see that maybe sometimes you are too clingy, too careful, too talkative. You know that he actually loves silence and that he respects his personal space more than anything. But, why now? Why after two years? Why hasn't he told you anything about it? All these doubts roam your head for almost one hour, deciding to come into the house and occupy your mind with something. But there's nothing that can't help you. Finding yourself crying every time you come back to reality.
You're not sure how many time have passed by, when you hear the main door. Running towards it, from your shared room, you yell his name in an interrogation, suddenly stopping your feet when you find Jax standing there. The pressure inside your chest grows a little more, with a sad gesture installed in the corner of your lips.
“Have you come to… pick up his things?”
The blonde man frowns confused, twisting his neck by a side.
“I came to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?”
Of course. This is Happy's house at all.
“I will… pac—pack my things in ten minutes… You don't have to do it, I can… leave by my own”. Bowing your head to your barefoot, you just wait for him to go.
“Darling, what are you talking about?” He asks then, taking a step ahead. “Put on that black dress you wore for the last party, hurry. We have to leave”.
“What?”
“Hurry”. He says clapping and chuckling.
You are pretty lost with the situation, coming back to your room to take a quick shower and get dressed as the President said. Tying up your hair and wearing a pair of Vans, like you looked some nights ago. Grabbing a jacket and hanging your bag from a shoulder, you follow him out of the house. With a gesture of his head, he makes you know that you have to drive your car. You would like to ask what the hell is going on but, probably, he won't ask. Licking your bottom lip, waiting impatiently for him to end a call, both turn on the engines to join the road. With the window rolled down and an elbow stuck on it, you take off the sunglasses as the sun starts to hide, feeling curiosity about your destiny. About what Jackson wants from you. And it takes you twenty more minutes, driving through a thick forest in the middle of the darkness. Anyone could think that they want to kill you because, maybe, you know too much about the club; but they would never hurt you. Would they?
Jax stops by your side pointing at a cabin, some feet away from you, with the lights inside it turned on. He just smiles, guiding his bike backwards to turn around and come back by the road. Biting your lip, you continue alone, station your car close to the wooden porch. Stepping out of it, you go upstairs feeling somewhat colder and rubbing your arms with both hands. Coming into the small house, you have a quick look. Everything looks normal, with the exception of the main table already settled up with one red candle on the center of it. Closing the door to not lose the warm temperature inside, you turn around looking for an explanation.
Happy scares the shit out of you. Closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chest, you snort heavily, before frowning at him.
“What's that?” You ask a little confused.
“Can you sit?”
These three words push you out of your calm, obeying with a bad mood. Having a seat on a chair, biting your inner bottom lip. Noticing his clothes, you see that he looks a little strange wearing a white shirt and a pair of black jeans. He also smells too good. Connecting the dots, you reach a point, but not enough to understand.
“I was about to do it after the dinner, but Juice told me you were crying this morning”.
You don't say anything, gulping slightly. Taking some steps close to you, he holds your right hand visibly nervous.
“I couldn't break up with you”. Hiding it behind a firm tone of voice, you know that he is trying to make an effort and talk a little more than he is used to. “I couldn't live without you. I really need you… You understand me and you have never judged me”.
Now, breathing a little less anxious, your eyes can watch how he squats next to you but loosening his hand from yours. Taking off a small box from a pocket, your heart suddenly stops.
“I just didn't know how to ask it. I didn't know if you would want it”. Opening it in front of your orbs, he shows you a small and fine gold ring. Simple, with a diamond on top of it. “I was scared, thinking you would say no”.
“Why…? Why would I say no?”
“I'm not a normal guy. And I don't have a normal life”.
Pouting at him, you can't help but cup his face into your hands to kiss him. Happy wasn't expecting it, taking some seconds to surround your waist with an arm.
“Will you… marry me?” He whispers sounding worried. “Please…?”
That last word breaks your heart a little. You have never seen him doubt, or feeling scared. But now, he is. He is looking at you, pulling himself some inches away and grabbing the ring from the black box.
“Of course I will, Happy”. You just say, drawing a fleeting smile on your lips.
The jewelry fits perfectly in your finger, like his arms holding you tightly against him. You were made for each other and no one could say otherwise.
287 notes · View notes