#becoming sour cream

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

[divineyetinpain]

Oh no….I’ve rediscovered chocolate milk…

CALL THE ARMY!!!

[ozarkthedog]

𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬

summary: you wear Marcus’s gold laurel crown while he worships you.

pairing: Marcus Acacius x afab wife!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. body worship. basically, treating you like the Goddess that you are. feels. praising. oral sex (f). fingering. cream pie. i'm sure there are inaccuracies so just don't pay them any mind. reader is abled bodied. no y/n. no beta. w.c: 1.6k

an: so i had this thot the first time i saw Marcus and i haven't been the same since.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

War is dreadful and barbaric.

Marcus plots the Emperor's commands despite the incessant regret that sours his stomach. His army of men slay soldiers and pillage towns. There is savagery wherever he looks. As he's aged, he's become callous to the bloodshed, no longer the feral ravenous beast he once was.

Finding you warming his bed is a sight bestowed to the Gods, he thinks.

His body aches, muscles sore from weeks on the battlefield, but the moment he sees you, all his pain vanishes. His white and gold armor rests against the foot of the bed; signs of war have no place in this sanctuary.

You beckon Marcus in the silence of his bedroom, lit only by candles that make the room glow an ethereal hue, while your supple body is wrapped in his cream-colored sheets like a bouquet. Your fingers find his as he climbs into the bed, interlocking like vines along a lattice as he lies beside you. He rests his laurel-crowned head on your lap like a child longing for warmth and compassion.

Marcus gazes up at you, his other half in this forsaken world, his goddess.

"You did well today." You praise, smiling down at him, remembering how regal he looked in the golden diadem as he gave another victorious speech to the crowd.

Marcus hums as you run your fingers around the golden leaves and through his curls. He allows himself to rest in your divine embrace, if only for a moment. Your heavenly harmony soothed his worn, remorseful soul.

"I do it all for you, my Lady." the General purrs, tenderly lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles.

Marcus's white tunic shifts as he rises to his knees and plucks the crown from his head. His curls bounce with the movement before he places the crown atop your own.

You timidly raise your hands, feeling the intricate design and the solid gold leaves as the crown sits heavy on your head, but he looks at you with awe.

"I've never seen such beauty in all my days." Marcus compliments like a man staring at the sunrise for the first time.

You were the shining beacon that kept him sane during the days of war, and he would make sure you knew the effect you had on him.

"My Empress," Marcus gently tugs the sheets, dragging the cotton down your body. He relishes your voluptuous form with a soft groan. "It's been too long since I gazed upon you." The skin at the corner of his eyes crinkles as he trails his gaze from the tips of your toes to your gilded halo.

His hands burn. He flexes them at his sides as he hungers to feel your tenderness, warmth, and compassion. "My goddess."

Your face flames as your lashes flutter to the sheets, overwhelmed by Marcus' adoration. If he only knew that you'd happily drown in the wake of his love.  

A solid finger lifts your chin to meet his sober stare. "Do me the honor of watching me pour my devotion upon you."

A lithe gasp falls from your lips as he drops his hand and lightly cups your breasts. Worn and calloused, the hands of a known killer, though he's always so gentle with you, your nipples pucker as he skims each bud with delicate circles.

Your lips part with a gasp, chasing his hands when he withdraws. He chuckles at your panting breaths. "Do not fret. There is still much time to ravish you."

His mustache tickles your skin as he leans and sucks your left breast into his mouth. Tounging the pert bud, he brings succulent pleasure to the surface and a soft cry from your lips. He massages the right with expertise, kneading and pinching, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply until he has you squirming.

He strives to leave no spot unclaimed. He's a man of his word; nothing can stop him once he's begun. Stone walls and fleets of men wielding swords and canons cannot stop him.

Soft lips trace under the arc of your breasts before moving to your ribs. A mischievous tongue darts out at the curves, tasting the thin layer of salt on your skin.

"I'd sail across the ocean for you." he professes; the timbre of his voice is as deep as the sea.

A barrage of kisses presses to your waist and the softness that you carry. Marcus's stormy beard lightly grazes your skin as he makes his ascent, leaving pebbles in its wake.

"I'd fight my own army to get to you."

Your fingers card through his locks as he settles between your thighs, making room for himself and pushing your legs apart. He hooks them over his broad shoulders with a devilish smirk. A wry tongue licks a straight line from your pulsing opening to the crux of your mound, making you tug his hair with a wanton mewl.

Marcus stills, like a predator, having just sunk its claws into prey, and presses his scarred, aquiline nose into the soft curls that top your mound. His nostrils flare as your heady scent invades his senses. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he lowers his head, watching you from under his lashes. His once enchanted eyes have now become slivers of torrid black as he latches his teeth into your fleshy mound.   

You cry out from the impish bite, hips unconsciously grinding toward your lover as he unlocks his jaw and finally smothers your cunt with his mouth.

Your nerves sizzle from the immoral embrace as his tongue dances over your clit. Nimble fingers trace your sticky petals, dipping in and out of your hole, drawing more blood to fill your already throbbing folds. Your heart beats in time with the pounding of your lower half as Marcus takes his time to worship you.

"Seems my Lady enjoys my touch." He purrs— a slick, shiny grin plastered on his face.

Your body bends, curving sharply like a bow aimed and waiting for the charge. Marcus keeps you primed like the General he strived for ages to become. "Tonight, you will not want," he claims, notching two fingers at the opening of your core.

He holds your fiery stare as he presses into your soaked channel. Your head lolls, and your eyes flutter like butterflies as his thick digits widen your velvet passage.

"Always so good to me." Marcus coos, curiously curling his touch along the hidden ridges deep inside. His cock aches, soaking the sheets with his pearly spend, desperate to be inside you. "Letting me adore and worship as I please."

You want to hold him in your arms and repeat every word he praises back to him in a whisper, but Marcus is a man of his word; tonight is about you and only you.

His shoulders stop your legs from closing as a violent wave of pleasure rolls over you. A wicked laugh rumbles from the man as he suckles your inner thigh. "So close, my Lady. I can feel it." Marcus works his fingers in and out, driving you to the edge, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Slick, drenched kisses stain your skin, another sign of his devotion, as your limbs tangle even more with the stoic man. His rough hands easily hold you down as you wriggle in his grip. Your breathing escalates, and blood pulses in your ears as the eager desire to come consumes you.

"Yes, my Love, take what I give you," Marcus begs, thrusting his weeping cock against the bed in time with his fingers, working you higher and higher.

Marcus wraps his lips around your clit, suckling and swirling the tiny bud until you're chanting his name. He tortuously hooks his fingers onto the spot behind your clit, forcing you to swell and explode into a mass of sparkling particles.

The moment your eyes blink open, having floated back down from your glorious high and into the comfort of Marcus' bed, he notches his cock at your creamy opening and thrusts himself to the hilt.

Your jaw drops with a silent cry. It's devastating and empyreal but your body welcomes him home like always.

"Her embrace is so warm and tight. Like how I dreamt on all those lonely nights", Marcus groans, dropping his head to your shoulder.

The image of Marcus touching himself in the darkness of his tent after a day of savagery makes your cunt quiver. The power you hold over this man is not to be taken lightly.

As you become one, your breasts press against his broad, dewy chest as he blankets your smaller frame and pushes you into the mattress with every cant of his hips, driving his length into the deepest depths.

Crescent moons pepper his freckled back as he shows you sights you've never seen, eliciting his name from your lips with a broken, gasping prayer. Your hold tightens around his bouldering shoulders, his thrusts gaining immense strength as the end closes in, shoving you up the bed.

Marcus noses your cheek, drawing your attention from the blissful heaven. "My Love," his hands encompass your face, from chin to temple, so cautiously, like he's holding a newborn. "I've never experienced such wonders than when I am inside you."

He continues to rock you in the safety of his arms and his bed, hurrying his thrusts when your eyes roll and your limbs become stiff. Marcus wants to meet the Gods with you and feel the rapture and glory as they carry you off into the heavens as one.

Marcus growls with bared teeth as he comes; his spine flexes as he spills his seed and fills you to the brim. He doesn't stop thrusting until his come is leaking onto the sheets, and your folds can no longer hold his offering.

You are his temple, and he will worship until the day he falls.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

[shomatoriashi]

09/29/24; 02:45pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you’re on your period ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel + bonus

when sylus found you curled up in bed, unable to move or utter a sentence that didn't begin with a whimper-

he knew that it was that time of the month once more, causing you to trap yourself in a cocoon made from your blankets while surrounded by your favorite plushies. after finishing his routine for the day, sylus adjusts his tie, rufescent eyes filled with sympathy for you. with a gentle hum of your name, he settles himself beside your cocoon, feeling his added weight make the mattress dip in response.

you weakly peek at him from beneath the confines of your comforter, making sylus chuckle in response as he gently brushed back your hair. "hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?"

"i could be better..." cue another whimper escaping from you, the sudden jolt of pain felt rippling across your abdomen as you curled up even further into your cocoon. with a sigh of your name, sylus leans forward to press a lingering kiss against your hair.

"i know how painful this is for you, so you just remain in bed for as long as you need to. alert luke or kieran if you need anything, and i'll make sure mephisto keeps an eye on you as well."

"don't you think that's overkill, sy?" your grumbling words manages to earn a chuckle from sylus, with him leaning down to press another lingering kiss against your hair.

"please, nothing is too over the top for me, especially when it comes to you, darling."

while sylus wished for nothing more than to remain by your side as you went through so much pain, he had a busy day ahead of him and responsibilities he could not quite drop at the last minute. with his itinerary in mind, he says his goodbyes to you once more before leaving your shared bedroom.

while leaving the mansion, he gives luke and kieran strict orders to leave you alone and remain on their best behavior, reminding them that they were only allowed to enter his bedroom if and when you needed anything. the twins both give him a mock salute, promising him that they would take care of you and protect you when needed.

the hours go by, and despite the several meetings and conferences he attended with potential clients, his mind would always inevitably go back to you. when moving from place to place, sylus would stop by a gift shop or store, picking up some items he knew you would need.

by the late evening, sylus returns home with numerous bags in his hand. kieran was the first to greet him, letting out a low whistle. "wow, can i just say whipped much?"

"shut it." sylus grunts at him, demanding that he alert the cooks so that they can prepare dinner for you. giving him another mock salute, kieran's laughter was heard echoing throughout the hallways, making a vein pop against his forehead.

taking great strides towards the room, he opens the door, feeling his prior annoyance disappear and the way his heart melts with empathy for you. you were still settled in bed, with the blankets wrapped around you. "i'm home, sweetheart."

"sylus...!" happiness was seen in your gaze when you get out of your cocoon, making his heart race at the mere sight of you. he joins you in bed, pulling you into his lap while giving you the various bags. you giggle, setting aside the feminine pads, eyes taking in the various snacks he had bought for you. upon feeling an ice cold carton, your mood becomes significantly better seeing your favorite flavor of ice cream. you end up grabbing the ice cream as you tossed aside the lid and dug into it with the provided spoon.

your lover chuckles in amusement, tracing the tip of his nose against your hair, "do you feel better now?"

"yes." you answer him with a giggle, cuddling your body even closer to his as you felt the aches and pain of your period slowly melt away while in his embrace.

"ah, i see that you are menstruating."

heat was felt against your cheeks when zayne notices your sour mood and the blood stains seen against the sheets. this was your first month living together with him, and despite how you couldn't help or control the intensity of your cycle, you still felt embarrassed.

"s-sorry, i should have slept with a towel beneath me. i'll be sure to wash-"

but zayne cuts off your nervous rants while saying your name in a stern (but gentle) tone, "there's no need to feel embarrassed. what you're going through is just part of a female's anatomy. it's something you can't control, and i'm not upset with you at all."

you pout at him, hiding your face beneath the blankets while speaking to zayne, almost dejectedly, "i guess you're right."

zayne sighs, looking away from you all while adjusting his tie. "i have to work soon, will you be alright by yourself?"

you meet his gaze, your heart racing with anticipation. deep down, you wanted to experience what it was like to be in zayne's embrace, having him comfort you through your pain and discomfort that came with your cycle. yet, you didn't want to be a selfish girlfriend, or have him dislike you when your relationship was still so fresh and new to you and him both.

"n-no, i think i'll be fine, zayne. i'll see you tonight, okay?"

zayne gives you a stiff nod, already closing the door to your bedroom before stepping outside. you felt a little disappointed, watching as zayne left you with little hesitation. with plans to pout yourself to sleep, you let out a huff and ducked your head beneath the covers, curling into a fetal position to help with easing the excruciating pain that came with your cramps.

you were ready to close your eyes when the door opens once more, revealing zayne. sitting up in bed, you run a hand through your hair, trying to hide your pout, "what is it? did you forget something?"

he shakes his head in response, "no, it didn't feel right to leave you here all alone. even if i did go to work, my mind would be preoccupied with you and your sad face."

you were about to deny that you felt sad at the thought of him leaving, yet the words refused to come out of your mouth. instead, you watch as zayne takes off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt before rejoining you in bed.

"don't worry." a soft chuckle was heard against your ear, "i already called in and decided to use one of my pto days. another surgeon will take my place for the day, and i'll come back in a few days, when you feel better."

it takes you a herculean effort to hide your grin, and when you couldn't handle it anymore, you hid your face within his chest. "but you're the best cardiac surgeon akso hospital has."

"and there are other competent surgeons as well." zayne answers you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

as he rubs comforting circles against your abdomen, you felt your eyelids grow heavier. unable to remain awake, you fell into a peaceful slumber while in zayne's embrace, smiling in your sleep when you felt something soft pressed against your hair.

a soft moan was the sole form of communication you could manage when xavier wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling your jostling movements against the shared bed.

"hey, what is it? what's wrong?" his voice was thick with sleep, blue eyes lazily looking down at you and how you were practically clinging to him. another whimper was heard coming from you, with your body practically curling up against his.

"sorry, these cramps seem to hit me at the worst times." you manage to admit to your hunter boyfriend, making his eyes go wide when he sees the spot of blood against his sheets. he hears another whimper coming from you, and finally decides to pull you even closer to him. knowing that you were in pain makes xavier hyper-focused on helping you feel better.

"sssh, it's okay, i'm here, i'm here." xavier adjusts his hold on you, purposely cradling your body against his. with your back pressed against his chest, he allows the palm of his hand to flatten against your abdomen, trying to massage the cramps that you felt.

with his gentle massages and soft words of reassurance, you visibly began to relax, letting out a soft moan while pressing yourself even closer to his chest. no words were spoken as xavier continues to comfort you. "it's late at night, so there's not much i can do, but when morning comes, i can take you out to get breakfast at your favorite café."

your pain manages to ease up, allowing you to practically melt against him. feeling drowsy now, you give xavier a nod, turning around so that you could hide your face within his chest. "mhmm, sounds good... xavier."

the young hunter chuckles, pressing one last kiss against your forehead, taking a moment to admire your sleeping features before closing his eyes once more, not daring to let you go as he keeps you pressed against him.

rafayel was able to sense when it was that time of the month for you. you didn't have to complain about your pain or how uncomfortable it was.

in fact, your lover actually takes a break from work, setting his artworks to the side while tending to your every need. him spoiling you so much makes you utterly giddy, unable to contain your happiness as rafayel took care of you during your time of need.

from ordering all of your favorite foods, to hand feeding you your favorite desserts, it was easy to say that he treated you like a queen while in his care. and it was thanks to his thorough care that you found your monthly cycles to be much more bearable.

at the end of the day, rafayel keeps you in his embrace, stripping both you and him of your clothes before preparing a bath for you. while the porcelain tub fills with water, the artist takes a moment to select your favorite scented bubbles before pouring it into the warm waters.

as the bubbles began to multiply with the rapidly filling water, rafayel shuts off the faucet, giving you a mischievous grin before entering the tub with you still in his arms. your giggles echo throughout the bathroom, and you felt so content and happy while hiding your face within the base of his throat.

with a hum of your name, rafayel places the palm of his hand against your naked abdomen, his touch becoming much warmer than usual. even though the slight heat was something that was new to you, you basked in it, allowing the heat to course through you, taking away the pain.

"rafayel... what- what are you doing?"

you feel the way your boyfriend shrugs, pressing a kiss against your damp hair, "i used a bit of my evol to warm my hands... it's something that i've been trying to perfect to help you in situations like this."

you were now filled with love for him, eyes gazing at him with absolute adoration. with your body practically seeking rafayel's warm touch, you eagerly press yourself closer to him, basking in his rich chuckles as he meets your gaze, leaning down to give you a searing kiss that conveys the depths of his love for you.

"don't you think you're being a bit too overdramatic?" caleb calls out your name in an exasperated manner, but you could only manage a weak glare at him in response.

"i am not being too overdramatic, i'm in serious pain right now, caleb! but of course, you wouldn't know since you never had to deal with this type of pain." your words send a wave of empathy through him, and he figured that you were right, that he didn't know what you were going through.

your boyfriend lets out a sigh, eyes trailing over your figure as you remained hunched over and curled up in bed. knowing that you were probably in too much pain to move, he starts searching through your apartment, grabbing the necessary items before bringing them to you.

"alright, time to scoot over." you grumble and whine some more, making room for caleb all while letting out soft whines here and there. caleb manages to place you within his arms, taking advantage of his strength when he sits up in bed, placing you on his lap while allowing you to cling to him.

he opens the cold bottle of water, offering you two tablets of your pain medicine to take. even through your pouts, you take the medication and swallow both tablets while draining the water bottle. along with the medicine, he offers you a bag of snacks he had bought for you earlier, unwrapping them for you. as he offers one of the snack cakes to you, his smile widens, watching as you cutely bite into it.

"that's my good girl." he teases you, cooing at you as you could feel the heat against your cheeks. enjoying just how close you were to him, caleb presses several kisses against your cheek, not stopping until you were left a giggling mess.

"how about we just stay indoors, and i can order some chinese takeout for both of us for dinner tonight?" your boyfriend asks you all while gently massaging at your tender abdomen.

you hum in agreement to his plans, already opening a chocolate bar as you bit into it, all while leaning into his form. basking in his warmth, you relax while in his embrace, already feeling better as your lover spent the entire day taking care of you without a single complaint.

and you couldn't have been happier at the fact that you had managed to capture the heart of someone so perfect.

end notes: i am on my period;;; and i am d y i n g 🫠 i would love to have these lads men spoil me in my time of need,,,,,, currently unedited but i’ll make any changes once this is posted ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

—

Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

—

A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

—————————————————

You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

—

The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

—

You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

—

Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

—

Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

—

“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

—

You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

—

Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

—

—

—

—

—

—

—

—

—

Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

—————————————————

The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

—

TAG LIST!

@hoseokslefteyebrow @sleepyamaya @typicalife-101 @jenniferdixon05207 @geraskier-thots @nuttyrebelflower @youcantseem3 @ihateuguys @archangel1206 @southprw

[arminsumi]

HE'S GOT A RING ON HIS FINGER

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A married dilf Gojo wants you to have his babies! He might not be married for much longer though

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : smut/18+ content : infidelity, dilf!Gojo, cheating kink, reader cheating on bf, breeding kink, unprotected sex, daddy kink, dirty talk

Gojo Satoru has a ring on his finger.

You're reminded of all the shit his wife has said to you when you feel the cool metal of his ring against your skin... as he's pinning your wrists together above your head and stuffing his nasty, cheating cock into you from behind while his wife is god knows where and his kids are at a friend's sleepover.

His friends like you. His kids like you. His marriage is falling apart. Gojo wants to have another baby but his wife doesn't, and he happened to come across you — who has a filthy breeding kink, who he met at some soccer event long ago and now has snaked into his home to become a close family friend.

"Y'know my kids love it when you visit. Wanna be their mommy? Yeah? How about you gimme 'nother one... let me knock you up." and he's saying this before he's inside you, his words turn filthier when his fat cock is getting milked by your pussy.

His cockhead is stroking at your G-spot when he says, "Please... jus'... j-jus' take my fucking seed like a good girl, yeah? Let me get that cheatin' pussy pregnant."

He grunts and keeps pounding away at your cunt like he's a starved man, while you're babbling about how good it feels but at the same time he needs to hurry up, because your boyfriend is texting you asking where the hell you are.

So he grabs your phone and tosses it out of sight so you can't see your boy's notifications anymore. It pissed Gojo off, how dare he interrupt you and him? How dare you bother returning to him when you know no one fills your pussy quite like a man who's already fucked babies into another one. As if your boyfriend could compete.

Gojo's face turns sour, he glares at the place where you two connect; your sloppy, squelching little pussy. He's got that kitty creaming and freaking out on his cock.

"You know your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do... you n-need an older man to treat you right, don't you? F-fuck... ah, god baby you're squeezing my cock so perfectly... you're gonna milk out my cum. Fuck. Stay right there and let me fill you. You want daddies babies, don't you? Tell me... tell me you want it. Tell me you want my babies."

As if you could squirm when he's fucked you out on his bed for well over two hours now.

All he needs to tip over the edge is for you to say, "Yes daddy! Gimme your babies!"

And then he's groaning loudly, rolling his eyes back and feeling his whole body shudder as he dumps a fat, sticky load of baby batter deep inside your quivering hole. He stuffs himself as deep as he possibly can so that you feel every inch of that nasty, cheating cock. The skin at the base wrinkles up as his balls squish against your clit.

He's heaving and panting and gasping with you. You're thinking about how his cock is so much bigger than your boyfriend's, and he's thinking about how much tighter your pussy is than his wife's.

Gojo's gone silent, smirkingly admiring how good you look with that afterglow on your face. He's imagining how you'll look with that pregnancy glow one day.

You're gonna look so pretty when you're pregnant with my kids.

He slides his cock out, kisses your shoulder and massages your numb legs.

Gojo's phone goes off, and you ask who it is. He takes one look at the caller ID, and a look at his seed bubbling and spilling out your pussy hole, and says;

"Oh. It's just my future ex-wife."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

At no point ever has Batman shown any sexual desire in a man All of his partners are female Shipping a canonical straight man with another canonical straight man is a disservice to his character and requires Superman a character with a code of honor and upstanding morals to cheat on his canonical wife in order for an extremely out of character relationship to take place

Cozy Soup

Prep Time: 15-20 min

Cook Time: 30-50 min

Serves: 6-8 people

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef or turkey

3/4 cup chopped onion

-Even if you hate onions, I promise they'll taste amazing in this

3/4 cup chopped carrots

1 tsp dried parsley

1 tsp dried basil

4 tbsp butter

3 cups chicken broth

4 cups peeled and diced potatoes

1/4 cup all purpose flour

2 cups Velveta cheese, cubed

-Alternatively, you can do 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese instead

1 1/2 cups milk

3/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 cup sour cream

Instructions

1. Brown ground meat in a 3-4 qtr saucepan. Once it's fully cooked, drain the meat and set it aside.

2. In the original saucepan, add 1 tbsp butter, chopped onion and carrots, dried basil, and dried parsley. Saute until all are tender.

3. Add broth, potatoes, and meat to saucepan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover with a lid, and simmer for 10-15 min until everything is tender.

4. In a separate skillet, melt remaining butter and add flour. Cook and stir for 3-5 min or until the mixture becomes bubbly. Add to soup and bring it to a boil. Cook and stir again for 2 additional minutes. Reduce heat to low.

5. Stir in the cheese, milk, salt and pepper. Cook and stir until cheese completely melts. Remove from heat and blend in sour cream. Serve.

Optional Garnishes

-Bacon bits

-Feta crumbles

-Shredded cheddar cheese

-Chives

Additional

Highly recommend garlic bread to go alongside this dish. It's pure heaven.

[bouncybongfairy]

Everything & The Kitchen Sink

Butch Wolverine x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Logan promised to come home early from the bar after her shift. You make dinner and get ready only for her to come home late and drunk. This some how leads to the two of you tribbing on the counter.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Fingering, Tribbing, Nipple Play, Squirting

(THIS IS A W|W FANFIC)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were cleaning up the kitchen after making dinner. Logan was supposed to be home over an hour ago, she was working as a bouncer at a local bar. She promised you she’d come straight from work, you’d spent all day preparing for just that. Cleaning the entire apartment, did all the laundry, made dinner, ect. Took a long shower, exfoliated and moisturized. You already wrapped her plate up and stored it in the microwave. Preoccupying yourself by watching TV until you fall asleep. 

Logan carefully unlocked the door and saw you laying so still and statuesque. In comparison to what she sees at the bar all day you truly looked like an angel. The light of the television casting on you like you were glowing. She was past tipsy but not staggering or anything, she liked seeing how peaceful you were; knowing that once you woke up it’d be a completely different story. She opened the microwave and started salivating, it was her favorite. Baked potato with sour cream and chives, corn on the cob, two slabs of steak cooked medium rare, grilled shrimps and roasted carrots. 

It looked so amazing she didn’t bother heating it back up. Stuffing her face, only using utensils when she had too. She hadn’t eaten anything before or during work and drank on an empty stomach. It was like the plate was fucking glowing. Lighting the cigar she had tucked behind her ear. Too drunk to care that she was sparking up inside. She came over to you and ran her finger along your bare thigh. Wearing her tee shirt and the band of your panties peeking out. 

“Mmhm, you’re so soft,” she grumbled to herself, letting her calloused hand run up and down your skin. Stirring you awake and gently letting her body fall on top of yours. You were starting to stir awake, remembering how late Logan was. You push against her shoulders but she doesn’t care. Continuing to kiss your neck and grope your chest. The liquor and burnt smell of the cigar coming from her breath only reminded you of her loyalty to the bar. 

“You’re late,” you huffed, sitting up and trying to get out of her grip.

“Was a late night baby,” she mumbled.

“And you're drunk,” you said, successfully wiggling out of her grip. Picking up the coat she let drop on the floor when coming home. Logan took this opportunity to grip your hips and thrust herself against you. 

“So?” she laughed, pulling at the waistband of your panties and letting them snap against your skin. Entertained by how you jumped and squealed when the elastic hit you.

“I waited for a long time… I was all excited and you left me waiting..” you trail off. It sober her up a bit, knowing that you had waited for her while she lollygagged at the bar. Logan didn’t realize how much her company meant to you. Probably due to her own insecurity but she missed seeing the way she undervalued herself was affecting you. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you to her chest. 

“I should have come right home. I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s okay, I know you have a lot going on. Just promise for next time,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I’m glad you ate,” you said, noticing her dishes on the counter. 

Logan wasn’t paying attention anymore, now completely focused on running her hands down your body. She couldn’t get your smell out of her nose and it was starting to affect her self control. You were oblivious to how worked up she was becoming, Instead being off in your own little world. As much as you hated her cigar habit, the smell was somewhat comforting now as much as you complained about it. Sometimes you’d avoid washing the smoke smell off hoodies and pillow cases. You moved your hands up to her hair, brushing the loose stands out of her face. Eventually running your nails down her arms, you could feel the goosebumps form; her body hair standing somewhat making you giggle. 

She was breathing hard, especially when you looked up at her. Big doe-eyes staring up at her, eyelashes fluttering and hair messy from your nap. Logan smashed her mouth against yours, bringing her hands up to cup your face. Pressing herself against you, pinning your body to the kitchen island. Her thumbs rubbing your face as you work your tongues together. It was sloppy and getting more heated by the minute. She grabs you by the waist and sets you on the counter. Her eyes damn near boggling while watching the recoil of your breast from being sat down so hard. 

She grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it over your head, exposing your chest. Seeing her so animalistic and feral was making your stomach feel inflamed. A deep blush covering your face and neck while wetness starts to drip down your folds; Logan herself felt a heartbeat in her jeans. Your noses were pressed together and you could smell the whiskey on her breath. Normally it would bother you but it was undeniable that when Logan was drunk she didn’t hold back during sex. Normally she was more gentle, enjoying giving you pleasure. The liquor made her more brutish and unfiltered and it was so fucking hot. 

Hearing all the filth that slipped past her lips that normally went unheard due to her shyness. Using her strength against you, biting down on your soft skin with brutal force. Logan pecked your lips before moving down to your chest. Taking one of your nipples into her mouth and starts sucking and flicking her tongue. You ran your fingers through her hair and moaned loudly. Arching your back and balling your fists up in her hair. Your legs immediately begin to tremble from the pleasure. So sensitive from the anticipation that has been building in your belly all day. Resting your lips on the top of her head while groaning and whimpering into her hair. She pulled your panties to the side and used her middle finger to feel around your folds. 

Smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing two fingers into your entrance. She was completely zoned out, having your tit in her mouth while curling and pumping her fingers in and out of you. Any time she nips at the senstative bud you tighten yourself around her fingers; only encouraging her to do it more. Your walls felt so velvety against her digits. She broke out of her daze and pulled away from you slightly to see your face and God what a sight it was. You were completely red in the face, practically panting trying to catch your breath. 

Eyebrows furrowed and nipples puffy and swollen; a light from above the kitchen island shining down on you. Making your chest glisten from the saliva covering your breast. You pulled her onto the counter to join you and started tugging at her jeans, which she quickly took off. Laying her back against the cold tile of the island. Before climbing on top of her, you sink your tongue between her folds. Spitting and flicking your tongue around, looking up to see Logan on her elbows. Cursing and sputtering while pushing herself against your mouth. Getting a little too excited you reach up and try grabbing at her chest. She snatches your wrists and pulls you towards her; now straddling her, you knees on either side of her hips.

 “I’m not that drunk,” she huffs and starts gripping your hips, prompting you to start grinding your hips. 

Now rubbing each other's sexes together, your wet folds sliding between one another. The tile was hurting your knees a bit but it didn’t stop you from quickening your pace. Finding the perfect rhythm, your clits continuously brushing against each other. Logan was arching her hips up, positioning herself so she could watch you ride her. Sitting up on her elbows and watching your tits bounce, saliva dripping onto her stomach. Too pussy-drunk to care if you were drooling or not.

“I’m cumming…” you groan out, taking her off guard.

Grabbing two handfuls of Logan's hair and pinning her fisting to the counter below you two. Your fists on either side of her head while riding out your orgasm. Squirting without stopping grinding your hips, causing the wetness to spread and spalsh all over Logan’s stomach. She immediately cums from watching you unraveling into a squirting fucked out mess. Digging her nails into your hips while thrusting her hips up, trying to get closer to you. Crying out, so overstimulated and jerking your hips forward. You collapsed on her chest, not giving a fuck about sleeping in your own wetness. Logan was too drunk to care, using the tee shirt to cover you like a blanket and falling asleep with you on her chest.

[kvroomi]

imagine spider-man!gojo and spider-woman!reader, who both work together harmoniously throughout the city as a pair of vigilantes—unaware of each other’s identities and just how prevalent they both are in one another’s lives outside of fighting crime. it’s an unconventional meeting and it’s almost sunrise. after a mission together, they’ve both stopped by the same convenience store for some food.

it’s quiet, the buzz of the fluorescent lights casting a faint glow to the packaging of the bright blue can of energy drink. the bold words are promising of enough caffeine to keep you upright for the next twelve hours. though you stand there, frozen for a moment, battling an internal debate about whether you should just skip dinner and head to bed with an empty (and hungry) stomach—or destroy it with sugar. you decide with the latter and pick up the can to drop it into your basket with a sigh. the weight of it feels much heavier in your hand than it should.

“energy blast? didn’t think you were into fine dining.”

you freeze mid-step, mentally cursing the universe for its lack of mercy. you’d like to think you’d know that voice anywhere; it wasn’t something endearing, rather your body was sent into fight or flight at even just the mention of his name.

slowly you turned to face him, and sure enough, there he was—gojo. he’s leaning against the shelf, his sunglasses (yes, he wore them even at midnight), are perched obnoxiously on his nose. they shine with the garish lighting, forcing you into a squint when your eyes catch the bright reflection.

you almost groan at the sight of his bag. it’s a war zone of sour gummies, chocolate bars, and what looked suspiciously like a can of whipped cream.

“i could say the same for you,” your voice is measured, a conscious effort to exhibit a fake, but convincing act of nonchalance. “what is that anyways? is it for dessert or are you trying to send yourself into a sugar-induced coma?”

he grinned, the kind of lopsided smile that could make angels weep—or villains run, depending on the day. “don’t knock it ‘til you try it. some of us know how to live a little.”

“suuuuure,” rolling your eyes as you reply, unconvinced. “if living means 7 different cavities for each day of the week.”

gojo chuckled, low and easy. he shifted closer. it’s a split millisecond reaction and you immediately notice his subtle limp. anyone would’ve missed it—anyone but you.

of course you did. it wasn’t much, just a tiny hesitation. but paired with the faint bruise just under his jaw, it set off a hundred silent alarms in your head.

you’d seen him like this before. maybe not to the extent of his injuries today, but something more frayed at the edges—like he’d been somewhere he shouldn’t.

“what happened there?” gojo stills for a second, confused at what you’re referring to.

you point at your jaw, mirroring the placement of his bruise.

he blinked, momentarily caught off guard before his grin widened.

"oh, this?" tapping his jaw lightly, he continued. “you wouldn't believe me if i told you."

"try me."

"i got into a fight with a revolving door," he says, straight-faced. "it was me or the glass, and well..."

you rolled your eyes. "right. because that sounds believable."

"hey, revolving doors are dangerous," he insisted. "you’re lucky you weren't there—i would've had to save you too."

"sounds like you need saving from yourself," you retort, not being able to help the small smile tugging at your lips.

with another roll your eyes, you turned back to the shelf. letting your eyes drift across the many labels of caffeinated drinks, you couldn’t help but focus on his presence looming behind you. it was always like this with gojo—relentless.

you’d met him a year ago when you started working at the same community arts center. you taught weekend workshops for kids, and gojo occasionally ran their afterschool programs—though ran was a generous term for what he did.

he wasn't the kind of coworker you'd ever expected to become friends with, though somehow, you had. maybe it was the way he always brought you coffee to meetings, even if each drink tasted more like sugar and coffee than coffee and sugar. or maybe it was how he managed to charm every kid in the building, no matter how much the kid may have disliked him in the beginning.

"late-night inspiration, huh?" he motioned toward the can in your hand.

"something like that," you sighed, avoiding his gaze by picking up another energy drink and putting it back

"what’re you working on?"

you pause, hand mid-air and debating how much to say.

"just some commissions."

"commissions," he repeated, like the word was a personal affront. "what happened to making art for fun?"

"some of us have rent to pay, gojo. who are you to talk anyway? you sign up for extra shifts just to win over the kids with pizza and candy."

gojo grinned. "that’s called strategy, sweetheart. you wouldn't understand."

you snorted, finally turning to face him. "and what's this strategy for?” you towards his basket and pick up a packet of gummies, inspecting it before tossing it back in. "new teaching method? bribery?"

"bribery's underrated," he returns with a shake of his head.

"but no, this is for me. sometimes a guy just needs sugar and carbs you know?"

you couldn't stand him half the time, but you'd also begrudgingly admitted—if only to yourself—that he was good company.

“long day?” you’re careful to keep your tone casual as you ask.

his grin doesn’t waver, and if it does you don’t notice—but his hand tightened around the basket handle. “me? nah. what about you? busy day brooding over your sketchpad?”

you smile and try to catch his eye, “something like that.”

though gojo’s gaze wasn’t on your face anymore. he’d drifted lower, catching sight of the faint rip in your jacket sleeve. you cursed inwardly; it was barely noticeable—a tiny tear at the seam where a stray shard of glass had nicked you earlier tonight. his gaze lingered like it was written in neon.

“what happened there?” his voice is light and almost lazy, but you could see the wheels turning behind his glasses.

“nothing.” you shrugged it off. “snagged it on a doorframe.”

“uh-huh.” his voice drops just enough to make the air feel warmer. “must’ve really hated that doorframe.”

you force a laugh, jaw tightening in nervousness and step past him toward the register. “not as much as i hate this conversation.”

gojo didn’t follow immediately, but you could feel his eyes on your back like a second shadow. by the time you reached the counter, he was also there, leaning against the opposite side of the aisle with his basket balanced precariously on one hand.

“funny,” he announces after a beat, his tone too casual. “you’ve got a thing for clumsy doorframes, and i’ve got a thing for evil revolving doors. guess we’re not so different, huh?”

you glanced at him in annoyance, searching his face for any crack in his mask. but there’s nothing—just that insufferable grin and sunglasses, hiding every flicker of thought behind his ridiculous confidence.

“guess not,” you breathe out, grabbing your drink and heading for the door.

“don’t stay up too late,” he calls after you, his voice dripping with amusement. “you wouldn’t want to run into any more furniture.”

you don’t turn around, and you don’t respond with another witty retort either. instead, you choose to instead flick a halfhearted wave over your shoulder. outside, the night air was cool against your skin, washing away the tension coiled in your chest.

as you rounded the corner, you allowed yourself a small smile. gojo was sharp—too sharp for his own good. but he wasn’t there yet, not tonight.

behind you and still inside the store, gojo stood frozen in place. his grin had dispersed just enough to reveal the furrow in his brow. his thumb traced absentmindedly over his basket handle as he replayed the conversation in his head.

for someone as quick on her feet as you, he knew that explanation didn’t add up. but then again, his limp and bruise wasn’t exactly subtle either.

KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE

[blackdollette]

"i know what the boys want." — r.c. & j.m.

lolita. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: ...like sweet and sour, with just a drizzle of cream...

⊹₊⋆ pairing: hard!dom!rafe x sweetheart!jj x female!reader

⊹₊⋆ word count: 1.0k

⊹₊⋆ contents: double penetration ( spitroast position ), blowjob, unprotected vaginal penetration, slight degradation, slight praise, creampie, slight roughness, masturbation

the aroma of sweat, the feeling of flesh, and the overwhelming presence of the buzzing hormones in the room cloaked you like an cold blanket, leaving all your nerve endings standing on edge. fast and painful thrusts discoloured the soft flesh of your ass just a tinge, an equally fast thrusting causing your throat to bulge and throb. you gazed up at jj, your big and teary eyes begging for just a second of relief while secretly hoping he would never stop. he groaned deeply, his lip tightly tucked underneath his teeth as his aching balls slapped against your chin, leaving stray drops of spit and precum trailing down your neck.

the headboard of the bed thumped against the wall with each synchronized thrust.

 “c’mon man, she puffing up like a blowfish. you don’t wanna kill her, do you?” rafe taunted as his calloused thumb tortured your puffy clit. 

the irony of his statement laid in the fact that he was the one who was rearranging your guts, making sure your pussy would remember every vein, curve and crevice of his cock for days, even weeks to come. 

jj snickered in response, using a calloused thumb to stroke your flushed, tear-strained cheek.. “i’m not worried about her. our princess can take it…”

rafe’s grip on your ass only tightened more as he tossed his head back in ecstasy, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he buried himself inside of your uterus.

“...you pogues like it rough, huh, kid…?” he muttered between moans, not missing the glare jj swiftly shot him.

your muffled moans and stifled whimpers didn’t go unheard by the two blondes, only fueling their impure intentions further. 

rafe was a classy man, his ironed polo lying neatly on the floor with his jeans to his knees whilst he fucked you, with jj contrastingly stripped naked to the bone, save for the dangling lanyard that hung from his neck, his loaded cannon playing peek-a-boo with your esophagus and nearly meeting rafe’ cock on the other side. he had a fistful of your hair in his grip, watching thick bubbles of spit and precum cascade down your neck.

gasping for a breath of air, you pulled your swollen lips off of jj’s expanded length, lazily stroking the girth to make up for the absence of your mouth. you buried your face into the mattress, your brain going dumber by the second as rafe ruthlessly invaded your guts.

the juxtaposition present in the room was not lost on you, even more so as jj’s ring-adorned fingers gently wiped away your tears.

“...goddamn… atta girl. look at me for a sec, mama… wanna see that pretty face…” jj cooed as he ran a hand through his sandy, tousled hair, his other hand gently encouraging your face to angle upward.

rafe, his thrusts not having reduced in force in the slightest, leans forward and locks your neck between his forearm and bicep, his arm toned form years of violent tendencies.

“...y’heard what he said, bitch… fuckin’ look at him.” rafe’s low voice growled in your ear, his breath against your skin sending a shiver through all your nerve endings.

pushing you back down, rafe grabs yet another handful of your hair, forcing your gaze up to the man in front of you, who’d been sloppy getting himself off, watching the mess you’d become with infatuation.

he brought his cock back to your lips, tracing them with his tip and lubricating them with his salty seed before pushing in the girth once again, his hands gripping the sides of your face as his thrusts resumed.

your tight pussy clenched around rafe’s girth, pleading for him to keep his rabid pace. “you want this cock real bad, don't you?” he tossed his head back as your gummy walls swallowed him whole. “‘’ts all yours, baby… all fuckin’ yours.”

though jj wasn’t speaking much, his actions spoke louder than any word he could manage to utter. with every thrust, slap and push from him was followed by a gag, whimper or spit from you. his hips ground into your mouth as he brutally fucked your face, your throat bruising quickly from the friction but being soothed by the precum that lubricated his path.

“...s-shit. you’re somethin’ else, y’know that? …somethin’ real fuckin’ special…” he groaned lowly, the praises being laced with more fondness than he knew how to deal with.

rafe toyed with your pussy from behind, trailing his thumb up and down your wet slit as it swelled from overstimulation. your back arched as you pushed your hips into his, wanting to feel him in every part of you. 

the men groaned out slurred profanities in unison as your body contracted from the pleasure. you flicked your tongue along jj’s tip, your pussy pulsating around rafe. jj forced your jaw open a little more, wanting to make a lasting impact on his final blow.

rafe pushed your legs even further apart, cum spilling down the inside of your thighs as your limbs began to tremble. your eyes sealed shut, all your senses disabling as a discombobulating wave of pleasure and release hit you like a freight train. rafe’ nails dug into your flesh as he landed one last thrust, your hole swelling from being filled up like a sweet, creamy dessert.

as jj was about to reach his climax, he whipped his cock out of your mouth, shooting his strings onto your face and aiming specifically for your dangling tits. you collapsed onto the mattress, mind buzzing as you felt your insides pouring out of you.

the feeling was divine, so surreal that you found yourself wondering if the moment really happened. all the buzzing hormones, your pumping heartbeat, and swollen holes dripping as a result of synonymous could’ve all been nothing but a particularly ideal dream. but your doubts were dismissed as you felt one soft pair of lips graze your cheek softly, murmuring one last, soft praise, but receiving nothing from the other.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

Oooh, that one's fun! Thank you for tagging me <3

Tagging anyone who wants to and also @careful-pyromancer @atlasifyllm and @euphoniouspandemonium (only if you wanna!)

Hey guys! I wanna do a create yourself picrew chain with my favourite picrew :) tag 5 people (or more. or less im not your mom) once ur done.

here’s mine :))

tagging: @a-dotrivenitupontop​, @c4i-r0​, @xxriotgrrrlb0yxx​, @clumpofglitter​, @tennis-spawn​, @0beetle-legs0​ and literally anyone else who wants to do it

[holybibly]

hmmm shy recently presented omega has a crush on older omega hwa......... but it's too embarrassed to confess because she thinks alphaxomega are meant to be but wants so so bad to mix slick with hwa

૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

Oh baby, I love this so much.

Our gorgeous Omega Seonghwa, lovingly caring for the little innocent Omega who doesn't even know that Hwa is just waiting to wrap her up in his silky sheets.

NSFW link highlighted in text

It was easy to fall in love with Seonghwa - it was too easy. He was soft, gentle, radiant and so beautiful that just the sight of his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Park Seonghwa was perfect.

Park Seonghwa was the perfect Omega.

In a society where all relationships are based on the second gender, Omega couples didn't stand a chance, your parents used to tell you.

"One day, you will find an Alpha who is worthy of you."

When you presented yourself as an Omega on your 21st birthday, your mother told you. But you didn't want an Alpha. You wanted Seonghwa.

You loved him so much that you went to work at the kindergarten where Seonghwa was teaching.

He had the scent of strawberries and champagne, a perfect match for your delicate scent of whipped cream and white chocolate. Everything inside you knew that you were made for Seonghwa, but the gendered framework your parents put you in prevented you from even hinting at how you felt.

And even if you did, you were sure that Seonghwa would reject you; why would he want a shy little Omega when he had so many beautiful Alphas all around him? Of course, Seonghwa was dating; he often went out, and the next day he shyly hid countless purple hickeys on his thin, long neck. You always wanted to be the one who would leave them on his neck.

He didn't often tell you about his one-night stands, even though you were friends. Or Seonghwa was friends with you while you drooled over him and embarrassedly flowed for him. It was terribly awkward and embarrassing for you to admit it, but your panties were always wet because of his presence. As if your desire for him was not already obvious, your body clearly showed its willingness to give in to him and allow Seonghwa to claim you as his own. Allow another Omega to be your mate.

It was almost a year of unrequited longing for Seonghwa until one day you met Yunho. He was a tall, charming Alpha with a face that made you want to get married.

Yunho was a great distraction from your slightly painful love for Seonghwa, and you were happy about it, or so it seemed. While your relationship with Yunho was on the rise, your friendship with Seonghwa was on the decline. He was pulling away from you, becoming quieter and more withdrawn. His beautiful, sparkling eyes became distant and dull when he looked at you, and his juicy and delicious strawberry smell became sour in your presence.

You searched desperately for the reason for such a drastic change, but you were never able to understand what exactly was your fault until one night.

You and Yunho were already at the stage in your relationship where sex was almost a vital part of it. And although the Alpha was a true gentleman and did not insist on anything, you were no fool and understood perfectly well that if you spent the coming heat separately, your relationship would come to an end.

You didn't even know who to talk to about it because you had never had sexual experience with an Alpha before. That was until your eyes fell on Seonghwa. So you plucked up the courage and went up to the older Omega.

"Hwa, I'd like to have a word with you in private, if that's ok?" Already feeling the mucus leaking from your hole and staining your underwear, you shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. As always, your body gave an automatic greeting to Seonghwa.

His lips parted, and his tongue flicked out a little to lick the plump pink flesh before he swallowed loudly and gave you a reply.

"Are you able to come over to my house today?"

"Yeah, sure." You gave a sweet nod. "Thanks a lot, Seonghwa."

It was hot, wet, and sweet, and yes, sweet, because Seonghwa tasted exactly the same way—morbidly sweet. How you ended up here—in the silky bed of Omega Park Seonghwa, with his long tongue between your legs—you have no idea.

As agreed, you came to see him in the evening, nervous and overwhelmed, hoping to talk about the coming heat and how to spend it with Yunho, but it didn't go as planned.

"Seonghwa..." You moaned loudly as Seonghwa's tongue carefully licked your pussy and you arched back on the bed. Your slime poured out of you like a waterfall. It mixed with Seonghwa's and filled the room with the incredibly decadent scent of strawberries and cream, with the finest hint of white chocolate and sparkling champagne.

"You're so perfect, Princess. Perfect for me, no Alpha could ever have you; you were made just for me," he said. With each letter spoken, his plump, soft lips touched your pussy, his hot breath flowing around the sensitive folds, stimulating you further.

All this made your head spin. You couldn't believe that Seonghwa, who you had been in love with for so long, was fucking you in his bed right now.

The excitement becomes unbearable and you can feel the knot in your stomach burning.

Seonghwa smiles as he notices the way your hips unconsciously arch to meet his tongue and lips. His own excitement grows every time your legs try to close around his head and a trembling moan escapes your throat.

He has been dreaming about you for so long, imagining this moment a thousand times, going mad thinking about tasting you and making you his. Seonghwa had always wanted you, and after he had smelled the creamy slime of you for the first time, his desire had become almost painful. He had planned everything, had thought of your whole life in advance and was just about to ask you for a date when Yunho appeared and all of his plans were shattered like glass.

The handsome Alpha was like a bone in his throat. He tried to distance himself from you, to let you go your own way with a sweet Alpha who would love you and respect you. But every night when he fell asleep, Seonghwa imagined him kissing you, worshipping your body with his lips and tongue. He imagined him tasting you, mixing your mucus and his on your tongues while you moaned into each other's mouths. Seonghwa wanted you and now that he had you, he wasn't going to let you go. He is making you his.

As Seonghwa's lips wrap around your clit, sucking lightly, you unconsciously spread your legs wider for him. You arch your back sharply as the older Omega worships your beautiful swollen cunt with her magnificent mouth. He kisses it hungrily and lets out a moan of his own as he feels the slickness of your dripping into his mouth.

The whimpers, moans, sighs, and Seonghwa's loud slurping sounds of shameless cunt eating bounce off the walls of the elder Omega's exquisite bedroom as you writhe and tremble under his ministrations.

His big, shining eyes never leave your sweet, flushed face, but as soon as you take your eyes off him, the stimulation immediately stops.

"Have a look at me, my love. Look at how I am enjoying you; I love you so much." Seonghwa's voice sounds almost desperate in your mind, which is clouded by lust. You nod and quickly look back to meet the eyes of the gorgeous Omega.

His long, deft tongue touches your plump clit as he sucks sweetly on it. It sends shivers down your spine. Tiny beads of sweat roll down your heated skin, and you feel like you're suffocating. Your cum stains Seonghwa's face and silk sheets, older Omega's own oozing from his pretty pink hole. Seonghwa has been fucked many times in his life, but it was always his dream to fuck you, and for some reason he was sure it would be a million times better than the knot of some worthless Alpha.

Your hips jerk forward, and Seonghwa's face literally buries itself in your sweet pussy. He doesn't mind at all and eats you up with even more devotion and passion. As you get closer and closer to coming, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

You close your eyes for just a second, but it is enough for Seonghwa to stop and ruin the orgasm you are about to experience. The line between pain and pleasure is so blurred that it may not exist at all. The fire burns beneath your soft skin and pulls a frustrated moan out of your throat.

The excitement is running through your veins, making you tremble in Seonghwa's arms, and your pussy is clenching around nothing. You struggle to catch your breath, still shaking from the intensity of the experience. The only thing that occupies your hazy mind is the burning sensation between your legs. You have never been touched before; you have never allowed anyone to caress your body; no one before Seonghwa, and these sensations are literally destroying you from the inside out.

As Seonghwa runs his finger around your small, shrinking hole, you let out a high-pitched whimper. You feel the tip of the Omega's finger caress your silky walls as it penetrates you, and you squirm in an attempt to get more of the necessary stimulation from one finger.

The two fingers that are already inside you are gently curling, stretching, and spreading until your mucus soaks the whole of Seonghwa's hand and runs down his forearm, making you so wet that he can slide a third long finger into you without any resistance. Then Seonghwa jerks his hand back sharply and watches as your whole body trembles from the intense stimulation and as your pretty little mouth opens in a soft cry of pleasure. 

He can't wait for your lips to wrap around the flowing head of his cock and press against his own wet hole so that you can get a taste of his slickness.

Seonghwa slides his long fingers in again, enjoying your delicious squeal before he stops moving. You let out a whimper; the sound was soft and pitiful.

"Seonghwa, please..." You arch on Seonghwa's fingers, buried deep in your pussy, jerking your hips in treacherous desire.

The older Omega leans closer to you, kissing and licking the soft pink folds of your cunt, greedily gulping down every drop of your slick like a drunk.

His lips wrap around your swollen clit once more and pull it into his beautiful, hot mouth. It is at this moment that the words seem to leave you completely, your voice dissolving into incoherent cries and moans.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the damp silk sheets beneath you, now soaked in a mixture of your own and Seonghwa's mucus. Your eyes are glazed over, but you can't take your eyes off the stunning Omega between your legs, his lips enveloping your pussy.

Eventually you can't hold out any longer, your orgasm growing stronger by the second.

"I'm so close, Seonghwa, oh my God..."

"Come on, darling, cum... please cum for me; I want to see your face when you cum on another Omega's fingers and mouth." Seonghwa answers you before he starts swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit again.

His simple permission is enough to make you come in an obedient manner. The orgasm spreads visibly through your body; your moans mix with Seonghwa's; you feel the vibrations on your pussy; your mucus flows uncontrollably out of your hole; and Hwa swallows it as if he's dying of thirst. His fingers continue to stroke your tender walls from the inside.

Your whole body is shaking so much that it's hard to tell when exactly you've come again, splashing out streams of mucus out of you and making the bed underneath you wet. Seonghwa feels his own hole tighten as you orgasm, his cock twitching painfully against his flat stomach. You two are an absolute mess—a wet and slippery tangle of bodies in love. He doesn't care how disgusting you look now; everything is covered in mucus and saliva. Now you belong to him, and he will never, ever let you go. Even if he has to put up a real fight, Seonghwa will fight to the death for you.

You were created for him and only for him, and the fact that nature did not make him an Alpha is not a sign that he will ever sacrifice his love.

You had the impression that your soul was on its way out of your body. You squirmed in Seonghwa's arms, searching for something to keep you grounded in reality. Your trembling hand wrapped itself around the hand of the older Omega that was between your legs. Seonghwa continues to caress you, curling his fingers around you and hitting that delicious spot inside you again and again.

Your toes are curling up, you are choking on your own moans, and tears are flowing freely down your flushed cheeks as the stimulation becomes so overwhelming that you are struggling to stay conscious.

And then another orgasm hits you, sending you over the edge and tearing a loud moan of Seonghwa's name out of your throat.

With a last soft kiss on your clit, Seonghwa pulls away and you suddenly go limp, like a puppet that has been cut from its strings, and you fall limply onto the mattress, your breathing becoming short and rapid. Seonghwa smiles at you tenderly and wipes the mucus from his chin with the palm of his hand before licking it off of his hand.

"I am so in love with you, starlight." He whispers and gives you a tender kiss on the cheek, enjoying the salty tears he can feel on his lips.

After a while, you finally come down from your high and bury your face in Seonghwa's shoulder, breathing heavily as you do so. The older Omega lets out a soft sigh and kisses your forehead, holding you close to him.

"My love for you is more than words can express." There is no point in hiding it any longer, you are crazy in love and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. You feel a sense of peace and contentment in this embrace, in the warmth of your closeness. You feel that you belong to each other at last.

"I am more in love with you than life itself, my princess." Seonghwa whispers back to you, his voice heavy with emotion and filled with sincerity and warmth.

As you embrace each other, the world around you seems to disappear, leaving only the warmth of your love between you.

[bahrtofane]

soapy oh soapy

jude looses his lucky charm and looses his mind in the process

word count - 1.5K+

watch it - HAPPY ARPIL FOOLS. the most unserious fic to date ( jk theres one more coming )

p.s. -big shout out to my friends @aloejuicebr for fueling this madness u guys are real ones and even bigger shout to plooki @yayam26 for making soapy missing poster

-----

You end up forcing jude to do skin care with you after begging him for weeks because you just know you can work your magic and make him feel the best he’s ever felt. All you need is a night in. And time. Lots of time 

After some persuasion and begging, pouty lips and puppy eyes, he gives in. 

“Fine.” is all he says while you’re in his living room, legs over his watching a movie that you've long ignored in favor of bothering him. 

But you’re already giggling. Picking out a headband you want him to wear in your head. Pink care bear one it is. The night comes on a rainy day, he has a rare day off the next morning, so you want him to start it on a good note. 

You’re getting ready for bed, in your pjs, jumping about while you get your little baggie full of goodies out. 

“Here,” you hand him the headband,” put this on” pink care bear one just like you envisioned. 

He takes it, feeling the soft material while he hums, “what’s this for?”

“Keeps things out of your hair.” you smile, dragging him to his bathroom. You take about a hundred pictures, and he poses for you for each one. Giggling while you coach him into poses. You think you'll send a few to Jobe for good measure. 

You face the sink and think of a game plan. Eyeing the counter  

It’s here you first lay eyes on soapy. 

“Jude what the hell is that? "You grimace, looking at what looks like a dry stump of white something, sitting on its own little ceramic dish. 

Jude looks away, scratching the back of his neck, mumbling something under his breath. 

You swing your little kit on the sink counter, setting a hand on your hip,”what was that?” 

He sighs dramatically, putting his face in his hands,”it’s my good luck charm. soapy,” he wails. 

You snort, patting his back, “I'm sure he’s very uh lucky,” you give it a small pat. 

“No he is,” Jude brings his head up to face you, “ I know it. I've had him since before dortmund. “ he nods proudly. 

You grimace,”you’ve had a piece of soap for years?”

He only nods harder. 

“Okay jude. Whatever you say. “ 

“I am not getting rid of him,” he points a finger in your face. One that you gently move, pulling his hand into your own. 

“I didn't say get rid of him. Let’s get your skincare started, yeah?”

He nods, following you through the steps like a lost puppy. leaning down while you help him apply the creams and foams just right 

When it’s all set and done, he wiggles into bed happy as can be. Sighing deeply, “that was actually really nice. Thank you. “ 

peck! right on your nose. 

you laugh, “told you it would be nice. “ 

your next plan is to find a way to deal with soapy…

——-

Jude loses soapy. It becomes a whole fiasco. He can’t find him in the usual small little pocket in his duffel bag in the usual ziplock baggie. 

He’s frantic at his hotel, tearing his things apart, looking and relooking at the bottom of his suitcase. His jacket pockets, his pants pockets. 

He tries to think. Did he leave him in his bathroom? No. Can't be it. He remembers putting him inside the familiar zip lock baggie while getting the rest of his things ready. Where in the world did he go. 

His soapy. His poor soapy! How is he supposed to live in these conditions. He’s never. ever missed a single game without soapy. What is he supposed to do now? Loose?? There goes his good luck down the drain. Years of good performance is about to take a nosedive. 

When he’s set to do his routine face time with you pre game, you pick up on his sour mood. But he only brushes it off, blaming it on pre game nerves 

You don’t believe him, but don’t want to press

Jude pends 20 minutes locked inside the bathroom, head in his hands while he scolds himself. It’s a bar of soap he wants to scream, pull yourself together. But he can’t. Soapy has become more than just a silly little joke. He’s become attached to soapy, a part of his routine. He’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone 

For now he sighs, smoothing his jersey down and getting ready to get on the pitch. 

——-

The only thing that’s been in his mind is getting back home and getting to the bottom of the mystery. Unfortunately for him, soapy is nowhere to be found in the bathroom. Not in the living room. The kitchen. The hallway. He thinks of hiring a cleaning team, but what is he supposed to say ? 

Oh hey guys clean my house and also be on the lookout for a dried out stick of white that looks like a finger haha. 

No. Absolutely not. 

He takes to his own devices and begins to tear apart his house in a desperate search for his beloved soapy. He spends the whole day on his hands and knees looking under places he didn’t even know his house had to begin with, squeezing under and into spaces he’s sure gonna regret tomorrow. 

It’s already dark out when he calls it quits. Nothing but a few bruises to show for it. 

He’s really lost him huh. 

——-

His behavior is soon picked up by teammates, coaches and staff. The usual cheery youthful Jude is replaced by a damp sluggish cranky one.

He’s silent at training, chewing the inside of his cheek while going through the familiar motions of each drill. 

Eduardo comes to him after they hit the showers, squeaky clean and ready to go home. 

“You good?”

Jude gives him a bashful nod, “yeah man. just a little worn out, don't worry.”

He gets a clap on the shoulder in response, and gives a tight lipped smile back. He’s gotta figure this out or it will start to affect more than just his mood. How stupid of him to let an old slice of a soap bar affect him so much. 

A little piece of him can guess why. Soapy is one of the very few stable things in his life. And perhaps the only stable physical thing. something to count on. Something to be able to rely on. Unchanging. 

But now that he’s gone and lost it ? jeez. 

——-

You show up to his house on a cloudy day, his favorite snacks under your arm. He greets you with a kiss, but you see the way his eyes droop and sag. What's wrong with your golden boy? 

He leads you to the living room where you make yourself at home. Plopping down on the couch and handing him his things. 

He takes them gingerly, setting them on the kitchen counter while he takes a seat across from you 

you frown, “Jude. What's wrong? “

He looks away, playing with his hands, knee bouncing. Okay what is going on that’s gotten him so worked up

“Baby…” you try, scooting closer to him. 

He screws his eyes shut, bawling his hands into fists, “I lost soapy,” 

oh. 

Your gaze softens, “You lost him? When?”

He sighs, cracking an eye open, when he sees you aren’t making fun of him he opens both, relaxing. 

“I don't know. when we played villareal away I couldn’t find him. Then i got back and tore this place up and still no luck.” arms falling into his lap. 

You place a hand on his knee. Gentle. Soft. 

“He couldn't have gotten far. I'm sure he’s somewhere obvious. “ 

“I guess,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch. 

You smile, letting him lean against you. He's so cute when he pouts. You like babying him anyway. The rest of the day is spent with his head in your lap while you press occasional kisses to his face, letting keeping up with the kardashians play in the background. 

When it’s time for you to leave, Jude whines, pouting and asking you to stay just a little more.

“It's already late jude, I would if I could you know that. “

He huffs, “I guess. “ 

You forgot about your bags laying on the kitchen counter, might as well put them away before you go. 

Jude gets up to help, sliding against the hardwood and meeting you in the kitchen

He grabs a chair from the island in the middle, bringing it to him and a little baggie falls from it. Is that what he thinks it is ? He picks it up faster than you can turn around and almost screams. He could cry tears of joy 

It’s soapy. 

You were right. It was right in front of him all along 

He holds up the bar for you to see and you smile, “see. told you. “

He nods, “yes you did,” kissing your lips as a thank you 

You hum, patting his head when you pull apart, “glad you found soapy.” 

Maybe soapy isn’t so bad after all. 

[writingwisterias]

Blood in the Snow

DI!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Blood, gunshots, gunshot wound, near death, storms, angst, Platonic or Romantic relationship

Summary: You should be bitter towards him, he was always bitter to you. but what happens when a mission goes wrong leaving you to care for Leon as a rookie of the DSO, (Set between Vendetta and Death Island but leans closer to Death Island)

Your footprints crunched in the snow as you made your way through the forest, the cold biting through the thermals that covered your skin. The forest was covered in a white mist, one that seemed to darken as the hours passed, evidence of an incoming storm. Your head is wrapped snugly in a grey beanie and a scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck protecting your cheeks from the frozen wind. A stupid item, Leon had grumbled about questioning if it was actually practical when you might have to run throughout the forest. Leon was a few feet ahead of you seemingly unbothered by the weather; you couldn't remember whenever he had put thermals on this morning before you both headed out into the cold. Your cold hands itched to take in some of his warmth whenever it was to slide them up under his jacket or hold his hands, instead, you resulted in blowing your hot breath over your frosted fingers. "Why can't evil scientists make their labs in normal locations for once?" You grumbled from beside him as you finally caught up with him. Leon scoffed his eyes glancing briefly in your direction - the fact that he even acknowledged your joke was a huge step in the development of your relationship.

The DSO had a bunch of new recruits, and their papers were ranked in order of their probability of success and skill. You had the luck of being paired with Leon Kennedy after having similar reports after the Boot camp. Normally anyone would have literally creamed over getting him to be your trainer but not you. His gaze was less than welcoming and his guidance normally resulted in bossy remarks and groans when you would accidentally mess something up. It always felt like 1 step forward and 2 steps back with him.

His anger and hatred against the world and his job made you grow curious, often wondering what had happened to him and why he was so admired but you knew better than to question where he had gained fame around the building. Leon wasn't blind he saw how the recruits had treated you since you were paired together. They snarl and whisper in jealousy as you both walk through the corridors. He pitted you, how out of all the other capable agents they paired you with him, the bitter and sour one. Maybe they thought your enthusiasm for the job would bring him back; make him happy to serve and protect again as if everything he went through didn't matter. He appreciated you never seemed to be bothered by his bitterness, often ignoring the side remarks with an eye roll or a grumble under your breath. He admired how quick and nimble you were, easily avoiding targets and completing the jobs quietly when needed and it was easy to see how you were top of the new recruits.

You cursed as you sank in the snow, your trousers now damp and cold, biting at what little warmth you had left in your body. "Don't you think it's suspicious how quiet it is?" you spoke as your eyes danced around the treeline, your device blinking your location as you approached closer to the target point. "It is," Leon responded bluntly, his eyes scanning the treelines as well. His hand outstretched in front of you holding you back from continuing before he slowly raised a finger to his lips signalling your silence. Your eyes peered into the icy darkness attempting to see what Leon had become concerned about, a storm was rapidly falling over the landscape now the mist was now nearly opaque.

The first gunshot made you jump, the sound bouncing around the treeline after it missed you; the both of you instantly went back to back creating a small circle in the snow as you spun around slowly. An eerie silence fell upon the woods. "I don't like this," Leon muttered as he came to a stop. His back was tense, the muscles tight you could feel it against your own. Your arms ached from holding the gun so tightly, and your eyes became sore from peering into the white snow. The second shot caused you both to run, and the action was made with great difficulty due to the deep snow, using the trenches you had created after wading through the deep snow. The mission was now abandoned, Leon shouting for backup behind you, his voice barely audible with the harsh winds that now whipped at you. The two of you knew that the back wouldn't be able to get to you tonight, the storm making it too difficult for the heli to land meaning you had to make it to the safe house cabin hoping the incoming storm provided you both with enough cover to get there.

The final shot was followed with a painful grunt as it finally hit the target, the snow next to you became spattered with red as Leon leant over, his hand gripping his side. "Leon?!" You whisper shouted moving yourself in front of him and pushing him behind you as you checked your backs for any incoming shadows. Your cold hands began prying at his jacket to take a look at the wound. His blood warmed your frozen fingertips, dripping onto the snow below you melting it.

"Get to the safe house" He grunted, his body shaking slightly. Your head snapped up at the sound of footsteps closing in. The two of you were like a doe in the meadow as the hunter's dogs slowly crept into the wounded animal - preparing for the kill. "I'm not leaving you" You replied, your bloodied hands now pulling away to take off the woven scarf and wrap it around his side. "Not so much of a useless item now is it" you joked as you secured it, tucking the loose ends in as you made sure the fabric was giving the wound enough pleasure to limit the blood flow. Leon grumbled under his breath as he felt the warm fabric heat his cold skin. "Remind me to get you a new one rookie" he joked, his eyes finally looking into yours.

He was shocked, he had expected to see your innocence in them, the excitement he always hated that laced throughout your body. But in this moment it was like he was looking into his younger self. You looked like if he were to die right here it would drastically change your outlook on life - just like Ada's disappearance did all those years ago, when her small hand slipped from his. He watched the determination creep into your features as you supported his weight, pulling him into your warmth as you trudged through the snow. In this moment he finally saw his life meant something to someone else, enough for them to put in this effort to get him to safety, so it would be enough for him to suck in a harsh breath and face the onslaught of cold wind that whipped at the two of you. His hands shook as they finally gripped at your waist allowing you to take more of his strength. He ignored the hand gripping at the wound where it was already becoming cracked and frozen from his blood.

The cabin door smacked against the walls as you pushed it open, Leon collapsing on the ground with a loud groan as he struggled to push himself up. "stop you idiot, that's how you hurt yourself more" you said as you fought against the wind to shut the door. You collapsed against it with a huff, taking a moment to regain your breath. "This doesn't feel great" Leon whimpered as he laid back on the floor, his skin was pale and clammy, his body now trying to fight away a growing fever and the blood loss. "you were shot Leon, that doesn't normally feel good" You replied bluntly as you knelt beside him, your cold fingers providing both relief and discomfort as you pried away the bloodied scarf. He tried to fight it for you, the growing exhaustion that began to take over him. But just like most things he thought he did, he failed as the injury succumbed him to sleep.

He awoke hours later to being warm, blankets thrown across him, the fire close enough to lick at his skin if he moved slightly. Leaning up against the brick of the fireplace his eyes landed on you. Your hair was ruffled and out of place, and your sleeve was splattered with blood as you stared into the dancing flames. Leon's eyes fell onto the medical supplies littered around the floor the sterile packaging pilling up in the corner. When he looked back at you again he was shocked to find you staring back. His heart beat faster as he watched a single tear leak from your eye. You looked so small like this, your hands wrapped around your knees holding everything in as if you were to move everything would come out. "You almost died asshole" You spoke, your voice cracking as the words came out. "You almost died and I-I didn't know what to do...fucking prick"

He deserved the words you spat at him, the insults and anger you had clearly built up over the past few months from being assigned to him. But he didn't deserve the care in them, the concern and tears that spilt from your eyes as you looked at him. "I-I'm sorry" he croaked out, his voice rough from the hours he had spent asleep on the hardwood floor. "The bullet didn't go clean through, I had to dig the fragments out. I had to sew you up and my hand wouldn't keep fucking still." You cried, burying your head in the crack of your knees.

Leon stared at you, all the words that formed in his head were lodged in his throat. His eyes filled with his own tears as he looked at your scared form, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire. His grunt caused your head to shoot up and your lips parted to protest his movements but were cut off when his arms wrapped around your frame. Leon's head fell on your shoulder as he pulled you close - holding you. "I'm sorry...for everything, you didn't deserve my burden on the world" He croaked out, his eyes watching your face intently as you took in his words. "You didn't deserve it either Leon"

His body flinched at your words, his arms tightening around you slightly as he took them in. He felt 21 again, desperate for touch and affection after running from a nightmare. Forced to serve an order he didn't believe in for the safety of a girl that ended up doing the thing he wanted to prevent her from doing. He protected everyone he loved constantly but who protected him? Who pushed him behind them instead? You did.

He felt you tighten your hold on him, the warmth of the fire crackling louder as if it were fueled by the moment. "Thank you" he whispered as he pulled away, grunting as he adjusted himself to sit next to you. You leaned into his shoulder, not willing to pull too far away from him just yet. "you owe me a new scarf"

Leon chuckled, his lips pressing against the crown of your head affectionately. His actions mimicked what he wanted someone to do after all the horrors he had faced. His shoulder provided a ground for you to finally rest, exhaustion creeping in. He admired you, more than he secretly already did. The way you didn't give up, helped him and healed him when it was easier to leave him to bleed out on the snow. He lifted his shirt to see the shaky attempt at stitching, the raised skin would leave a scar, but this is one he would look at with love. One that would remind him to keep going just a little bit longer, that there was more than all fighting. The final confirmation he needed to move forward.

[0cta9on]

And We Danced

Length: 1.1k words

Genre: Angst

Nmixx Lily x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Wrote this for a prompt thingy hosted by @mintwithchoco! Inspired by this really pretty song, do give it a listen if you have the chance :])

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“...and then he just brushes past me and immediately gets on his game!” Lily huffs, pacing around your room. “Like, I get that he’s tired and all that, but at least a ‘Hi’ would be nice!”

A song you don’t recognize blasts from your speaker, fiery and tumultuous to mimic the current emotions of your friend. With how often she comes over to your place to rant about her boyfriend, it’s a wonder how she doesn’t have a consistent playlist.

“What do you think? Am I just overreacting?” she asks, slumping onto your mattress.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

“Really? Because if I’m being crazy, I need you to tell me.”

“I know when you’re being crazy, but this isn’t one of those times.”

Lily chuckles before scooting next to you and resting her head on your shoulder. You swallow down the thoughts and words that threaten to burst from your chest, potentially ruining this good thing that you have. Things are fine. Calm down.

“What should I do now?” she asks, her words floating through the open air between the transition of songs. The next song brings in slow, melancholic piano chords paired with a heartbreaking story of unrequited love. Lily’s head sinks deeper into your shoulder like the weight of the lyrics is pulling her down and you’re her only means of support.

You should break up with him.

“You should talk to him,” you say, breathing steadily. “You said that this started happening recently, right? Maybe something happened to him and he just hasn’t told you yet. Most guys are stupid and don’t like talking about their feelings and all that mushy stuff.”

“Talk to him. Right,” she sighs. “You make it sound so simple.”

You shrug. “Things are always more difficult than they seem. It really depends on him for this to work out. You’re doing the best you can, and if he can’t see that then… maybe you should—”

Lily’s phone buzzes from across the room, prompting her to jump towards it with the desperation of a lost puppy finding its owner. Her warmth is stripped away from you in an instant, and the impending cold becomes a grim reminder that it was never yours in the first place. 

Her expression immediately sours as she checks the notification.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No.” Lily’s shoulders slump as she tosses her phone back on your desk with a resounding thud. “Bae just wants me to get her some ice cream on the way home.”

You fail to stifle a chuckle, earning an icy glare from those perfectly round eyes.

“I feel like I’m going insane.” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “What if I just end it all and jump off a cliff?”

“You definitely shouldn’t do that. How else will Bae get her ice cream?” you quip.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

The last bit of sunlight fades past the edge of your window just as the music dies down to give way to the next song. From the first note, you’re left reeling as memories of thumping heartbeats and unattainable closeness flood your mind like a tsunami. Flashing lights, the linoleum scent of the gym floors, your dad’s tie that your mom made you wear, every single excruciating detail of that night comes crashing down in an instant.

The night you cherish deeply, yet regret the most.

“Oh. My. God!” Lily yanks your arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket from sheer excitement. “Get up!”

“W-what?”

“Do you not remember this song!?”

“I-I, uh…” Of course you remember it. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed where you don’t think of what that damned song entails.

“Sophomore year homecoming! We slow danced to this song together! How could you forget that!?” She pouts at you, and it takes every facial muscle you have not to immediately burst out into the dumbest smile.

Without hesitation, Lily pulls your arms around her waist and intertwines her fingers behind your neck, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe, how to think, how to function like a regular human being. 

“I-I think I remember this song,” you stutter, not quite meeting her eyes.

You find yourself being transported back to that sophomore dance as the two of you sway to the beats of the music. Lily rests her head on your chest just as she did back then, and you wonder if she can hear your heartbeat as it races from the proximity. You wonder if she can hear your thoughts, what she would think about how every corner of your mind is occupied by her. You wonder what would’ve happened if you had done something, anything differently that night, if a couple words were the difference between dancing here as lovers or as reminiscing friends.

Say something. This is your only chance. After this, she’ll be gone forever.

Yet, just like that night so many years ago, you stand quietly like a fool, damning yourself to an eternity of forever staying out of her reach.

“That was fun,” Lily giggles as she steps away from you, her fingers lingering in between yours. “I should probably head back though, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Regretfully, you let go of her hands and walk her to the front door, trying to not let your mess of emotions reveal itself in your expression.

“Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow! If you’re not busy of course.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but yeah, I would like that.” Of course you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. Even if you did, you’d move Heaven and Earth just to spend another moment with her.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Lily pulls you into a hug like she always does and you fight off every urge screaming at you to keep her close.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Long after the door shuts behind her, all you can do is stand there, motionless, like life suddenly stops mattering when she’s not around. This is all your fault, really. It shouldn’t be a surprise that guys would line up for an inkling of a chance with her; in fact, you could fill up entire libraries with books describing how perfect Lily is in every single way, forever pondering how a single glance can fill you up with so much joy and sorrow that it threatens to drown you. You had more than a decade head start, you should’ve been the first one in line.

And yet, your own cowardice got in the way.

Again. And again. And again.

That song plays in your head once more, its melody haunting yet comforting. In a perfect world, the two of you would be able to dance all night to a song that never stops.