#i'll continue collecting on my own after that
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stanfordsweater · 2 days ago
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i think it's interesting to say that we don't see dean vulnerable often because, especially in the early seasons but continuing to the end of the show, i feel like we see him vulnerable all the time-- we're granted the gift of being the camera all those times he's close to tears, a stand-out example being in what is and what should never be when we see him on his knees crying over fake!john's grave, but there are many many other examples of him being very vulnerable/cracked-open to the audience that i feel people do a real disservice to by forgetting.
right off the bat we see him vulnerable in the pilot when he talks about pursuing john and sam reminds him he's going back to school:
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where he has to take a second and remind himself that he doesn't get sam back, because sam has a life, and dean collects himself but won't even look at sam beyond a derisive glance when he says "i'll take you home."
what is this moment if not planting the seeds for when dean later says, in shadow, that what he really wants is sam with him and his family back together?
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SAM: I mean, what are you gonna do when it’s all over? DEAN: It’s never gonna be over. There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be somethin’ to hunt. SAM: But there’s got to be somethin’ that you want for yourself— DEAN: Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam. SAM: Dude, what’s your problem? DEAN: Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place? SAM: ‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom. DEAN: Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man. You and me and Dad—I mean, I want us… I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. SAM: Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. DEAN: (sadly) Could be. SAM: I don’t want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.
and what is THIS moment if not dean being vulnerable? when he's reminded that the "something he wants for himself" is completely impossible because sam doesn't want it and dad left without a word by choice?
my best guess is that people don't read these moments as dean being vulnerable because he's turned away from sam-- in the pilot, he looks out the window and purses his lips and takes sam back to school. in shadow, he physically turns away from sam and grabs at the dresser and his expression shuts down when sam says no.
that doesn't mean that dean is necessarily angry or feeling possessive over sam, it's because dean can't show his vulnerability to sam (at this point in the show), because he has to be strong and he has to keep a lid on his problems or people die. deep down dean feels like wanting anything for himself is selfish and impossible. going back to what is and what should never be, that is the thesis of the entire episode: dean gets his deepest wish, and hundreds of people die. and he is broken over it.
DEAN All of them. Everyone that you saved, everyone Sammy and I saved. They're all dead. (...) It's like my old life is, is coming after me or something. Like it doesn't want me to be happy. Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but… "So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest." Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? (begins to cry while talking) What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life, Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? (pause) It's… (Dean's lips tremble. Silence. We hear the sky rumbling. Tears begin to falls on DEAN's cheek.) Yeah…
but where my sam-as-POV theory about why people keep saying dean isn't vulnerable dies is that we see these moments, so how do other people interpret them? is it just a case of not remembering? do some people think i'm totally off-base with this?
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actiaslunaris · 1 year ago
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Last Man fanart on Twitter (7 of 10)
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Pity Party.
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Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
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"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
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heirofnight · 2 months ago
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between you & i
pairing: azriel x reader
word count: 2.5k
summary: reader departs on a solo intel mission after ignoring azriel's warnings of danger. reader ends up captured, and guess who ends up coming to her rescue? you guessed it, a pissed off az. enemies to lovers. reader and az do not like each other. yum.
warnings: talk of injuries, being captured, abuse, minor self-deprecation.
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you currently found yourself in a bit of a ... precarious situation. to say the least.
your sweat-dampened hair was matted to the sides of your cheeks, your forehead.
holy gods, was it fucking hot in here.
you pressed the back of your head against the stone wall behind you, hoping that the cool brick would offer some reprieve against the sweltering heat.
oh yeah, by the way, the stone wall that you were sat against belonged to a cell. a cell that you were definitely, undoubtedly, locked inside of.
your wrists were bound in chains, your arms bunched behind you haphazardly. this really, really fucking sucked. rhysand would be so pissed.
you huffed out a breath, eyes cast towards the ceiling that was covered in vines, weeds, and moss. you zoned out, reflecting on the happenings that consequently landed you here.
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"are you absolutely sure that you'd rather travel alone, y/n?," rhysand had questioned you the evening prior, expression littered with apprehension and hesitation.
you'd rolled your eyes at his protective concern, a smirk playing on your lips.
"rhys, it's a singular little mission to the autumn court," you'd countered, "i'll be back in what - two, three days?," you'd continued, flicking strands of hair over your shoulders. you were hardly concerned - after all, you'd collected intel for rhysand countless times, and you'd always walked away unscathed.
you were a scholar, and this was a huge part of your job within the night court - the chance of running into trouble was slim-to-none. your task involved meeting eris within the outskirts of his territory, collecting confidential information on the inner-political developments occurring within the crisp autumn court for rhys. easy, peasy.
something you could have done blindfolded, hands tied.
which, now, considering your current circumstances, that part had literally come to fruition.
azriel had stood in utter stoicism next to the head of rhys' polished mahogany desk, brows cinched together, eyes hard.
"no, it's unwise," he'd uttered, voice cold and deep - the first words he'd spoken since you'd arrived for your mission debrief.
you and azriel were - well, complicated. while you didn't absolutely loathe each other, there was this very prominent undertone of thick, suffocating tension that had formed a barrier between the both of you. you'd both opted to tread lightly each other - civil when necessary, silent and aloof otherwise.
he'd never really seemed to give much of a shit about you, so this outburst was unlike him.
his words caused you to sit up infinitesimally straighter, eyes locked on his strong frame from across the room.
"and why's that?," you'd questioned, voice sounding bored, dismissive of his opinion.
"too much unrest across his lands as of late," he offered, shifting within his boots just slightly, "we aren't entirely sure who, or what, is patrolling that area. it's dangerous, i should accompany you," he'd finished, sounding as though he'd already made his mind up.
you'd scoffed at the suggestion, standing with the intention of taking your leave before azriel was able to convince rhys any differently.
"no, thank you, shadowsinger," you'd waved a hand in dismissal, waltzing towards the large, wooden double doors of the office.
"i don't need to be coddled, i think i can manage on my own just fine," you'd added, back turned to the two males.
it was azriel's turn to scoff in exasperation, and although you couldn't see him, you could hear his wings rustle in irritation. the thought made you smirk to yourself, reveling in the idea of getting a rise out of the normally impassive spy.
"now, y/n,-," rhys began, his voice laced with consideration.
"i'll see the both of you in a few days," you'd cut him off, letting the door shut behind you with a resounding thud, the sound echoing down the stone halls.
and that was that. you'd decided to depart first thing this morning, hoping to avoid either one of the busybody males just in case rhys had commanded azriel to travel with you, after all.
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you rolled your eyes, shuffling slightly against the cell floor as you thought of the verbal lashing you'd receive once you got back to velaris.
azriel would probably be present while rhysand berated you for this catastrophic mistake, and if you thought hard enough, you could just picture the smug smirk that would more than likely be adorning his polished features. az would be enjoying the fact that he was correct, sunbathing himself in your downfall, your failure.
the thought filled you with so much rage, so much embarrassment. it caused your skin to flush and grow even hotter, which was a feat in itself since you didn't think it was possible for the stifling heat to get worse.
you'd been captured by a lone group of autumn court rebels, who'd just happened to be traveling along the exact same path you'd taken to meet eris. you weren't sure what their plans were for you - a night court female. they knew who you were, they knew you were employed with rhys. if you had to guess, they were holding you hostage to use as some sort of bargaining chip.
regardless, it'd been twelve hours since you'd been tossed into this cell. you had not the slightest clue where you even were in relation to the court itself. you'd been blindfolded and jostled about, and your sense of direction had been destroyed in the process.
you were so, so thirsty. your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, throat dry enough that it felt like you'd ingested hot coals each time you struggled to swallow.
you were nervous, yes. on edge. your feathers were ruffled. but you knew eris would report your absence to rhysand. it was only a matter of time before someone found you. and when they did, you'd be reprimanded endlessly. you'd probably never hear the end of it - never be allowed to depart on solo missions again. you'd probably be stuck with azriel, that self-righteous, arrogant -
your thoughts came to a screeching halt once you noticed that the cell had become dark. it was mid-afternoon, and barred holes in the wall had been allowing the afternoon light to filter into the small space. which honestly, with this heat, felt like an additional form of torture.
but now, a chill filled the darkened air. no light filtered through - not even a pin-prick of luminance could be accounted for. you couldn't see inches ahead of you. your spine straightened, your head perked up. and before you could make heads or tails of the odd infiltrating darkness, it had dissipated entirely.
you blinked several times, weary, exhausted eyes struggling to acclimate to the warm light.
but once you'd righted yourself, you saw it. saw him.
azriel stood before you, half of his body swathed in swirling shadows. his arms were folded across his chest, eyes narrowed in distaste as he took in the sight of you - battered, bruised, filthy, restrained. his wings rustled several times before pulling tightly into his back, clearly agitated.
his jaw ticked in anger, and he dropped his head to avert his gaze to the cell floor at his feet. his muscles flexed with tension, and he was pissed.
and while you assumed the anger was directed at you, at your stupidity, azriel was biting back the urge to level the entire autumn court for what those males had done to you.
you swallowed hard, throat burning from the action. you opted to not speak, fully understanding how monumental this fuck-up was. you hadn't even departed velaris with a weapon strapped to your body, completely void of protection. so, so stupid.
"how could you be so foolish," azriel sneered, his arms dropping to his sides, clenched fists flexing. his voice was so low, so cold, you'd finally understood how he was able to intimidate his victims to the point of broken resolve.
you looked down, ashamed, embarrassed.
"i didn't-," you started, voice hoarse.
azriel huffed angrily at the sound of it.
"no, you didn't," he cut you off, stepping towards you with a leveled thump of his boots. "you didn't," he continued, tone laced with contempt.
"you didn't think. you didn't consider how dangerous-," he paused, having to take a deep, steady breath to compose himself.
you continued staring at the floor, anywhere but him. you definitely didn't dare look at his face, his eyes as they bore into you.
"look at me," he commanded, voice growing harsh.
you averted your gaze from the floor, choosing to stare at the bright, barred window that was cut into the upper left wall instead.
"y/n," he growled, stooping down to your level to grab your chin between his thumb and pointer fingers. his grip wasn't harsh - probably due to him being careful of exacerbating any potential injuries - but it was demanding. "look at me," he repeated.
you caved, meeting his hard hazel eyes with hesitation. you tried your damndest to look as unfazed and unwavering as possible - as though being captured and beaten hadn't taken a toll on you. but when you met his familiar face, took in his features and realized you were being saved, you faltered. relief flooded your veins, overflowing until it reached your softening eyes.
unshed tears began to well up, and you used every ounce of willpower that you had left to not allow them to fall.
azriel's expression became tender as he took you in, as he studied your expression. he saw your bruises and scrapes up close now, and he dropped his head once more, shoulders drooping slightly.
"you could have gotten yourself killed," he croaked, anger still lacing his words.
"so, what," you deadpanned, voice rasping, "then you would have been right, about me - about this mission. about how foolishly incapable i am," you said solemnly, jerking your chin from his unfaltering grip.
he snapped his head upward, meeting your eyes immediately. his brows cinched, and you momentarily observed the splattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose - you'd never noticed them before, had never been this close to him.
he blinked once, twice - his long, thick lashes whispering across his skin as he did so.
"that's what you think this is about?," he questioned, voice breathless in disbelief.
you scoffed weakly, pushing yourself up further against the damp wall behind you.
"please, azriel. you've never been subtle about how incompetent you find me," your voice coated in disdain.
he let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he absorbed your words.
"no, y/n," he grunted, his hands moving forward to begin working at the cuffs around your wrists. you'd both needed to get the hell out of here, urgently. it had been hours since you'd last seen your captors, and you were both painfully aware of the likelihood that they'd return.
could azriel singlehandedly fight off an entire hoard of rebels? absolutely. did he want to dismember and mutilate the males that did this to you? abso-fucking-lutely. but more than that, he wanted to get you home, safe, and with madra.
you hissed as he began to work his deft hands around the harsh chains. they'd been pulled so tightly to your skin, that you'd already come to terms with the possibility of losing circulation to the limbs.
his eyes flickered up to your face at the sound of your discomfort, and he winced at the realization of causing you further pain.
"i've never thought that you were incompetent," he continued as he worked, using his words to distract you from the pain he was inflicting, "hotheaded? yes, confident to a fault? sometimes," he continued, and you scoffed at his jabs.
"azriel, just shut the fu-," you blurted, his words bristling your already raw skin.
"but," he cut you off, continuing on with his tangent, "you are also strong, brave - obviously. loyal to your court, to rhys," he went on, pausing for a moment, "and i've always admired you," he finished, voice lowering.
you went silent, considering his words. you became painfully aware of his close proximity, of his hands against your swollen wrists as he fought to free you.
his eyes flitted to your softening expression, gauging your reaction to his words.
and internally, you were realizing for the first time, that maybe you and azriel were more alike than you'd initially thought.
he finally freed your hands, and you groaned at the relief, at the blood rushing down to the stiff limbs.
he helped you gently, bringing your arms back to the front of your exhausted frame. you closed your eyes for a moment, taking deep, even breaths at the feeling of being free, being saved. by azriel.
"how did you know where to find me?," you croaked, peeking one eye open to look up at the male before you. he was crouched closer to you now, poised to catch you if you careened over.
"eris relayed the information to rhys - the general whereabouts of your planned meeting location," he began, eyes flicking over your entire body to scan for any other injuries.
"and rhysand sent you to track me down?," you questioned, assuming that it was a command from his high lord - a decision he didn't make.
"i didn't give him the chance to," he offered, swallowing thickly, "i was at autumn's border before eris finished his report," he cleared his throat, cheeks tinting the slightest shade of pink.
there was a slight pause.
"he didn't have a choice," he spoke, voice deep and gravelly. he met your eyes with that last statement, as if to make a point.
you sat up slightly, reeling with the words azriel had spoken. they blanketed the both of you, sitting heavy against your chest.
azriel had chosen to track you down, to save you? not only that, but it seemed like it was almost second nature for him. to seek you out, to rescue you.
you opened and closed your mouth several times, looking for the right words. nothing you'd come up with was good enough.
"let's get you home," he said softly, reaching under your limp frame to hoist you into his strong arms. you whined quietly, your body rebuking the movement.
"i know," he soothed, bracing you against his chest.
and then you were both wrapped in endless shadows and night.
cradled against your tall, strong salvation.
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things had irrevocably changed between you and azriel after that. you'd both known it.
and sure enough, from that day onward, he was your chosen partner on every mission you'd decide to embark on. and azriel had insisted the same.
choosing each other, time and time again.
and sometimes, when you'd both inevitably need to stop for the evening - finding reprieve in a shoddy inn after a grueling travel day, azriel would request a room with just one bed.
and what happened under the covers on those evenings - when your body would melt into his, his forehead pressed against yours, explorative hands learning each other -
well, that was just between the both of you.
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a/n: another one shot that just demanded to be written immediately. brought on by scrolling on tiktok lmao. hope u loved it! let me know your thoughts <3
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ineffable-romantics · 1 year ago
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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:
This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:
First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)
These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.
I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.
This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.
Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.
This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.
If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.
With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.
Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can
Food
Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).
This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.
Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.
(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)
Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.
The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.
And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.
It's What Humans Do
In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).
He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).
What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.
But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.
Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?
Angels, Demons, & Asexuality
Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.
Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)
And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).
The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.
I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.
Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.
Except...
Brielzebub
We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.
For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.
And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).
Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.
Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.
Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction
But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?
And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.
At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).
So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?
I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.
After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)
Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.
However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".
Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.
I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.
But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.
(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)
More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.
Aziraphale's Hedonism
Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.
It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.
Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.
Dancing
I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.
I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.
We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.
(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)
As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.
Love Languages
I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.
We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.
You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.
The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).
And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.
So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.
So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.
"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"
Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.
First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")
(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)
More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.
Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.
The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).
Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.
Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.
The Birds & The Bees
Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.
Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.
Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.
The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma
The Kiss. Where to even begin?
This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.
Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.
It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.
Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.
Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.
So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.
I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.
What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.
All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.
(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)
Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).
Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.
In Conclusion
I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.
So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.
You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.
But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.
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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post
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lostalioth · 1 year ago
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𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭
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→ premise: it was a bad idea, wayne came home and could hear you and eddie and yet the two of you didn’t wanna stop, it felt far too good to want it to end.
→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
→ warnings: smut | 18+, almost getting caught, mutual masturbation, gagging/covering mouth, praise, small amount of oral [m receiving], nicknames [sweet girl, baby]
→ a/n: 02 kinktober
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Eddie's hand presses against your mouth covering it suddenly. You look at him with wide and confused eyes as your own fingers still their movement between your legs. He holds a finger up to his own mouth with his other hand as a way of telling you to shush. “Heyy, Eds you home??” You hear the front door to the trailer swing open and Wayne's voice echo from down the hall. Your body froze, he wasn't supposed to come home yet.
You and Eddie were frozen still, laid out on his bed your thighs spread, his legs also spread and laid over your calves facing you, both on full display for one another. Your fingers were still buried deep inside you, you twitch and clench around them aching for your movement earlier to continue. You were getting close but the interruption made your body tense now. Eddie's hand moves from in front of his mouth and wraps around his cock again, pulling your attention right back to it. His tip red and angry, veins protruding and begging for your mouth.
“Uhh yeah im home, i was just about to take a nap though” Eddie's voice answering his uncle breaks you from your trance. His voice being far too calm and collected for what his previous actions were, it slightly impresses you. You make a small noise in surprise and confusion, it being very muffled by Eddie's hand but he gets the message and mouths a quick “I'm sorry sweet girl” at you while Wayne responds.
“Oh nice think i'll rest too, work was rough” Wayne yells once again before heading off down the opposite hall, you were grateful for the odd layout of the trailer. Eddie waits until he hears his uncle's door shut before he begins stroking his throbbing cock again, his release right on the edge once again. “Oh fuck, good girl staying quiet so we dont get caught” Eddie groans softly, eyes glued to your face a slightly embrassed but still lustful look in your eyes. Your eyes lit up at the praise and Eddie doesn't miss a beat. “Oh you like that? Huh baby? Be my good girl and keep playing with that pussy for me okay?” Your fingers slowly pump inside yourself once again after the embarrassment washes away. “Eddie..” you moan against his hand a bit too loud making him shove his ring clad fingers in your mouth gagging you lightly. The metal cold against your lips and the action only furthering your arousal that's staining his sheets below you.
“Keep being quiet for me and you can cum got it baby?” Eddie's voice is laced in desperation. You can tell it's both a plea for you to be mute but also for you to cum. He needed to see you cum, he was so pent up and on the edge already but wanted to cum to the sight of your release dripping down your own fingers. You nod your head frantically and pump your fingers inside your aching pussy faster, chasing your much needed climax. Eddie flashes that damned charming smile of his at you and matches your pace with his own strokes. “Such a good girl for me, i was gonna fuck ya’ but dont think we can keep quiet enough during that i know i couldnt” he chuckles softly and slowly thrusts up into his hand, his eyes glazing over as he watches your skillful fingers pleasure yourself.
You whine around his fingers at the idea and buck your hips up in need as you start thinking about how good his cock would fill you up, the patch of curly black hair that rests at the base of of it brushing against your cilt…god you needed him to ruin you and cursed your luck that he couldn't this go around.
Your own thoughts guide you closer and closer to the edge. Eddie can see the way you frantically pump your fingers faster and bring your free hand down to your clit telling him you're close. “Aww you gonna cum sweet girl, do it” he eggs you on his voice needy and teasing. “Cum on those pretty fingers imagining it's my cock while you gag on my fingers baby” he fists his cock harder, his brain going fuzzy as he waits quite impatiently for you to finish and push him over the edge.
“Mhm~ Eddie!~” you let out a muffled wanton moan around his now spit covered fingers, your back arching off the bed. Your head falls back as your release washes over you. Your slick and cum coating your fingers and thighs as you squeeze them together at the overwhelming sensation.
“There you go baby, good girl fuckk..” he lets out a sound that's a mix between a groan and a whine as his thrusts into his large hand become sloopy and speed up. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, wet from your spit and uses that hand instead to stroke his cock.
“Sweet girl im gonna cum fuck, you want me to make a mess of my self or you wanna help me out and take it down your throat like a good girl?” Eddie's voice comes out husky and strangled as he does his best to hold back while waiting on an answer. However, you're quick to move up to your knees, your cum soaked fingers leaving your cunt making you whine. leaning your head down and swating his hand away to slide him in your mouth, your tongue tracing a vein on the underside of his shaft and sucking.
Eddie's head falls back quickly before it snaps back up to take in the view of you taking all of him in your mouth.
“What ever did I do to get such a sweet and good girl like you’s mouth on my dick shit~” he let out a string of mumbled curses as he bucked his hips up into your mouth.
He rests his hand on the top of your head as the knot in the pit of his stomach tightens and quickly unravels. He cums with a loud groan of your name leaving his lips, cum coating your throat and sliding down as you swallow every last drop. You take your mouth off him making a small pop sound when it slips out and Eddie lays there breathless. “Maybe I should’ve also gagged myself to be quiet huh?” He lets out a short and nervous chuckle between pants.
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→ a/n: i keep ending up writing and posting these much later than i wanna like its techically the 4th for me as i post this but i meant to post it on the 3rd cause of how im doing kinktober and UGH
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seiwas · 1 year ago
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₊˚⊹。—will i ever bring you peace? | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.4k
summary: gojo can’t give you a quiet life. no matter what. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, hurt/comfort, jealous!gojo, more of gojo’s internal thoughts, mentions of an oc, gojo deserves all the luvin!!
a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (the prev part), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (this one), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! reading the other parts, while not necessary, will add more to the experience (some references are made)! song i listened to while writing this was peace by taylor swift! 
collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5a. this feeling inside of me— <- you are here -> +04. take my time (i'll spend it all on you)
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“Would you ever want a quiet life?” 
The pond below you ripples as the koi fish swims away. 
You turn to face Gojo, hands hanging over the bridge railing, remnants of soft youth in his cheeks at 24. 
“I’d say it’s pretty quiet right now.” he answers, signature teasing lilt to his tone. He gestures around him, focusing your attention to how tranquil it is right now—sun beaming and the sound of nature in birds chirping and water trickling.
You roll your eyes; it’s always the distractions and non-answers with him. 
The silence between you is the product of years spent getting closer to reach this point; a silence of knowing that gives Gojo the space and time to reveal things on his own. 
“You already know my answer to that.” he says after a while, looking back down to the pond beneath you. 
And you do—with his small smile, almost resigned. There’s no point thinking about it. Just like when you’d asked him about love. It’s just not meant for him. 
“Would you?” he throws the question back at you, turning to you when he asks it. 
It’s a silly thing, to let hope like this bloom; you both know it’s well past that point now, too deep into chasing his vision for the future of jujutsu society—but it’s free to dream, right?
“I would, I think. Some peace from all this.” 
.
.
.
Gojo’s starting to hate that sinking feeling in his stomach lately—knots twisting before they burst into fits of pop! pop! popping!
It’s uncomfortable and annoying, seemingly getting worse the more he sits in these political meetings with you and ‘Kazuo’—or whoever this politican is, pulling your seat for you and making you laugh; the gentleman etiquette. He even lets you call him by his first name. 
There’s a slight tic to Gojo’s brow as he sits across you, leaning on the back of his chair with his arms crossed and leg propped up on the other. Obviously, you’re just being nice, nodding and smiling as you listen to Kazuo run through the document for this meeting beside you. 
But it still makes Gojo ache. 
He hasn’t been to many of these meetings, but he’s gathered enough to know what kind of guy this Kazuo is: well-dressed, good smile, good teeth–all things he has himself–but also, a gentleman, good-natured and hardworking, kind and gentle, and most of all at peace. Rumor has it that he’s looking to settle down soon, away from the politics to a nearby town just on the outskirts of the city—not too far but also not too close.
Seeing you smiling with him now just brings it back, that conversation you had years ago at 24 gnawing at him. 
“Would you ever want a quiet life?” you had asked, and when he threw it back to you—
“I would, I think. Some peace from all this.” 
It aches.
.
Gojo waits for you at the end of the meeting, watching as you and Kazuo continue to exchange pleasantries. He knows there isn’t anything to it, but there’s that knot in his stomach again, pop! pop! popping! and it worsens when he hears the secretaries gush about how you and Kazuo look so compatible, perfect—fit to get married. 
How disrespectful to your relationship, Gojo thinks. 
He huffs, quiet enough not to cause a scene but loud enough for you to hear him—to know that he isn’t in the mood for any of this. And in the perfect way you’ve synced yourself to him all these years, you smoothly transition into giving Kazuo your well wishes, accepting his handshake as your eyes meet with Gojo’s for him to do the same. 
When you both step out of the room, you make sure to hold his hand tightly, surely, in all the loving ways, but he grips back only lightly, leaving a small space–that infinity–between your palms on the way back home today. 
.
When Gojo thinks about it, it isn’t even because he’s lacking. He’s worked hard and continues to do so everyday, treating you well, loving you in the ways you deserve. 
But will it truly ever be enough? 
How can it be when you deserve more, so much more than this life you’ve been chained to since you were young?
Jujutsu society has been so rough to the both of you, that he thinks you, out of all people, deserve at the very least, some peace. Now that his vision is turning into a reality, maybe you can take a step back and afford a little more leniency. 
A good life, with a good partner, who will love you in peace. 
Someone like Kazuo.
Not him.
The thought is unusual; Gojo’s never really been one to feel insecure, but he thinks that, when you love someone this much, you’ll always want the best for them, even when you realize that the best might not be synonymous to being yours. 
Gojo can’t give you a quiet life. 
No matter what. 
Who he is is so intrinsically linked to this society and the direction it's taking that it’ll follow him wherever he goes.
He sinks deeper into his pillow. 
“You okay?” you come out of the bathroom, dressed in the matching pajama set you both got a few weeks ago—his, buried somewhere in the mishmash of your laundry clothes.
The thought sears itself into his mind, how your lives now are so intertwined.
He doesn’t answer. 
How can he ever let this go?
It aches. Again. 
The bed dips as you get into it, lifting up the comforter to snuggle into him. His back is facing you, unmoving, but your heart beats against the warmth pressed to your chest. 
You hope he feels it, how it’s for him. 
“Wanna let me in your head a little?” you wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your nose at the nape of his neck. You use the same body wash but Gojo has always retained a scent that is distinctly his own—a bit sweet like the strawberries he loves eating and something close to baby powder, as unassuming as it may be. 
His breath hitches before he starts fiddling with your fingers resting on his waist. He’s biting his lips, you know. 
“Do you still want a quiet life?” he mumbles, almost a whisper. You wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t so pressed up against him. 
You’re confused, a little shocked, but mostly confused because where did this come from?
Gojo holds his breath, waiting for your answer. He can’t turn to look at you when you do, afraid that what he’ll find—what you’ll want, won’t be something he can give you. 
“Doesn’t sound too bad, I guess.” you answer, lips tickling his skin. He can’t release his breath; it’s the answer he’s been dreading. 
There’s silence, a stretch that feels too long but only spans a few seconds. His mind plays an endless loop; the single thought that that isn’t the life he can give you.
Should he break up with you?
How is he supposed to tell—
“I like this life now better though, with you.” you squeeze him tighter, kissing the side of his neck that you can reach. 
He stiffens in your hold, but you can feel the thrums of his heartbeat. It comes slowly, but he releases the breath he was holding before relaxing a bit, something you hope is from relief.  
“You sure?” he asks, trying to sound teasing, but you hear through it. Of course you do.
“You’ll be stuck with me forever, you know.” 
You can swear he sniffled. 
“Doesn't sound too bad to me.” 
He shifts, turning to face you, and when he sees you—
—it’s like falling in love with you again, he thinks. 
The ache is still there, but it’s different, replaced by something burning, almost bursting; the feelings he can’t contain—he wants to say it: I love you; thank you for loving me, but the words are lodged in his throat and his eyes are watering, collecting like pools of rain along his lash line before spilling. 
Gojo doesn’t cry often, but when he does, you try to kiss away every hurt, every pain, that comes with it. So there, by his eyes, are your lips, soft and tender, kissing away his tears as you cradle him to your chest, letting him hug you for however long he needs to be held like this. 
It’s relief, he wants to tell you, that you don’t have to worry; these are good tears—grateful that he gets to have you in this life because you like it better. 
But there’s no pressure, there never is with you—you’ve always been like that. You don’t question him right now, trusting that he’ll tell you all about it tomorrow like he always does. 
For now, all you want to do is hold him, quiet down all the noise in his head and keep him right by your heart, loving him close.
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a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the first part is lighter and just overall good vibes if you're up for that!
thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!!
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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misfitgirlwrites · 5 months ago
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Lucifer Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?
I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'M NOT--
It's time for my fictional love and life and all I hold dear in my daydreams. Bitches, bros, nonbinary hoes, and genderfluid fucks, I present to you the Big Dick in Charge
I may reference works that I've read and when I do I'll drop their @ and link to their story it is law that you read it if you read mine, I don't make the rules
CW: none, slightly angsty but nothing too intense!
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Alright, doves, this is post-season one. Lucifer now resides in the hotel with everyone and is slowly adjusting to being graced with Alejandro's Alastor's presence every day.
Let's be honest, our baby pays attention but puts in minimal effort. Saying that the days went by in a blur would be an understatement. Even conversations would be forgotten after a few short moments. On to the next task. Full focus on this thing. Once that's done? Well onto the next task! No tasks? Free time to spend with Charlie!
Things would start slow, and to really interact, you'd most likely start to approach him first. Maybe you've spent long enough watching the blond anxiously bounce around the hotel and graciously give himself a bit too much for even the Big Boss of Hell.
A timid approach from you, offering to help with whatever he's currently doing. Maybe you make snacks for everyone in the hotel and hand him his personally :)
And so it begins! A greeting here, a greeting there, slightly awkward conversations that slowly start to feel less forced with the little information you learn about each other along the way.
It's...nice! Refreshing! Lucifer would be more excited than anything and talking to you would become a part of his regular routine without much thought on the matter. You'd occasionally be on his mind just a little more, and he'd start to seek you out himself too.
I know you're already seeking him out. Bitch I'M seeking him out.
Helping with chores around the hotel quickly turns into simply enjoying the other's company.
One day you gift him his very own ceramic duck! You could have paid for it from somewhere or made it yourself.
Either way, he'd fucking LOVE it! Honestly, if you decide to try your hand at making it, he'd love it even more with all the rough edges and little bumps (it was made out of love for my babies who never touched clay in their lives)
In response, please expect many gifts in return. I like to think it's been a while since he's gotten a genuine gift like this
(Bonus headcanon: Charlie will see this and will come to you the next day with a list of things she wants to gift him and you two are unofficially officially the Buy Lucifer Anything Duck-Themed duo)
Lucifer loves how you react when he gifts you your very own rubber duck. Your smile and happiness always seemed contagious to him. It only led to him making/getting you more things.
You will have a rubber duck collection by the end of this, but what can you really say? Each one of them is based on something you mentioned before. A movie character, a book character, a cartoon character, even friends or family members if they were mentioned. The gesture is way too sweet for you to turn down, even if it is the 30th duck you've received.
Now prepare for what I like to call the "get along t-shirt" phase but both parties are willing LMAO.
Lucifer will be by your side as long as you'll accept the company and if you're reading this and we brain the same, that will be all the time.
I love the GenZ!Reader memes and fics. Someone show this man bacon pancakes and if it was already done, SHOW ME.
Between his relationship with Charlie and with you, Lucifer actually feels the need and wants to be a little more present bit by bit. He notices that he is spending less time in his head, but he continues on in fear of fucking it up if he thinks too hard about it.
So instead he'll 100% focus on the little familiarity of happiness, as small as those moments may be sometimes. This is EXACTLY why the thought of him potentially feeling romantic interest again goes right over his head.
Who notices first, you ask? Charlie, of course. You slowly but surely became one of his main topics in conversation, it wasn't hard for her to pick up on it and ask.
Baby boy would straight up deny it at first. Him?? Liking someone else??? LMAO, am I right? Of course, after he does this, he'll have the time to actually pay attention to his actions.
So then he'll notice how excited he is every morning knowing that you'll be the first face he sees. He'll notice how he managed to fit you into any task he had to do. When he'd get lunch for himself and Charlie he'd have the automatic thought of making something for you as well. Even when the day was over, he'd be thinking about spending the next day with you. To be frank, you were constantly on his mind. 
Once he notices it's a big mental "fuck". Nothing about you is wrong of course, it's him, or so he thinks.
Let's start with the elephant in the room, or shall I say the ring on his finger lmao
In Lucifer's mind, he's still married technically. Even thinking about it in a technical term was a new development and it made him feel absolutely horrible. Lilith left, sure, but who knows what happened? Regardless of how he felt, he didn't want to hurt her.
But at the same time what about him? Lucifer hasn't been happy in a long time and he's finally building that again, not just with Charlie, but with you as well. He didn't want to just cut you out, he didn't want to hurt you either.
Plus, did you even like him? How would he even approach you? If he wanted to, even after thinking about everything.
Who was he kidding, of course, he still wanted you!
@liveontelevision *drops to my knees and bows* they worded it extremely well here and if you're reading this but you haven't read this already or you clicked the link then clicked back here, go back and read it. I don't care how long it is. Do the thing then come back.
Welcome back. It was good, wasn't it? I know.
The only awkward period for you two is the week-long contemplation of everything (half him attempting not to do what he always does when stressed but by the time he realizes he already made like 30 ducks--)
He would clearly go out of his way to either try and talk to you or avoid you. Or a cute mixture of both where he makes a scene approaching you, realizes he's not ready yet, then makes a scene so he can disappear *finger guns*
A little crisis here, a few little rubber ducks there, and a looooonnnggg conversation with Charlie and Maggie Vaggie.
Those are the ingredients to a semi-stable Lucifer with enough bravado to talk to you normally again.
He'd apologize for the times he basically pulled a Houdini in your face and he'd explain himself fully, all while also confessing his love for you.
It's choppy, it's fast-paced in some areas, and the poor blond was ready to disappear at any given moment, but that's what made it so real for you.
The weight that's lifted off of him couldn't be described, and neither could the joy that welled in him the moment he saw your beautiful smile and heard nothing but your acceptance and love.
What an emotional roller-coaster, am I right?
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Lucifer Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @heart-of-the-morningstar
Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!
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lemoncrushh · 4 months ago
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I Miss You
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Summary: You've grown frustrated and lonely because Harry is always busy.
Warnings: angst, light masturbation, oral - 18+ ONLY!
Word Count: 1949
A/N: Another old blurb from my 2016 collection. Similar to Too Long. Famous Harry x reader.
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He was late. Again. Harry had missed dinner. Again.
It was the third time this week, and though he'd called to tell you so, you were tired of sitting alone at the dining room table, or resolving to bringing your plate to the sofa with the TV just so you'd have some company. A couple weeks ago when he'd had to work late, you were already asleep when he'd come home, climbing into bed behind you and pulling you flush against his body while he whispered his apologies in your ear. That time you'd forgiven him, as you'd rolled over onto your back, getting a glimpse of his face in the moonlight through the curtains. He'd made love to you then, every resentment you'd felt stripping away.
That was the last time you'd had sex. And now the resentments were flooding back.
He was a celebrity, you got that. And you weren't angry at him for that really. His work demanded a lot from him, and you were proud of him. But you had to admit you wanted your own time with him too. Time that was yours and yours alone, where you didn't have to share him.
You'd just finished cleaning up in the kitchen, had turned off the lights and were headed upstairs when you heard the front door unlock. You stopped on the middle step, clutching the banister so hard that your knuckles were white.
"Hey," he greeted, his voice low, shutting the door behind him. "Good, you're still up."
"I've already eaten, sorry," you muttered. "Dinner's in the kitchen."
"That's okay, love," he replied, crossing the room to stand at the bottom of the stairs. "I didn't expect you to wait for me."
"Didn't figure," you said with a frown.
When you turned around and continued to ascend the stairs, Harry called your name. You reached the landing before you turned to glare down at him. He could certainly sense that you were perturbed.
"Something wrong?" he inquired.
"Nope," you shook your head. "Just tired. Think I'll get ready for bed."
"Oh," Harry mouthed. "Alright then. I'd say I'd be joining you soon, but I still have some things to work on and phone calls to make after I eat."
You ran your fingers through your hair, your frustration rising with every breath you took. Dropping your hands by your side, you were about to say something, but held your tongue. Turning on your heels, you headed for the bedroom.
"Y/N," you heard Harry call after you.
You ignored him, but taking two steps at a time, Harry caught up to you as soon as you entered the room. You walked over to the bureau, placing your hands on it with a sigh.
"You need to talk about something, baby?" Harry asked from the doorway.
You didn't turn around, and although he used a term of endearment, you could tell he was less than sympathetic. He knew you'd been aggravated about your time together being stolen.
"Not really," you said.
Finally turning to face him, you saw that his brows were furrowed, his eyes squinted to slits. You knew what he was doing. He was trying to pry it out of you, to confess how angry you were. But you weren't about to convey your feelings. It would only cause problems, telling him you were unhappy. You'd end up feeling guilty and have to apologize. So, you bit your lip and walked around the bed toward the bathroom.
"You're angry," Harry pointed out, stepping further into the room.
"I'm fine," you argued.
"Clearly you're not. Talk to me."
Continuing your silent treatment you pulled your hair back into a ponytail, prepared to wash off your makeup.
"Please," you heard Harry add.
Slamming your hands against the vanity, you let out a breath, followed by a frustrated growl.
"Okay, fine, I'm pissed off!"
"About tonight," he said.
"About every night!" you yelled. "Every fucking night you have something to do, or some place to be."
"Babe, I told you I'd be busy for the next month-"
"I know you did!" you glared at him. "But I didn't know it would make me feel this way."
Harry blew a breath through his nose, leaning against the door frame.
"I'm lonely, Harry," you whined. "So fucking lonely. And I hate it. I hate feeling like this."
Harry pursed his lips. "Come downstairs with me. We'll watch a bit of TV while I eat this delicious meal you made."
"I'm not in the mood," you scoffed.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked. "I've got a lot going on right now."
"I know," you held up your hands. "And it's not really your fault. It's me. It's always me."
Your last sentence was said in a near whisper as you turned on the faucet and splashed water on your face. Your resistance to talk was understood, and Harry shook his head before leaving the room.
You scrubbed your face hard, making sure every trace of of makeup was removed. When you splashed water on it again, you noticed the tears. You leaned over the sink crying, your shoulders shaking. You silently wished you'd hear Harry's footsteps, returning to the bedroom. But when you heard noise of the television downstairs, you knew he wasn't coming.
Clearing your throat, you crossed the bedroom again to the dresser. Pulling open a drawer, you grabbed your swimsuit and put it on.
When you came down the stairs, Harry was stretched out on the sofa, his legs propped up on the ottoman, a plate of food in his lap. He pulled his gaze from the television long enough to see you walk behind him, heading for the glass doors that led to the patio.
"I thought you were going to bed," he said, muting the TV.
"Changed my mind," you muttered. "Going for a swim."
You gave him no chance to retort before you flipped on the switch and shut the door behind you. The lights outside illuminated the deck, giving it a warm glow. The pool lights shown under the water, making it look inviting and serene.
Dipping your toe in, you tested the temperature. It was warm, but not too warm. You stepped into the pool, sinking down until the water covered your shoulders. Then dunking your head under, you swam to the other side, not lifting your head until you'd reached it.
Back and forth you swam, the tension in your body releasing with every stroke. Taking a rest, you bobbed in the water, turning your head to see Harry standing on the other side of the glass doors. He was watching you, his forearm pressed against the glass above his head. If you weren't so mad at him, you would have found it erotic. Licking your lips, you were prepared to smile at him, but instead he backed away from the glass, turning back toward the living room.
Your frustration returning, you swam a few more laps until you were nearly out of breath, stopping at one of the jets near the steps at the side of the pool. You ran your hand in front of it, allowing the pressure to push it away. Then moving your body next to it, you let the jet blow against your chest before rising up so that it hit your pubic bone. With one gentle movement, it hit you between the legs and you bit your lip, your eyelids fluttering closed.
Gripping the edge of the pool, you lifted your knees, allowing them to balance you against the side of the pool. Bouncing gently, the jet stream hit you in just the rhythm you wanted. Leaning your head back, the water wetting the back of your hair, you began to move faster, small gasps of air rising up from your throat.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, the sensation building in your core.
Wanting to feel the friction raw, you pushed your bikini bottom to the side, letting the water hit your clit.
"Oh...Harry..." you moaned. "I miss you so much."
"I miss you too, baby," you heard a voice say.
Alarmed and embarrassed, you adjusted yourself, lowering your legs. Harry stood in the door frame, his swim trunks on, his chest bare.
"Wh-what?" you stammered. "You were watching me?"
"Yeah," Harry licked his bottom lip before closing the door behind him and stepping to the side of the pool. "Don't stop. That was really sexy."
You shook your head, grateful that the semi-darkness hid the color on your cheeks. You pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet.
"Shit, I forgot a towel," you muttered, trying your best to squeeze your hair dry.
"C'mere," Harry insisted in a low tone.
You blinked, looking up at him. When you didn't budge, he raised his eyebrows and gestured for you to come to him. Standing a few inches from him, he grabbed your hands pulling you closer.
"Baby, I'm sorry," he declared, looking into your eyes.
You lowered your head. "It's okay."
"No, it's not. You're not okay. I've been so busy, I've forgotten how important it is that we spend time alone."
"I don't want you mad at me, Harry," you whispered. "I just miss-"
Harry stopped you, pressing a finger to your lips. "Shh. I know."
Sliding his hands under your ears and drying a drop of water from your cheek with his thumb, he kissed you tenderly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your wet body getting his damp, though he didn't seem to mind in the least. Melting into the kiss, you pressed into him, dipping your tongue inside his mouth to meet his. His fingers finding the ties of your bikini bottoms, he tugged gently. You giggled against his lips before pulling back to look at him.
"What are you doing?" you asked.
"Thought I'd finish what you started," he remarked with a smirk.
"Here?"
"Why not?"
Biting your lip, you shrugged. Harry took your hand, guiding you back to the pool. You stopped at the top of the steps, watching him dive in. When he came back up, he swam to you, circling his arms around your legs.
"Sit down, my love," he insisted.
With a hesitant grin, you sat at the edge of the pool. Harry gingerly opened your legs, completing his task of untying your bathing suit. It fell loose beneath you on the concrete, exposing you completely. Looking up at you once more, Harry lowered his body into the pool, threading his arms around your thighs and pulling you against his mouth.
You cried out as soon as his tongue met your clit, still aroused from your solo activity. You tried to catch your breath, grabbing hold of his hair. He moved in circles and other various shapes, up and down, side to side. You moaned his name several times under your breath, not wanting to come just yet, but equally wanting to come so badly it hurt.
Capturing your clit between his lips, Harry hummed against you, making your entire body quiver. Then ever so gently tapping you with his tongue, you began to feel the tremble in your stomach. With one more lick up your slit, you couldn't take it any longer.
"Holy shit!" you cried, grasping at his curls.
Harry didn't lift his head until your orgasm had completely ripped through you and you were left shaking. Licking his lips, he smiled at you, releasing your thighs and running his hands down your legs.
"Still miss me, baby?" he asked.
You nodded, your breaths slowly evening out. "More than ever."
Harry chuckled, lightly kissing the insides of your thighs. "Good."
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sunghoonnsupremacy · 8 months ago
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✮ DRUNK HABITS.
- bff!yang jungwon x bff!reader
- genre : a little bit of smut
- warnings : making out, fingering, mentions of drinking, alot of cussing and dirtytalk, reader is reffered to as slut & good girl.
- wordcount : 591
- a/n : this wasn't supposed to get so long but i was horny and tired so here we are (wrote this under 20 minutes, not proofread)
jungwons lips slide over yours for the tenth time the past minute as the light smell of grape flavoured soju lingers in both of your breaths. his hand slowly leaves your thigh, moving towards your clothed core. your breath hitches in  your throat, taking a break from kissing him. "can i?" his eyes don't leave yours when his hand begins caressing your upper thigh. you nod, too scared your voice will betray you. he clicks his tongue and pinches your thigh softly, receiving a whimper from you.
he holds you by your waist, bringing you to sit on his lap as he whispers in your ear. "words, y/n. tell me you want this." you mentally curse at yourself for falling apart so easily but you find the courage to reply. "please.. wonie. I want it." muttering a praise, jungwons lips find yours again as right his index and middle finger circle your clit through your panties that are exposed by your short mini skirt. you try to kiss back but with the pressure on your bundle of nerves, it's hard.
his fingers slide your panties to the side and rub against your opening, collecting the layer of slick covering it. you bite your lip in order to conceal your moans when he slowly presses one of his fingers inside and lays you down on the couch, hovering over you. his eyes bore into yours when his finger reaches deep inside your cunt. "think you can take another one, baby?"
you nod but he immediately slows his pace, sighing. "use your fucking words or this won't continue." feeling you clench at his dirty talk, he chuckles and continues his torturingly slow pace. "I-I can take it. please just- let me cum." jungwon smirks and adds his middle finger inside you, speeding up.
you can already hear the wet noises coming from your cunt, making you moan even louder. he adds a finger without informing you, erupting a loud moan from your throat. "fuck- wonie!" he slams them inside repeatedly, his dick getting hard at your constant clenching around his slim fingers. seeing you're close to your orgasm, he begins rubbing your clit with his thumb. you yelp, coming undone on his fingers. jungwon keeps going till your legs shake- your cum coating his fingers. he pulls them out after a few minutes, groaning at the amount of cum.
"didn't think you were such a slut, y/n. letting your own bestfriend finger fuck you while drunk?" he scoffs, gripping you by your chin and forcing you to open your mouth, slamming his fingers inside. "taste so good, right? might have to stuff my fingers inside you more often." you slurp up all your juices, looking up at him with a fucked out look in your eyes. jungwon removes his fingers when he feels they're all clean and pats your cheek softly.
"good girl." you could practically feel yourself getting wet at that- or was it just the soju? he wipes you clean with a tissue and lays down beside you, wrapping a arm around your waist and laying you on top of him. "I'll give you head if you buy me food next time." you let out a breathy sigh, laying your head on his chest.
he rolls his eyes and squeezes your waist. "you'll be sucking me off without me buying you food, trust me." you look up at him with a challenging smirk. "yeah? we'll see about that." he smirks back at you, running his fingers through your hair. "challenge accepted, baby."
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bountydroid · 7 months ago
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Darlin' pt 2
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pt 1 / pt3
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)
Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.
TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting
I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.
I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off. 
I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there. 
"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.
After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.
"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."
I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.
There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.
"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.
At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over. 
I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."
At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."
I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.
"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.
"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid. 
We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.
"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed. 
"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed. 
I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring. 
After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.
-
I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."
I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.
"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.
"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.
He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"
I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again. 
"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."
"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."
"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.
He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"
"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out. 
We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him. 
"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. 
"Wha-" I asked confused.
"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me. 
Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off. 
I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me. 
"A fiend." I thought to myself.
Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.
-
The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed. 
"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me. 
I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"
"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along. 
A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal. 
I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"
"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.
"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.
Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office. 
"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face. 
"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.
I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.
"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him. 
"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.
"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.
I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.
"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.
I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.
I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me. 
"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.
He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."
"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face. 
"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.
"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve. 
He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him. 
An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.
tag list: @msrawog
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sebscore · 1 year ago
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Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(
GIDDY GOODBYES 
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pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader
author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((
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''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus. 
Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile. 
''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races. 
Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.'' 
''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them. 
''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.'' 
The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them. 
''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her. 
The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it. 
Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)'' 
They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them. 
''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well. 
''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response. 
The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump. 
She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times. 
The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying. 
''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head. 
''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her. 
Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love. 
As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?'' 
Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.'' 
Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver. 
''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother. 
''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her. 
''We will.'' 
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justwinginglife · 4 months ago
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Hello! May I kindly request a one-shot where the third division has a betting pool about if freader and hoshina are dating (because they kept their relationship a secret, but are kinda obvious about it)?
And the way the others find out is because they either find them in the act or because they accidentally walk in on hoshina proposing to freader?
I love this prompt so much-thank you for fueling my brain with the delicious idea.
The Third Division was a rowdy bunch, though strong and disciplined on the battlefield, at home base they needed to find some manner of venting their chaotic energy. This week, the topic was you and the Vice Captain.
Kafka had made a drunken comment at the party last night that the reason you and Hoshina had both shown up late to dinner was because y'all were fucking somewhere in some back alley and that got people thinking about how you both always seemed to be missing at the same time and reappearing hours later together.
They recalled how you both had showed up to the rookie induction looking somewhat tousled, and you had even smoothed Hoshina's hair back into place for him when you thought no one was watching. What kind of officer dared touch their superior officer that familiarly? There had to be something going on.
And then there was that time when you got injured fighting a kaiju and Hoshina disappeared from his training, claiming he was just doing the rounds but his "rounds" consisted of pacing back and forth in front of the infirmary doors until he got word of your recovering state.
"I bet 20 bucks they're secretly dating." Iharu said grinning as he slapped the bill down on the center of the table. The other officers sitting at the table look around at each other, smirking and nudging one another.
"I'll take that bet. Those two have zero chemistry- you remember when Y/N beat Hoshina's short range combat record? He was pissed. They're rivals, I say. I bet he waited outside of that infirmary to rub her weakness in her face." Haruichi said, leaning back in his chair.
"No way- I bet he thought it was sexy that she beat his record. He was probably just hot and bothered when you thought he was pissed." Someone else chimed in.
"No but remember, she didn't go with Hoshina after that happened. She went up to Narumi instead. I bet she has a thing for Narumi."
"You idiot- didn't you hear her insulting him, saying she was going to kick his ass too? There's no way she'd be into him."
The officers begin arguing about different moments that they remember and who they think you'd be into. One person even suggests you're into Mina instead.
Ichikawa holds his hands up. "Guys, guys. We shouldn't be talking about this, this is private stuff."
The other officers stare at him, waiting for him to continue.
"...but if I had to guess, I'm with Iharu, she's totally dating the Vice Captain." He finishes, earning a couple chuckles around the table.
"Well, well. What do we have here? A little illicit betting ring in the cafeteria?"
All the officers still as the platoon leaders start to file in. They look intrigued and amused.
Someone coughs but then finally explains to them what they're all betting on.
The platoon leaders look at each other and then look around to make sure you and the Vice Captain are nowhere in sight. Then they start throwing money down on the table too. "We're team Y/N and Vice Captain." They whisper and then they walk over to sit at their own table, laughing and shoving at each other.
The officers are stunned at the wad of money that's now collected in front of them.
"Someone's got to figure this out." Iharu mumbles as he eyes the large stack.
"Allow me to answer for you." You say, stepping through the doors of the cafeteria and sweeping up the pile of money.
Everyone's eyes and mouths widen.
"P-Platoon Leader L/N." Ichikawa stutters. "What are you d-doing here?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Settling a bet, apparently." You hold up the bundle of money. Then you call over your shoulder, "What do you think Hoshina? Should we give them their answer?"
The Vice Captain emerges from behind you, causing all eyes to drop to the floor as they avoid his gaze.
He smirks at the sight as he nears them. "We're not dating. And it's none of your business anyway. 50 laps around the building for gossiping. That includes you too." He swings his head around to look at the table of platoon leaders that have been eavesdropping. They lower their heads in defeat and join the officers running out the door.
Then it's just you and Hoshina alone in the cafeteria. He laughs as you flip through all the bills in your hands.
"Told you that you shouldn't have fixed my hair in front of everyone." He teases as he leans down to kiss your cheek.
"And who was the one waiting for me outside the infirmary like an idiot?" You shoot back, pinching his cheek.
He rolls his eyes. "That Kafka has a big mouth. But he's right about one thing. I do wanna fuck you in some back alley, though I'll settle for right here."
He pulls you closer and starts making out with you when suddenly Captain Ashiro walks through the doors, causing you and him to freeze, mid-embrace.
She eyes you both up and down and then says with a smirk, "I'm telling all the officers they owe me money."
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purpleyoonn · 8 months ago
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haze || petrichor
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A PETRICHOR SHORT
In which you go through the haze of your inevitable first heat with your mates. Pleasure and passion fight to take your senses as you let your mates take care of you and your desires.
Takes place after chapter 19 of Petrichor.
events not in order. just a collection of hazy memories from her heat.
tags: pure smut with a lil fluff, feral jin, cum smearing, cunnilingus, knotting, some mmf action, polyamorous relations, sub jungkook, dom yoongi, pussy eating, breast play, overstimulation, mc engulfed in pleasure, mentions of cock sucking,
completely unedited/unbeta'd
enjoy :)
masterlist | petrichor 19 | navigation
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You're not sure where you begin and where your mates end. You've never felt this type of heat before and it only seems to become quenched when you're with them, connected by the forces of the mate bond you'd only just fulfilled.
"Baby..." You vaguely hear Jimin's breathy moans as he takes you from behind, his lips creating constellations on your back as he tries to bring you both to your ends. Body alight with sensations even your naughtiest dreams couldn't conjure, you can't help but clench with every thrust, wanting your alpha to knot you. Wanted his knot.
His hand slipped from your waist, over your hips, giving a quick squeeze to them before moving under to your clit, needing you to come together.
"Alpha" You whine out, hands shaking as you try to hold yourself up on the bed, fingers curling into the fabric of the blankets below, smelling the alluring combination of your mates as you try to take deep breaths.
"That's it my loves," Hobi encourages from your side, his hand now rubbing circles into your side as he helps steady you so you don't fall. "Let your Alpha take care of you, 'mega." His hand moved from your side to your breast, groping as he moved to lay under neath you, his mouth taking your other breast in as he lapped at your nipple.
You let out a small whimper at the feeling of Jimin's knot swelling, the pleasure making your toes curl and back arch towards your mate. You began to push back, needing to feel your mate closer to you, only for him to hold your hips tight, squeezing again as he pushed your head down into the pillow, taking control.
Hobi only moaned at being squished underneath you, your breast still in his mouth as he continued to assault your chest.
Jimin's alpha took over as he sped up the pace, his fingers working to bring you to release just as his knot locked into place.
-*-*-
"Please, please, please" You chant through your haze, body jolting with each and every thrust of your mate. You gripped your arms around his neck, holding him close in an attempt to not pass out from pleasure. Despite your lucidity, you were completely unable to move. Not that you wanted to.
"That's right, love. Make her come once more. Make our omega come and I'll let you come in her." Yoongi's voice rasped in his own ears, his body laying against Jungkook's as he pounds into his tight hole. His eyes locked with your own as he moved.
Jungkook moved his head, placing a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest, his lips moving until they were wrapped around your nipple, sucking.
"Alpha" you moaned, breathless from the assault on your senses. You couldn't look away from your alpha, not even as his eyes closed and his pace slowed, harsher thrusts replacing the quick, feeling his knot begin to swell.
You can't tell whose hand touches where, but soon enough your lost in light as your orgasm hits, the feeling of being filled your only anchor to earth.
Despite both of their knots locked in, Jungkook doesn't stop moving, tugging on Yoongi's knot and making little gasps leave your lips as he continues to pump into you, small thrusts to help keep his cum inside you. To feel you clench around him. To make those sweet tears of overstimulation fall down your beautiful cheeks.
"That's enough, pup." Yoongi pulls at his hair, causing a hiss to leave his lips.
-*-*-
His lips are suckling at your scent gland, pink haze glazed over your eyes as you try to hold onto your sanity. You could feel his knot tugging at you as you attempt to wrap your legs around his waist.
"Ah ah, little one." Jin pulls back, eyes dark as he looks down at you, his marks littered around your neck and chest, a way to make sure everyone knew you were his. He could practically feel his knot swelling again, but he fought the urge to pump into you again.
His thumb brushing against your cheek, a tear following his trail as he moves again, this time, feeling the swelling of his knot going down finally.
"Jinnie.." You whimper, feeling him pull out and the emptiness form before settles in. You liked feeling full, feeling connected with them. It settles something deep within you and you didn't quite know how to feel.
"Now, little one, let alpha finish what he was doing." He tutted, lips smacking as he sent another dark look your way. You knew by now his alpha was present and you could already feel yourself getting hot again.
Jin and his alpha brought out something in you, something primal that loved to be marked and claimed and devoured until only the feeling of him was left.
You tensed up and bucked away from the feeling of his finger at your core, too sensitive to continue despite your thoughts wanting otherwise. A small slap to your inner thigh had you freezing, not knowing what your alpha was doing.
"Just relax baby, gonna scent you." His words settled into your skin, your eyes closing as you tried to relax, listening to the sound of him humming as he continued to press his fingers into your core.
The next thing you knew he was rubbing something onto your stomach and sides, his fingers warm as he massaged whatever it was into your skin.
You open your eyes, curious, only to see him going back to your core and scooping out the mixture of your cum and bringing it to your chest, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing his cum in circles.
"That's it, little mate, gonna smell like me for weeks."
-*-*-
Taehyung felt ravenous, like nothing was going to sate the hunger he had inside of him but you. His hands wrapped around your hips and laid against your stomach, holding you to the bed as he licked up your slit, gathering up your slick.
He loved the taste of you, sweet honey and almond.
Hu hummed in approval only making you squirm even more against his tongue. Taehyung knew that you loved the feeling of them humming, loved the vibrations it sent up your core.
Another wave of slick had him lapping at your cunt, moving in as far as he could until your taste was all his brain could comprehend. He wanted the taste of you to consume him, mind, body, and soul.
You tugged at his scalp, fingers knotted in his curls as he brings you to another orgasm, nose nudging at your clit only adding to the stimulation.
He knew his face was a mess as he tried to drink from you, not wanting a single bit of your release to go to waste. Not when it could go to him.
He could hear you cry out, pleasure consuming you again as he only prolonged your orgasm, dragging it out to he could continue his feast.
-*-*-
"You need to eat more, baby. Please." You pouted as the piece of fruit touched your lips. You didn't want any more food.
"Omega." Namjoon scolded you as you ignored Jungkook, a jolt going through your body as you felt him twitch inside you.
"Omega, if you eat a couple more pieces, " Jimin looked directly at Jungkook, "I bet Jungkook will let you have him as Alpha gives you another knot." Jimin had a shit eating grin on his lips, wanting to fulfill his own selfish desire of seeing your lips around Jungkook's cock.
It seemed you wanted it too, your eyes glazing a little as you looked down to his hard cock, only inches away from your face as he tried to feed you.
"But you need to eat, 'mega." Jimin coos, taking the fruit from Jungkook's hand and moving it back to your mouth, watching as you open your lips and take the fruit between your teeth.
The sight of you eating the piece of fruit had a new meaning, Jungkook and Namjoon both becoming even more aroused knowing you wanted them again.
Jungkook couldn't wait to know how your lips felt around his cock.
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buccini555 · 9 months ago
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟐
♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine at the end)
♡ Headcanons and Imagines .ᐟ .ᐟ
♡ 𝑭𝒕. Sanzu Haruchiyo
𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 ♡ . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢
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tw: stalker mention, toxic relationship, obsession, submission mention, mention of substance use (pills)
𝗦𝗮𝗻𝘇𝘂 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘆𝗼: He had been indirectly chasing you for a while like a true stalker, after the first time he saw you, Haruchiyo was never able to get you out of his head, ending up remaining obsessed with you and your attractive appearance, even so, he was not confident enough to come to you and show such an unhealthy feeling, yet, after a while, you ended up getting involved in an intense, euphoric and often toxic way.
Sanzu is extremely romantic, you have no shortage of flowers and gifts, he is the conquering type and would die for you, being totally submissive in secret, Haruchiyo likes to do your bidding, his way of showing love is usually with acts of service, sometimes he also ends up being needy and demanding a lot of your time and attention, Sanzu is affectionate and kind, he doesn't like to see you sad and despite being involved with serious matters, he maintains a loving behavior when he is with you, rarely showing signs aggressive or something like that.
You usually meet in hotels or at Haruchiyo's own house, these meetings happen every day after Bonten meetings and are usually very discreet, Sanzu prefers to keep you a secret for your safety, despite this fact, he doesn't mind showing up in public by your side, taking you to meetings outside of private places, he also sees no problem in admitting your relationship to people close to you.
Your relationship often ends up becoming troubled, Haruchiyo is jealous and possessive, he often ends up not knowing how to control these feelings and you end up fighting, but these are just some of Sanzu's "red flags", as previously mentioned, he is a stalker, in addition to often invading your privacy to stay aware of everything that is going on in your life, he keeps a collection of photos of you in every possible situation. Another fact that ends up making your relationship turbulent is the use of substances by Haruchiyo.
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"... Baby? Are you awake?" It was already exactly 3 am and Haruchiyo arrived home seeing that you ended up sleeping on the couch while waiting for him, checking that you weren't awake, he held you on your lap with the intention of taking you to bed.
"Mm... Haru?" You felt Sanzu's touch, ending up slowly waking up in his arms. "I'll put you in our bed, it's okay?" He said and then placed you under the sheets.
"I'm awake now, Haru." Still dazed and yawning, you exclaimed as soon as Haruchiyo placed you on the bed. "It's late, sorry for waking you up, my princess."
Unbuttoning the buttons on his social shirt, he turned to you looking you up and down while you were still actually waking up. "Hmm? Am I going to have to make you sleep again?" He finished taking off his shirt and lay down next to you, pulling you closer and ending up sealing your lips with a brief, intense kiss. "Hmrm..." You responded to his advance by nodding your head while he kissed you, making your entire body awaken at the same moment due to the desire to have him.
His hands slid down her body as that kiss continued with even more intensity, lifting the thin fabric of your Sanrio nightwear, he held her tightly around your waist, placing your body against his, then the kisses became more intense he reached your neck and chest while one of Haruchiyo's hands went down to your intimacy, making you let out a small moan.
"You belong to me, you're mine, right?" He stated in a few words as he put his hand down your shorts, realizing how wet your pussy was, his movements were slow and exactly precise, Sanzu knew exactly what he was doing as he muffled your moans with another kiss. "... I know my fingers won't be enough to satisfy you." With a smirk, he said. "I-I need you, r-right now." Panting, you responded, looking him up and down, realizing how excited he was for you at that moment. "Beg, beg for me honey." Haruchiyo held you steady and placed you on your back, raising your hips to his level. "P-please, Sanzu, I need you." Pressing your intimacy even more on his member, you did your bidding.
At that point, he no longer wanted to waste any more time, so he put his underwear aside. At first, the thrusts were slower, then they ended up becoming faster and more intense while he held her hair and marked her body with a few slaps. "C'mon babygirl, cum for me right now." He says while fucking you intensely.
"You want more, don't you, little slut?" He questioned, increasing his rhythm, keeping you closer and closer to your peak. "M-more... Please, please. Mmm...mm" He continued with even more force, making your legs shake and your moans become uncontrollable, Haruchiyo wasn't too far from his peak, so he just decided go even faster. "Y-yes...y-yes, fuck!" Testing all the limits of your body as you dissolved in pleasure in front of the his eyes. "F-fuck, you're such a fuking slut." Pulling your hair and making you look at his face, he withdrew from inside you, pouring all that hot and viscous liquid down your back, getting up immediately to clean up all the mess he had made, after that, he got up, he just lay down next to you and pulled you to sleep on top of him.
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goldsbitch · 2 months ago
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Hypochondria
part 4 to p1, p2, p3
He can sense her emotions, she feels his pain. Baby steps, that's the only way to go.
author's note: guess who's back - and a promised smut chapter turned into slow burn. any reported typos are appreciated. there will be p5.
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"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."
He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.
Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, head getting filled with desire and lust. Lando's lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.
"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."
Lando was on cloud nine. He was just staring at her as if she was a miracle. Her deep eyes unable to stay away from looking at him and lips that had a silent invitation written on them.
He was high on the way how relaxed she felt, proud that he made her feel like that. It was as if there was no yesterday or tomorrow. Just them and the couch. And after few moments of silence and collecting his bravery, Lando leaned in and kissed her.
It was clear to him from the moment he took her upper lip in that he'd give anything for this moment to take at least a thousand years. She did not hesitate and kissed him back immediately. The sweetest touch a woman can give. Leaned in and let nature do its miracles. He smiled into her lips and pushed himself closer to her, making her sink in the couch.
It was right then when a loud, impatient knock nearly sent them both into shock. Lando froze and back away from Y/N little bit, furious with whomever that dared to disturb a key moment in their lives.
"Lando, I apologize, but we have an urgent matter on our hands."
He rolled his eyes and let a deep breath out, recognizing the voice of his workoholic PR manager. This was not the first and probably the last time he had to tell his team off in the dark of the night. Internet never sleeps.
"Can it really not wait this time until tomorrow?" he said before he gave Y/N shameful and apologetic look. She just kept herself quiet, sunken into the comfy couch.
"I'm afraid we will need some immediate action," came from behind the door after another impatient knock.
Lando got his phone out to check the time, only to see 17 missed calls from several people.
"Ok, I'm coming."
He half opened the door to a very flustered PR manager, who looked like he was about to announce a coming tornado. Lando just raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to spill the beans and then planning on dismissing him.
"Anita released a break up TikTok. It's going viral."
As far as emergencies go, this one felt to Lando like a second-tier one. He was more concerned about the anxiety he felt coming from Y/N. Kind of wished she was kept out of it, for her own good.
"I'm sure we can address this in few hours," Lando replied calmly.
"She accused you of cheating. In a very colorful manner, I must say," the guy continued, as if he was not confident enough to fully explain the situation. "I'm in touch with her publicist, so that we can come up with a joint statement online. Apparently she won't talk to anyone but you."
Lando stayed silent, the only thing he really wanted was to close the door and return to the couch.
"We can't have another cheating scandal. McLaren will get involved," he pleaded once again in hopes of finally convincing Lando.
Deep breath. "Sure. Can I meet you at the lobby or somewhere in few minutes?" Lando caved in. A puzzled look flashed over his PR's manager, because usually Lando preferred to solve his crises in the comfort of his suite. The driver hoped no comment would come his way. After few seconds, the guy finally nodded.
"Understand, sure. I'll see if we can get the conference room."
He closed the door and tried to brace himself for any type of reaction Y/N might have. But deep inside he knew - seen it countless times. She abruptly got up, fixed her clothes, flashed him only one quick look before avoiding his face completely.
"Um, I'm gonna-"
"Yeah," he said, letting her pass by. The reality hit hard. She barely knew him. Somehow, the air got flooded with inescapable loneliness.
//
Y/N tried her best to follow her daily routine the following week. The memory of her running away from Lando's room like a little child chasing her like a nightmare. It was just so humiliating. The guilt, unjustified, was eating her up. She tried to stay away from social media, but her will was not strong enough. Late night scrolling included absorbing lot of Lando hate.
He also did his best to keep himself busy and focus on his job. If it had been any other person, he'd already be chasing Y/N down and try to reason with her, get this experience behind them and keep starting fresh. Perhaps he was lucky, that he knew her and if he's pushed immediately, she'd just hide even more.
He found himself on the track during free practice, constantly stealing glances over to the medical tents, just to get a glimpse of his guilt ridden soulmate. All he wanted to do was shake some sense to her. That evening he finally snapped. No more hiding. He was about to get creative.
So there he was, alone once again in a random hotel room in a city he barely remembered the name of, trying to get a hand of morse code. Something he never thought would be his issue, ever. It was a shot in the dark. Pinch a message into his arm and hoping she'd understand his intention. After all, she felt his pain, so he figured if he was annoying enough, she'd have no choice but to show up. Many curse words were uttered about the absurdity and difficulty of it all, before Lando got a hand of it. He opted to focus on the rhytmn and after he felt confident enough, abandoned tapping into a table and began pinching his left hand.
Let's talk. Room 1014. Please.
Over and over again. It was so incredibly annoying. But, he was going to persevere even if it meant having a bruise tomorrow.
After what felt like like seven thousand years - a knock on the door.
This was it, he thought as he opened the door to another annoyed person. She shot arrows from her eyes and he could not help but smirk. He won, she cracked the code.
"Now, let's get one thing clear. You are not going to use this trick outside of an emergency. Ok?" she opened with, having hard time to admit he won that round. It's been few days since they last locked eyes. She could practically sink in his. He just gave her a small nod, definitely not planning on misusing this ever again. Absolutely not.
"I'm glad you understood," he said and let her walk in. Was he nervous? That was probably the closest thing to describe it.
"I don't know the Morse code, so that made it super fun," she proclaimed and stopped in the middle of the living room, not sitting down on any of the chairs or couches.
"Me neither. But you better learn it, you never know..." he teased and walked dangerously close to her. She kept her gaze down.
She spoke before he could say any more cheeky lines. "So, I'm here. Anything specific you wanted to say that exceeded your ability of speaking in Morse code?" Her coldness hurt. However, he was not going to let her push him away so easily. "Y/N, this is not going to work on me. You can't push me away so easily, so just try and stop it. Please." Big gulp on her part followed by a light nod. "Good. Listen, I don't want to let this fizzle out so easily. It's hard to think about anything else once I've met you. I'm sorry about the whole break up mess. It's not fair to you. But, in my defense, I had no idea I'd just randomly be sat next to...you," he said, practically breathing out the last word.
She began walking frantically. "It's...um, it's a lot. Your world. And then the fact you seem to know things and are so far ahead in this game."
"It's not a game to me, Y/N," he said, watching her pace around the room.
She stopped by the bed and sat on it, finally able to look at him again. "Ok, bad word, but still," she paused and searched for the right words. "We have nothing to connect with...I mean nothing real."
Lando was not going to buy into doubts. His mind was set. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat next to her.
"Does it scare you? That you are tied to me basically against your will?" he asked the one thing he was afraid to hear the answer to. But he figured that the beginning was never suppose to be easy anyway.
"A little bit. Actually yes, it does," she said, in a strangely releaved tone and his heart sank just few stories lower. Lost in his own head, he nearly missed her giving up on sitting and landing on her back with a thud, eyes locked with the ceiling.
"I never liked being pushed into things. It's my life, I get to call the shots," she began to let her thoughts run freely.
"Choosing something that comes to you willingly does not have mean giving up your free will...I'd just like to at least give this a chance. I know already that I can't be your friend," he whispered, turned his look towards her and slowly lowered himself on his back as well, lost in his thoughts once again.
Lando's body laid still, but his heart was beating as if he was in the final quali lap. He had the advantage, drew the better card. Unique insight into another human's soul. Short cuts and few cheat answers for any test ahead of them. So why did it make him feel all the more lonely? He was reaching out, confused in the exact same capacity as she was, but she was not giving him much back. Yet. If was obvious. He was miles ahead of her, not thanks to his own doing. He could be there for her, but it would take some time and a lot of luck for her to be able to be there for her.
"Can you stay here? For the night?" he asked in a soft low voice, unable to hide his own vulnerability. "Not like, you know," he added immediately, hoping he comes off the least creepy as possible, "Just like this." Baby steps. He was praying for just that.
The body next to him also laid still in a very stiff manner, the exact opposite of relaxed. But the pull towards him was just too loud to resist. It was stronger than her. Curiosity tripped over the tiny fear inside her, grabbed the innate desire for human connection by the hand, and together opened the door for Lando to enter.
"Yes," she whispered, wondering if there is anything she wanted to add.
A small smile crept onto Lando's face. He got up and shit the light off. Both of them settled in a more relaxed pose, albeit still fully dressed. If by some miracle he manages to fall asleep, he will be waking up next to this magnificent, magical being for the first time. And hopefully not the last.
They laid next to each other, like the strangers they were, for few minutes, before she found her own little hand reaching out for his. Soft fingers mixed with his. At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. Lando's heart almost stopped, his breath caught in and resulted in gulp, too loud for the current setting. She could not help but smile and tried to hide it with pressing her lips together - even though it was dark night and both of them had their eyes closed. He mimicked her movements and traced her fingers as well. Every little place he touched burned with intoxicating intensity. He held her index finger lightly while she brushed up and down his thumb.
For the first time in years, Lando was careful. He'd rather lie next to her in silence than risking her wanting him to leave. The guilt from bruising her with his crash still hadn't left his mind. But when her hand crept more and more inside of his, he could not help but circle around it, until he was covering her hand completely. The air was still. Two scared souls discovering each other, tiptoeing around as if they were made of glass. Once Lando started drawing little circles on the palm of her hand, he finally felt her beginning to relax. He was still trying to get his mind wrapped around how the whole connection worked. Perhaps the more open she was to communicating with him, the more of a window he got. His next words slipped through without much of a thought.
"I've dreamt about you probably thousand nights."
Y/N could not recall the last time she heard a sentence that sounded so honest. Raw, it was almost childlike. She thought about her own countless nights when she slept alone and longed for a soul to crawl to. And also all those times she wasn't alone in the middle of the night, yet it still felt like eating someone else's dinner. The emptiness never truly filled. Hand never fitting someone else's like a well-fitted glove. Was there ever anyone who told her something like this before? Probably not. Of course not.
"I'm scared," she repeated.
"I know," he smirked for himself only. "I can feel it...But can you please tell me what's scaring you at this moment? I'd love to understand."
This time it was her who chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit. His heart once again beating so loudly he was scared she could hear it.
"I randomly meet this man, this devilisly handsome guy, who seems to know things I've never even told anyone, is hyperaware of my emotions as if they were his own...How am I suppose to resist this?"
"Why would you?"
"If we proceed with this, I am basically allowing you to become a weapon designed to destroy me. If, or more likely when, I fall for you...How can anyone else ever top that? If you decide that you're bored with me, I'll quite literally only be left with bruises."
He listened to every word as if it was a gospel and this time took a second to calculate his response. Lando opened his eyes to try and see a glimpse of her face in the dead of night, only to find her already looking at him.
"As far as I remember, you were always a part of my life. The one constant that does not leave," he said and licked his dry lips. If she was becoming vulnerable, he'd have to do the same. "If I fuck this up, if you decide that I am not worth spending time with and if you walk away...I'll still be left with the glimpses. I'll have to watch from afar, knowing you don't feel this. Funnily enough, you have the option to choose. I don't."
"And do you even want it? Would you-" she tried to continue with her question, but he interrupted her immediately.
"Of course. Hundred times over. I know you're scared, but I am scared too. Because there is a perfect piece of puzzle right in front of me and if I fuck it up, I am ruined for life."
She only saw a small reflection of light in his eyes, but that was enough to understand he was serious. Her shoulders relaxed and she let a breath she didn't know she had been holding, out.
"Well, good to know you are a dramatic person," she responded, trying to lighten up the mood.
It worked, his small smirk entered the chat again. "Yeah well, get use to it," he said with a new found confidence, tried his luck once more and scooted over to her just a little bit.
"Sorry, there was a hard spot in the matrace," he said cheekily and closed his eyes, trying to play it cute.
His body heat radiated towards her. "Of course, a hard spot in this top-of-the-world matrace," she questioned his argument with a smile, his magic getting her head-over-heels.
"Yes, I'll complain with to the staff tomorrow, these things can really fuck up your sleep, you know."
"So true. And what, have you solved it now?" Another door opened. Lando smiled.
"Still not perfect," he remarked, pretended to have a moment to think and finally scooted over and put his arm around her. "Yeah, this is the only way I'm afraid."
She was glad his eyes were closed, because her smile was impossible to hide. Both of them were fully aware there is no hard spot on the matrace. "Of course it is," she commented, as she settled down in his embrace.
Her face was now settled in crook of his neck, her uneven breaths leaving goosebumps on his skin. His light stubble teasing her forehead. Once again, Lando was overwhelmed just how well she fit in his embrace. He had to actively try and breathe regularly, because he was anxious about giving away just how much he was enjoying having her in his embrace. Her hand was pressed against his chest and Y/N had to fight every cell in her body, because the urge to explore his body was overcoming her. Lando shifted a bit, having to to try and find a spot where his belt wasn't pressing on his body in a way that hurt. Immediately, he felt a sudden wave of guilt coming from her and she bolted straight up. Had he fucked it all up? He cursed himself, he should have just pushed through it.
He forgot to take in the fact she felt his pain. "What's wrong?" he asked shyly, as he also sat up to match her moves.
She took a deep breath. "I don't want to seem like I'm suggesting something, but can we get out of our daily clothes? I hate sleeping like that." Who would like that anyway, was the thought that crept into Lando's mind, but he kept it for himself. "Sure, no problem."
"Do you have some t-shirt I could borrow?" she asked, turning on the light next to his bed, sitting with her back turned to him, perhaps trying to hide away. Lando tried his best not to get shaken up and loose his cool. This wasn't her running away and it was also not her suggesting anything.
"Of course," he said and got up to search up the best clean t-shirt her had. She took a deep breath as she tried not to stare, guessing by the sounds that he was getting undressed. But, as she did, she was happy he did not see her blush. Just like he did before, she forgot to take in account that he felt her sudden arousal and curiosity without having to look at her. For a change, he was happy he had his advantage. He peeked over to her, seeing her abrupt turn back. It was hard not to be amused by her.
"Here you go," he said as he strolled back over to her and handed her his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I won't look," he informed her and as the cheeky guy he was deep down, added his signature wink. "I'm sure there is an extra tooth brush in the bathroom, if you wanna join," he continued and walked over to the other side of the suite, hoping she was watching him walk around in boxers only.
Finally having some distance and a minute to contain herself, she carefully undressed, leaving on only her panties and his shirt on. Only then she noticed just how intoxicating his natural smell was. Knowing well enough she was doomed.
When Y/N finally joined him in the bathroom, he gave her the second toothbrush in silence and kept brushing his own teeth. It was refreshing seeing her in such an intimate setting. He tried as best as he could not to notice just how hot she looked in his t-shirt. Watching her in the reflection, he realized he never appreciated a moment like that with anyone else before. He smiled at her, because he could see her shy nature peeking through causing her hair behind her ear.
She was about to join him back in the bed when she saw him placed right in the middle of the bed, far from when was last time she approached him like that.
"It's the hard spot, there is no other way," he brushed over it nonchalantly and tucked himself in the bed. "Come on, here, here," he patted a spot next to him. In the dim light, with shadows only highlighting his toned chest, curly hair falling over to his eyes, innocent smile and opened arms, he was like a mystical creature created only to entrap Y/N. At least, that's how that felt. No way back.
She slipped in the bed with him, to the exact position as they were just minutes ago and turned of the light once again. This time, Lando was way more relaxed even Y/N noticed the difference. With each passing moment it was becoming less and less stiff or awkward. Comfort replacing natural stress of sharing a bed with a stranger for the first time. For a brief second, it was as if they'd done this every night before drifting off to sleep. Lando was happy to take things slow. Not expecting anything more. He was content with knowing she was not planning on leaving him there alone that night and that was enough. Not for Y/N. Her body was acting way before her mind could stop her. Her now warm fingers started drawing little stars on his exposed chest. It was peaceful. Until her finger moved a little lower. Another gulp from Lando. She felt him tightening his grip on her.
"Careful now...I might get the wrong idea," he breathed out for only her to hear.
Their lips were so riddiculously close, yet too far away. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. All restraint suddenly gone. But she needed to be sure - did he wanted to kiss her? If she dared to ask him, he'd laugh out loud at the obviousness of it all. Poor guy didn't notice her desire because he spent all of his energy trying to hide his.
She licked her lips. "Wrong idea...like sending me away?"
Loud sigh from Lando. "No..the wrong wrong idea," he whispered, being so close to her she could feel his soft breath, as he started to move his hard up her arm, under the t-shirt he gave her. She became very aware of the fact she was not wearing a bra, something Lando noticed the moment she came to the bathroom. His arm stopped momentarily at her shoulder. " Wrong idea that you want me to do this..." he continued moving his hand again, "...or this," reached up to her collarbone while pressing her closer to him with his other arm. "Or heaven forbid..." he whispered a question as his lips were nearly touching hers. Lando was too scared to make the first move, still afraid she might vanish into thin air.
She was brave enough to close the gap. "Or this." With that, she kissed him.
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