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#me: then it's just as well i'm not the one holding hands HUH
sturn-saturn · 18 hours
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just this once
pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt
warnings: cooch eating <3
a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.
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one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.
you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.
matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.
you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.
you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.
luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"
"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.
"babe, you know i have a class."
"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."
"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."
"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."
"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."
"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."
matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.
"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.
"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”
“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.
your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”
“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.
he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”
you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”
“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.
you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.
“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.
“mmmm” you hum
“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.
“matt, quit teasing.”
“say please.” with a deadpan look.
“matt, please quit teasing.”
with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.
“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.
you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.
you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.
“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.
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tag list:
@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela
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chrisbesitos · 2 days
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Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:
Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop
idk if that makes any sense but yea
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love
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( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.
( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱
Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.
Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.
It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.
"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"
"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.
"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.
"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."
"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.
You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.
"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.
You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.
"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."
"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.
"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."
"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.
"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.
"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.
"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.
"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.
"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."
"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.
"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.
"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.
"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.
Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.
In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.
"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.
"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.
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he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)
tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2
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bluesidez · 11 hours
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Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)
I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅
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[Five Peas In A Pod]
lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader
summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.
content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad
word count: 4.3k, not proofread
a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!
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“Finally.”
Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.
“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.
“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”
“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”
Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.
“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”
Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.
“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”
Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.
“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”
“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”
You smiled, “Yeah?”
“Of course.”
Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.
You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.
The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.
“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”
Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.
There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.
“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”
You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”
You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.
“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”
“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”
“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.
“Absolutely.”
“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”
“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”
Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.
“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.
“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.
Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.
By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.
Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”
Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.
“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”
The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.
He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.
However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.
Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.
Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.
“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”
“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.
He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.
You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.
His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.
“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.
A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.
“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”
Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.
It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.
Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.
Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.
He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.
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“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”
There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.
The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.
“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”
Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.
You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.
Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.
“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”
You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.
“Son.”
Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.
You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.
“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”
“But-“
“Jaime O’Hara.”
The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.
He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.
“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.
“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”
“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”
The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.
“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”
Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”
He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.
“How could I forget?”
You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”
“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”
A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”
Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.
“Smart idea.”
“Mm hm.”
Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.
Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.
Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.
He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.
His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”
“Messing up what? Your shots?”
Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.
“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”
His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.
“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”
Jaime nodded his head.
“Can you look at me?”
Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.
“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”
With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.
“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”
Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”
Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.
“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”
Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.
One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.
“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.
“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”
“And?”
“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”
“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.
“¿Papá?”
“¿Sí, mijo?”
Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.
With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.
In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.
Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.
“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”
Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”
“Yes, please.”
With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.
“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.
Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.
A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.
“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”
You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.
“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.
Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.
Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.
“Mírame.”
You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.
“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.
You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.
Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.
The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.
Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.
By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.
He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.
“Baby, c’mon.”
“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”
You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.
You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.
“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”
Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.
“You’re so silly,”
“Just in love, mi amor.”
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The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.
Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.
The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.
Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.
Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.
“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”
She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”
“Uh, 6’9.”
A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”
“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.
Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.
At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.
“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.
“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”
Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.
“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.
“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”
“You need some nourishing food, too.”
“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.
“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.
“Already so spoiled.”
“You love it, though.”
“Mm.”
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Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.
Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.
“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”
“Babe. Maybe let’s let the couch and the referee do their jobs.”
“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”
You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.
Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.
“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”
He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.
You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.
“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”
He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.
Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.
“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”
Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.
The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.
Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.
“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”
The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.
When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.
Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.
“I did it, daddy! I did it!”
“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”
“Did you see me, mommy?”
“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”
Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”
Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.
“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.
“I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”
Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.
“You want vanilla wafers too?”
You nod.
“And strawberry syrup?”
“You’re such a good husband.”
You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.
“Mamá! Look what I can do!”
“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”
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“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.
You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.
“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”
Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.
A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.
You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.
“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.
“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”
“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.
“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.
“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”
“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.
“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”
“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.
“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”
��I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”
“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”
Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.
“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”
“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”
Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.
“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”
“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”
“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”
Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.
“It’s on.”
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As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!
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jamdoughnutmagician · 21 hours
Text
Secrets Out (fluff)
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Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Set in the A Cut Above The Rest universe, and kind of follows on from the little fic I wrote a few weeks back. I just love these two and I really like writing little snippits of their life after the fic? idk?
Word Count:1, 772
Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist
“I can’t believe that that’s our baby.” Eddie said, as he looked at the small black and white photograph that you were holding in your hands. “Like that’s inside you right now.”
You were sitting comfortably beside Eddie in his van after coming back from your very first scan. After finding out you were pregnant, the both of you couldn’t have been more thrilled, and the trip to the hospital had been filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
You watched as his big brown eyes shined with bubbling tears threatening to spill over his lashes as looked down on the photo with a soft smile.
“Aw, Teddie, you're getting emotional about this, huh?” You said softly as you rubbed a hand up and down his arm.
“It's not that. It's just… I don't even know what I meant to be looking at.” he chuckled slightly, wiping away his tears. “Like I know it's a baby, but it just looks like a gray blob!” 
“Oh, Teddie! It's okay! It won't look like much right now, our baby is still really small.” You reassured him. “The doctor said everything looks perfectly healthy! That's a good thing! Our little baby's going to have those strong Munson genes.”
“They're going to end up with my big ‘ol schnozz aren't they?”
Leaning in, you press a kiss against his cheek.
“So who do you want to tell first?” you asked Eddie as he plopped down next to you on the sofa, his hair still slightly wet after his shower and vaguely smelling of your coconut shampoo.
“I'm counting on it.”
You and Eddie had discussed it beforehand, and now you were at a safe point in your pregnancy where you felt comfortable telling people the exciting news.
“I was thinking that I wanna tell Wayne first. It’s his birthday next week and I wanna surprise him with the news!”
“I love that idea! You know he’s going to be so excited to hear he’s going to be a pop-pop. He'd always joked to me about wanting grand-kids.”
“And have you had any thoughts about who you’d want as godparents?” You and Eddie had also discussed the idea of having your child have godparents. God forbid that anything happen to either you or Eddie, but you wanted someone who would be able to look after your little one if anything were to happen.
“Well, I know who I want it to be.” Eddie replied confidently. 
“..And I know who I want it to be too. Do you wanna say it on the count of three?”
One. Two. Three.
“Robin and Steve.” you both said simultaneously. 
“Well, that’s that solved.” he chuckled to himself.
You and Eddie arrive at Wayne’s place nice and early, with his favourite dinner that you’d promised you’d make for him tucked under your arm in a glass dish, a lasagna made for sharing, and Eddie carrying a bottle of wine for him and his uncle to share. 
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You and Eddie had spent time in Wayne's place enough for it to feel like a second home, but now with this big secret you were harbouring, suddenly the air felt different as you stepped over the threshold of the house. 
And with the dinner eaten and cleared away, and wine glasses emptied (and thankfully your refusal of said wine went without so much as an graying eyebrow raise from Wayne)
“Thanks for making dinner, darlin’” Wayne thanks in his gruff southern drawl. “But you kids didn't have to come down to spend your day with an old man like me.”
“Of course we did! We couldn't let your birthday go un-celebrated, uncle.”
Eddie says.
“Boy, when you get to be as old as I am, birthday's ain't much to be celebrating besides waking up another day and not being dead.”
“Oh, so you don't want the presents we got for you then?” You ask with a teasing tone in your voice. 
“Now, I didn't say that..” Wayne grumbles despite the slight smile curving at his lips.
You reach for the small gift bag that you had brought along with you, placing it on the table in front of Wayne.
“Just a little surprise for you, Uncle.” Eddie says. “It’s from both of us, we hope you like it.”
You and Eddie watch Wayne open up his present with bated breath. Waiting for the big secret to come out. The ruffles of tissue paper are pulled from the bag as Wayne pulls out his present. A new, very special mug to add to his ever growing collection.
“World’s best grandpa? Boy, I know I’m old, but I ain’t that old yet.” he jokes, looking over to Eddie.
“Actually, Wayne, I think you better look inside that card too.” Eddie prompts, nodding his head towards the bag where the envelope is.
Wayne reaches for the envelope that is tucked away in the bag before opening it up to see the front of the card.
A standard ‘Happy birthday Grandpa!’ card, with a birthday cake and candles on the front.
You and Eddie exchanged a quick glance and shy smiles, realising that Wayne still hadn't quite got the message you were putting across. However, it all came together as he opened his card.
‘Happy Birthday Grandpa Wayne, I can't wait to meet you!’ Written above a picture of your ultrasound that you had taped inside the card. 
“Wait..You’re…Is this real right now? You’re not yankin’ on my chain right now?” Wayne asks as he begins to show the slightest bubble of tears in his usually stern, steely grey-blue eyes.
 “No, it’s not a joke, Wayne! I promise!” Eddie assured him.
“Yeah, we found out a few months ago, and we wanted you to be the first one to know.” you said softly, tears of your own now coming up to gather in your lashes.
“I’m so touched that I got to be the first one to hear about this.” Wayne says, his voice shaky with emotion as he gets up from the table to pull you in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys, I really am.”
Eddie sits back, watching the two people he loves the most in this world sharing in this very tender and soft moment.
“How long was it before this one started freaking out, huh?” Wayne teases, raising his eyebrows towards his nephew.
“Hey, I’ll have you know I didn’t “freak out”, I was actually very excited.” Eddie defends himself.
“No, it’s true. I think I did enough freaking out for the both of us.” you laugh. “I count myself very lucky to have someone like Eddie to hold my hand through this.” 
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You had invited Robin and Steve over to yours and Eddie’s place under the guise of having a chill movie night, but actually you just wanted them both to be together when you told them the news.
“I hope it’s not some sappy, romantic, chick-flick you’ve chosen.” Steve grumbles as he steals a handful of popcorn from the bowl Robin was holding.
“Don’t pretend you don’t secretly enjoy them too, dingus. I caught you crying when you were watching When Harry Met Sally the other week.” Robin calls him out.
“Meg Ryan’s acting got to me, alright!” Steve defends.
“Actually, before we start the film,” you interjected between the pair’s lovable bickering. “Eddie and I have something we wanted to share.” you say.
“Well, we wanted to share some news, and ask you both quite a big question.” 
“You’re pregnant aren’t you?” Robin blurted out.
“Oh my god Robin you can’t just ask that!” Steve chided her with a gentle slap on her arm, but the silence that fell in the room suddenly felt like the loudest thing in the world. “Wait..Are you?”
You manage to huff out a gleeful ‘Yes!’ in between giggles as both Steve and Robin rush up to hug you.
“Congratulations to both of you, that’s so amazing!” Steve smiles broadly.
“I knew there was something up when you passed on doing shots with me after work last week. Oh my gosh, that's fantastic news!!” Robin cheered, her freckled cheeks beaming brightly. “How long have you known?”
“Only a few weeks, it was certainly quite the surprise let me tell you!” you smile as the both release you from the tight hug they had you in.
“And that brings us on to the other important question of the evening..” Eddie said as he laid a gentle and reassuring touch on your shoulders. “We were looking for two godparents, we wondered if you knew any good ones?”
“I think what Eddie means is, would you and Steve consider being godparents to our baby?”
“Is that even possible? You know we're not, like, a couple or anything. Isn’t it too early to do this sort of thing? You only found out a couple of weeks ago, you said so yourself!” Robin babbles
But before Robin can babble anymore Steve speaks over her with tears brimming in his honeyed hazel eyes.
“Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We’d be honoured to.” Steve manages to get out as he wipes away the tears gathering in his lashes.
“Well that went better than I could have imagined.” Eddie said with a smile. “Didn’t bet on you crying so much though, Harrington.”
“Crying? Who’s crying? Not me, this is just..uh..allergies…shut up..” Steve sniffles.
“Well it’s nice to know that our baby’s godfather is already so emotionally invested in them.” you laugh softly.
Resting a gentle hand on the almost unnoticeable curve of your belly, you can’t help the warmth that floods your heart. Even though your baby hadn’t been born yet, you knew that they were already going to be so loved by everyone around them.
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As Eddie strolled into work the following morning, he’s greeted by Randy who was turning the garage’s oil-stained radio down as he came in.
“Your old man told me your girl’s got a bun in the oven,”
“News travels fast around these parts, huh.” Eddie nods, reaching for his toolbox sitting on his work bench. 
Laying a clap to Eddie’s shoulder, Randy fixes him with a stare, his forehead wrinkling as he  raises his dark eyebrows.
“Good fuckin’ luck Munson, you’re gonna need it.”
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@penguinsandpotterheads @aphrogeneias @mrsjellymunson
@eddiesxangel @ali-r3n @seatnights
@munsonsbtch @keeksandgigz
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asherraccoon · 3 days
Text
Sick- Radioapple- Sickfic, Hurt/comfort kinda?
(I'm sick rn so Luci gets to be sick too 😤😤😤)
Lucifer coughed rather loudly. He sniffled, which only resulted in him coughing again. He groaned, hiding his head under the blankets. Lucifer hated being sick. He reached for his phone and checked the time. It was only 11 am. He had been stuck in bed all day, feeling like shit. 
There was a knock on the door. Alastor entered the room holding a tray with food. “Hey,” he said quietly. He closed the door behind him and walked over to Lucifer. 
Lucifer watched as Alastor set the food on the table next to his bed. He coughed into his pillow. “Hi,” he muttered. 
“How are you holding up?” Alastor asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What do you think?” Lucifer retorted. He wasn't in a good mood. But then again, who was in a good mood when they got sick? 
Alastor's ears lowered. He rubbed his neck. “I brought you some soup. Figured it'd be easiest for you to stomach,” 
“I'll eat it when I get hungry,” Lucifer mumbled. He sniffled. “Hand me a tissue will ya?” 
Alastor obeyed the request and handed Lucifer a tissue. 
Lucifer sat up and wiped his nose with the tissue. “Hate being sick,” he murmured. 
Alastor laughed. “Yeah, not many enjoy it,” 
Lucifer threw the tissue in the trash can by his bed. He lay back down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders.
“Anything I can do for you?” Alastor asked. 
Lucifer shook his head. “No. I just need to sleep more and try not to die,” he muttered. He coughed again. And then some more. 
Alastor gently patted Lucifer's back as he coughed. 
“Nooo, don't touch meeee,” Lucifer whined. “I don't want you to get sick,” he said, looking up at Alastor. 
“I don't care if I get sick, I just want you to feel better,” Alastor said, combing Lucifer's messy bangs back with his fingers. 
Lucifer sneezed, accidentally causing himself to shapeshift. He turned into a cat. Blonde fur with black legs and a white muzzle and belly. He blinked his eyes and looked at his paws. “Fuck,” he curled up under the blankets, hiding himself completely. 
“Is that normal?” Alastor asked. 
“No,” Lucifer mumbled. “When I'm sick my shapeshifting gets all wacky,” he whined. “I can't control what I turn into when I'm sick,” 
Alastor pulled the blanket off of Lucifer's cat form and picked him up, setting him in his lap. “Well, perhaps some rest will do you good,” he said, scratching Lucifer's ears. 
“Having me in your lap is a terrible idea,” Lucifer grumbled. “If I sneeze and turn into a horse, I'm going to crush you,” he purred at the scratching. 
“Worth it to me,” Alastor replied, smiling. “As long as you feel better,” 
Lucifer's cat form flicked his tail. He felt a tickle in his nose. He stood up and jumped off the bed so he could sneeze and shapeshift without worrying about hurting Alastor. He sneezed three times, shapeshifting each time. First a bear, then a wolf, then finally a snake. He sniffled and coughed. “Ugh…” 
Alastor's expression shifted to be one of sympathy. “Are you okay?” He asked. 
Lucifer shook his head. He shifted back into his usual form. He rubbed his nose and coughed a couple of times into his arm. “I wish I could just poof my illness away,” he muttered. “Can't just wap bap boom alakazam and be fine, unfortunately,” he said. He coughed again. He lay on his back on the floor. 
“Why don't you try and eat?” Alastor suggested. 
Lucifer shook his head. “No, I'm not hungry,” he said, sighing. He sniffed. “Kill me please…” he muttered, putting his arms over his eyes. 
“Y'know, two years ago that would have sounded very appealing,” Alastor joked. 
“Two years…” Lucifer repeated. He looked at Alastor. “Has it really been that long since we first met?” 
Alastor nodded. “Indeed. I can hardly believe it myself,”
“Huh…” Lucifer stared up at the ceiling.
There was a moment of silence. 
Lucifer got up off the floor and went over to the bed. He lay down on the bed with his head in Alastor's lap. 
Alastor played with Lucifer's hair. “I don't think I've ever seen you sick before,” 
“I don't get sick often,” Lucifer muttered. He pressed his face against Alastor's stomach. “'m tired…” he mumbled. 
“Then go ahead and get some sleep,” Alastor said softly. 
“My nose is too fucked up,” Lucifer complained. 
Alastor sighed. “You should still try,” 
Lucifer huffed. He coughed again. “I wanna die…” he murmered. 
“And I don't want you to die,” Alastor said. He booped Lucifer's nose. “You'll feel better after getting some more rest,” 
“Stop tryna get me to sleep,” Lucifer pouted. 
“No,” Alastor replied. 
Lucifer grumbled. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Alastor's stomach, his arms around the radio demon's waist. “Bambi?” 
“Hm?”
“Can you sing for me?” 
Alastor chuckled softly. “I don't see why not, mon ange,” he continued to mess with Lucifer's blonde hair. He began to sing as Lucifer asked of him. 
Lucifer listened. He enjoyed it when Alastor sang for him. It wasnt long before he finally fell asleep, his mouth slightly open, a soft snore emitting from him. 
Alastor noticed Lucifer fall asleep, but he didn't stop singing until the song was finished. Once he was done, he leaned his head back and sighed softly. “Get well soon, mon ange,” 
(They both ended up sick in the morning 😋) 
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what wasnt being said in the poly poolverine storyline??? youve got me so hooked on this one
Enjoy a smut
"So, Angel baby," Wade demanded when you settled on the couch, "make with the details. What'd they say?"
You take a drink and a deep breath and Logan trades looks with Wade behind your head as they take seats on either side of you. "Well. My brain is still there, so that's good news."
"But," Logan prompted, feeling his stomach sink unpleasantly.
"But," you sigh, "they're going to try some new meds and if that doesn't work surgery IF I'm even a candidate for it. But IF they do that the recovery time is a beast and so is the therapy and-"
"We'll figure it out," Wade said.
You shake your head, "I don't expect you to-"
"Shut up," Logan said without any real heat, dropping an arm around your shoulders.
"And," you sigh, "there's still the risk that it could leave me worse off than I am now."
"We'll figure it all out," Wade said, kissing the side of your head.
"I still understand if-"
"Shut up," they tell you in unison.
Wade grabbed your chin and licked into your mouth, cutting off anything else you could say as he kissed you. His usual gentleness replaced with something like desperation. Days of pent up anxieties that had been gnawing at him bubbling up. And on your other side, Logan isn't about to be left out. Taking advantage of the exposed, tender skin on your neck to make his own feelings about it known. Scraping the flesh with his teeth. Making you whimper
"Aw hell no," Althea muttered, "Not this shit again."
You try to pull away from Wade to stammer an apology but Wade keeps hold of your hair and nips at your lip possessively, grinning when you close your eyes and shiver. "Poor neglected angel baby," he cooed, "Look at her, Peanut-"
The Apartment door slammed with Althea's exit and Logan's only response was to carefully shred your shirt. Leaving you in a bralette and your jeans on the couch. Exposing left over bits of adhesive and the bruises on your arms from blood draws and IVs. And he growls possessively. Burrying his face in your breasts and nuzzling briefly before he knelt in front of you and pushed your knees apart. Kissing the bruises on your arms.
"Good girl," Wade said, pulling off his shirt, "Just relax. Think you can take us today, huh?"
"Want to," you whine, letting your head loll back. "Missed my boys."
"You can do it, Princess," Logan growled, unbuttoning your jeans and trailing soft kisses down your stomach.
"He's so soft for you, baby," Wade purred. "Got us both so owned we're stupid. Not goin' anywhere, 'kay?"
"I just don't want you to have to take care of me," you protest, going tense.
Logan grumbled and pulled your jeans and panties down, leaving you exposed you him, and sank his teeth into your thigh. Sharply enough that you cried out, and he licked tenderly at the bite to soothe it. "Ours," he grunted.
"God that's fuckin' hot-"
"Wade," you whine. It's hard to focus. It's hard to think. It's hard to do anything except WANT when they're touching you like this. And when Logan smirks up at you, teasing your folds with just the pad of his index finger, almost lazily- you can only whimper.
"Angel baby," Wade crooned, "what's the matter, huh? You wanna play too?" He shimmied out of his pants and let his cock spring free, "Come to papa. Let's give you something to do, huh?"
And you do, licking at his tip to tease him. Satisfied when you feel his hands in your hair to stroke it. "That's it, Sweetie. Feels better, hu- Fuuuck. Yes. You know what I- Shit."
"Good girl," Logan growled. Giving you a little more now that you're starting to relax some. Losing yourself like you need to- to not think so much. To not worry so much. And your answering muffled mewl is like music to his ears. "That's it, kid. Gonna put two inside you, kay?" Better Music to his ears s that Wade is helpless in your capable hands. All he can do is sing your praises and try not to fuck your face.
Logan could sympathize- You had some super fucking human blowjob skills and he was willing to bet if Wade so much as twitched he was gonna lose it. But- there were rules. And when you were with them, they'd both agreed "Ladies First" was the first rule. It wasn't going to be fair if you hurt yourself and had to tap out before you got to come. They learned that the hard way.
He kept working you and kept at it, slow and steady. Enjoying the steady cresendo of your release. And when you did come, moaning incoherently around Wade's cock, his breathless little scream made Logan grin as he watched his other lover spatter come down your chest- careful not to get it on your face or in your hair.
"Christ," he panted, "What is this Prom night?"
Logan smirked and kissed you before he kissed Wade, "What's the matter, bub, she get the best of ya?"
"It's the fucking tongue thing. Every time- succubus." He pouted and leaned down to kiss you, wiping come off you with his discarded shirt, "Did you have a gay boyfriend or something? Fuck."
You snort, "If you learn to suck dick, suddenly boys don't care as much if you don't really want to fuck."
"Only because they don't know how to fuck," Logan growled, rubbing your hips.
"Such a DILF thing to say," Wade said, leaning over to kiss Logan, "as soon as I can feel my legs again-"
"As soon as you can feel your fucking legs, you pussy," he said, smirking, "you're sucking my dick while she sits on my face."
"So bossy," Wade pouted, "Guess I gotta get my kisses in now huh? Since Logi-bear decided he wants to be Daddy today."
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glitchxinthematrix · 2 days
Text
IRREDEEMABLE
Part 4
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Love, a concept so complicated to even grasp and yet, every single soul in the universe end up craving it. I have had my share of the cravings, but, news flash, it all resulted in me being left alone stranded. So the concept is now hid safe inside a box. buried deep down somewhere inside, and at times like these I hear the faint screaming it does from the suffocation, all for some acknowledgement. And now, Geto, Love? The one minute he stared longer? Gojo's words kept replaying in my head on my way to find Suguru.
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I wouldnt run my thoughts any deeper into this, i mean why should i? what did he do about this? how long has this been going on, and ,oh fuck , thats a pillar and my head is gonna raamm into-, wait no its soft, wait its a hand, a familiar one, shit-
I slowly raised my head to see geto by the vending machine with one can of his favourite drink and the other hand as a barrier to my head and the wall. and yet he doesnt frickin spare me a look, why te hell is his head stooped so low.
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Walls are everywhere these days huh?,the audacity to joke around right now without even meeting my eye.
"So youre not even gonna look at me?" I blurt out, unexpectedly helpless in my delivery.
As I see him lift his head up very reluctantly and struggle, i find myself doubting everything gojo previously said, miutes ago.
"Whats up y/n". THE NERVE.
"Didnt take you to be a fuckboi Suguru Senpai, following your best friend's steps is it?"
With a confounded expression I saw him squint his eyes and , well that should be a question then.
"You never called, Geto".
His eyes bulged a bit like he wasnt expecting me to care about the things that we did yesterday. I saw him mumble something under his breath while maintaining the good old strained eyebrows.
"What, you dont care about how i feel now that you slept w me?"
I see his expression waver into immediate shock that desperately needed to set some things straight.
"Y/n..you don't know what you're talking about.. please".
No amount of strained expression from him is helping this mixed signal facade that's happening to me. He takes a deep breathe noticing my baffled expression.
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"I do. i do care, more than I've done for anyone else. its just.. by the time you were asleep in my...in my arms, gojo had texted. Soo..it worked. Everything worked out. As intended. Or it didnt, and he came to his senses maybe,finally,else, it doesnt make sense. it makes zero sense. i mean why the fuck would someone not know how to treat you? to treat you shouldnt come as a chore or a result of some challenge, its as natural as breathing air, and idk what was with him all this while, but im sure he realises now, so give him a chance, he'll treat you better I'm sure."
"Is that what you want?"
"What..why..why would it matter, what I think" he visibly gulps, confused.
"It matters to me geto, if you care about me, to know that you like me, I don't know geto you messed with my head, I can't get you out of it...i broke up with gojo."
"What..wait. what?" His face couldn't contain the emotions that rollercoastered through his mind.
"Just say it geto, fucking say it. Do you or do you not like me. Shit, why am I even doing this? " I steer away on my heel as an attempt to hide the tears that are about ruin my mascara, until I feel an immediate grab on my wrist, the same soft hands.
"y/nnn, y/nn....how do i tell you this...you have no idea. not a thing. the way i have craved for you, to be with you, the way i have literally felt my blood boil seeing the way my bestfreind treated you. you have no ideaaa. please dont torment me any more than this, shit im sorry, i know, its not your fault. hell you had no idea how i felt. its just. all you had to do was exist ynnn. the way you aree, the way you smile, hold the hemm of gojos shirt when he failed to pay you the attention you more than deserve, the way you gently hit shoko on her shoulders when you laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way and fuck the way, the way i saw you yesterday, every inch of you, its etched in my memory, by choice. Fuck, I need some water"
I couldn't contain the happiness that bloomed inside me and I had to do something crazy because he looked just too cute.
" for now i can help you moisten your lips I think", I stand on my toes to reach his open mouth, so confused and wary and place the timid but hungry kiss on it, but within seconds he makes sense of things and grabs me by my waist only to land a kiss that lasted longer than the hourly bell that rang twice or thrice after that.
"Aaargh, this...you're tempting me to do something irredeemable again" he breathes with a glistening red lips messy with the stray tints of my lipstick.
"Let's redeem through it this time then."
The smirk on his lips right then looked more promising than ever.
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23 notes · View notes
sysig · 11 months
Note
If your almost out of requests I'll send my second allowed one! Didn't want to send a second one at first though to give other people a shot lol
Howsabout.... something something Scriabin with the vibe from the song "This is Love" by Air Traffic Controller? If vibes from songs are allowed ofc xD
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Day 13 - I know wrong, I know right, I just love to pick a fight
132 notes · View notes
javiscigarette · 8 months
Text
Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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lymtw · 6 months
Text
Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...
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He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.
He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.
"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.
"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.
"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"
"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.
"Did you cum?"
Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.
"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"
"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"
"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.
"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."
"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"
You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.
"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."
"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."
"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.
"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.
"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."
Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"
"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.
You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.
"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"
You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."
You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."
"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.
"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."
"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."
It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.
Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"
You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."
It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.
Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."
"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."
You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"
"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.
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snowsinterlude · 9 months
Text
need someone older.
(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)
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summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.
c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal
being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.
thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.
when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.
you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.
"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.
"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.
"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.
his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.
and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.
"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.
"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"
"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.
"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.
"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.
"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.
"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.
"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.
"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.
"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."
"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.
"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.
"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.
you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"
he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.
"keep it." he said once you took the ring
"but- s-sir, i-"
"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.
he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.
"i hope you know what that means."
"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.
"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."
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ribbonprincess · 7 months
Text
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months
Text
Business Talk || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: You listening to Rafe and Barry talk business on his yacht. (s3 ep6 inspired)
Warnings: swearing, suggestive, idk if theres anything else lmk
Word count: 1,323
A/n: another canon fic because im obsessed with writing these 😖 pls send me canon fic requests 🙏🙏
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
"Oh my God!" Barry yells out as you hastily pull away from Rafe, who groans in frustration, "Fuck, I thought we had more time." His head drops, leaning on your bare stomach, and you can't help but giggle as you reach over for your cover-up. Rafe sighs heavily, adjusting his pants with an annoyed expression.
"Damn, Rafe. Come on, Country Club," Barry calls out, his voice echoing through the boat as he makes his way upstairs to the top deck. "Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me!" When he reaches the final step, he notices you lounging on one of the sofas, looking perfectly composed. You give him a warm smile. "Hey, Barry," you greet him politely.
"Princess," he says with a playful bow, making you giggle at his exaggerated behavior. He then turns back to Rafe, who is still frowning. "You got a whole damn YMCA up on this bitch, dude," Barry exclaims, his eyes darting around the luxurious boat. You sip your drink, watching Barry's antics with amusement.
"Barry, shut up, yeah?" Rafe shouts at him, clearly fed up with Barry's incessant chatter about the boat. Barry throws up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, we need to make a move," Rafe walks over to his shirt and puts it on. "That's all we do, bro. We been making moves. Haven't we, y/n?" Barry glances at you as you watch the two talk business.
"Yeah, well, we don't have much time," Rafe says, his tone serious as he walks over to you and holds out his hand. You look at his hand for a moment before meeting his intense gaze. "Yo, come down here," Rafe says to Barry, jerking his head toward the stairs.
You take Rafe's hand as he leads you toward the stairs, your fingers still interlocked. Barry follows behind, curiosity piqued. "You're not gonna believe this shit," Rafe mutters, his voice low and intense.
As you descend to the bottom deck, Rafe's focus remains unshaken. "You seen any buyers?" he calls out, his mind clearly on the gold. Barry, now settling down on the couch beside you, responds with a chuckle, "It's always business with you, bro. I mean, I don't always live like this." You kick your feet up on the table, relaxing as Rafe heads to the fridge. He rummages through its contents, finally emerging with a few beers and your favorite drink.
"I'm just saying we need to take this shit seriously," Rafe insists, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. He opens your drink with a swift motion and hands it to you, his eyes meeting yours briefly. "Thanks," you reply softly, appreciating the small gesture. Barry observes the interaction with a raised eyebrow, then looks between you and Rafe with a smirk. "What? No princess treatment for me either?" he teases, pouting playfully at Rafe who rolls his eyes, “Get fucked.”
Barry clinks bottles with you after opening his beer, taking a swig and letting out a satisfied sigh. Moments later, Rafe returns, carrying a sleek black briefcase which he places on the table in front of Barry. You quickly adjust your feet as Barry's eyes widen in awe at the contents revealed inside. Your gaze meets Rafe's briefly before you lean forward, curiosity piqued.
"I should get a tooth made out of this, huh?" Barry quips, holding up a gleaming gold bar, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You struggle to suppress a smile. "Look, don't be touching the shit. Just put it back," Rafe commands sternly, shooting Barry a look of irritation.
"Man, you're so paranoid. How do you put up with this shit, y/n?" Barry says, turning to you as he carefully replaces the gold bar. Rafe, exuding impatience, retorts, "I don't care about the cross. I'm trying to make money." He sits beside you, gently shifting your legs so they rest comfortably on his lap.
"I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches," Barry reassures Rafe. Distracted by a sudden splash from the water nearby, you turn your head instinctively. Rafe notices your reaction immediately. "What is it?" he asks, concern threading through his voice. You rise from the couch, taking your sunglasses off as you move towards the edge to peer down at the water.
"Nothin'. Thought I heard something," you shrug, slipping on your sunglasses before returning to the sofa. "The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada!" Barry rambles on, his enthusiasm undeterred. "These gems are mint, man. The gold's bullion. We're selling it in bars, right? I'm not dealing with some half-assed pogue shit with some reject from Zales, bro."
Rafe's voice cuts through Barry's excitement, firm and cold. "Hey, watch how you're speaking about my aunt, dog," Barry retorts, scoffing. Rafe's hands, tense with stress, had already begun their way down your thighs, gripping them unconsciously. It was a telltale sign of his annoyance.
"I'm not talking about your aunt. I'm just saying, I don't fucking trust my shit with pogues," Rafe shrugs dismissively as you absentmindedly play with his rings.
Suddenly, your phone dings with a text message. Rafe leans over, grabbing your phone to hand it to you. Their chatter fades into the background as you focus on the message from your friend.
"Who is it, baby?" Rafe asks, removing his sunglasses as you show him your phone, reading the etext. "Barry, you gotta go, man," he says, watching you rise from the couch and slip off your cover-up.
"What? Why?" Barry protests, glancing between you and Rafe with confusion. Rafe sighs, his patience thinning. "Y/N's having her friends over for a girl’s day on the boat." Barry's eyes dart to you as you smile and nod. "That right? And I wasn't invited?" he says with mock offense, making you laugh.
"Next time, for sure," you assure him, still chuckling. Rafe, eager to get Barry off the boat, pats him on the back. "All right, time for you to go, bro. Good to see ya." "All right, all right, I'm going!" Barry concedes, standing up and making his way to the edge of the boat. "You have fun, Y/N!" he calls out, waving. "Bye, Barry!" you wave back with a smile.
As Barry leaves, Rafe's hands find your hips, fingers playfully tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms. "Rafe!" you exclaim, swatting his hands away and retying the strings. "They'll be here soon." Rafe groans, "Why am I being cockblocked all day today." You smirk up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him in, "Later, I promise."
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whoskimii · 1 month
Text
YEAH, I'M INTO IT !
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★ sleepy domestic sex with him ft. toji ! ★
˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ curse words, p in v, unprotected (don't be silly, wrap your willy :3), he cums in your pussy, implied size difference.
˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1.3k
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“mphm...” toji grumbled as he woke up. as soon as his sleepy, hazy green orbs fluttered open, his first instinct was to tighten the tender but firm hold he had around your soft body.
he nuzzled his nose in your neck, inhaling your comforting, feminine scent. he loved the scent of your conditioner. or maybe it was your shampoo ?
he didn't know.
the only thing he was aware of was the heavenly scent of it. it smelled soft— just like you. if he focused enough, he could even recognize a subtle hint of vanilla.
he slowly let go of your sleeping form, trying his best not to wake you up. he sat up groggily, groaning as he did so before rubbing the back of his head in an almost confused way as he tried to get his bearings.
he braced himself onto his hands, yawning loudly, without even bothering to cover his mouth. “mhm...” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
just as he was about to stretch his sore, achy muscles, he felt something stir behind him.
you.
a few seconds later, he relaxed, tense shoulders slumping as your small, delicate hand rested on his broad back. “toji...” he felt himself take a deep breath as you mumbled his name, as if he was taking in your voice. he could hear how your deep, peaceful slumber affected you by the way you breathed out the syllables.
“yeah ?” he muttered, searching to get rid of the tendrils of sleep that were still clinging to his body. “where are you goin' ?” he didn't know himself but— “probably the kitchen... why ?”
you sat up as well before wrapping your arms around his neck. “stay with me... don't wanna get out of bed.” you mumbled before leaving lazy, small kisses along his jawline. he huffed softly and placed his large hand around your waist. “yeah ? don't wanna get out o' bed, huh ?"
you shook your head a little before laying back down, tugging him with you. he rolled over and climbed on top of you, tucking his head into your neck. “guess i won't let my doll alone, then.” he grumbled against your skin before placing a kiss under your lobe.
you were tired. really tired. you just wanted to go back to sleep in toji's arms but it never turned out the way you wanted.
not with toji.
he hummed before he began rolling his hips into yours. he huffed as he felt you reciprocate the movements, grinding back against him.
toji was only wearing grey sweatpants. he wasn't even wearing boxers underneath as he didn't bother to put some on last night.
the thin fabric of his sweatpants barely stopped his hardening length from rubbing against your clothed heat. it barely even concealed how his cock throbbed under his pants.
you were only wearing panties. he liked that. it wouldn't be a hassle to slide them down your thighs.
“toji...” you breathed out, sliding your hands into his messy hair. he hummed and grabbed one of your hands with his larger one before bringing it to his lips. he allowed his knuckles to brush along your knuckles. “mhm ?” he tilted his head lazily, tracing your lovely features with his eyes.
as he continued to slowly grind against you, he leaned down to plant a kiss at the corner of your rosy lips. “need you...” he chuckled lazily. “yeah ? what d'you want, dollie ?”
you whined softly, too shy to say it out loud. he knew it. he just wanted to tease you. “huh ? c'mon, say it, baby. s'just me.” you sighed, brushing your nose along his jawline. “want you...” you mumbled, despite knowing that he wouldn't tolerate your answer. “nah... what d'you want, dollie ?” he repeated.
you huffed cutely, which earned a small chuckle from your man's lips. “want your cock...” he smirked lazily and hummed. “there you go...” he whispered. “that's what my pretty girl wants, huh ? guess i'll give it to her, then.”
he sat back on his knees and rolled your panties down your thighs, leaving them there. he parted your legs for him and settled in between them before tugging his sweatpants down, freeing his leaky cock. his tip was already spurting precum, the droplets landing onto the sheets. “shit... m'sorry, gonna clean that later.”
he left his sweatpants around his legs, just exposing the essentials. he huffed as he pressed his tip against your warm hole before slowly sliding in. “fuck...” he cursed under his breath. "there we go...” he mumbled as he finally bottomed out.
he slowly laid his weight on top of you, being mindful not to crush you. "you okay ?” he whispered, brushing his lips against your chin as he observed your reaction.
you only hummed lazily. “uh-huh...” you breathed out, your senses becoming hazy as he filled your soft, tight cunnie. he chuckled quietly and pulled back, only leaving the tip inside before pushing all the way in. the friction made you mewl softly.
he let his forehead fall against your shoulder as he began slowly thrusting up your pussy, his movements lazy with sleep. “shit... always forget how tight you are, lil' one...” he murmured into your ear.
the way your sloppy walls were clamping down on his dick made him hiss. “gonna cum sooner than expected if you keep tha' up.”
“toji...” you sighed, wrapping your legs around his hips. he hummed in return, leaning down to press soft kisses on both of your eyelids. “yeah... ain't goin' nowhere, sweet thing.” he reassured you, slowly wrapping his hand around your ankle to keep your leg hooked around him.
you whimpered, trying to close your legs as the sensation became too much.
he was so fucking deep into it.
he placed his hand on your tummy, pressing down onto the bulge created by his huge cock. “nah,” he chuckled at your pitiful attempt. “keep 'em apart, baby.” he was fucking you so good. so good you were almost drooling.
all you could do was thank the stars above for your man and his cock.
“shit, m'close... don't last as long as i used to.” he huffed, tucking his head in your neck. “y'know how insane you drive me with this pussy ?” he whispered but you barely registered his words.
“toji... gonna come...” you murmured, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft tightly. he groaned. “yeah, can tell...” he intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.
his free hand slowly slid down, aiming the spot where your bodies joined. he circled your throbbing little clit lazily to help you finish. “c'mon, flower... clench 'round my cock... make a mess. will clean it wit' my tongue.” your little hole pulsated around his length at the nickname.
you gripped the sheets tightly, hearing your own moans. “m'coming... m'coming, toji... gonna come...” you whispered. he hummed, still playing with your clit. “yeah. m'waiting.”
one— two— three shallow thrusts were enough for you to come. you arched your back as you squeezed his cock, your pretty eyes rolling at the back of your head. “mhm... there you go, sweetie... m'right behind you.”
he groaned. “gonna shoot it in your pussy, you okay wit' that ?” he mumbled. as soon as you nodded, he finally came, painting your walls white. “yeah... aw, fuck.” he sighed, rolling his hips lazily to ride his high.
as soon as you both regained your senses, he rolled off you, not wasting a second to wrap his strong arms around your soft, shaky frame. “thanks, dollie.” he kissed your forehead.
all he could do was thank the stars above for his girl and her pussy.
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based on this ask.
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sweetnans · 1 month
Text
"You are pretty annoying"
"Did you just call me pretty?"
You are delusional if you think that your boyfriend Bakugo would ever hold his thoughts about you, even if they're bad.
You've been in this weird relationship for years where you yap his ear off, and he teases in return. Your friends find it amusing, actually.
Your relationship with him didn't begin in the best terms. In fact, he found you annoying and overly friendly for his liking.
You always found a way to enter in people's lives without being nosy, it wasn't the typical psychology complex when people try so hard to be involve in everyone's lives just because they need to find a solution to help themselves feel good. You genuinely cared about others, and these others found you easy to talk to.
Among other people, you were one of the most popular girls in UA. With your big smile and obnoxious laugh, Bakugo thought you were fake. Always laughing at shitty hair bad jokes, and cluelessly chatting with that monoma prick like he wasn't messing with you to rile you up (which apparently never worked)
One day, he saw you from afar and pretended to walk the other way to not run to your face.
"Hey, Bakugo!" You exclaimed running after him.
He cursed lowly, and his shoulders tensed a little bit.
"Hey"
He didn't want to talk to anyone. It wasn't personal this time.
"What's with that face? You look like Deku said something"
Your statement felt like you left your words hanging, like you were missing some important complement.
Something like...what?
"Huh? What do you mean?" He squinted his eyes at you, finally stopping in his tracks.
"I dunno," you shrugged, losing your characteristics smile. "You always put that face when Deku opens his mouth. It doesn't matter what he says. You always end up like that"
Deku, in fact, said something, but that wasn't the point. The main point was you reading him so well to the end that he'd never said anything to you, but you still knew what happened to him.
That day, he started paying attention to you, too, and he changed his mind about you being fake.
After months of getting to know each other, you two formed something very unique and cliché at the same time. The famous grumpy x sunshine thrope characterized by the angry pomeranian and the chatty girl that everyone liked. The unique part was Bakugo actually getting involved with someone else.
In the present, he still resents, but admires, the way you always develop in big groups, how every room seems to light up the moment you walk in, and of course, how you read him to perfection.
You two have been laying on his bed for the entire noon, and you've been trying for half an hour to make him talk about his friendship with Deku, now that he openly accepted that he is his friend, You've been pushing the man to tell you how he really feels about apologizing and getting him back after chasing him when Deku thought that it was for the best move away.
"For fucks sake, can you stop?" He tells you grabbing your hips and tickling the skin under your shirt.
"I'm just trying to coaxe you to tell me what you really feel. You know it's not healthy for your mind and body to keep your emotions bottled. You are a person, not a ticking bomb waiting to explode. " You try carresing his neck with your fingerpads.
He looks at you from his side of his bed, and his brows get knitted while his nose scrunch a little.
"What?" You ask at his demeanor.
"You are pretty annoying," he says with a gruff voice, moving one of his hands from your hip to the back of your head, entangling his fingers with your hair.
Your smile widens.
"Did you just call me pretty?"
Now you are showing your full smile, teeth, dimples, and all, the whole package. He can't help it. The butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach, and the tip of his ears turns in a pink hue.
"Dumbass," he said, rolling his eyes and flicking your forehead.
God, getting to know you was the best that ever happened to him.
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fxllfaiiry · 1 year
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─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.
✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.
✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!
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Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 
You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 
You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 
Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 
Like today, you got him some coffee. 
"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 
"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 
He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 
"This isn't how I like my coffee." 
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 
"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 
"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 
"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 
"Yeah?" 
"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 
"No."
"Sunflower…"
"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  
"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 
"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 
"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 
But, of course, you were wrong. 
Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 
Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 
If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 
"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 
"I was just tryin-" 
"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 
"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 
"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 
"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 
Don't cry. Don't cry. 
"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 
"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 
"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 
"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 
Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 
"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 
At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 
"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 
"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 
"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.
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