#so tune in later for that maybe lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theetherealbloom · 3 days ago

Text

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋��❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him.

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions.

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home.

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close.

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave.

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

940 notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 1 year ago

Text

A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him.

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject.

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation.

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair.

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid."

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his.

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman fics #spiderman smut #marvel fics #marvel smut

7K notes · View notes

star-sim · 10 months ago

Text

exe.enhaboy_stopped_working.exe ☆ ot7

☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: how to fluster your enhypen boy beyond words! ☆ genre: FLUFFFFF, can be interpreted as established relationship or pining stage lolz ☆ warning(s)? made one (1) chemistry reference, mentions of drinking and throwing up lol ☆ word count: 3k words total ☆ today is lunar new year, year of the dragon. happy new years to anyone that celebrates it, may the spring treat us well! take this as a new year charm.

heeseung ☆ ask him for help

"can you open this for me, hee?"

on it.

"heeseung, can you carry this for me?"

already taking it out of your hands.

"heeseung, how do you do this problem?"

he appreciated that you think he's smart enough to help you with your homework, but truth be told, if you were struggling in this subject, then he'd be drowning.

there's something about the way you look up at him with wide, star-filled eyes, smiling along with your words as you asked him for help.

outwardly, heeseung would shoot you a smirk, maybe even tease you with a, "oh, you need me so bad, don't you?"

but inwardly, he'd be freaking out.

you, the most perfect person in the world, needed his help.

heeseung had always been the baby of his family, and even when he was with his friends, where he was the eldest, he found himself slipping back into the role of being taken care of.

but when it came to you, heeseung was more than eager to be the strong, dependable one.

and you asking him for help meant that you you saw him as reliable, that you could depend on him. it made his chest fill with pride.

but it also made heeseung feel so shy.

did you think of him that highly? he wondered what you thought of him when you asked him to open jars for you. did that mean that you wanted to marry him? you wanted a man that could take care of you right? did that mean that you wanted him?

"hee?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

shit. by the way your bright eyes gazed at him, a small smile playing on your lips, heeseung knew that you could see right through his smug facade. if not the red color of his face, or the way his hands gripped the hem of his shirt like his life depended on it, it was probably the way his eyes widened a fraction in sheer panic as he realized that you were chuckling at his dazed expression.

"y-yes?" perfect save.

you laughed, handing him one of your hard-to-open chip bags. "can you open this for me?"

"of course."

honestly, that hard-to-open chip bag was kind of hard to open, but heeseung would never admit that to you.

"thank you, heeseung," you gave him another one of your bright smiles, as he handed the bag of chips back to you, popping one of the crisps into your mouth. "love you."

then, you left.

you were so pretty.

wow.

wait...

LOVE?!

jay ☆ pull him by the collar

honestly, jay knew that he was being a bit of an asshole right now. he was tired, and so were you, but he tuned you out as you talked to him.

as the two of you stood under the streetlight, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn on, jay's feet ached. after spending an entire day out with you, his good friend, he was exhausted. even if he liked you a lot (a lot), even he couldn't ignore his fatigue.

"jay, are you even listening to me?"

"hm?" did you just say something? he had no idea, getting lost in the blankness of his tired mind.

"i asked you what you..." jay tuned out the rest of your sentence.

when he only nodded blankly, his eyes very clearly unfocused, you let out a huff.

you grabbed the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking him down so that he was eye-level with you.

"i said," you snapped into his ear, your tone annoyed, "what do you want to eat later?"

oh god.

that forced jay awake immediately. if someone dumped a bucket of iced water on him, he still wouldn't be as alert as he was now.

it was a combination of things: the way you gripped his shirt so harshly, the force at which you jerked him down, the way you looked irritated at him, how close your face was to his now... all of it.

jay heard your question, loud and clear, yet he couldn't register it properly, not when you were so close to him. his eyes were wide like saucers, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him. his lips parted, in an attempt to give you an answer, only to let out choked out stutters.

"i— w-well..."

you let out an annoyed sigh. you let go of his shirt, pushing his chest away, as you began walking the intersection, as the stoplight changed.

"whatever," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

jay stood there stunned, under the streetlight as other pedestrians passed by him, watching your retreating back.

he'd always known that he was attracted to you. but this may have been the turning point.

you were rough with him, aggressive even. it made his heart plummet to his stomach.

when he realized that you were a good distance away from him already, jay snapped back into reality. his feet picked up, running after you.

"w-wait!"

jake ☆ run your nails along him + say he's strong

it was a friendly gesture. because you and jake were friends. and you saw him exclusively as a friend. was what jake told himself.

so why did he feel this way?

the two of you were just hanging out, talking about whatever came to mind, when jake randomly brought up the topic of working out. sure, maybe he was glazing himself a little bit when he was talking about how much he had bulked up in the past few months, especially because he wanted (and needed) to look cool in front of you. he didn't know what he was expecting, but you obviously got curious, asking him with owlish eyes if you could feel his arms.

of course he let you.

you started off with his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under your palms. you gave it a squeeze, giggling when jake flexed his bicep for you. in fact, you now got a good look of his entire arm now.

it was veiny and toned, the type where whenever he did anything you could see the muscle bulging from under his skin. you bit the inside of your lip, before you ran your nails along the length of his arm.

"you're so strong, jakey," you mused into his ear, before your hands trailed up to feel his strong shoulders.

jake froze.

his chest swelled with pride, attempting to bite back a proud grin on his face to stay humble about it, but deep down, he knew that he hoped that you'd say that.

but the worst part was the way your hands had felt on him. when you ran your nails against his arm, a warm chill struck through his entire body. it was such a strange feeling. but he liked it. he wanted more.

feeling the tension in his shoulders, you ran your nails on the back of his neck, fingers brushing up against the muscles on his back.

"relax," you said, and he could feel your breath on his skin.

were you doing it on purpose?

jake felt like he was about to evaporate. you were so close to him, and even if your light touches were friendly, it sure didn't feel like it.

it's safe to say that the moment that you put your fingers in his hair, running your nails against his scalp, jake's soul left his body.

sunghoon ☆ show some love to his moles

sunghoon wasn't always a fan of his moles as a kid. kids liked to tease him, pinching his skin in an 'attempt' to take the 'speck of dirt' that was his mole off his face. and when he was young, his mom took him to some korean fortune teller, and the moment the lady looked at his face, she pointed out the mole below his temple. "bad luck," she said. even in high school, his classmates would point to the dark mole under his eye and call it Avogadro's Number, because it was a mole. ha ha, funny enough, but sunghoon would only frown.

"did you know that moles are where you were kissed the most in your past life?" you asked him one day. his head was lying on your lap, something that sunghoon had to fight himself to not freak out over.

it was a quiet afternoon, just the two of you relishing in each other's presence.

"who told you that?" sunghoon asked, his hands scrunching up the hem of his shirt. it made him a little nervous, the mention of his moles. what if you didn't like them? "what evidence do you have for that?"

"have some fun in your life, sunghoon." you brought your finger up to poke the mole under his eye. then, you dragged your finger across his face, to trace the two moles below his temples, then to the mole on the side of his nose. sunghoon let his eyes fall shut under your gentle finger.

"i love your moles, hoon," you finally said after a moment of silence.

sunghoon choked on his spit, jerking up to cough up a lung.

love? his moles? absolutely no way!

"are you okay...?!" you clutched his arm as he choked on his own coughs.

when he was finally done coughing up a storm, sunghoon whipped his head over to you, his expression painted with sheer horror.

"why do you like my moles?!" he asked, his tone laced with what could only be called offense (even if he wasn't actually offended).

you shrugged. "they're cute."

"cute?!"

sunghoon's world was crashing upon his shoulders. in a good way.

you didn't hate his moles? and you thought they were... cute?!

his cheeks flared with heat, while his chest filled with warmth. he swallowed down hard, before opening his mouth to speak, yet he couldn't form any coherent words. what he spent his whole life hating was something that you loved.

his hands were getting clammy.

"why are you so surprised?" you nudged him with your foot. "doesn't everyone love your moles?"

"not really," sunghoon frowned.

you stared at his face, assessing him, before you clicked your tongue. you grabbed his head, gently pulling him back onto your lap.

"they're clearly blind then," you muttered. "your moles make you so cute."

you continued to trace his face, connecting his moles together like they were constellations, completely oblivious to the fact that sunghoon was both completely fried in the head, yet still somehow consciously planning your marriage.

sunoo ☆ take care of him

you and sunoo were just hanging out in your apartment with a few friends, when someone suggested drinking.

and that's how sunoo found himself sitting in a circle, with five or six empty soju bottles in the middle, with the rest of his friends passed out. you were in the kitchen, grabbing a recycling bag for said empty soju bottles.

sunoo was the only one who didn't drink. not even a drop. even when they reassured him that nothing bad would happen, sunoo's resolve stayed. because he had one reason, and one reason only: he said, looked, and did dumb things when he was drunk. even if he had a relatively high alcohol tolerance, sunoo would rather die than run the risk of embarrassing himself in front of you.

you, on the other hand, had a few shots along with your friends, but remained sober.

you came back to where sunoo was, bag in hand. you muttered a small, "hi," at him, before you began collecting the green, glass bottles. sunoo wanted to say hi back, but his voice came out in an embarrassingly small whisper.

"why didn't you drink?" you asked him suddenly, quickly adding when his face pinched, "sorry, i just feel like i've never seen you drink before."

yup, and there was a reason for that.

"it's okay." sunoo only nodded understandingly, hiding his excitement to finally have alone time with you (as if he wouldn't die on the stop right now). "i do dumb things when i'm drunk, y'know?"

you blinked owlishly. "like what?"

sunoo felt awkward. it wasn't like he never spoke to you at all, but just that he felt so intimidated by you and your beauty. how could he not?

though, he couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that seeped into his chest as you brushed stray hairs out of jake's sleeping face, grabbing a pillow off your couch so that heeseung could sleep peacefully on your living room floor.

"i dunno," sunoo shrugged, his eyes fixed on the way you took care of your friends. "last time i drank..."

he trailed off, causing you to turn your head toward him, watching him for an answer.

"... i threw up all over the kitchen," sunoo grimaced at the memory. "it was nasty."

you smiled. "no shame in that. if you threw up all over my kitchen, i would have cleaned it up happily."

sunoo's ears burned. he loved that about you, how you were so willing to help people.

"my roommate wasn't so happy," sunoo frowned. "jungwon yelled at me, even when i got sick the morning after."

you crawled over to him, putting the bottles aside. "well, that's jungwon. i wouldn't mind."

you poked him, nudging him with your foot. "i'd have no problem taking care of you, sunoo."

you met his gaze, your hands reaching out for his, your lips spreading out into a smile.

sunoo flushed.

you? take care of him?

that would be a dream.

he could imagine you ruffling his hair as you tucked him into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you told him good night. the thought of you petting his head, letting him bury his face into your chest after a bad day made him feel dizzy. the idea of being enveloped by your warmth and perfume had him trifling, fighting for his life as more and more thoughts of your tenderness attacked him.

"r-really?"

you squeezed his hand, you other hand coming up to brush his bangs out of his face. "of course."

sunoo was going to die!

jungwon ☆ eye-contact

jungwon knew that you had a bad habit of looking at people's hair or noses instead of their eyes when you talked, he knew it better than anyone because you'd confided in him about how shy some people made you.

he was happy that you trusted him enough to tell him about your troubles.

and he should now be happy that you felt comfortable enough with him to stare straight into his eyes when you talked to him. and he was. but now he felt like he was going to melt.

were eyes always this beautiful? how come he never noticed the way they shined so brightly, the way they creased into thin crescents as you smiled?

"jungwon, are you okay?" you asked, cocking your head as your eyes innocently blinked at him.

jungwon cleared his throat, sucking in a sharp breath. "y-yeah, i am."

you blinked again, your wide eyes filled with a little concern as they stared straight into his. "are you sure?"

"of course..."

and it was then that jungwon was hit with the realization that he was probably one of, if not the only, the people that got to see your eyes like this.

"w-wait, look at me!" he blurted, and your eyes flickered back to his. jungwon winced at his sudden outburst.

you smiled. "what's up?"

"i.. uhm.." jungwon didn't know what to say. he just needed an excuse to look at your eyes. "you.. uh.. you—"

"what about me?"

"you look really pretty today!"

you blinked slowly. in that moment, jungwon saw the way your eyes darted around his face, running away from his eyes as you processed his words.

you didn't meet his gaze when you said, "th-thanks."

no! did he make you uncomfortable? "wait—!"

as you've told him before, when you got shy or nervous, you avoided making eye-contact.

(if he used his critical thinking a little better, jungwon would realize that he, indeed, just made you feel shy. not because he was making you uncomfortable, because he just called you pretty, for goodness's sake!)

riki ☆ be mean to him

riki thought of himself as a fighter, the type of person that never backed down in the face of a challenge. sometimes, he did the exact opposite— he liked to fan the flames, letting the blaze that was his friends' anger rise so high that it burned everything around him, all for a little chuckle and a heightened sense of pride.

but as the two of you sat in class, you (who sat in front of him) sent him a glare, your gaze hardening as it met his, followed by your lips parting to mutter a soft, but venomous, "shut the fuck up," riki's breath caught in his throat.

it was weird and uncomfortable, the way that riki's face began to prickle with heat. his ears burned into a red color. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

at first, he thought he was just embarrassed, embarrassed that someone like you had to reprimand him.

but the more that that scene replayed in his head— the sight of you angry and annoyed at him, as poison laced your sharp tongue— the more he felt queasy inside. you looked so... attractive when you were angry at him. he liked the way your eyes were filled with so much displeasure and dislike for him. it made him feel so small, but it made riki's chest pound.

he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to suppress a frustrated groan. alas, he couldn't keep it in, as riki buried his head in his hands, fighting off the warmth that was bleeding onto his face, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.

your head whipped around to him. your brows crashed together, annoyed and irritated by his loudness.

"i'm serious, riki," you spat, kicking him with your shoe. "shut up."

riki flushed.

all he could do was mutter a soft (and slightly-pathetic), "s-sorry."

1K notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 7 months ago

Note

Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?

Hope you have a nice day

-🌸🦇

BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!

i’m actually really happy with how this turned out

warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read

5.1K words

Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.

Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.

You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.

Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.

It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.

Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.

So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy

Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.

Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.

“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?

“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.

The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.

You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?

It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.

The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.

With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.

You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.

“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”

Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.

You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.

“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.

“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.

“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.

“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.

The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.

Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.

With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.

His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.

Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.

Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.

Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.

Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.

The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #alastor the radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x reader angst #alastor x you

809 notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago

Text

i saw a tweet that said "finals week or my final week? stay tuned" and it was so real so without further ado here is sending spencer reid a tweet while he's away on a case during finals week and him freaking out LOL

------------------------------------------------------------

Finals week is always a nightmare--even more so when your own personal dictionary, encyclopedia, thesaurus, and calculator is out of town on a case. Spencer has been as available as one can be while trying to catch a serial killer in a tiny town with spotty service in New Mexico, so you don't expect him to respond to your text for at least a few hours.

Still, you're smiling as you send the screenshot to him. Sending him any sort of 'Internet humor' is a risky business, because he doesn't always get it, but it's part of what you love about him. He's just so earnest, you can't help but take advantage of it sometimes.

To your immense surprise, he reads it almost immediately. You watch the typing bubble pop up and then disappear, and-- uh oh. His contact photo fills your screen as he calls you.

"Spencer, it was a joke," you laugh, not even bothering to ask what he's calling about.

"I don't think passive suicidal ideation is funny," he says matter-of-factly.

"Oh my god, I'm not actually about to kill myself, Reid."

"Oh, so you're calling me Reid now?" He huffs, obviously exasperated. You laugh at his hushed tone. He probably stepped out of a room at some police station to call you.

"I have to keep you in line somehow," you defend, rolling over onto your back.

"Goodbye."

"No, wait!" you whine. "I'm sorry. Don't go."

You're sure your immediate flip in demeanor is funny to him. His voice suggests a hint of fond amusement when he responds, making you miss him even more.

"I really do have to go. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You are okay, right?"

"I'll live," you sigh, wishing you could keep him on the line longer.

"That's what I like to hear," he says. "I love you. I'm proud of you."

"Love you too."

"I'll call you later."

"Bye." The line goes dead. You flop your phone hand down on the mattress and stare at your laptop with disdain, the blank word document and the stupid blinking cursor mocking you. But still, you feel slightly lighter after speaking with your boyfriend. Maybe it won't be your final week, after all.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

11cupids-tarot11 · 7 months ago

Text

Late night conversations with your future spouse.

1 -> 2

How do guys feel about the name "Love Bugs"? I've been considering calling you guys that, I think it's cute 🥹 I want to do something cool with it in the future- stay tuned guys!

In honor of reaching 100 followers I want to do something special! I want to do a follower's request! So comment down below, message me privately if you want, whichever way you prefer! This will still be a general reading for everyone, but I'm excited to see what cool and unique topics you guys can come up with!

Take care!!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

I'm open for private readings! DM me!

$5.55 per question

C@sh app and PayPal payments only!

Cash tag- $minnieplant3

Tips appreciated!

Love y'all!

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1- Four of coins, The hierophant in reverse, The world, Eight of swords, The sun, Queen of wands, Five of cups.

You guys will talk about the future a lot! You guys will like talking about planning, how to save more or trips, dream vacations. Just your dream life together.

This is a moment when both of you can be in pure silence even and just enjoy each other's company, you both could have busy schedules so making time for each other might be a little rough, but at night time it's y'all little bonding moment basically.

I'm hearing something about not having to really use your brain as much lol. Maybe someone works in a field that requires them to think a lot or it's very mentally challenging or even draining so they get to finally be at rest as well, the conversations will always be light hearted and just lots of laughter and child-like energy here because neither of you really want to take this moment that serious. I'm also seeing you guys could opt for doing other activities instead of talking, like watching a movie and for some of you your person took it to a 18+ level lol.

You guys will really like to talk about how much you want to explore together, where you want to go, I think this person wants to give you the world so you'll be thinking this is just random playful talk but he'll bring it up again when the moment is right to make these dreams and talks come to life!

If you guys have had a bad or gloomy day they'll wanna talk about it so they don't feel so stuck in bad energy, they really don't want to carry it on till the next day so they'd rather talk and get all of the negative things out of the way so you both can sleep peacefully.

You both love talking to each other a lot, about everything and there's no judgement here, you guys could even fall asleep mid way sometimes because I'm seeing you one of you will be so tired (I think it's definitely from a tiring job or schedule, weekday nights will be a lot different than weekend's, weekend will definitely be longer, you guys will talk more or do more activities together because that's y'all's little bonding time! Cute 🥹.

Your person will love hearing about your day! They'll want you to tell them about everything you did. They're definitely the type to ask how your day was, they genuinely care too, they're not asking just to make conversation they'll really want you to go into details! They'll want to emotionally support you through thick and thin.

Random, but someone has a six pack? They might be shirtless a lot too lmao.

You guys will definitely use this as a moment as well to talk about anything within the relationship that you want to work on, I don't think your person appreciates toxicity so they try to eliminate as much as possible, if there is a problem or they've noticed you've been grumpy all day they'll want to discuss in details before bed, this person really hates going to sleep with low vibrations not only for themselves but for the both of you, they think you both deserve a happy good night's sleep! Adorable! 🩵

I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom and I'll see you later! 💖

Pile 2- Four of wands, Ten of cups reversed, Knight of cups, The tower reversed, Three of coins and The wheel of fortune.

So this person is kinda dramatic lol. I think by the end of the day they're really tired and some days aren't able to stay up like they wish. They say they feel like a zombie some days :(

They'll still be very expressive with you, they'll explain this. They don't want you to think they're making up excuses or don't want to spend time with you or anything. I'm seeing this might be part of the late night conversation, they'll tell you exactly how they're feeling and why. This is only for certain days, it will not always be like this energy.

I think your person's kinda flirty though? Like they're keep you laughing for sure, they have a lot of passion and just like to be near you at night! You guys could end up just cuddling and sitting in silence without even realizing you're both falling asleep. It's very comfortable energy, you'll feel so good cuddling up with this person you guys might just forget about the conversation at hand and drift off, freaking adorable!

This person loves how calm everything feels with you at night, everything's peaceful and they can just relax and let loose, sleep to their hearts content. I think this pile just might really like sleeping? There could've been a thing one of you had trouble sleeping before getting together, it could just be your person's energy but take it how it resonates!! But now whoever had trouble sleeping before can sleep so peacefully so it's their favorite thing to do, you guys can't wait to get in bed to get all nice and warm and get a good night's sleep.

Maybe they'll ask you questions about what you did all day, they'll check up on you, use this as a time to get insight on you I'm hearing.

They'll want to tell you about the wacky things that happened to them out of the blue, if something funny, crazy or even slightly out of normal happens they just have to tell you! They'll gossip a lot, tell you everything! Like best friends at a sleepover.

I hope you enjoyed!! Don't forget to do the poll below, see you soon! 💕

#18+ tarot #pac love reading #pac tarot #pick a card #spirituality #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #tarot love reading #tarot messages

579 notes · View notes

bmpmp3 · 4 months ago

Text

And speaking of my playlist making adventures, im like, kind of irrationally scared of making fandom playlists for some reason (although i'll make oc ones and weird themed ones at the drop of a hat) despite the fact that theyre completely private so they're a bit. dire looking.

(a bunch of them used to be way longer but i lost them in an SD card implosion a while back and its been a bit slow-going rebuilding them orz but even accounting for that..... its dire......)

#the ikesen and pw and n7 ones were the longer ones. especially ikesen obvs LOL it used to be like over 70 tunes....#i should really work at remaking them... ive been biking a lot instead of taking the bus or walking #so i havent been able to fuck around with my phone when i listen to the most music orz #maybe i should just go somewhere nice like a park and hang out and listen to tunes........ that would be fun i think....#build playlists.... to listen to on shuffle while biking later LOL #also yeah those last two are pretty new additions. ol being like a year or two ago and me starting the vv one like a few months ago <3

2 notes · View notes

zan0tix · 2 months ago

Text

JAKE AND TRANSFEMININITY: PART 1

IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO TALK ABOUT THIS im gona make a series of posts about jake because. Im crazy and i like writing (will also help me with writing my scripts bc im bad at doing that but im good at yapping on social media lol)

This first post will be about Grandpa Harley because yknow he was the foundation for Jakes text later.

(Take these with a grain of salt bc this is skaianet archive stuff) but Its stated over and over that HIC in both universes Despised Jake because he was a boy and saw him as an annoyance. (The reason he is even named Jake is because HIC just swapped a letter from Jane to make a male name) and this started a pattern of jake being waved off and disregarded.

Already day fucking one as a baby Jake isnt doing gender right😭 his name is a reminder that he isnt what people want him to be.

So he left home and sought off to find adventure at age 13. His shitty home-life already left him with a fraught relationship to his autonomy and control over his life (Again skaianet archives grab that Salt) But he gets groomed and taken advantage of by an older man. I believe this only further Jakes feelings of helplessness and desire to exert power over something.

Grandpa harley would then proceed to try so hard to embody the Old most admirable western masculine archetype to a T. The wealthy globe trotting adventurer/entrepreneur/inventor with female lovers galore and nothing tying him down! A mans man who isnt afraid to get his hands dirty, wrestle a few animals. Wield violence to exert power and control (hunting animals) I see this as his outlet to exert autonomy and establish an Identity for himself but its at the expense of innocent lives. But its how you are seen as successful and powerful living under patriarchy and imperial capitalism.

Though while being this stereotype of old timey masculinity, he has this fascination with a specific brand of femininity. A delicately composed vision, a photoshoot, a performance. Something unachievable.

Its something he brings everywhere he goes. The blue ladies photos and imagery litter both his Hauntswitch house and Jades island house juxtaposing all of his Trophies (taxidermied animals that he obtained through overtly violent masculine means) With his self titled “Beauties/Daughters of Eclectica” (IF THAT ISNT THE MOST OLD GAY MAN THING YOUVE EVER READ. BUT ANYWAY)

Hussie always describes it as “Haha old man jake is horny for blue ladies” but i think the fact he views them as aspirational figures, and holds them in such high regard, Telling Jade that She should aspire to be like them and maybe one day she could take a place amongst them in their elegance and beauty I believe was him projecting; where he believes he isnt able to emulate them because he is a man so he tells jade to instead. (then we see teen jake who is living in more progressive times with his blue lady equivalents and he Directly attempts to Emulate them)

I think theres something more happening here guys nerm..

A. Claire was a Ballerina, A performer of a very traditionally feminine art that is calculated, asking for pin point accuracy with your body as the instrument. The fact he was her “Biggest fan” I assume he went to see alot of her performances and greatly admired her for her beauty and performance skills.

Ive said it before but I dont think he was attracted to her sexually, I think he wished he could be what she was. Embody a finely tuned image of femininity he was barred from ever exploring, so he was drawn to women who could do what he couldnt. And i believe he conflated his gender envy with attraction (teen jake does this too really hard but well get there later) because they didnt have the terms for gender envy or anything back then. Jake grew up in the 1920s. I assume he believed his feelings were average hetero attraction and not something deeper.

I feel like its an elaborate gag that Jake made himself into a straight up Caricature of the burly gruff Adventurer Man. His houses are overflowing with hunting trophies and weaponry like hes over compensating Its insanely comical when you know Really on the inside hes a gay man with a great affection and identification with the effeminate and is actually really loud about it but everyone brushes it off as “Haha what a kooky old geezer!” OBVIOUSLY ALL OF THIS FUNNY. Homestuck is a tragicomedy, everything is simultaneously one huge elaborate gag but also offering commentary on what its pointing and laughing at, in this case its cisheteronormativity (thats the same for an ungodly amount of cases with this work)

I find it tragic, poetic, and endlessly hilarious that his final moments were spent Roleplaying Heterosexuality with a doll He dressed up and put makeup on; made with his image of femininity, and he dies by his own gun, the same kind of weapons that he used to exert violence upon innocent animals in attempt to posture his masculine persona. The ones he arrived to earth with, he was pushed and destined to embody this image of masculinity because of the world he was sent to and the connotations of violence instilled into those weapons by society and reality by Lord English; a being his alt universe self played a great part in shaping. Who too wields a Gun as one of his signature weapons.

Blows smoke off the red hot irony pistols! 😉

PART 2 WILL COME SOON (will add link when it does)

#jake harley #jake english #grandpa harley #homestuck #meta #gender meta 🥹finally doing it.#starting with jake bc hes my Fav Forever but i will do this for all the alpha kids (cherubs included)#zan0tix #daniel talks #but yeah im not good at writing scripts. so im gona make tumblr posts then do a video essay compiling them all and cleaning up the wording #long post

226 notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

IF YOU’RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Uni! Nerd! Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: you’re the new girl at school, and the more steve rogers sees you, the more his crush grows. after a few weeks of texting, a date is set. but he doesn't hook up on the first date, because that's not being a gentleman. right?

Warnings: SMUT, pure filth, praise kink, slight degradation, daddy kink, spanking, cum play, dry humping, dirty talk, manhandling, petnames, swearing, biting/ marking, size kink, but lots of fluff :))

“maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes, im not playing with you baby- i think that you should give it a go. she said, maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes... i wanna see and stop thinking if youre too shy, then let me know”- if youre too shy (let me know), the 1975

“She's so beautiful Buck. You’ll just love her.” Steve insisted, baby blues all wide and excited, cheeks tinted pink as he ran his hands through his blonde locks, tugging on the strands a bit harder than he’d normally- the butterflies plaguing his muscles.

He had never felt so in love, and he hadn't even talked to you in person yet. It was a sickness, the love drunk that had occurred, no amount of Advil or water the cure to the hangover.

Bucky was sick of him. He was sure of it.

He had blabbed about you for weeks now, seeming to go in a daze as he’d ramble on. Mhmm. Well, just talk to her after class Steve!

He’d just shake his head. He couldn't just do that! How could he? You were so alluring, a siren calling him out from sea. Steve just couldn't… the courage he had always had seeming to come to a halt. It was abrupt, a deer in headlights as he watched you walk into the lecture hall.

The new girl. Full of spunk and energy, a bright smile on your face as you looked around the room, meeting his eye. He offered you a small smile, a little wave before you found your place near the front.

You matched his energy well. So well, he was scared you weren't even real. Her name is Y/N. You want her number or something? His friend Natasha had asked him earlier that month, nudging his shoulder to gather his attention again. Sorry. Yes, please. He was too busy daydreaming about you again, gaze drifting off to the endless rows of books in the old library.

Steve had been anxious to send the text, his endless pacing back and forth enough to drive Bucky straight up the wall. He had never seen the man so nervous. Especially over a girl.

Should I do it? What do I say? Is this weird? Shut the fuck up already and send something Rogers you're driving me insane. He had replied, smacking a pillow over his head to tune Steve out. He gathered his wits about him, taking a deep breath before he hit send.

hey, it’s steve, from tuesdays class. not sure if you remember me, but i’m the blonde who waved lol. i got your number from a friend, hope thats okay:)

There. He had done it! Now was the waiting. But it didn’t last long, as his phone buzzed in his pocket only a few minutes later.

hey you! yes yes, i remember. i’m Y/N <3

I know, he wanted to say. Instead, he acted dumb. Dumb and sweet was the way to your heart he found out later, all the sweet messages and daily photos of each other's day blossomed into something more than just classmates.

But he still hadn't talked to you in person yet. And he knew you were too shy to say anything first- so it was just a waiting game. Finally, all these days later- he had asked you on a date.

Nothing major. Nothing fancy. Just coffee, and a walk around the villa. Simple and fun, Bucky had reassured, thankful his best friend had finally made the move. He was blind if he thought you weren't into him. Blind and stupid.

Bucky walked with him now, bundling his jacket tighter around himself as the slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was a cool evening, but not freezing- a perfect happy medium for the season.

“I’m sure she is. Since you never seem to shut up about her.” Bucky teased, resulting in a smack across the arm from Steve.

“I’m serious man. I’m just so anxious about this. What if she actually like.. hates me or something?”

“Impossible. And if anything goes wrong, I’m just three blocks away.” Bucky shrugged, as Steve’s phone buzzed.

five mins away :)

“She’s almost here.” he sighed, starting to fidget with his rings as Bucky dropped him off at the cafe's doors. He had never felt this tense before a date, which he knew meant he really, really liked you. The countless times he had stalked your social media and hours of sleep he lost due to waiting to hear back from you had proved that.

So what could possibly go wrong?

“Well get a table, talk about the weather- and it’ll be all good from there.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And so I told him no, because like what? That's not just something you do at a gas station?” you laughed, making Steve nearly choke on his coffee. You were so happy to be sitting with the man you had been swooning over for weeks now, heart fluttering the second the two of you locked eyes in the lecture hall.

He was dreamy, gush-worthy standards. And now here he was, so many days later- sitting in front of you with a cup of coffee in hand. You had examined his choice of drink very carefully, knowing that could reflect on many things. Just as many other little things did, like if he slept with socks on or if he only picked the m&ms out of trail mix.

Steve had a safe, solid choice- two creams and one sugar. Dark roast. You knew he was a good one.

“I’m sure. Jesus people are crazy.” he snorted, swirling the little wooden stir stick around in his coffee as he admired you. You felt yourself start to fold in on itself the longer he gazed at you, stare so deep and meaningful you were scared you'd start giggling and kicking your feet right there.

You wouldn't be surprised if you did. Steve had that effect on you, always making you swoon from across the class, each text he sent making you smile. He had a heart next to his contact name, for god's sake. But there was no way in hell you'd tell him that. At least not on the first date.

You weren't even sure if he liked you back- as sometimes flirting flew straight over your head. You were funny like that sometimes. But tonight had seemed to have gone well, at least in your mind. The two of you had been talking for hours, getting little pastries and new drinks to try throughout the evening. It was dark out now, the moon high in the sky, shining down on the little vintage cafe with its dozens of tealights and oil lamps.

You sipped your drink, still hot on the tongue as you met his stare. He smiled. That goddamn, cheeky smile that kept you up at night. One that screamed danger, and mischief and everything you wanted. A thrill, an adventure. Something fun- something your small town refused to offer.

“Whatta thinking about?” he asked, breaking the easy silence that lingered over the pair of you like a veil. Like you were in your own little bubble, where no one could touch you.

“Just you. And how you're different.” His eyebrow quirked up. “How so?”

“ Well you haven't asked me to take off my clothes. Or made any sexual comments. Or said ‘maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes’, so I like you.” you said, taking another sip of coffee to let those words digest.

He just smiled, shaking his head slowly. “Well of course not. I mean, not that you aren't beautiful and so fucking hot and I mean-”

You laughed.

“Okay, you know what I’m getting at. But what I’m trying to say is that I’m a gentleman. And I would never ask that of you if you didn’t want it.” A sly grin tugged at your lips, legs crossing under the table as you squeezed your thighs together.

“What if I want it?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t normally do this on the first date ya know.” Steve murmured against your neck, breath hot as he kissed down your neck, grip tightening around your thighs as he hosted you up against the wall.

It had been a few hours later, some odd hour in the night after the coffee and the little walk down the side streets, popping into old bookstores and antique stores where he watched you marvel over little things like signed paperbacks and old purses his great grandma probably had. He was infatuated with you.

Somehow his hand had ended up intertwined with yours, your arm bumping his as he walked you back to your place. Do you… maybe wanna come inside? You had asked, little doe eyes wide, voice as soft as silk. How could he say no? He never said no to you.

Now here he was, dry humping you in your entranceway, barely two steps in the door before your lips had met his. You were drawn to him like a magnet, falling under his spell as your neck rolled back against the plaster, letting him have more access.

“No? Wanting to keep up your gentlemanly acts? Promise I won't tell.” you teased, breath hitching as he traced your collarbone with his nose, finally sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Your hips rolled against his lower abs, desperate for any friction you could get.

“Pinky promise?” he breathed, causing a moan to escape your parted lips as he squeezed your skin, licking the teeth marks as he dipped his mouth even lower.

“P-pinky.” you stuttered. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, movements blurring as if he was switching the lenses on your eyesight. Hands were on your ass, in his hair, tugging on those beautiful long strands to then wrap around his neck.

Teeth clashed with tongue as he devoured you whole, and you felt as if you were on a carnival ride as he spun you over to your bedroom. You prayed he didn’t notice the piles of old, dog-eared books that were piled against the wall so high they were on the verge of toppling over, or your cluttered nightstand with so many candles and jewelry it had no other purpose. Steve didn’t seem to mind the mess, solely focused on how your breath sounded when it was uneven and when you were flustered, the giggles that emerged when he tossed you down on the sheets like a sack of potatoes.

You liked being manhandled by him. You liked how he had wasted no time throwing you up against the wall, taking charge in such a respectful, yet sexy manner. This had only happened in your late-night thoughts, little flirty texts that you had sent when you got the courage past eleven pm nothing compared to this. You had always wondered what he would be like in bed, ever since you stepped foot in that classroom. It didn’t disappoint in the slightest.

“God you're so- so fucking hot. You know how many times I've thought of this? Hearing your little noises when I make you feel good?” You whined. He groaned, tugging off your pants.

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck like that baby. You’re such a good girl for me aren't you?”

There it was. That was the money shot. Something in your demeanor shifted, eyes wide as you nodded frantically. Yes. Yes, you were and he knew it. “Please Steve just-”

“Just what angel face? Hmm? Fuck you?” he antagonized you, as if he was talking to a mere child.

“Please. Please fuck.” The words had barely left your lips before he grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you were presented to him, ass in the air, face deep in the sheets. Your shirt had yet to come off, but you had a feeling it was going to meet your bottoms on the hardwood, the two of you too desperate to both with the flimsy article of clothing.

“God you're so easy to manhandle. You like that huh? Being tossed around like a slut?”

“Mhmmm god yes..” you moaned, letting out a quick yelp as he smacked your ass lightly, your hands curling into tight little fists as you gripped the blankets. You could feel the breath get trapped in your lungs as he kissed the skin he had just slightly marked, lips like a cooling serum to the heat in your belly.

“Breathe angel. Just breathe for me yea? You tell me when it’s too much.”

“What, don’t wanna get too freaky on the first date?” you chriped out, making him laugh.

“Something like that.”

“I like this, ya know. I like you. And I don’t feel shy around you, like I have with other people. You’re good to me, Steve.”

He smiled softly, chest blooming with warmth at your reassuring words. He was so happy. All he wanted was for you to feel comfortable around him, to feel wanted. Because he wanted you. Oh, gods did he ever want you.

“Good.” was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. “Fuck. Fuck fuck you feel so fucking good.” was all he could moan, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed around him, adjusting to his size.

He was big. Like extremely big. All you could do was whimper, praying to every god that was out there that you could take him.

“S’big Stevie. M’all full.” you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words. “Yea baby? I’m just so much bigger than you- aren't I? Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use.”

He brushed your g-spot as his hips began to snap, cock drilling into you so fast you swore you saw stars. All you could do was hold onto the bed, allowing your body to fall limp, going slack as he used you.

“You're so good. Such a good, good princess.” he praised, large hand pressed down slightly on your back as you arched, moans muffling into the sheets. You prayed your neighbors weren't home, or else you knew you'd get the dirty looks and silent treatment tomorrow.

Totally worth it, you thought with a dazed-out smile, listening to the sounds of the bed drilling against the wall, springs squeaking in time with his groans, the squelching wet noises of your juices coating his cock.

“M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly. “S’okay baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me okay poppet?”

You nodded, rumpled sheets bunching tighter between your closed fists as you squeezed him so tight it was suffocating, your clit pulsing a steady rhythm as you came with a cry.

“Atta girl. Milking me dry baby, you really needed that didn’t you?”

“Y-yea Daddy..”

Heat rose to your cheeks. The name had rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, the filter that normally was placed over your words now gone in your dazed-out state. What if you fucked up? That wasn't supposed to come out.

“F-fuck. Daddy huh? I should've known you’d like that shit. Not as much as me though baby.” he growled, grabbing your hips harshly, his thrusts becoming harder, quicker, more erratic.

“Daddy’s making you feel so good hm?”

“So good Daddy. Want you to fuck me alll the timee.” you giggled softly, whining as you felt him slip out of your abused hole.

“Wha-”

“Shhh poppet. I didn’t bring any condoms with me and we aren't risking it on the first date.” he shushed you, spilling his seed onto your lower back, stilling your wiggling movements as you begged.

You felt the warm, white liquid ooze against your skin, dribbling down your ass as you wiggled it. The pad of Steve's fingers made you jump, the soft, gentle touch adding even more to the post-orgasm haze.

“I-I have some in my drawer for next time.” He trailed his fingers against the delicate skin, smearing the cum down your thighs, giving you a quick little smack.

“Good to know sweetheart.” he smiled, watching as you slowly turned to face him, doe eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

“So when’s the next date?”

4K notes · View notes