#take a shot every time i say 'but'

[ireneaesthetic]

Simon and Marcus: Simon's pov

I've been requested to do it once and i've actually things to point out. I’m gonna focus on a specific scene, using it as a cue to dive more into their dynamic from simon's pov.

for whoever not interested, i swear the next analysis post will be wilmon centered - love y’all

Relevant fact: call me a marcus anti since day one. I found it kind of weird for him to act so friendly, self-confident and at ease even from their very first interaction in simon’s room, but maybe it’s just my shy closeted self talking!

However, the movie scene is probably the most significant one, showing a lot - if not all - about simon’s approach and intention in 'whatevership' he and marcus were starting to have. He walks into the apartment right after him, eyes wondering all over the room, his “cozy” word to warm the atmosphere, the looks and little smiles: he mirrors wille’s actions when he first entered simon’s room, recreating the same scenario. He tries to fill that space with the same thrill, energy, emotions - love.

It’s a nice try, but not even close to work. He forces himself to be flustered and feel what he knows this type of situation should make him feel. Pretending gets harder if memories are louder and the heart doesn’t beat as much as it did before.

Simon's eyes never lied: the truth is he was always sure about what he was not feeling, the chemistry he tried to find so soon so fast but that, just as quickly, was not pushing him to ask, want or need more ever again. He looked at marcus but never really looked at him: there were no such feelings for simon to communicate, rather vacant eyes and empty gazes that still showed things he was missing and couldn't seem to replicate with him.

The 'let's get physical' coping mechanism to step up the game is real but still: simon suggests watching a horror movie, he's the one taking the initiative, he goes for the upper lip into the kiss. He wants so hard to forget about wilhelm while unconsciously doing whatever it takes to remember him. to have what they had back. to feel something.

But with marcus it turns out to be just ... physical. it's all very rational: no connection or tension building up between them, no growing emotions are involved in pulling them closer, even simon’s hands movements feel thought through.

Falling in love doesn’t have to be rational tho, it comes to you so that you’re not supposed to search for it to happen - oh to be reminded that simon ends up not ever being the first in reaching for physical touch or pulling marcus into a kiss after this one. single. time.

Marcus telling him to take it slow and see where time will take them, it didn’t stir anything in simon but discomfort. He didn’t go to his place looking out for the comfort of a movie night fr or hoping to start something serious, but to prove himself that he was ready to forget and move on, to be with someone else, to love and stop hurting for once - he soon realized he could not do that.

And when he said it out loud to marcus later on, he was not listened to.

Simon’s “i just don't understand why i can’t fall in love with him” finds all the answers here: it was never about marcus, but shutting his feelings for wille down whenever they weighed too much instead. That's the reason why i think they were doomed from the very beginning: as much as simon could be rationally invested in trying to make it work, his heart was not.

Wilhelm’s step back - “i’m gonna leave you alone” - was simon’s realization point. He tried moving on to someone else for his own sake and also wanted to show he was capable of doing that, but to actually loose wille was never an option and he didn't mean it to end this way. It was like being faced with a choice, even though to choose was never really a thing: simon would've chosen wilhelm. always.

[rius-cave]

i’m in love with ur adamsapple art!! i keep imagining a scenario where luci grabs adam by the horns and the demon isn’t used to them having actual sensation instead of being a piece of his mask 👁️

..........Oh.

[zhukzucraft]

watching Zedaph's/Tango's latest episode be like:

uncensored version under cut

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 9

Wc. 7.7k

Miguel waits in his car, his gaze not fixated on anything specific; simply forward. He rests his forearm on the car door, window down. The thick hairs of his arm raise as his mind ventures, replaying the past few hours in his mind. A low hum stirs against his chest. There’s a sort of glow he emulates as he sits there idly, smizing at nothing in particular. He probably looks like a total creep with how he’s grinning in his car, alone, looking off into space. No passenger. You've sat there for the past few months, from campus to your place, and vice versa. But today, you aren’t there, yet he’s happy. His heartbeat intensifies, his stomach contracting once or twice due to unfiltered chuckles. As he waits patiently in the car, he lets it consume him, the memory of that morning, and he closes his eyes.

“Okay, what do you think?” you reach your arms out as if to present a prize, and the winner is Miguel. Miguel, who looks uncomfortable in your too-small-for-him lounge chair but shows no sign of strain on his face, fixes his glasses and observes with love-sickened eyes. After a simple, romantic breakfast at his place, he insisted on taking you back home so that you could get ready. Then after dropping you off, you figured he might as well stay so he can take you to the ceremony, too.

“Is it too much?” You give a little twirl.

His eyes scan thoroughly scan you. “Jesus… How’d I get so lucky?” The question sounds genuine, as if needing an actual answer. “You’re beautiful, mama.”

This makes you smile in return. You look to the mirror to see if Miguel is right (obviously, he is), running your hands over your pre-planned graduation outfit. Today, you receive your hard-earned Master’s Degree, and even though throughout the year you were convinced you wouldn’t be, you’re feeling more nervous than ever. “Picked it myself.” Your voice wavers just a hint. Has two years really gone by so fast? More specifically, the second year of your grad. The first one felt like eons. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t score an Adonis of a professor that year.

Miguel stands from his chair and comes from behind, his hands snaking through the gap between your arms and waist, holding you tightly against his plush exterior, “I just wish I was the one who got it for you.” and a kiss is pressed to your temple. His grasp seemed to soothe your nerves a bit, your body sinking into his natural warmth and plush. You can see his face through the mirror, the absence of doubt and judgment in his expression making you fall all over again. You really were a lucky girl. He looks at you with such reverence. And maybe a touch of arousal. Those aren’t his keys you feel on your backside.

“Oh, stop. You’ve given me more than enough, Miguel. All I need is you.” With his chin resting on the top of your head, you reach to cup his face, a picture-perfect moment displayed on the full-length mirror. He whispers into your ear, “Giving you lessons doesn’t count, that’s just my job. te voy a dar el mundo, mi Vida.”

“Right, right, and I’m guessing giving me that necklace was a part of your job description?”

You win a rich, dark chuckle from him, but he ignores you, still sprinkling kisses on your skin, his bifocals bending out of place at times. You giggle and even try to break away, but he doesn’t budge. You fight the urge to kiss back just to spite him.

“Or that skirt? Or those shoes? Or that one purse? Damn, how much does the school pay you?”

And before you can further argue, he presses more kisses onto you, almost sending both of you to topple over. “Just let me spoil you, mama.” He speaks against your jaw.

“Miguel!” the gravel chuckle of his voice continues to rumble against the side of your neck. You can’t complain and never will, but the difference between Miguel now versus the Miguel you met still leaves you baffled to this day. Or it isn’t much of a difference or change, really, but rather an unmasking. This Miguel was just stowed away until further notice; placed in the backest corner of the freezer to never see the light of day. This is the person Miguel was dying to show, he just needed the right person to coax it out of him. Now you have him attacking you with wet kisses in the middle of your living room, his hulking arms locked around you with no chance at an escape.

“Right, enough fooling around and help me into this, will you!” Reluctantly, he’ll let you move your hair for better access to the still-open zipper of your outfit.

“Fine. On one condition.”

Sigh. “Yes?”

“Un besito.”

“Oh my God.”

“Take it or leave it. Last offer. Don’t make me make it two.”

“Given there’s no one else around to zip me up, I guess I have no choice. Just my luck.” you joke, eagerly leaning your head back against his chest, granting his kiss entry to your neck, your chin, and then lastly, your lip. And then one kiss turned to multiple. If you weren’t so completely lost in his tongue and lips, you’d notice his hand rested and wrapped around your neck. The minor callouses provided a sensation that only added to the fervor of the exchange. Once y’all finally pull away, low eyes traveling in triangles, he politely requests, “Step forward for me.”

You move forward slightly so as to give him space to zip you up. But before he can do the job, he takes a second to look over the details of your back, a part of your body his hands have gotten to know very well, but his eyes haven’t gotten the same pleasure of. Miguel was very good at respecting your boundaries and wishes, which meant a lot (a lot) of making out, but nothing further than that. He notes to himself how soft it looks, the hills and curves of your spine creating a Grecian masterpiece.

And you can practically feel his eyes roam every inch of exposed skin, making you feel like art. You think to say something, but you’d rather let Miguel have this moment, and you let yourself have it, too. You’d often think about what it’d be like to see Miguel’s reaction to you. All of you. He’s made you feel nothing but like a deity for the duration of your budding, unlabeled relationship, and you’ve been fully clothed at all times. You can only imagine how he’ll act when you’re completely bare.

You know for sure he loves you. He said so. And he’s shown it to you. You’ve decided that being that vulnerable with him is something you want, it’s only a matter of when.

You start to hear the friction of the tab pulling the teeth together, one by one, that’s how slow Miguel was going. Unable to resist the urge, he stops the zipper and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the back of what’s left of your exposed neck. “I could do this every day, you know?” he admits softly, like a hymn. You turn, not completely, just so that your face is to him, “‘Everyday’? For how long?” You know the answer, kind of, but there’s still curiosity in what he’ll say. There are so many instances where you wait for Miguel to say the wrong thing; to do something that’ll break this spell, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t have the capacity to. He’s perfect in your eyes.

“For however long you’ll have me. Which I’m really hoping is forever or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.”

Damn, he said the right thing. People can say his stab at humor is mediocre all they want, but Miguel never ceases to make you snicker. If you opened an Oxford Dictionary to ‘adorable’, it’d have his picture.

“Who am I kidding, you could absolutely humiliate me and I’d still say ‘thank you’.”

“Oh, this’ll make some good blackmail.” you finally turn around to tauntingly wave your index finger at his amused expression.

“Oye, Final exam grades aren’t due ‘til next month, so I’d be careful if I were you.” his brow perks when he says ‘you’, and your only response is a sarcastic ‘Oooooo’ before you’re muffled by the millionth kiss of the day, but who’s counting?

“There. Secured. Anything else, princesa?”

You take a deep breath, getting in one last overall look in the mirror before facing him, “Okay, yeah, I’m ready. Just need my chauffeur.” You look over at Miguel, who looks back at you confused, then looks around knowing fully well there’s no one else except the two of you.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Ha ha ha. Very Funny. If expressions could talk, this is what yours would’ve said.

Miguel smiles, taking your hand to kiss the back of it, and rubs your knuckles with his thumb as an apology. “Your chariot awaits, your majesty.”

Wait, where is he going?

“Mig, stadium’s that way.” your thumb points toward the window next to you, the street that leads to the graduation growing farther and farther.

Despite that a mistake has obviously been made, Miguel looks indifferent, eyes aimed straight at the road before them with no sign of a doubt. He huffs from his nose before responding, “I know,” his thumb runs across the back of your hand, “I have something for you, though.” He takes your hand up to his lips, a smile creeping up on your features.

“At your office?”

“Accidentally left it there.”

What is he up to?

His crooked smile tells you a different story. Miguel can feel you questioning him. You can see him physically gather his words in the driver's seat.

“Remember when… we were in the library one of those first nights and we exchanged books?”

You nod. How could you forget?

“And I told you about Gabriella?”

You nod again. He’s asking obvious questions here, it’s sort of scaring you.

“That was my first time talking about her with someone. In years.” His chest and belly deflate as if releasing a weight he’s held onto, “And you’re also the first person who’s said her name out loud. Someone other than me. In a very long time.”

You listen intently, everything that has happened up until now making more sense with this piece of information. You always knew the painful fact that Miguel has been by himself mostly since starting teaching, but it stings even more knowing that he’s never opened up to anyone about this. No one to turn to. No one to be soft with. Sure, he had his friends, from what you remember him telling you about his hero, multi-dimension, whatever-it-was days, but to your understanding, they all left him alone. By means of Miguel’s requests. He wanted those days to be over completely.

“She was beginning to feel like- I don’t know. Like a figment of my imagination. Photos and videos that I rewatch and stare at every single day were starting to… go stale,” this admission makes him wince in shame, “I replay them over and over again… and nothing new. I know what happens in each and every single one of them. And it ends up hurting every single time. I didn’t know how much more I could’ve taken before stopping altogether.” His lips purse, the guilt seeping from every inch of him. “Well, at some point, I even became afraid. Terrified that I was starting to forget the little things about her, or worse, that I’d move on,”

You didn’t even notice, but the car had been parked minutes ago, it’s only when he turns his face to look at you, eyes beginning to gloss, when you realize the car had stopped.

“Until that night.” His narrow gaze softens.

“The night at the library… I told you things that I hadn’t even thought about until that night. Like, for example, how she liked to match the color of her hair ties to her shirt,” Miguel allows himself to softly beam with this memory, “or whenever I’d fall asleep on the couch, she’d always, always, place a blanket on my feet so that ‘the monsters don’t get me’,” you both giggle at this, “Like those things? They had just come back to me in that moment.”

You both had entered campus grounds and turned to his office door, and he whipped out his keys, the metal hitting against the doorknob. The halls are quiet and hollow. It feels like the end of an academic year.

“I just never thought I could possibly let those things slip.” His voice lowers, an air of disbelief in his words.

“Will you ever stop loving her?”

“Of course not. Never.”

“Then she will live on forever. You’ve proven to yourself that you’ll never let the small things leave. They’ll always come back to you.”

Miguel smiles to himself, thinking about this.

He heads toward his bookshelf, reaching for something, but you can’t see given that he himself blocks the entire view of it. “When I hear you say her name,” you see his head bow down at something in his hand, “You sound so… lively... If that makes sense? Like… as if she were still here, as if you knew her. It meant a lot to me. Even in the way you talked about her. Maybe it explains why I was able to recall so much.”

He turns around to you, and you can only make out something small in his hand; something blue?

“I figured that, if she were still here, she’d want you to have this.”

He unfurls his hand and out blossoms a satin blue ribbon formed in a rosette; the words ‘first place’ are displayed in the center. “Wear it today?” He stands before you, the dwarfed ribbon sitting in his hand. His request sounds more like a plea.

“Her teammates gave it to her when she scored their winning goal. She was so happy. It was her last game before she-” Both gazes leave the ribbon and land on each other, glossed and daring to well.

He clears his throat, “She used to- used to show it off any chance she could,” His eyes well up, but regardless of presuming tears, he looks down at the ribbon with a soft smile.

“Miguel,” Your head slowly shakes from side to side, “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he persists, “Take it, it’s yours.” He insists through choked words. He places the ribbon in your hand, folding your fingers in, hoping that you’ll accept his gift.

Here stands a man you’ve been falling so hard for for the past year, who is not only giving you a piece of his late daughter’s life, but insisting you take it. You haven’t been around enough to know what love is, but with what Miguel is doing right now, you’re starting to think maybe this is what it might look like. When you started seeing Miguel, who was your professor, you didn’t think all those thoughts of him being yours would ever have come true. You knew it was silly, childish, and most importantly, out of the question. Yet here he is, giving you a piece of himself. This isn’t casual anymore. So he did really mean those three sacred words said last night and this morning.

After letting the ribbon sit there for just seconds but what feels like minutes, you take his hand back, but the ribbon is now pressed between you and Miguel’s palms. You give it a tight squeeze, taking in a deep breath. “It’s ours.”

You look up at him, a trail of a tear down your cheek. “Because I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” a bright smile grows behind your wet eyes. “And I’m really hoping it’s forever, or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.” You actually laugh, and so does he, pooling eyes and all.

“You’re stuck with me. I love you.”

With those words, it was like the past five years of being alone became all worth it. All the lonely nights, all the predictive mornings, and the dune of a civilian life he was leading came crashing down on him because he knew a new one was dawning. Still civilian, but now, he has someone to put all the love he has to offer into. All his fears, all his insecurities, it all dissolved. The label of your relationship was blurry, uncertain if this was the kind of thing you entertained for only a bit and never spoke of again or something worthwhile. If last night wasn’t a confirmation of the answer, then this moment was, marking it as the official beginning of a romantic, exclusive, official relationship.

“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te quiero. I love you. I love you… I love you…” his soft declarations are muffled in kisses on any spot he could get to. All those fantasies he’s conjured in his mind where you two live together, share a life, make a life… or two… or three… or however many you’re willing to carry, he doesn’t care, all of those scenarios now seem like promises. Like a nearby reality. Solitary nights dreaming about you in ways that leave him hot and bothered will finally come to an end. On a more suggestive note, He’ll finally be able to get through class without raging hard-ons again.

“I love you.” You manage to breathe out between kisses. Arms wrap around the back, hands wrap around the neck, fingers rake through tussles of hair, and legs begin to lose balance and find their way to the edge of Miguel’s desk. Visions become blurred, ears begin to grow hot, and heart rates quicken with beats large enough to feel on each other’s chests. You two are much too deep in it that you don’t hear the creaking of the wood underneath you. “Yes. Please.” Miguel hears your whisper, moving his head to look you in the eye. “You mean…?” He asks gently, to which you nod, repeating your plea. Without much thinking, Miguel taps your thigh. This was it. Miguel didn’t hear you say the exact words, but he knew. He knew what you were saying yes to. You, much less thinking, instinctively raise your leg, allowing Miguel to prop you onto the desk. “I love you. So much, it’s crazy, Miguel. God, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” You mewl in his ear, and in return, Miguel, with softly knitted brows, lets out a pathetic groan. Miguel may be quiet in everyday life, but when it came to the two of you, alone, he wasn’t afraid of being vocal about what he liked, and right now, with what you’re saying plus your legs wrapping securely around his waist seemed to have both an audible and physical effect on him. A big physical effect.

Is this the right spot to do this right now? Couldn’t y’all get in trouble? Was this even a good time?

These are questions that a sane person would probably think of, but with the current circumstances, you simply couldn’t give a damn, let alone Miguel. Even if you tried, you don’t think you would’ve even had enough brain wattage to string a single thought with Miguel touching you like this. However, if you had the luxury of logic, you’d know that:

1. Getting in trouble isn’t of concern since faculty are either at home starting the Summer they’ve been so impatiently waiting for, and students are at home doing the same or at the stadium.

2. Given that the ceremony won’t start until another 2 hours from now, it’ll give you both plenty of time. The traffic would’ve been dreadful anyway, so might as well just show up at the last minute.

3. What better place than here… where you two met.

You breathe heavily along with Miguel, “Remember… the first meeting… I sat right in front of this desk,” Miguel makes an effort to listen, but he’s currently too occupied with straining his hard-on against your heat, “Mm-oh…now look at us.” your breathless voice and coquettish smirk goes straight to Miguel’s cock, the feeling of his pants shrinking in size making him hot all over. Trapping your lips between his over and over again. You're pretty much without oxygen at this point, but you don’t care, it feels amazing. His teeth on your lips, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass deeper against his length. Your fingers tugged onto his now disheveled curls and he whined. He whined.

“Mama, you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve imagined this moment. Fuck, am I dreaming again?” His words hit your skin like the thick air after a calm rain.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him from your neck, and you’re met with a lust-drunken, devoted worshipper; a big man that’s been stricken of sex for far too long. In doing so, you notice the ribbon still in your hand, which knocks a bit of sobriety back into you. It’s almost like Miguel read your mind because the same alarm goes off in his head. With that, the two of you are quick to mend one tiny problem.

Miguel, still between your legs, reaches over to lower any pictures he has of Gabriella, faced down on the shelf. As for you, you stash the ribbon safely in a drawer right behind you. Gabriella shouldn’t be present for this.

Capturing you in a kiss again, your hand ends up untucking his shirt, resting on his stomach, your fingers caressing his skin. He huffs, slightly tickled by your soft touch along his belly. The corner of his lip curves into a dorky smirk as you sneak your hand into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, pushing past his dark happy trail. “Oh fuck. Haven’t been touched like this in so long,” The clank of his belt buckle rings in your ears, making you pulsate, “I need you. So fucking badly.”

“Keep talking. Please.” You murmur, unbuttoning his shirt, unveiling a plethora of chest hair covering a body fit to raise your future children.

“So lonely, honey… miss you every night when I come home. Miss you so much in the mornings, it hurts.”

Once his shirt is on the floor, with hands and eyes, you revel in all his glory: six feet and nine inches of caramel deliciousness, coated in equal parts of muscle and fluff. You could come undone just from this sight.

His hand holds your chin with a soft caress of his thumb, “I used to look a lot better back then. I’ll work on it.”

You pull him down by his neck to eye level in protest. “Don’t you dare change a single thing on this body. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Oh, that made his dick twitch. Your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders while the other is in his hair, smashing faces. Miguel, with no hesitation, swipes everything off the desk and instantly pushes you onto your back, his soft husky exterior pressing you against the cold wood. Tongues are down throats. He stutters as his dick twitches, “Tell me I can eat you out.” The question and tone of voice alone make your back arch. You kiss even deeper, tongues intertwining as he moans in your mouth.

“God, yes, please, Mig, please-”

He gives a vicious squeeze to your ass, reminding you of his pure strength, “That’s not what I want. Usa tus palabras, mamita.” Your begging makes his cock ache, but he needs to hear the words. He needs to know you want this as much as he does. He needs your permission.

Your top lip curls before you speak again through hooded eyes, “Professor,” the name catches him off guard, “please… fuck me with your mouth.”

You were playing a dangerous game. Before you was a sexually deprived middle-aged man who’d been silently pining for you since day one, and you were begging him to treat your cunt like a 5-star meal. Having a gorgeous girl like you pleading for him to tongue fuck you like you deserved, it was driving him crazy. He wasted no time going down to the most sacred corner of this divine body.

“Funny… I zipped this up not even half an hour ago.”

“Hey, hey, careful, I still have a ceremony to wear this to.”

You had a point. And as if you were a gift, he bunches the fabric high enough to reveal some panties he’d recently given you. If it wasn’t for him wanting to last for both hours until the ceremony, he would’ve came right then and there. He looks at you with darkened eyes, a gaze intense enough to strip the cockiness from you, your cheeks growing hot from the act, “What? I assumed this was gonna happen later-”

Miguel cuts your sentence short with a French kiss to your clit through the thin lace, the combination of his nose, tongue, and breath on your heat making your thighs shake. “ So wet… you always this wet during class? Fuck.” With how Miguel was moaning and groaning against your sensitive skin, you’d assume he got more pleasure in giving you head than you did receiving it. Your hand darts for his scalp, the other holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life once he hooks the panty with his finger to move it out of the way, pursuing even more thirstily now. The wood creaks with each buck of your hips, but with the way Miguel’s arms hold your weight on his wide shoulders effortlessly, it doesn’t phase you. Breathless prayers of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the table. You can feel the bundle in your core form as your whimpers turn to wails.

“Mig, s’good, feels so good. I’m close, pleasepleaseplease-”

Meanwhile, his eyes were practically to the back of his head, hips pathetically bucking to the matching rhythm of your hips as he took turns treating your clit like a lollipop and your entrance like a fleshlight. “M’gonna- aw fuck… voy a cuidarte, mamita, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” you hear through a whine before his tongue is back at it again. His hands take turns squeezing your thighs tighter around his head and occasionally using his forefingers to stimulate your sensitive bud. His glasses start to fog, and his eyes are covered by humid lenses. This was starting to obscure his perfect view of you and your euphoric expressions, and he just couldn’t have that. So, he pulled away for only a millisecond just to basically rip them off and he was right back to devouring your weeping cunt. There’s no way he was missing this.

You’re choked whines signify the peak, your body trembling uncontrollably. This will be the first of many, and he’s only getting started. When the man promises to take care of you, he’s gonna take care of you.

He spends the remainder of your climax lovingly rubbing his fingers up and down your pussy, making sure you ride it out all the way to the very end.

“Good, baby? You okay?” he purs back into your ear, tenderly caressing your thighs and planting gentle kisses of reassurance on your face. You nod with half-lidded eyes, catching your breath before replying ‘yes’.

“Tell me what you want, mama.”

“Fuck me, professor. Please?”

“Say that again.”

You look at him above you, your legs pulling his waist closer so that his aching length meets your pulsing core, “Please, I want you to fuck me, professor.” Whilst maintaining eye contact, Miguel reaches down to put your hand on the bulge. “Look what you do to me.” Your theory of his size is confirmed.

“This what you wanted?”

“Need it.”

“C’mere.”

Miguel sits you up, telling you to relax since ‘he’ll do all the work’. He carries you to his office couch. He plops onto the cushions with you straddled on his lap. While he has your tongue entwined with his, he releases his cock from the restraints of his boxers, the base erects against his lower belly. Not wanting to waste another second, although the view of it was mesmerizing, you sit up on your knees to line yourself up with him, but Miguel sits you back down, “No hay prisa, mamita, need to get you ready, but first,” His hand snakes to the back of the zipper, and the dress unveils, “Need to see all of you, beautiful.” you seem to knock the air out of him as he lets his hands explore you, your breasts the perfect hand full. “You’re so fucking hot.” He even looks up for a moment and thanks God for blessing him with someone like you, making you look down at the endearing gesture.

Your body goes limp once he laps at your chest, sucking and pulling like it was his first meal in ages. The feeling of his tongue circulating your hardened buds made you clench around nothing. He has you in a bear hug, front sides pressed against each other. The small room seems to disappear around the two of you, totally forgetting where you are, in both space and time. It’s just you, Miguel, and the beautiful sounds of pure, raw pleasure.

“Mig, wanna make you feel good, too.”

Miguel unwillingly pulls away, only half-hearing what you said, and not given even a chance to process. You’ve already positioned yourself on your hands and knees next to him on the couch. Kitten licks and tender sucks to the tip send Miguel’s head falling against the back of the couch. You know he’s needing more when his hips buck upward, and you’re more than willing to give it to him. Occasionally, you’d rest your head against his stomach chub to give him a few rewarding strokes, admiring his size, just to let it sink back into your hollowed mouth. You managed to get Miguel growling, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips as you tend to his stiffened cock that you’ve daydreamed of tasting.

“Baby, please, slow down, not gonna last long.” But it was no use. You were relentless on his aching manhood. The only way to get you to go easy on him was to reach over your ass and pump his fingers into you, so that’s exactly what he did. You whine with his tip in the back of your throat, but you’re able to still keep him in. To Miguel’s hopes, you do slow down, the mutual pleasure putting both of you in sync.

“Let’s come together, mamita, hm? Can I put another one in, baby?”

He takes your eye contact as a cue to put in a third, thick finger, eliciting a high-pitched moan against his veiny shaft. Having both ends of you completely filled was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming, but it’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt. There’s no one else you would’ve rathered have you like this than your Mig.

His fingers get faster, and your strength to keep his cock inside is dwindling, but for him, you try, nonetheless.

“That’s it, mamita, that’s it…” His fingers are unbelievably fast at the point, droplets sent flying and falling onto the fabric of the couch. That’s something he’ll worry about later, but right now, his goal was to get you absolutely fucked out and coming all over his hand. Unable to hold it anymore, you free him from your mouth, letting yourself cry and whine freely as he finger fucks your second orgasm out of you. Still determined to have him come with you, you pump him with your hand as you ride off your high on his hand. Miguel wants to praise you, but his panting and mewling get in the way. You had this gentle giant making what would be considered embarrassing noises, but symphonic music to your ears. At the first sign of his juices, you place him back into your mouth, but this time, he holds your hair and fucks up into your mouth in short, fast, desperate thrusts until he’s finished.

You don’t even let him have a moment to breathe once you start kissing up his happy trail and to his stomach; what once was a pack of abs has given way to pudge. You kiss a little higher, giving his pec a gentle lick where it’s most sensitive, making him sharply inhale as a result. They proceed to the valley of his pecs, up his neck, to his jaw, and cheek. If Miguel still had doubts in the back of his mind about your love for his body, they’ve vanished now.

Your lips meet now, and various soft ‘I love you’s’ are exchanged.

“Just want you to sit back n’ relax now, mami. Wanna see that gorgeous face,” Holding onto your head and lower back, he carefully lays you on the couch, “Can I?” The gentle dominance this man radiated was good enough to make you already contemplate marriage. The expression on his face reflected utter devotion and praise. You thought his kind were only written in books.

“Of course, professor. Gotta repay you for all those private sessions.” Even after two orgasms, you still had to keep the cliche going. Miguel was unable to help a small chuckle. He had no problem playing right along, though. “You made it so hard to focus in class, you know that?” His voice is dark and low, a stark contrast to the noises he was making just a minute ago. He speaks while spreading your legs like precious artifacts, lining himself up. Finally.

“Sitting there all gorgeous n’ smart. Drove me insane.” He whispers into your ear, his leaking tip making a connection to your entrance. “And then having the audacity to help your classmates? How dare you have a heart just as beautiful.” He kisses you while sliding inside, muffling your gasp.

He tuts against your mouth, “Yo se, bebita, me too…mmnnshit,” His hand caresses your hair in an effort to soothe at least some tension, “I’ll go slow, mama, m’kay? Gonna take care of y- oh fuck,” His forehead presses against yours, his free hand holding onto yours as he slowly slides in and out, gauging how deep you can take him. The stretch induces a euphoric pain, causing you to squeeze his hand, but he squeezes right back, your cunt sucking him in all too well.

Miguel starts to go stupid once he’s halfway in. The sensation has him beginning to babble, choked words coming out in a gentle lull.“Que rico…Feel good, mamita? It’s okay mama, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you.” He talks delicately as he continues to go in and slowly draw out with only half of himself, just to be sure you're warmed up enough for all of him. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on breathing, but it only makes it more difficult. It worries Miguel. “Too much, baby? I’ll stop.” And just as he’s about to pull out, you use your other hand that was clinging onto the arm of the chair to stop him, “Nonono, please,” He lowers himself, still connected, “Need you, Mig. Please, keep going, don’t stop.” You beg, the undeniable need in your voice making Miguel go weak. He puts all his weight on you, cautiously going all the way inside. When he gets as deep as he possibly can, his tip kissing you right in the perfect spot, he pecks your forehead before telling you, “You look so pretty taking it, beba.”

Miguel’s words are slurred as he begins fucking you, thick fingers playing at your clit as he does. He can’t help but prop himself on his elbow just to get a look of himself going in and out of you, the slick sounds and what looks like a bulge of his cock sending him into insanity, driving him to go desperately faster. He gets lost in the way every time he pumps in, he creates a hill in your stomach. You look down, too, seeing what he’s seeing, and it only makes his name fall from your mouth embarrassingly loud, as well as telling him how good he feels and how much you love him, every syllable coming out with pure verity.

Not now since you’re too busy getting amazingly fucked, but later on, you’ll surely think about how good of stamina Miguel has for his age. He should’ve been tired by now, but the man was rutting and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon. When his mouth wasn’t latched onto yours, he’d speak nonsense to you. He’d let out long, exasperated ‘Yes’s’ into your ear, unafraid to let his unfiltered noises fill the room. When he knew he was being too rough, he’d slow his thrusts until he was dragging his dick in and out of you, pumping ever so slowly and lovingly. It was then he’d be able to coherently form sweet words of nothings, “I’m obsessed with you. Wanna keep you like this forever.”

Whether he was going rabid or making sweet love, Miguel still made sure to hold your hand through it all.

He can feel himself coming soon. As if he needed to be deeper into you, he only stops for a nanosecond to bring your knees over you, pressing you even deeper into the couch, so as to better ram your already abused pussy. Your panting heightens in pitch. “Right there, sweetheart? Aww Fuck, there it is.” His big, strong hands hold your knees in place where they frame your head. Your bodies are sweaty, only enhancing the lewd sounds of his hips smacking your ass with each thrust. When your pussy flutters around him, it makes his eyes roll back. He’s already made you orgasm twice by now, getting his juices all over you, but he needs more. “I can’t stop.” He stammers through a slack jaw.

“Mig…dunno if I c-can… going-”

He slows down his rhythm, hands cupping your face to make eye contact, “Baby, please, gimme one more, just one more. Promise.”

With a nod of your head, he buries you in his arms, his face in your neck, body on body, leaving no space between you, and he rams into you like no tomorrow, luring one last orgasm from you. The way the curve of his belly and muscles rubbed against you was the icing on the cake. You feel Miguel getting closer with the way he moans into the crook of your neck. You are, too.

The dam breaks loose with an outcry of his name, to which Miguel lifts his head to kiss your tears as you peak, his own following right behind. Once it starts to descend, a rain of butterfly kisses fall on your face, “I’ve got you, sweetie,” he coos, “I love you so much… mamita,” he gently calls to get your attention, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You at least accomplish a weak smile, requiting the love with a kiss to his swollen lips.

There was no need to rush, so the two of you just lay there, embracing each other.

“Miguel,”

“Hm?” He hums against your skin.

“I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”

“Me too.”

6:49 PM.

You don’t know how, but in one hour, Miguel and you were able to go back to your place, shower (separately. You two knew a joint shower would’ve most definitely led to other things.), redo your makeup, fix your and Miguel’s hair, and leave to the stadium with moderate traffic. You look in the passenger seat mirror for the last touch-ups.

“Praying I don’t trip on that stage. If I do, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll happily take the blame.” He gives your thigh a small squeeze, in which you glare at him in return. The shit-eating grin on his face still made you smile, though.

You sit in your assigned seat among a sea of students, dawning the traditional cap and gown, with numerous achieved stoles and ropes around your neck, but only one stands out from them all, and one that you consider your best achievement: Gabriella’s Blue Ribbon.

You look down at it, giving it a little tug to straighten it out. You look up to search for Miguel in the enormous mass of seats, but it isn’t too hard. All you had to do was find the freakishly tall man with glasses, and when you do, you smile at him. As subtly as possible, he mouths ‘I love you’, and you do it back. You think to blow him a kiss, but given the situation, you also think it better not to in public. You still don’t have that degree in your hand, and you can’t risk anything, especially not when you’re so close. But trust, the second that piece of paper is in your hand, Miguel is all yours, no shame attached.

You’re on the edge of your seat the entirety of waiting for your name to be called, and once it is, you feel you could cry. You walk across the stage, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment filling you to the brim. Miguel watches on, a prideful expression on his face. You shake hands with a few faculty members, some you grew to love and will cherish, some you secretly wished would accidentally fall through a manhole, before you get to the dean, who currently holds your degree in their hand. You’re congratulated once it’s in your hand, the feeling of two very difficult years weighing down on your hand. It feels good. Smiling ear-to-ear, you look out into the audience as you walk across, degree facing outward for the whole stadium to see because one thing for sure is that everyone in the establishment will know that you did that. Your smile shines like a thousand stars, at least to Miguel. His heart could explode with how much love and awe he feels for you. Heaven knows he tried to make a new life for himself by putting the Spider-Man title to rest, and though he was successful, he was still missing a piece of himself. In this moment, he’s thanking you for taking a chance on him; for letting a different man, a happy man, come out for a while, and hopefully, for the rest of his life.

And that’s where he sits now, in the car, waiting for you in the parking lot. Prior to the ceremony, it was agreed that Miguel would slip away just a couple of minutes early (basically skip the dean’s farewell speech) so that you and Miguel could beat the crowds and go celebrate wherever he had planned for you. Hoards of crying mothers and cheering students catch his attention. It must’ve ended. It only takes a moment for him to pick you out from the crowd, immediately exiting the car to open the passenger door for you.

“Congratulations, mi vida.” He calls out, leaning against the car.

Elated, you crash into him, arms around his neck, legs lifted in the air, and you kiss him. You pull away with a joyous mwah.

You both retreat into the car. “You helped, my cute lil geneticist.” Giddiness beams from your voice. You reach over the center console to cup his chin and squeeze it, puckering his lips to kiss him again and again. This makes him chuckle. He may be older and bigger in every sense of the word, but at the end of the day, he is and always will be your dork. Your teddy bear.

“I just taught you a few formulas. This was all you, mama,” he starts the car but glances at you for a second. “What?” You tilt your head.

“I wanna thank you.”

“For what?” Every time Miguel opens his mouth, you’re reminded of what a lottery win you’ve made. You grab his hand to hold it up to your heart; the same spot where Gabriella’s ribbon is pinned.

“For loving me. The way you do.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me.”

His brows furrowed, his lips curled into a soft smile. He notices the blue ribbon. He caresses one of its tails, and a few of his heartstrings pull at the sight. He knows that if Gabriella were there, she would’ve been the loudest in the stands. “Wish she could’ve been here.”

You press his hand against your heart.

“She is.”

Miguel has told you so much about her that at this point, she feels like yours, and you feel that she’s there. You know with your whole heart that she is.

You both share one more tender kiss before Miguel pulls out of the lot.

“Well, it’s official. I am no longer your student. How do you feel about that?” you smirk, relaxed in your assigned seat; your rightful throne as passenger princess.

“Speaking of which, I hope you know that that degree is for decoration purposes from this day forward.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re quite the comedian today, huh?”

“You think I’m kidding? I want you home 24/7, you hear me? In the kitchen, an apron and all. I’m dead serious.” The sarcastic tone in his voice sends you chuckling through the nose.

“I’ll stay home and be your housewife if you give me a perfect score, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Ok, no, but seriously, baby, please score my paper accurately.”

“Of course, beba. Just jokes. I’m kidding about the staying-home thing, too. You can do whatever you want,” He looks over at you at a red light, “Just as long as you always come back home to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You two snuggle in Miguel’s bed after a nice dinner celebrating you. The sheets are warm and soft, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth and softness of Miguel’s body on yours; skin to skin. You’re both entangled and nude, having just had another (or a few) rounds of passionate love. Sleep looms over both you and Miguel, a little heavier on you. You’re quickly learning that Miguel does not have the endurance of an average man.

Knowing how much you loved his speaking voice, he decided to finish and read aloud to you Pride and Prejudice, a book you recommended to him and has become a new favorite of his. A king of aftercare. How more perfect can he be?

Miguel, seeing your eyes grow heavy, kisses your temple and smiles before starting again, “ ‘I love you. You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.’” He recites the notorious line written by Austen, but not for the sake of reading aloud anymore, no. This line was directed to you. And only for you.

“And I love you.” You whisper back.

And for the first time in much more than just 5 years, Miguel didn’t have to go to bed alone. And he won’t have to ever again.

Miguel hasn’t thought about the canon theory in a very, very long time, but a fleeting thought went through his mind before drifting away:

If going through everything that he had to, may it be the day his genetic makeup was altered, the spider-verse, Gabriella, trading in the suit for a life of solitude, everything; Despite the pain, if it all had to happen in order to have met you.

Then it’ll all have been worth it.

<3 Tags <3

@mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni @shaquilles-0atmeal @nina-from-317 @exoticb-utters @sugurusyndrome @aphinthestars

A/N: Fav chapter I've ever written. It was made with love <3 Really hoped you guys enjoyed it <3 n thnx sm for sticking around even if I made y'all wait so long 😭 love youuuuuuuu‼️ MWAH!!!

[timblrdrake]

have you informed your dad about the pregnancy?

there is no pregnancy to inform him about.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Love watching Ally Beardsley who played Brennan Lee Mulligan on Gamechanger and flirted with irl Brennan Lee Mulligan as Brennan Lee Mulligan via “me and my wife saw you across the bar and really liked your vibe” flirting in character with a character played by Izzy Roland who is Brennan Lee Mulligans wife in front of Brennan Lee Mulligan

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Chat have we discussed drunk chess with cherik cause i just think. That would be the darnedest silliest thing they could do

[bragginball-z]

Every time Dean says “I need you” to Cas gay people all around the world feel a stab of yearning in their hearts that echolocates them right back to tumblr

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[r0-boat]

Mirror Mirror (part 2)

Whb!Lucifer x reader x Obeyme!Lucifer part 2

Across the Demonverse lol

A lot of yapping before sex lol

Let me know if you guys want more of this AU...

Link to part 1

Cw: biting, spit roasting, degrading

You weren't unconscious, But you weren't registering what was going on either cradled in the arms of somebody. You wake up in familiar silk sheets. The sense of lilies and vanilla suggests that You made it home too Paradise Lost.

You smile to yourself as you shifting in your bed eyes still closed. Beginning to drift off once again.

It must have been a dream, at least It felt like one. A deep voice calling your name breaks you out of those blissful thoughts.

"what's going on with them? They almost passed out. Better yet what's going on here?"

You felt cold metal press on your shirt as you felt a hand on your forehead.

"I am just as confused as you are. I have heard of God creating multiple worlds not just this one but I have never seen it for myself."

"So it is true. You are me?"

The voices began to get clearer and clearer as you began to stir more.

"I don't lie. I have no reason to. You felt it too, didn't you?"

"How could I not? Despite our physical differences, I felt like I was looking in a mirror."

The blurry figures finally turn to you as he begins to gain consciousness. They call your name at the same time as they get closer.

Feeling a gloved hand caress your cheek, you lean into it before realizing who it belongs to. Your eyes met with red ones and his familiar black hair. Instantly realizing that no, this is not a dream, You flinched.

"Lucifer!?"

"Yes child of Adam?"

You heard a voice from in front of you. Your heart sank as you looked at him.

The other one.

"no not you- why are you here?"

"I live here?" He stated calmly, raising his eyebrow

"no not-" The other Lucifer rolled his eyes He shook your hand a little getting your attention.

"That's what I would like to know I followed you through the portal you created... When and where did you learn that magic And who taught it to you?" His face got more stern with each question he asked. You were going to open your mouth to say something until you felt all that weakness hit you at once your body shakes as you struggle to catch your breath. He felt your body weakening as he leaned closer

That's when Lucifer sat up walking toward you. "In this world Hell's air is poisonous," He stated

He had no time to bring equipment He had to use magic as he pressed his hand against your chest it's not as accurate to humans as giving you a physical exam but he had no time.

"mh. It seems there's also something else, It was small before but now I can't ignore it... It seems like Hell's Poison but it's different."

Lucifer knew a little bit of what His mirror self was saying It was one of the many questions he asked.

"So the Devildom is killing them?"

"More like she's not used to it. And I can also sense They are over exerting themselves" Lucifer rambled and his mirror half speaks up his eyes staring at the artifact.

"They are using magic that isn't theirs..."

"Will they be okay?"

His face scrunched up, seeing the normally calm collected Lucifer look like this made you worry.

"usually when they're feeling like this we just give them our energy. But I'm afraid it might not be enough."

Not knowing what might happen to you, Lucifer's heart squeezes You are very important to him more than you know, and more than he's willing to admit. He failed to protect you before, He will not let you die again "I'll do it, I'll do anything"

Lucifer smiled relieved that his other self was just us protective of you as he was. "All right take your clothes off."

You coughed as you almost laughed your ass off You tried to stifle yourself as Lucifer went silent.

"excuse me?" In his tone of voice and the look on his face He looked as if someone was playing a prank on him but Lucifer as bold into the point as ever just explained.

"We have to fuck them to give them devil's energy, since you're in this world and since you do have magic you should have devil's energy-"

Lucifer just interrupted him "No shut up! I get it..." This was all too real to be some sick prank made by Satan and belphegor, Plus they would never go out of their way to harm me like this so this is real as much as he does not like this.

His eyes widen as he saw his mirror self immediately getting into bed He didn't strip his clothes yet but he tenses when his lips fall upon yours. You whimper but immediately leaned into it as if you knew this, As if you expected this.

Lucifer knows that it's still another side of him but still it feels so wrong to see another demon touching you.

Red eyes met shining ones Lucifer knows that look, it's holding back, it's hesitation. Lucifer has an inkling of why This one is holding back They are pride, As much as he doesn't like to share he knows that your safety is a top priority. And he knew just how to encourage him a little bit.

All devils cannot resist temptation, All devils cannot resist competition. So he pulls your limp body away from him pulling you into his arms His fangs graze against your shoulder his hand placed upon where he found Lucifer's pact mark on your body.

"mine." He hisses. And he watched as Lucifer's pupils began to shrink into slits. Hearing you whimper as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder finally made Lucifer act. He let out a low grow, getting into bed with you, pressing his body against your back. You felt a gloved hand possessively grip your thigh. His breath tickles your ear.

"How long have you been doing this? Getting dicked down behind my back? I thought you were just this innocent human turns out you are just a slut."

Lucifer chuckled at his mirror half's words. "You have no idea."

Lucifer clicked his tongue you felt his hand gently caressed the back of your head before grabbing and pulling you back He growls. "I think you should be punished for going behind our backs to be a whore."

You felt the hand from the demon in front of you slide beneath your pants, His hand cupping between your legs, applying pressure.

"I like the sound of that." Lucifer Licks your neck, trying to find the perfect spot to bite down while sleeping off his coat. The other Lucifer does the same with his.

"please! I need it! I want you both! Please Lucif-!" A hand smacks your thigh hard cutting off your sentence with a whimper.

"Sinners like you don't get to call beings like us by name You will use sir." He hisses before finally sinking his teeth into your neck.

'Sinner?' huh... Has a nice ring to it that term he'll be stealing that.

The two demons break away from you as Lucifer orders you to get on your hands and knees. As much as they want to take their time with you, you have no time.

So focused on the pleasure you're about to get and how your throat squeezes as you struggle to breathe. You didn't know who was behind or in front of you. All you heard was belts unbuckling and the shifting of the bed. Until you felt that unmistakable leather against your ass as someone groped it and forced it apart to get better access to his prize. You squealed, grinding your ass against whoever treated you like a toy to be played with.

While you felt someone's soft hand run into your hair and caress your cheek, he treated you gently as his thumb played with your bottom lip but encouraged you to open it. You kept your eyes closed until you heard a voice. "Look at me. Let me see those eyes when we both enter you." You had no choice but to obey. You didn't even want to know what would happen if you chose to be bratty now when two demons of Pride looked so horny and impatient. The moment you looked up ahead of his dick pressed against your lips; You didn't have time to process, only felt your walls squeeze down on a cock slamming inside of you. Lucifer had waited long enough for you to adjust. He needed your mouth to open right now.

"Open your mouth, Sweet thing."

You hesitated for 2 seconds before you felt a harshest slap on your ass. "He said open your fucking mouth!" Lucifer growled. Ending his sentence with a harsh thrust of his hips. Immediately you opened your mouth wide with your tongue out for the Lucifer in front of you, and he slowly slid his dick into your mouth

The two demons whisper praises at your ability to take both as they slowly begin to move well. The one in front, at least, was treating you more gently. As the Lucifer behind you was already fucking you so hard, you were bouncing forward and swallowing Lucifer deeper.

It was all too much, The huge cock down your throat and the other cock slamming hard and deep inside you. You felt yourself being overwhelmed with pleasure and pain your body began to shake as they practically used you like a fleshlight. One Lucifer was enough to make you cry, but two of them? Tears are streaming down your face. Your throat is tightening as you try so hard to keep your composure.

Seeing your pleasure being overrun to the point of tears, Lucifer seemed to have changed his gentler tone as he began to grab your hair and fuck your throat. But what surprised you is how the Lucifer behind your pace began to falter, drilling your poor hole recklessly. He wanted more, and he wanted you to fall apart until you're nothing. His other self was so lucky to see you cry; oh, how he adored when those pretty little tears fell down your face when you're so overwhelmed with pleasure you can't take it.

His hand wrapping between your legs to touch you.

They fucked you through your orgasm as you squeezed and milked them. Lucifer wiped your tears only to lick his fingers clean.

They weren't even close to being satisfied and you could do nothing about it but take it.

Take it as they use you how they pleased.

Take it as their claws dig into your skin marking you as theirs.

Take it as they bombard you with both praise and demands.

Take it as you feel come shoot down your throat and deep inside you.

Your limp when they finally pulled out of you, you felt arms around you. You're not sure from who. As you were already so exhausted you couldn't stay awake. Someone was holding you His gentle hand petting you to soothe your slumber as you bury your nose deep in his chest is familiar scent lulling you to sleep before being tucked into bed.

Lucifer watched You snuggle with his jacket. He couldn't help but smile, but that smile soon faltered, remembering what his mirror self had said to him.

This was your original world... Your home. He had so many questions, but Lucifer couldn't answer any of them.

As if on queue, He felt his presence behind him.

"I can't let them go. You understand that, right?"

"I understand. I'd feel the same way you do."

"if there is one of you that, there must be others... What do we do with them? What do we tell them?"

"if I tell my 'colleagues there'll be no certain, it will just lead to more trouble. We have a lot going on as is."

Lucifer's sighed pinched his nose's bridge because he was in the same boat...

"I don't think it's their fault," Lucifer spoke up

He just shook his head. No of course not, there was someone else...

"I think I think I know who might know something."

The other Lucifer didn't answer. Instead, he was slipping off the artifact while you slept peacefully.

Harnessing it's magic he conjured a portal back to his own world. Before throwing it for Lucifer to catch.

"Will you keep in touch?"

He looks back at his mirror self. He gives him a nod before stepping through. "How could I not after knowing what exists?"

[getyinyusedtoit]

that brief passage during the banyue arc where the book is like "the two became immersed in a serious discussion on stars and the night sky" is so important to me because how many times over the past centuries have they looked up at the stars separately and made individual wishes from the bottom of their hearts and now they're standing together beneath the stars, bonding over their shared knowledge like they've been doing this forever.

[thehotpilot]

what a relationship might and could look like could also just mean that buck is learning what a relationship with a man looks like for the first time..every lasting couple on the show has had their moment of what does this look like going forward, and what if it doesn’t? i personally think it’s a good indicator that a lot of thought is going into the relationship from a storytelling perspective, and whatever end will be treated with care for buck (and tommy)

[interstate35south]

"through spark and flame, I got your back" galo your line was "in sickness and in health, I do"

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Heyy! I hope you have a nice day :)

So it's my first time requesting something and im a bit embarrassed about my kink. So my kink is spanking so maybe poly hanmy x fem reader x kisaki where the reader has also a spanking kink but is too shy to tell them so on a random day she ask them to talk but cant really find the words and just maybe grab a hairbrush and lays themself over kisakis lap and gives him the hairbrush but hanma knew what she wanned and make her say it like "oh honey what do ya want hmm~~" and than kisaki start spanking her until her ass is deep red. (aftercare ofc with a bath and putting cream on her sore ass) 🫶

HanKisa x Shy!Reader w/ Spanking Kink

♡ NSFW, fem reader, reader wears a skirt, Hanma is a tease, lowkey service dom!Kisaki, this happens in your living room if you even care lol, spanking with a hair brush (plastic or wood, it's not specified), husbands!HanKisa, pet names (bunny, darling), fluffy aftercare ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷 love me some HanKisa 😮‍💨

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Some things were hard to put into words, so you decided to not say anything and let your actions speak for you. And that would've worked fine, if your husbands weren't absolute tools sometimes. As you laid across Kisaki's lap and handed him your hairbrush, he had a perplexed look on his face.

"What's the matter darling? Need something?"

All you could do was nod shyly, thinking that he'd pick up on what you wanted. But he was honestly twice as confused as before.

"Do you need me to brush your hair? Why do I need a brush?...Am I supposed to be brushing my hair? Shuji's hair?"

Per usual, Kisaki was overthinking things. He tended to do this a lot, but it was a good thing that Hanma was around to figure out your little game of charades. He let out a deep chuckle at the scene in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. He knew exactly what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it first.

"Aww bunny, what d'ya need from us, huh? Be a big girl and use your words."

You could feel your face heating up as you mumbled an incoherent sentence.

"Speak up darling, we can't hear you."

"I..I want you to spank me.."

Hanma's face lit up, his smirk growing wide as he looked at the brush in Kisaki's hand.

"Well Kisaki, go on. Give bunny what she wants ♡"

Kisaki pulled your skirt up and gripped the brush handle tighter before bringing the flat back of the brush down on your behind, the loud smacks of the brush hitting your skin echoing in the room. Your skin was a deep shade of red by the time he was done, your ass sore and aching.

"Aww, you did so good for us bunny, pretty ass is so red~"

Hanma's hand glided gently over the curve of your ass, making sure not to put too much pressure on it.

"You did real good darling," Kisaki sits his hand on your back, running his thumb over your spine. "Shuji, go run our pretty wife a bath."

Hanma nods and makes his way to the bathroom, running you a nice warm bath and pouring some bubble bath into the water along with some essential oils. He comes back into the living room and lifts you up from Kisaki's lap, carefully carrying you into the bathroom and sitting you in the tub. The two of them spent the rest of the night pampering you, smothering you in kisses and soft touches. As you laid between the both of them, they took turns massaging your ass until you fell asleep, feeling extra grateful for you and your little kink.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

“How can I describe him? I have seen him twenty times and each time he was a different person; even he himself said to me on one occasion: “I no longer know who I am. I cannot recognize myself in the mirror.” Certainly, he was a great actor, and possessed a marvellous faculty for disguising himself. Without the slightest effort, he could adopt the voice, gestures, and mannerisms of another person.”

~The Arrest of Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc

Moments of calm Nothing left to be found A mirror right in front of me That's where I find An empty glass Reflecting the sad truth It's telling words not to be told I need the mask I'm a shape-shifter at Poe's masquerade Hiding both face and mind, all free for you to draw I'm a shape-shifter chained down to my core Please don't take off my mask, my place to hide

~Beneath the Mask from Persona 5

“‘Why,’ said he, ‘why should I retain a definite form and feature? Why not avoid the danger of a personality that is ever the same? My actions will serve to identify me… So much the better if no one can ever say with absolute certainty: There is Arsène Lupin! The essential point is that the public may be able to refer to my work and say, without fear of mistake: Arsène Lupin did that!’”

~The Arrest of Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc

[timblrdrake]

I thought Brucie Wayne was Gotham's favorite nepo baby? Did he like pass you the title or something?

well he is but as his son i absorbed the title- i’m gothams favourite nepo baby’s nepo baby which makes me twice as powerful

i’m your favourite nepo baby’s favourite nepo baby