#the way i wanted to add more but had to hold myself back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 10 months

Text

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

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yourmidnightlover · 7 months

Text

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents.

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place.

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely.

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be.

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite.

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady.

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light.

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much.

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life.

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together.

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door.

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe.

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight.

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting.

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls.

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile.

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline.

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun.

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting.

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you.

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway.

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men.

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips.

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates.

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned.

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes.

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with.

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often.

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip.

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be.

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband.

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins.

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away.

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you?

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this.

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think.

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted.

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly.

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.”

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident.

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth.

and then there was a knock at the door.

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting.

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements.

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft.

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was.

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.”

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you.

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing…

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed.

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point.

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.

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saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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worldlxvlys · 5 months

Text

control

dealer! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, cream pie, cursing, oral (male + fem receiving), 69, drug use

summary: the effects of the weed that you and chris were smoking made you horny enough, but add his recent insta pictures into the mix ? any sense of self-control you had left your body and suddenly, all you could focus on was making him a trembling, whiny mess under you.

a/n: idea credits to my love @hearts4chriss <33

everything was hazy.

my red eyes drooped ever so lightly, eventually fluttering closed as i took a hit from the joint that chris and i were sharing.

the smoke floated around in the air while we spoke about whatever came to our minds, giving each other our full attention.

well, i was paying attention, just not to his words. i wanted to listen to what he had to say, but i couldn’t help but find myself fixating on everything else.

the way his tongue darted out every now and then, wetting his dried lips.

his cheeks, which were lightly dusted with a rosey tint to match the color of his lips.

his hair, strands messily sticking out in every direction, only adding to how good he looked.

the veins in his hand protruded from his skin as he dug into the ice cream he brought over for us, causing me to clear my throat as i attempted to regain my composure.

i watched as he shoveled the sweet dessert into his mouth, just before the half-melted treat could spill anywhere.

“and i was gonna ask you which pictures you think i should post today, but i ended up picking-”

"wait, you posted?” i asked, grabbing my phone from its place beside me on the bed.

my eyes widened slightly when i saw the pictures, he looked so good.

he always looked good, but these pictures in particular turned me on a little more than they should have.

“you’re joking, right ?” i asked, the words flying out of my mouth before i could stop them.

“what?” he asked confused.

the weed seemed to have taken any self-control that remained in my body, as i immediately straddled chris’s lap.

“you didn’t think you were gonna be able to post those pictures without getting your brains fucked out, did you?”

he stared up at me, mouth hanging open while his hands held onto my waist.

“i mean, i don’t-” his mouth opened and closed like a fish, while a jumbled mess of words fell from his mouth.

i hooked my fingers onto the waistband of his shorts, effectively shutting him up as he squirmed in anticipation.

i moved from my place on top of him, situating myself on my knees between his legs.

i pulled the fabric down slightly to reveal his happy trail, immediately adorning the newly exposed skin with kisses.

he let out a low whine at the feeling, hips bucking up into my face.

i quickly pushed his hips down, holding him steady as i ran my tongue along his skin.

“fuck” he sighed out, eyes falling shut as he swallowed harshly.

i could tell that the weed was affecting him, his sensitivity to my touch growing with every movement.

“lift” i told him as he followed my instructions, raising his hips while i pulled his shorts down.

i brought my hand to his clothed dick, which pressed against his boxers angrily.

i pressed a kiss to his crotch, eliciting a low whine from him.

“what do you want, chris?” i asked as i began to palm him.

“need your mouth” he moaned out.

“lay back, take off your boxers” i told him, watching as he eagerly did what i said.

when he was laid fully naked on the bed, i stripped for him.

i joined him on the bed, sitting behind him with my chest pressed to his back.

i wrapped my arms around his waist, my hand finding its way to his dick.

"i- fuck- i said my mouth” he groaned out as i collected the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip in my hand.

“you’ll get my mouth” i spoke as i squeezed his base, his hips jerking up in response, “when i feel like it”

he remained silent after that, only moans and whines leaving his mouth as i continued to move my hand up and down his length.

“does it feel good, chris?” i asked, whispering into his ear while i nibbled the lobe.

“fuck, yes. please don’t stop” he groaned, thrusting his hips up into my hand.

“tell me when you’re close, baby” i spoke before beginning to take the skin of his neck between my lips, sucking harshly.

i littered his neck with dark bruises while he continued to fuck himself against my hand.

“so eager, my love. but if you want to cum, you’ll have to slow down” i told him.

“n-no, please ! i need to cum so bad” he spoke, his pace remaining the same.

“chris. slow down” i spoke again, causing the pace of his hips to slow against my hand.

“there you go, is it so hard to listen?” i asked as he let out a groan.

“fuck” he whispered out as his veiny cock moved against my hand slowly.

“i’m close” he spoke, his breathing picking up.

before he was able to let go, however, i moved my hand away.

“shit” he whined as his cock twitched, but he was left unsatisfied.

“you don’t get to finish that easily, baby. you gotta work for it” i spoke, chuckling as he went to move his hand towards his dick.

i quickly grabbed his hand before he got the chance to touch himself, “keep your hands behind your back. i swear to god, if you move them i’ll tie your ass up” i spoke into his ear.

he did as i said, but never acknowledged that he heard me. i turned his face to look at me, tilting my head at him, “you got that?”

“yes” he whispered as he stared at my lips.

i wrapped my hand around his neck, bringing his face up to mine to pull him into a heated kiss.

he moaned into my lips, while our lips molded together.

“you ok?” i asked him, noticing the dazed look on his face.

“you’re such a freak” he smirked up to me.

“and you’re such a submissive bitch” i answered, letting go of his face and moving my hand back down to his length.

i circled my thumb around his tip, pushing it against the slit, making his hips jolt up into my hand.

“such a tease” he mumbled under his breath.

in one swift motion, i moved to his side and pulled his shoulders back to lay down.

i moved so that each of my legs were on either side of his body.

“you obviously need some help in shutting the hell up” i spoke before moving to sit on his face.

chris immediately hooked his hands around my thighs, working my pussy with his tongue.

i leaned forward, taking his dick into my hand and swirling my tongue around his tip.

he groaned into me, the vibrations intensifying my pleasure.

i moaned against him in response, making his noises increase in volume.

i took as much of him as i could, using my hand to stroke the parts of his member that my mouth couldn’t reach.

he pulled my lower body harder against his mouth, his tongue focusing on my clit while his nose nudged against my needy hole.

i focused on his tip, teasing it as much as i could with my tongue, causing him to push his hips up in need.

i could tell he was getting close, so i removed my mouth from him with an audible pop.

he let out a whine of disappointment, his hands loosening around my thighs.

“you wanna cum so bad? fine.” i spoke as i moved down his body, making my way between his legs.

he sat upright, watching wordlessly as i turned around to face him.

he stared up at me with his mouth hung open while i aligned him with my entrance, sinking down onto him.

his hands automatically flew up to my waist when he bottomed out, stopping me from moving.

“god, i could cum right now if you start moving” deciding to test his limits, i spoke “good” before beginning to move anyway.

“fuck- oh my god” he groaned out as he began to shake underneath me.

i knew his frustrations from his previously ruined orgasm were building up, but i didn’t think it’d actually make him finish so quickly.

“i can’t- holy shit” he shuddered as he shot his load into me.

i gave him a minute to regain his breath, his grip on my hips tightening slightly.

“i still- i wanna make you feel good. please let me fuck you” he begged.

“yeah? give it to me, baby” he lifted me up slightly before beginning to thrust his hips up into mine.

the feeling of his hot cum being fucked into me sent me into a frenzy, only making me wetter.

i could tell he was struggling, overworking his already spent muscles to make sure i felt good.

“you’re so good to me, chris. let me take care of you” i whispered down to him.

his thrusts came to a hault, allowing me to take over as i rocked my hips into his.

“fuck, yes. oh my god” he shakily moaned as his head fell onto my shoulder.

i brought my hand to his hair, raking my fingers through it slowly while i rolled my hips on top of him sensually.

“look so pretty like this, oh” his face scrunched up as he began to whimper under me, making me clench around him at the sound.

“fuck- i’m so sensitive” he spoke.

“i know, baby. can’t help it, love hearing those sounds you make” i breathed out.

“still feeling ok?" i asked.

he nodded his head at that, “yes, so close. can i cum?” he asked as his hands slid to my ass, groping and massaging the skin.

“wait for me, i’m almost there. can you hold it w little longer?” i asked, reaching between us to rub my clit.

“t-too much” he whined, his face scrunching up while a few tears fell down his face.

“take it, chris” i told him, wiping his tears away while he twitched inside of me.

his legs began to shake involuntarily, increasing the friction between us.

“fuck” his voice broke as he moaned out, eyes rolling back as he bit his lip.

“go ahead, chris. let go” i told him, his hips stuttering as his head flew back and he filled me up with his cum.

it wasn’t long before i finished on top of him, my release dripping out of me and onto his dick.

we took a minute to catch our breath, staying in the same position for a while.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, moving to get up when he stopped me.

“wait, can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked, his arms wrapping tighter around me.

“of course” i told him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hug his body close to mine.

“you ok?” i asked as i rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“when i’m with you? always” he spoke, placing a kiss to my shoulder.

🍑🍑🍑🍑

dwb! chris masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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yuvany · 20 days

Text

#ENHYPEN TAKING CARE OF YOU

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 with an injured!reader

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem reader , CONTENT/WARNING(S) :: mentions of injuries + fuff + skinship + kisses + not roofread , WORD COUNT :: 818 <> CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

He holds the door open for you as you jump in with your crutches. Heeseung is worried you might injure yourself more if you exert too much force onto your leg, and so he will be by your side at all time carrying your bags for you, pushing out chairs and handling your crutches for you as he sets them aside. "Babe, it's alright. I can do this myself." You sigh, feeling like he is doing way more than necessary. "But I like doing this." He replies sweetly, his fingers running along your cheekbone before placing a kiss onto the place.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Knows what to do by instint. Even if he's never taken care of someone before, he'll look like a professional. Has alarms for when you should take your medication and when to take of the bandages and replace them. "y/n, sweetie, come here!" He calls from the kitchen. As you walk in, you see him holding the medicin prescribed to you. You groan at the sighs, and Jay notices. "It tastes awful." You sigh, and Jay reaches for a jar of honey on a taller shelf. "Won't be so bad if we add this. Cheer up, alright?"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗨𝗡

Will let you do whatever you want. You want to braid his hair? Go for it. Is really caring and asks you over and over again if you're feeling comfortable. "Babe, should I move that pillow over there?" He points at the pillow in your lap, and you shake your head. "No need, I like this." Jake nods, and inches closer to you, his head seeming to want to connect with your shoulder, but he hesitates. "What up, baby?" You ask him, noticing how he's acting. "Nothing." You sigh and pull his head down onto your shoulder. "Jakie, resting on my shoulder won't injure me." You chuckle.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

Sunghoon was washing your hair for you as you had broken your arm. His fingers massage your scalp as you are bent over the bathtub. You only hear the water coming from the tap and his humming, which makes this immensely comfortable. Sunghoon taps your back when he's done and wraps your head in a towel. "You look so cute like this." He says with a hand on his hip. He also helps you dry it: Sunghoon plugs the hairdryer in the outlet as he sits on the edge of your bed with you on the floor in front of him. He combs your hair with his fingers and parts your hair to make it dry faster. "Thanks, love." You give him a kiss as a gift.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

He is super gentle and careful. Puts extra pillows on his bed, the couch and removes everything that might seem like an obstacle to you. Wants you to be comfortable, and wants you to heal fast so that the two of you can cuddle close once more. "Sunsun, why so many pillows?" You ask him. "Don't you like it?" He returns the question with a gleam in his eyes, and you shake your head in disapproval, "Of course I do!" you explaimed, leaning on him now. "Well, good." Sunoo hums and sits on the couch as he pats his lap for your head to rest on. You lay your head on his lap and feel his fingers trace your scalp.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

helps you with whatever you need help with, won't indulge too much as he doesn't want you to feel hopeless. He asks you questions about your fracture and how long it will take to heal. "I'll just need to wear this for a month more according to my doctor." You explain as the two of you go on your weekly walk in the evening. His arms wrap around your shoulders and pulls you aside in case someone gets too close, and might accidentally bump into you. His steps are shorter, and he walks slower so that you won't need to exhaust yourself much to match his pace. "Sounds good, honey." Jungwon says, kissing your hair.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

He'll ask his hyungs what to do since he is unsure and doesn't want to do something wrong. You see him on his phone, reading something intently as his fingers are in his hair. "Baby, is everything okay?" You ask, standing up from your seat. "Everything is under control. Rest, please." Riki guides you back with his palm on the small of your back. "You look worried though." You say with eyebrows creased. "I just don't know how to take care of you." He explains, and you crack a smile at his childish tone. "My dear, you don't need to do anything, I'm able to take care of myself." You kiss his cheek, and he wraps his arms around you. "I love you." He places a kiss onto your cast. "Hope this'll heal it faster." "I'm sure it will."

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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can i req deadpool and wolverine kinda fighting over your attention in the poly relationship and it making reader kinda sad so they both just switch to comfort mode :3 oki thank you 💓

You hated it whenever Wade and Logan fought over you. It didn’t feel as though they were doing it to have quality time with you but more so to have bragging rights over the other.

You hated it as it made you feel almost undervalued by them, which you knew was utter bullshit, but your thoughts often won out and got the better of you as you were forced to watch your beloved partners go for each others throats…again.

‘Pookie bear please tell this scruffy lumberjack that you’d much rather be with me to cuddle.’ Wade said as he stared Logan down with a shit eating grin. However before you could even open your mouth to answer, Logan interrupted. ‘No, tell scrotum face over here that you’d rather spend time with me.’ He practically barked as he stepped closer towards Wade until the two were now chest to chest and face to face.

You sighed- upset and disappointed- and got up from the couch and began to make your way out of the room, not wanting to watch your lovers skewer each other over something so stupid. ‘Not thanks, I’m not in the cuddling mood. Thanks for asking I guess.’ You told them as you shut the door behind you, leaving the pair to wonder what the fuck has just happened before automatically pointing the finger at each other as per usual when things didn’t go right.

‘The fuck did you do this time.’ Logan growled and Wade held up his hands in surrender.

‘I didn’t do shit! If anything you probably pissed my cutie pie off more so than me.’ He tells Logan who only looks at him as though he had just grown a second head. ‘Me? You think I pissed y/n off? They didn’t look pissed they looked sad you humanoid nutsack and it’s because of us always fighting!’ He spat as he then realised what he has said as it all clicked for him. You hadn’t looked happy in the slightest recently and them fighting didn’t seem to make matters better, you were dating both of them, not one but it seemed that with how they went about it must’ve drove you away from them in that aspect.

Wade, slowly lowering his hands, also realised the same thing Logan did and couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for this as much as Logan blamed himself. Neither men liked to share and so being in a relationship with you but also each other was something they were -still- yet to get use to, and in the process that was what made you feel somewhat neglected and pushed to the sidelines by the both of them. ‘I would rather disembowl myself, rip my nuts off and use them as nunchucks to hit myself then let my pookie cutie stay sad.’

Logan made a face but shrugs it off as Wade being Wade as they both made their way out of the room. ‘I agree with the sentiment but for the record if anyone is hitting you repeatedly with the nut-nunchucks it’s me.’

Wade smacks him on the ass, causing him to grunt and glare at him, ‘see! Now we’re getting a long my sexy, scruffy lumberjack! Now to excessively comfort our cutie patootie with the booty!’ He exclaimed as they made their way to your shared room, just to find you buried under the covers almost motionless.

‘Hi peanut.’ Wade greets softly as you peered at them over the bedsheets.

‘You done fighting already?’ You asked before tucking the bedsheets up under your chin, ‘That was quick, quicker than usual at least.’ You add as Wade and Logan sat on either side of you on the bed with worry written in their eyes.

‘We’re sorry if us fighting all the time is making you think we don’t care about you.’ Logan then said as he lays himself down on the bed, pressing himself up against your back and holding there with his hands on your hips. ‘What could make you possibly think that’s the reason?’ You replied sarcastically, causing Logan to pinch your side, all the while you found yourself subconsciously snuggling into him and his warmth. ‘Dick’ you muttered your breath.

‘You call me that now but I wasn’t one being a snarky brat just now.’ Logan murmured lowly in your ear, playfully biting it.

‘It’s not my fault that our sexy lumberjack over here is the possessive type.’ Wade said as he too joins in on the cuddle session you were having by cuddling up to your front, burying his head into your chest and kissing your collar bones while Logan peppered your shoulders and neck with kisses. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You groan as Logan bit a weak spot of yours just below your ear as your hand reached behind you to run through his hair, while the other toyed with the collar of Wade’s shirt. ‘But it’s a trait that works well enough for him to not be mad at him for.’ You add as you moved your neck to grant Logan more access, all reason as to why you were upset slowly slipping away the more you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment.

‘Are we forgiven then cutie?’ Wade said as he pulled his head from kissing your collar bones and leaving small marks here and there, not that you gave a shit.

You hum as your hand that was playing with the collar of his shirt then cups the back of his head and bring him into a kiss on the lips. ‘You are forgiven-‘

‘Yes!’ He cheered.

‘-on the condition that you two stop fighting over who gets to spend time with me.’ You then add as Logan and Wade look at one another before shrugging in unison as they looked back at you.

‘Deal.’ They both said and you smiled at your boys with the smile they’ve both been waiting to see the entire day. ‘Good,’ you said as your bit back a yawn, having been pressed snug between the two men for a while and their warmth, you were bound to be sent almost into a state of pleasurable slumber. ‘Now come back down here and cuddle me and give me kisses.’ You pouted while making grabby hands at both men, who both had matching smirks across their stupidly handsome faces.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ Logan said

‘I live to serve you on hand a foot peanut.’ Wade followed afterwords as they squished you snug between them once again while you enjoyed the copious amounts of attention your neck, shoulders and collar bones were getting in both kisses and affectionate bite marks, finally living in the paradise you imagined with your beloved pair of silly men with insane regenerative abilities.

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mariasont · 16 days

Text

RAINY WITH A CHANCE OF HOTCH - A.H

a/n: hi wow it's been a hot minute!

firstly, i just want to say i am so incredibly grateful for everyone who has reached out <3 i love you all and once i am not as overwhelmed i promise i'll go through my messages and inbox. you all are amazing and im kissing you all through the screen.

secondly, this summer was the hottest messiest express that could have been is the short n sweet explanation to my disappearance (sabrina reference, sorry i had to) but i just struggled hard core with my mental health and needed a detox from social media.

thirdly, but i'm back and i love you all and here is a short like fic featuring everyone's fav miss bimbo reader <3

masterlist

parings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: just some cuties being cute

wc: 0.6k

Hotch hesitated to acknowledge the fact that he found himself often gazing out of his office window, discreetly observing your arrival in the parking lot each morning. He attempted to justify this behavior by reasoning that, as the unit chief, it was within his responsibilities to monitor the welfare of his team.

He mentally recited the same mantra repeatedly as he moved towards the exit, an umbrella tapping persistently against his side. Hotch found himself calling out your name before he realized it, his hand shielding his face from the unrelenting raindrops as he took in your appearance.

"Stay there," he borderline commanded, moving towards you as you clung to the driver’s side door.

You looked as pretty as ever, with your hair swept back from your face and curls framing your doe eyes. It made you that much more alluring and, consequently, even more distracting.

When you first joined as his assistant, he discreetly suggested to whoever was in charge of the hires back then that he was less than pleased with the arrangement. He found it hard to focus, his eyes constantly drawn to you. He wanted to claim it was involuntary, but he knew there was intention behind his constant search for you.

"Well, hi there, boss man," you chirped, your disposition utterly unaffected by the water that had dampened your outfit.

He considered himself a noble man, honorable even, or so he told himself as he resisted the urge to glance down at your blouse that was now nearly see-through.

He quickly unfurled the umbrella, taking the liberty of shielding your perfect face from the onslaught of raindrops. You smiled up at him in a way that was so carefree it made his heart clench in his chest.

He cleared his throat. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”

“Good thing you’re here to prevent that.”

Aaron’s face was now wet, rivulets of rain tracing paths from his hair to his chin. He struggled to prevent a smile at your words, tucking his chin into his chest to conceal it.

He let you take hold of his arm, your purse occasionally tapping into his leg as he closed your car door and started towards the entrance. You leaned in closer, earning a knowing look from him.

You smiled into your coffee, pink lipstick staining the travel cup. “What? I wasn’t all the way under the umbrella.”

He knew that was a lie because he wasn’t all the way under the umbrella, ensuring you were fully covered.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Your eyes are very expressive, Mr.”

“Then you should know I’m thinking we need to get you inside and dry." He looked at you knowingly, his grip on the umbrella tightening as you both reached the entrance.

“Dry? Around you?” you questioned, smiling innocently towards Hotch as he closed the umbrella and opened the front door. “Wishful thinking, sir.”

“Do I need to remind you we’re at work?”

Hotch combed his semi-damp hair with his fingers, flicking some water in your direction. You squealed, hands flying to shield your face, a stream of giggles following. The smile on his face was now inevitable.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,” you managed to say through the laughter.

He kissed your cheek softly, then started to walk to his office. Glancing back, he adds, “You’ll be sorry when we get home.”

That shut you up.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3

join my taglist here!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo #bimbo reader #criminal minds

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atebyflowers · 14 days

Text

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎vampire!reader x ellie williams

cw: blood drinking, fingering, sub!ellie, angst (?) . . .

thinking about ellie and vampire!reader being dangerously obsessed with eachother . . . from the moment you layed eyes on her, she was all you could think about, all you could dream about tasting. you promised yourself you'd try to stay away from her as much as possible. "only friends" is what you had decided on in your mind if she would even give you the chance . . . which she did. over time, you two drifted towards eachother so naturally. it was impossible, being with her was so easy, every second close to her made it harder to hold back.

and now, here you are ... ellie seated on the edge of your bed as you straddle her — fighting with your senses, and her words. "we can't keep doing this ellie. . . it isn't good for either of us" you told her, hesitant on where to put ur hands — terrified of sending yourself over the edge uncontrollably. "i don't want to live without you" she whispers, your eyes now meeting — the way she looks at you being the worst weakness possible. "i'm not asking you to" you sigh in response before adding on, "i can't live with myself if something happens to you ellie... something because of me".

your tone put knots in her stomach, sometimes all she wished for was to understand you to the fullest — without any differences pulling you apart. "you won't hurt me, i know you won't" she protests, causing you to shake your head in response. "you don't know that and neither do i ... baby im not asking you to live without me we just can't be ... this close" you respond, pushing back off of her lap, trailing towards your dresser as she focuses on your every move, almost as if she was hypnotized. while she hesitates for a moment, ellie slowly stands up and walks towards you — careful with her movement before she speaks. "i want you to feed" she tells through words spoken just above a whisper, her hands gently reaching towards yours, before making their way up your arm and onto your face — cupping it before you can respond. "i can't control it ellie ... what if i hurt you? what if i can't stop? it's not just an addiction to you els... it's one to me too" you question her, eyes almost tearful as you imagine what could possibly go wrong if this continues — ellie, to stubborn to listen.

"you've done it before .. we've done this before .. you're always careful" she reminds you, and it's true. you have done this before, you've tasted her multiple times. but what you hadn't told her, is how deep the addiction was growing. how desperately you craved for her blood some nights. how terrified you were that one day you might not be able to control how far you go. "i don't want to hurt you.." you finally respond, and with those words — she takes the initiative, pressing her lips against yours with slight aggression in an attempt to shut you up... and you listen. it's as tough as it could possibly be without you taking full control, both of your mouths attached as you follow her back onto the bed — ellie, beneath you as always as your hand trails up and down her leg, tongues entwined with soft moans flowing out.

hesitantly, you move from her mouth and down to her neck, ellie instantly getting louder the moment you began to suck on her skin. "y/n... please" she begs, your body and mind knowing exactly what she wants despite previous conversations. "promise me you'll tell me if it hurts. push me off ellie, please don't let me go to far" you're practically begging as well. "ellie" you add on in a more serious matter, and despite her nearly falling apart from your touch — "yes- fuck okay i will baby just please..." she gasps out, with sharp teeth slowly sinking into her skin, a rush turns both of you on as blood drips down your lips and through your cleavage. "God you taste so good" you whine, loud moans mixed with pain and pleasure make their way to your ears — as one of your hands makes its way down her pants, the other caressing her face as you suck her dry.

it's so messy.. your fingers thrusting inside of her while her blood covers both of you.. your mouth switching between her skin, and her lips — which you can't help but bite down on in the process. "i'm s-so close" she whimpers like an overwhelmed puppy, her body soaked underneath you as your fingers reach deeper than they've ever managed to before.. so consumed in the moment. "c'mon baby.. just a little bit more yeah? almost there.." you tell her as you speed up your pace, swearing you can feel her blood running through your veins everytime you swallow. “god, don’t stop please" she begs, her voice trembling with desperation, her nails digging into your hips as you feel her clench around you. a trail of loud whines and mumbled words come out of her as she releases onto your fingers, your teeth slowly making their way out of her skin — ellie lightheaded, barely able to feel them pulling out of her. as your fingers copy your teeth, slowly pulling out of her dripping cunt, you lick the access blood off of her body — careful not to miss a spot before you bring your fingers to your mouth, consuming every part of her you can access.

"you're okay honey.. i got you" you comfort her with soft words, both hands now cupping and caressing her face as she catches her breath and comes back to reality, the wound on her neck stinging in a way that's so painful it's almost addicting. taking notice to the damp tears covering her cheeks and sore lips, you carefully pry away from her and she whimpers from lack of contact. "shh.. it's okay it's okay... jus need to clean you up els" you reassure her, quickly grabbing a towel and first aid kit. you start off by cleaning up her swollen body, before making your way towards her neck — gently cleaning the wound you had left, before covering it with a bandaid. "there .. s'all better" you whisper, and she smiles sweetly as you place a kiss on both the bandaid and her cheek — taking notice to the way she struggles to keep her eyes open, her body worn out. as you pull her into your arms, she almost instantly falls asleep at your touch, soft hands petting her head and sending her into such a natural state of comfort.

watching her sleep was the one thing you looked forward too every time this passed. everytime she let you feed. but this was different. unknown to ellie, this was the last time. a distressing decision made in your head as you drained the blood from her body, struggling to catch yourself as you fell in and out of the struggle to keep going. it was one out of many times you felt genuine fear being so lost amongst her taste. she was so precious... so delicate compared to you... you could never fully reciprocate it no matter how much you tried. no matter how much she thought you could. and so quietly, cautiously, you slip her out of your arms, careful to not wake her as you sit up. with head in your hands for a few moments, your heart burns, but your mind is strict. one last time, you remind yourself before turning to look back at her — placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears welling in your eyes alongside a saddened smile. it was destined to happen. you knew you'd never last, and once it started it would have to end eventually if you didn't want to hurt her. but the realization of how deep the connection would be, didn't hit until your last moments near her.. the more you craved her, the firther you had to stray.

#🫧 sena #ellie x reader #abby x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #tlou #ellie x dina #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou x reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 month

Note

Can you write modern Jace being a blind king? Those glasses looks THICK. Maybe reader come to his dorm and see him with his glasses?

Request: Roommates college au where there’s a mixup with the dorms and they end up in the same dorm. Imagine rooming with Jace? He’d be so cute and maybe a little nerdy idk. She moves out but they become friends…and then more than friends

The second request has been sitting in my ask for a long time (sorry). I watched Insidious: The Red Door the other day and it gave me inspiration for it (I had planned to add smut in this one but it didn't end up fitting and my laptop didn't save a few of the scenes I had written so I had to rewrite them...not as good or cute as the first time)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When you arrived at your assigned dorm, there were already people there. One was a boy with curly hair, and the other a woman with white-blond hair. Their backs were all turned, so they didn’t see you come in with your suitcase.

‘’No, Mom, you don't have to do that. I can do it myself,’’ he said, trying to stop her from unpacking a box. ‘’Classes don’t start until Monday.’’

‘’But I want to help you settle in,’’ she insisted, taking a lamp out of the box and setting it on the nightstand. ‘’My first boy is leaving for college. This is difficult for me, Jace. Let me at least help you with your bed. No one makes a bed better than a mother.’’

Jace sighed in defeat and moved out of her way so she could make his bed. ‘’Okay. Thanks, Mom.’’

She grabbed sheets from another box and began making the bed. ‘’Where are your brothers and father? Taking the last boxes out of the car shouldn’t take so long. I hope they didn’t get lost on campus.’’

You watched them with jealousy, wishing your parents had dropped you off at college too. It was a rite of passage for freshman students. But you understood that your parents had jobs they could not take days off from.

You stood there for a moment before clearing your throat to announce your presence. ‘’This is room 309?’’

Jace’s mom looked up first, giving you a kind smile. ‘’Oh, hello there. Yes, this is 309. Are you looking for someone?’’

‘’No. Eh, this is my dorm,’’ you said with a frown, holding your paper in your hand. ‘’It says 309.’’

Jace turned around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘’That’s impossible, there must be a mistake. This is a boys hall, and boys and girls aren’t supposed to room together. It’s nothing against you, I personally don’t see a problem rooming with a girl. It’s just…not permitted.’’

‘’I know. But it says here that this is my dorm.’’

‘’Let me see that paper, sweetheart.’’ The blond woman looked at your paper, her eyes reading the information slowly. ‘’Oh, no. You’re right. There must be a mistake on the college’s part.’’

‘’You should go to the housing office,’’ Jace suggested with the same kind smile as his mother. ‘’They’ll switch you to another hall.’’

You nodded. ‘’I’m gonna go and see if they can solve this issue. Can I leave my suitcase here?’’

‘’Of course.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The line outside the housing office was crazy due to the hoard of students coming back, so you didn't get back to your dorm until well later in the evening. There were no voices coming from inside your dorm, meaning Jace's family must have left.

You knocked before coming in, not wanting to walk in on something you should not be seeing. But Jace did not hear you, laying on his bed with a book and headphones on. You didn’t take him for a reader, nor a glasses wearer.

‘’What did they say at housing?’’ he asked, taking down his headphones and shutting his book.

You walked over to the empty bed and fell down on it, exhausted. ‘’They basically said sorry for the inconvenience and that I gotta sleep here tonight. But I’ll get a new room tomorrow, so it’s not a permanent thing.’’

Jace hummed. ‘’Do you need help settling for the night?’’

You shook your head, standing. ‘’No. I’m just gonna get my pillow and blanket, and change into pajamas. There’s no point unpacking when I move again tomorrow.’’

Your suitcase was heavy, so you lowered it on the floor and grabbed your pillow and blanket, then rummaged through your suitcase for your pajamas. As you held up your shorts and a tee shirt, you remembered that this was a boys' hall, meaning the bathrooms would be full of boys.

Jace seemed to read your mind. ‘’Eh, I can turn around so you can change,’’ he offered. ‘’I promise I’m not gonna look. I can even take off my glasses if you want, I’m blind as a mile without them.’’

You chuckled at his offer. What a gentleman, you noted. Making sure you feel comfortable during this inconvenience. ‘’That's okay. Just turning around is fine."

He nodded and turned his back to you, facing the wall. ‘’You’re in art school?’’ he asked, making conversation as you changed so it would be less awkward. ‘’I've seen your sketchbook and art supplies beside your suitcase. Not that I snooped through your things. I promise I didn’t.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you replied, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. It felt daunting to be topless in the same room as an almost-stranger, but you tried to not think too much about it. ‘’And you’re in...?'

''Political science,’’ he finished. ‘’My grandfather went to this university, so I’m following his footsteps. I’m also taking a side class in History for personal pleasure.’’

Political science was not what you expected him to say, but it made sense. With his glasses, he had the politician look — minus the sweats and tee shirt.

What kind of weirdo takes a history class for fun?

‘’I know what you’re thinking — history is boring. But I love learning about the past civilisations and how ancient monuments were built, it’s so fascinating. Like the Moai Statues, the Giza pyramids or the Colosseum of Rome.’’

‘’Have you ever visited one of them?’’ You slipped into your pajamas, and threw your dirty clothes on top of your suitcase.

His lips curled into an excited grin. ‘’I have! Last year, my family and I went to Italy and my dad took me and my brother Luke to see the Colosseum. It was magnificent. I took pictures. Do you want to see?’’

‘’Sure.’’

You sat back on your bed and Jace turned back around, reaching to grab his ipad to show you the pictures he took. His passion for history could be heard as he talked about the Colosseum, telling you facts you had never heard of. Eventually, the pictures came to an end, and Jace accidentally swiped too far, showing you a picture of his brothers and him making faces in Italy.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You didn’t think so many people would be up early on a Saturday. The queue at the campus café was insane. All for a coffee and a bagel.

As you walked across the quad, trying to get to the bookstore to get everything you needed for Monday, flyers were being shoved into your face, advertising for clubs, frat parties and sorority houses who were scouting for new members. You were not interested in any, but they were not taking no for answer.

A neon party? What year were they stuck into?

You threw all the invitations in the trash.

On your way back from the bookstore, you received an email from the housing office with your new dorm information. You could move in immediately, but needed to stop by for your new key.

So that's what you did.

You couldn’t wait to get to your new dorm and finally shower.

‘’You’re already going?’’ Jace asked, coming in with a paper bag containing lunch from the café you went to this morning.

You nodded, finishing zipping up your suitcase. ‘’I’m not going too far, though. I’m just a floor up, right above you, so if you jerk off or have a girl over, remember that I can hear all.’’

Jace’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, getting flustered.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Although you had moved out, you found yourself standing outside your old dorm a few days later.

‘’Howdy roomie,’’ you said when Jace opened. ‘’Let’s go out, I’m hungry.’’

Before he could say anything, you stepped in as if it was still your dorm and sat on the empty bed that used to be yours. They must not have found him a new roommate. On the desk, you noticed Jace’s laptop was opened along with his textbook.

The brunet frowned, clearly confused by your presence. ‘’Eh, what are you doing here?’’

‘’Taking my roommate out for pizza?’’ you replied. You had not eaten since that granola bar at lunch and your stomach was screaming.

‘’We’re not roommates anymore.’’

You rolled your eyes. It was a minor detail. ‘’I know, but you’re the person I’ve spent the most time with since getting here and I don’t feel like going out to eat alone. Please, Jace,’’ you said, pouting to put all chances on your side.

He was taken back. This wasn’t a common occurrence for him. A girl knocking on his door and asking him out — platonically or not.

His frown disappeared, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘’Fine,’’ he sighed. ‘’I’ll put on my shoes.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Getting pizza after class on Wednesday became a weekly rendez-vous. You sat at the same table, ordered the same toppings — pepperoni with extra cheese and red bell peppers —, and talked about anything but school. You made it an official rule on your fourth date when Jace spent the whole time biting his fingers and worrying about a paper that was due at the end of the week.

Pizza dates were your special time to unwind and stop thinking of schoolwork.

As you both settled into your usual spot, hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. Early autumn rain was the worst. The weather was too warm to carry around a jacket, but when you didn’t have one, rain would randomly start pouring.

You took a second slice of pizza and glanced at Jace. ‘’I’m gonna need your help for a project for my art class.’’

His eyes widened slightly, and he quickly swallowed his bite of pizza. ‘’Nope!’’

You frowned at his immediate refusal. ‘’You don’t want to help me?’’

‘’No! That’s not that,’’ he assured. ‘’Didn’t we make a rule that we would not be speaking of school while eating pizza? You’re breaking your own rule,’’ he pointed out.

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in the booth. ‘’I know… But Mrs. Rosenberg told us this afternoon that we needed a model for our proportion piece and I didn’t want to forget about it. All you have to do is sit and look pretty while I draw you.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh, so you think I’m pretty?’’ he teased, stuffing a huge bite of pizza in his mouth before you could swat his arm.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your own slice. ‘’So, will you be my model?’’

He thought about it, a slight pout on his lips. ‘’What’s in it for me?’’

‘’Extra time with your favorite roommate?’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘’Is this okay? I have a red polo somewhere. Maybe it would look better?’’ Jace asked as you laid out your art material on the second, unused, desk.

You shook your head, and started propping up your small easel. ‘’You’re perfect like this.’’

He nodded slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit as he settled into position by the desk lamp you had priorly angled. The silence between you was comfortable as you began tracing Jace's features on your canvas, and you took a moment to really look at him — his curly hair, the faint freckles across his aquiline nose, the highlight of his pouty lips, and the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his tee shirt.

He was nervous. You immediately picked on it when you came in with your canvas and art supplies. His demeanor was different than usual.

‘’Can you move your head slightly to the left?’’

Jace complied, the dull yellow light of the lamp hitting exactly where you wanted it. Now, you could see all the angles and edges of his face.

‘’Yes! That’s perfect!’’

You continued tracing the contrasts and outlines of your model's face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Jace found it cute, but he kept it to himself.

The afternoon passed. You painted and mixed colors on your palette, lost in your creative bubble while Jace was trying his best to keep his posture...which was starting to ache. Sitting completely straight for hours was more difficult than he thought.

As you were working on his complexion, you stole glances at your ex-roommate, trying to get every detail on your canvas, and noticed him shifting slightly, uncomfortable.

‘’You know,’’ you began, breaking the silence. ‘’You don’t have to stay completely still like a statue. Feel free to move a little or adjust. I'll tell you if it doesn't work for me.’’

Jace gave a small laugh, the sound light and nervous. ‘’I’m not really used to this… Playing the model.’’

‘’I think you're doing good. Just...a bit stiff.’’

You continued painting him until the sun began to set, then called for a much deserved snack break. Jace pulled out a pack of Oreos from the snack box in his closet and your eyes turned into hearts. They were your favorite.

‘’You really know the way to a girl’s heart,’’ you said as you took a third cookie from the pack.

Jace smiled at you, pleased to see you enjoying them. He took a fifth one and chewed slowly as crumbs fell on his shirt. Oreos were messy. ‘’My mom sent them to me in a care package last week. I need my sugar to stay focused when I stay up late doing schoolwork.’’

Your heart melted at the sweet attention from Jace’s mother.

‘’How is the painting going?’’

‘’It’s coming together nicely. But it won’t be finished tonight. Painting takes a while. Especially portraits,’’ you replied. ‘’I need to get every little detail right. From that one curl that’s almost poking you in the eye to the dust of freckles on your nose.’’

The brunet’s cheeks flushed a bit at your words. He was not sure what to do with the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. Was this a compliment? Gods, he sucked with girls.

You stayed in Jace’s dorm until one of you began yawning and it was time to call it a night. He helped you put your painting supplies away and even offered to clean your brushes in the boys’ bathrooms. This guy was a true sweetheart.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The following afternoon, you approached Jace's dorm, your painting supplies tucked under your arm. A lot of students used their Sunday to do their laundry, so you hoped he was there. You should have texted him before coming.

You were about to knock, fist raised, when you paused at the door, hearing the faint sound of a facetime conversation coming from inside.

‘’She’s not my girlfriend. Shut up, Luke,’’ Jace's voice came through, tinged with frustration.

You could imagine his cheeks heating up.

‘’You go on dates all the time…and you said she was cute, and talented, and funny,'' Luke's voice, younger and teasing, said, recalling everything.

You should feel ashamed for eavesdropping on a conversation about you, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, butterflies filling your stomach. Jace had talked to his brother about you? If Luke assumed you were his girlfriend, he must have talked about you more than once.

‘’We’re just friends. I don’t have time for a girlfriend anyway. I have a lot of schoolwork,’’ Jace interrupted, his tone firm but slightly defensive.

‘’Nerd,’’ Luke snickered.

You didn’t meet him on moving day, but you assumed he was the kind of brother who loved to tease his siblings. From what Jace had told you, he was quite the little troublemaker.

A few doors down, a guy walked out of his dorm with a bag of dirty clothes and sweatpants low on his hips, and stared you down as you stood in the corridor. He was walking your way, so you took this as your cue to knock on Jace’s door. The sound echoed throughout the quiet corridor, louder than you intended.

‘’Ohh is that your girlfriend?’’

‘’No, it's...pizza delivery. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight,’’ he added in a softer tone.

You heard movement inside and soon Jace opened the door, greeting you with his usual bright smile. He had glasses and gray sweats on, meaning he had likely not left his dorm at all today.

‘’Hey, you’re here! I was starting to think you made other plans…’’ Jace said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

‘’Never,’’ you replied, walking past him and setting your things down like yesterday. ‘’Besides, I need to bring in my final piece Wednesday morning and I still have a lot left to paint. It would have been a poor choice to not come.’’

Behind you, Jace nodded. ‘’Eh, should I change into the shirt I had yesterday? Because I slept in and didn’t do laundry.’’

You shook your head. ‘’The color of your shirt does not matter. I’m still painting your pretty face.’’

Jace smiled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; it was a nervous habit he had, you had discovered. ‘’I’ll go sit at my spot, then.’’

‘’Have you taken a peak while I was not there?’’ you asked as you placed the canvas and easel in front of your chair.

You glanced over at him, half-expecting a guilty grin, but he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing slightly. ‘’No. I want to be surprised.’’

You finished setting your stuff up quietly.

The sky was gray today, clouds hanging heavy as if threatening rain, so you were thankful for the artificial light you chose to use yesterday. Natural light is great, but frustrating as it changes with time and weather.

When you began mixing colors and painting, you felt Jace’s shy gaze on you. His eyes would dart away when you almost caught him, pretending to be interested in something else, only to glance back at you a moment later. It was a silent game, one that made you smile every time you almost caught him.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

About an hour into your painting, rain started to fall heavily and the sky began to shake with thunder. It echoed loudly around the room, causing the lights to flash.

You were used to rain and thunderstorms, so you didn't think this one was strong enough to cause a power outage, but after an especially loud crack of thunder, the whole dorm went dark.

‘’I guess that’s our cue to stop for today,’’ you said with a small laugh, barely able to see your canvas in front of you. You sighed, slightly frustrated by the interruption, and put your brush down on the easel.

Jace moved to his window, seeing the pouring rain and an impressive lightning flashing in the distance. ''Looks like it's not going to let up anytime soon.'' He glanced at your face, but was blinded by the brightness of your phone’s light.

You quickly apologized, laughing. ‘’I didn't mean to do that,’’ you promised.

He glared at you and went back to his bed, rubbing his eyes. ‘’It’s worse with my glasses. I can’t see.’’

You laughed harder, directing the light to the ceiling so no one would be blinded by it. ‘’Do you think the university has a generator?’’

‘’For the academic buildings, not the residences. It would take a massive one to provide power to the whole campus,’’ Jace explained, finally starting to get his vision back. ‘’We’re stuck in the dark until it gets back.’’

You sighed and abandoned your side to move and sit on Jace’s bed. You could have gone back to your dorm, but you would be sitting alone in the dark. He turned his head to look at you, noticing you sitting on the edge of his bed, and moved back to make more room for you. You smiled, a silent ‘thank you’.

Thankfully, it was only mid-November, so it was not that cold. But it will get cold eventually if the power goes out for too long…

After a few hours, the power was not back. And the room had gotten a little cold, so Jace offered you one of his hoodies. It was gray and felt like a blanket on you. And it smelled like him — woodsy and comforting.

Through this long darkness and silence, you found yourself thinking about the conversation you heard when you came to his dorm. You figured it was heavily influenced by the hoodie enveloping you.

‘’Jace?’’

He hummed, sitting in his corner against his pillows.

The words vomited out before you could stop them. ‘’Why did you tell your brother that you didn’t have time for a girlfriend when you spend all your free time with me?’’

The brunet was taken aback by your question. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, his cheeks flaming. ‘’How do you know—’’

‘’I heard you on the phone earlier. I didn't mean to listen, I just…did.’’

Jace cleared his throat and spoke quietly, his voice strained and embarrassed. ‘’You weren’t supposed to hear that...’’ He looked away from you, avoiding your gaze. ''What else have you heard?''

A lump of guilt knotted inside your stomach for putting him on the spot like this. ''Not much. A guy walked out of his dorm and was staring me down, so I knocked on your door to get away,'' you explained in truth.

There was a moment of silence as Jace picked at his fingers. He was still embarrassed, but he needed to push it to the side and make something useful out of it. ‘’I told Luke I didn’t have time for a girlfriend because I don’t know how to have a girlfriend. I mean, I do know the principle. I just…don’t know how to talk to girls.’’

You smiled, finding his honesty adorable. ‘’You’re talking to me now,’’ you said with a hint of amusement hiding behind your words.

‘’And it’s exactly the problem. We’re just talking,’’ he muttered more to himself than to you.

‘’Would you like us to do more than talking?’’ you asked flirtatiously, extending an invisible hand for Jace to grasp.

Slowly, his gaze shifted back to you. ‘’It depends what you mean by more than talking…’’

There was another loud crack of thunder, echoing and shaking the walls. The loud noise made Jace jump slightly, nervous from the proximity between you. He tried to brush it off, but you grinned and inched closer to cup his face.

''Tell me if you want me to stop.''

His eyes found yours and he gripped the blanket, needing something to grab to take his nerves off. ''I don't want you to stop.''

You leaned closer, your hand still on his cheek, and pressed your lips onto his. The touch of your lips sent a jolt of electricity up Jace's spine. He gasped, having never felt so much from a simple kiss, and kissed you back without hesitation, his lips plush but chapped against yours.

More lightning pierced the horizon outside the window, but you were too lost in each other's lips to notice. Jace's hand that was not grabbing the blanket came to rest on your hip to pull you a little closer. He was gentle and inexperienced, you could feel it in the way he was touching you.

You pulled away to catch your breath, but a needy whine left his lips, grabbing your hip with more force and pulling you back in. He was not done kissing you.

When night came and the power finally returned, you didn’t go to your dorm. You borrowed one of Jace’s tee shirts and slid under the covers with him. You both had classes at 8am, so you simply laid together, Jace’s head on your chest while you gently rubbed his back and slowly fell asleep.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

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ariestrxsh · 2 months

Text

ﾟ･✧⋆:˚⋆𓀏𓌜⛓⋆༺𓆩♡𓆪༻⋆⛓𓌜𓀏⋆˚:⋆ ✧･ﾟ

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, utter filth, threesome, elements of BDSM, establishment of safeword, knifeplay, cutting off clothing, degradation, humiliation, oral, face fucking, rough unprotected sex, creampie, facial, dumbification, light elements of corruption

📝 author's note: 📝 please do not engage in knifeplay if you do not fully trust the other person or if they're inexperienced. it is dangerous. here is part one of this fic. please read it. it will add a lot of context and make part two even better. 💖

✍️ Summary: ✍️ A game of truth or dare between you, Matt, and Chris has steered itself in a darker direction. You and Chris end up corrupting Matt's innocence and naivety to the world of BDSM.

ﾟ･✧⋆:˚⋆𓀏𓌜⛓⋆༺𓆩♡𓆪༻⋆⛓𓌜𓀏⋆˚:⋆ ✧･ﾟ

knife part two

"Let's go to my room," Chris suggested, gathering all our clothes and the liquor. Matt's hands wandered to my waist as he guided me into Chris' room. Matt pushed me onto his brother's bed, and I watched as they both towered over me.

"We need a safe word," Chris muttered. "Why not just 'no' or 'stop'?" Matt naively wondered. "Matt, you're no fun," Chris rolled his eyes. "How about 'pomegranate'?" Chris suggested, a smug look forming across his face. It was clear to me that with how quickly he came up with it, he'd used that safe word before and that he knew he'd be responsive to it. I nodded, and so did Matt.

"You already got to fuck her. It's my turn. Give me your knife," Matt growled. Ugh, his dominance was showing. Chris handed his brother the switch blade from out of his pocket. "Do you trust me?" Matt huskily whispered, looking into my eyes and fiddling with the knife. "With my life," I whispered back, biting my lip as I felt an anticipation brewing deep within me.

I couldn't have predicted what Matt was going to do next. He left me in utter shock as he cut my t-shirt from my torso. Then, he sliced my bra from my ribcage, and then I was lying totally naked below him. Matt looked in awe at my body and then in awe at the sharp object in his hand, watching the light catch in its reflection as he fidgeted with it. It was almost as if he was surprised he had it in him to use a knife so close to somebody's skin like that. I know Chris and I both were.

For a split second, I was disappointed about my tattered clothes, but the cost of a new bra was way cheaper than the priceless thrill I experienced as Matt wielded a weapon around, threatening me in the most exciting way.

Matt rested the knife between my knees and looked up at me with a darkness in his eyes, "open your fucking legs," he commanded. I became like water beneath him, willing to be whatever he needed me to be and eager to bend to his every desire. My legs fell open without having to think about it. He took the knife and started lightly tracing a line from the inside of my knee to the inside of my thigh. Goosebumps arose all over my whole body, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention for Matt and the power he held in that moment.

The emptiness between my legs ached to be filled by him as he taunted me. I loved the sensation of the cool blade gliding across my warm skin, sending shivers down my spine. He continued to drag it like a feather across my stomach, between my breasts, and finally, he held it up to my neck. I looked into his electric blue eyes while I felt the cold metal resting against my throat. I swallowed hard. He held the knife there while he maneuvered his cock inside me.

His thrusts were controlled, steady, and methodical. He took his time, but his strokes were incredibly compelling and passionate, hitting all the right spots every time. "Your pretty pussy feels so good," Matt groaned, applying a little more pressure with the knife. I could already feel myself starting to get close, but I wanted this sensation to last forever, so I decided I'd hold on as long as I could.

Chris came around to the side of the bed, made a ponytail with his hand, and tightly gripped my hair. He looked down longingly at the knife against my throat and the fear and arousal in my expression. He smiled maliciously at me as he slid his meat into my mouth. He watched intently as I opened my throat to accept all of him, and his length disappeared behind my lips. "You swallow my cock so well, you naughty little whore," Chris hoarsely said, beginning to fuck my mouth with incredible vigor.

I loved every minute of them both pounding my different orifices in different ways while I felt the cold, sharp edge vibrating against my neck. I was slightly nervous about Matt being inexperienced with knifeplay, especially with the way my body was jerking around beneath them, but I trusted him.

Sweet nothings and gorgeous sounds passed between their lips while we all moved harmoniously with one another. Chris couldn't keep his hands to himself, and Matt was staring down at my pussy while he moved in and out of me, slowly but powerfully. I felt a rumbling deep within as they brought me to my fourth orgasm of the night. Thank god Chris was muffling my satisfied sounds with his dick so that Nick didn't hear me cumming from the next room. My legs started to tremble, and my eyes rolled back as I finished all over Matt's cock that was buried deep in my warmth. Matt and Chris both grinned from ear to ear, completely satisfied with themselves and how simple it was for them to me to cum with their combined touch.

Matt switched the blade closed and set it off to the side, and then he used both hands to grab both my legs to hold them in place and delivered some incredibly powerful thrusts until I could tell that he was barely hanging on. His eyes were rolled back, his pink lips were parted, and his expression was overcome by sheer pleasure.

I shifted my gaze to Chris, who still had a tight grip on my hair and was thrusting himself into the back of my throat like his life depended on it. He looked like he was in a trance, lost in the way his cock looked plunging in and out of my mouth. The room was filled with the sound of my gagging, skin slapping against skin, and Chris' and Matt's desperate moans.

At the same time, I felt both their cocks start twitching and pulsing in my different holes, and they both filled me with their loads as they loudly grunted and eventually slowed their thrusts to a stop.

Matt collapsed onto the bed next to me, smiling, breathless, and sweaty from how much effort he'd put into fucking me. "That knife thing? Crazy hot. I felt so powerful," he whispered, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Chris bit his lip and looked down at me astonished, my watery eyes, my bruised lips, my chin covered in my own saliva and his semen. "Wow, look at how gorgeous you look covered in me like that," Chris whispered, wiping some of the fluid from my face with my clothes Matt had cut off earlier in the night. I fucking loved how freaky Chris was. I loved that he could ruthlessly face-fuck me and get off on how helpless and pathetic I looked under his control, and then he would wipe my face lovingly after. And I loved that despite a lot of this being outside of Matt's comfort zone, he was willing to try it, and it turned out he was good at it and enjoyed it.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could keep fucking going," Chris muttered softly, running his finger along my bottom lip and looking at me like he was starving for more. "I could go all night for you two," I replied in a sultry tone, staring down at Chris' soft, plump lips and licking my own. "Get on your hands and knees," Chris demanded, his voice dripping with lust. "Matt, I want you to fuck her little whore mouth, and don't be shy about it."

I eagerly got into position. Chris came up behind me and started teasing my hole with his hard member, running it up and down my slit, gathering wetness. Matt appeared in front of me, and he looked down at me with his gorgeous blue eyes, conveying to me how badly he wanted me to open my mouth, and so I did. They both entered me at the same time, and I was immediately under both their spells. I couldn't think straight.

Chris' thrusts were primal and needy, immediately starting off mercilessly. Matt was slow and gentle, but the power from Chris' strokes threw me forward onto Matt's dick, causing me to choke a bit. "I told you not to hold back. Do as I said and fuck her mouth silly," Chris shot Matt an annoyed look. "I don't wanna hurt her," Matt uttered, looking down at me with loving eyes, biting his lip, and brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. "You saw her porn history. Nothing can hurt her, and if it can, then she likes it," Chris laughed.

I nodded in agreement with what Chris said. I couldn't say anything with Matt's glorious meat filling my mouth, but I tried to communicate with my eyes, I can handle it, I promise. Matt reluctantly obeyed his brother, and I relaxed my throat to allow him in more deeply.

Matt's thrusts started becoming more brutal. He was still sensual and passionate, but he seemed as if he had tapped into a more carnal part of him that was willing to do anything to hunt down his orgasm. His eyes darkened as he savagely fucked my mouth, and a lustful smirk grew on his face.

"That's it. That's what I'm talking about," Chris grunted, quickening his own thrusts. I loved the way Chris bossed us both around. I loved how rough he was. And I loved that he could read me like a book, knowing exactly how I wanted to be used, and being able to convey that to Matt.

"How does she look Matt?" Chris asked breathlessly. "So hot. She's drooling all over my meat. She's got tears in her eyes, and she can't keep her vision straight. Oh god," Matt whimpered, pounding into me even harder. "Awh, she's all dumb for our cocks," Chris cooed, "that's all she's good for, being our little cock sleeve." I fucking loved listening to Chris degrade me. He was so goddamned good at it. I could tell Matt was also relishing in the way Chris was talking about me. Maybe Matt was a little less vanilla than he thought.

"Do you like being called a little whore?" Matt softly asked me while he ruthlessly fucked my face. I looked up at him and nodded as best as I could. "Yeah? Do you like being my little whore?" Matt tenderly asked, testing the waters, considering he'd never degraded a woman in such a way before, especially not to her face. I feverishly nodded again and moaned in response. "Ugh, take my cock, you fucking whore," Matt rolled his eyes back into his head and smiled maliciously. I could tell he fucking loved calling me that. I couldn't help but to think about how Chris and I had corrupted Matt's tame taste and introduced him to a whole new aspect of his sexuality, a much less inhibited side, and I loved being there to discover it with him.

I focused my attention back to Chris, the way he was somehow still going. His stamina was fucking incredible. And he didn't skip a beat. He rhythmically pounded his throbbing member into me, hitting my favorite spot with every stroke. His breathing was labored and profanities passionately flowed from the tip of his tongue and filled my senses.

I was on the brink, once again. All self-control, lost. Any amount of strength I had to hold myself together any longer shattered within me. I moaned against the base of Matt's cock as my legs started wobbling, and I covered Chris' cock in a shiny sheen of my juices. At this point, I'd lost track of how many times I had climaxed.

"Can I cum on your pretty little whore face, hmm?" Matt cooed as he got closer. Fuck, I thought he'd never ask. I eagerly nodded. "Here it comes," Matt warned me. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue as a sticky, warm rope of Matt's sperm generously splattered across my cheek. Matt continued to stroke his member until he had completely finished, dousing my face in his fluids. "Holy shit," Matt said, pushing back his sweaty hair while he peered down in sweet delight at the mess he'd made.

Having witnessed his brother cumming all over my face, Chris came unraveled. He throbbed inside me, letting out a few more ravenous groans while he emptied himself into me. "Fuck, Matt. That last cumshot was cinematic," Chris complimented Matt with his rod still inside of me. "Means a lot coming from you," Matt smirked at Chris.

"So, what did you say about us before? If I recall, it was 'disturbed' and 'sick'?" Chris mocked Matt. "I guess I see the appeal now. Or maybe I'm just as sick and disturbed as you guys are," Matt panted.

"Oh no, did I get it in your eyes, pretty girl?" Matt asked, turning his attention back to me, a look of concern on his face while he wiped his substance from my brow with my torn shirt. "It wasn't your fault. I didn't close my eyes because I couldn't stop admiring how good you looked while you finished," I admitted. "I'm sorry I was so rough with you. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me," Matt said, cupping my face after he'd cleaned me off. "Don't be. I loved it. You were the perfect gentleman to me," I replied, biting my lip. "Chris, will you go run the shower for her?" Matt inquired, but Chris was already getting up to go do so, "on it."

Matt started examining me to make sure he didn't hurt me with the knife. "Oh fuck. I marked you," he anxiously told me, running his finger along the raised red line. I reached up to feel it. "Don't worry, darling. It happens. You didn't even break skin. It's just a little irritated," I consoled him.

"I'm gonna go get you a glass of water, pretty girl. Just sit tight for me," Matt whispered, kissing me on the forehead.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @alizestvrnss @seluky10 @sleepysturniolo @sturnsxbitvh

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo fic #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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pastryfication · 2 months

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Hi! I'm sorry to add to your request workload but you write Oscar so well that I couldn't help myself! So recently, I took the plunge and bought myself a home pottery kit after wanting one for absolutely ages so I wondered if you could write something about Oscar and his girlfriend having an at-home pottery date night?

hi!! thank you for the request 🫶 i’m absolutely terrible at pottery but for this one i brought out my inner talent 🤞

pottery date | oscar piastri

convincing oscar to try and do pottery with you wasn’t hard. he agreed to almost everything you wanted and did it with joy too, because he just liked seeing you happy. if he could contribute to that, he would do so enthusiastically.

he had put on an old shirt, an alpine academy polo, that he didn’t mind ruining, and sat himself expectantly at the table, awaiting your instructions.

you smile at the sight of him as you hand him a lump of clay and start explaining the basics. you're not much more experienced yourself, but he listens intently to you nonetheless.

the instructions are simple enough, and soon you're both sitting across from each other, the clay cool and malleable under your fingers. you glance up to see oscar's tongue poking out in concentration, and you can't help but laugh.

"what?" he asks, looking up.

"nothing," you say, shaking your head. "you're just cute when you're focused."

he grins brightly at you for a second before he goes back to his clay. you can see he's enjoying himself, and his contempt is contagious. the soft music playing in the background, the warm light of the kitchen, and the simple act of creating something together—it’s all perfect.

as you work, you talk about everything and nothing. he tells you about a funny incident at work, and you share a story from your childhood. it's comfortable and easy, the kind of evening you cherish.

an hour later, your hands are covered in clay, and you’ve both created lumpy, misshapen bowls. you laugh as you compare them, realizing neither of you will be winning any pottery awards.

"hey, it's the effort that counts," oscar says, holding up his bowl proudly.

you nod, still giggling. "absolutely. and i think these are beautiful in their own way."

“definitely,” oscar replies, smiling at you from his seat. you look absolutely stunning in the glowing light from the kitchen and he thinks to himself that this is exactly how he wants to spend the rest of his life. with you.

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of-cauldrons-and-inkpens · 1 year

Text

You Missed My Heart: PART 1

PART 1 LINK | PART 2 LINK | PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,107 Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.

I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”

Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.

Hot tears slid down my face.

I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.

I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.

Had someone been here?

Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?

I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.

The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.

I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.

Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.

The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.

I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.

I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.

No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.

Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.

I flinched at the reminder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”

“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.

“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”

“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”

“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.

“She should have died. I’m saving her.”

“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.

Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.

My Miguel.

He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.

What the hell?

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.

Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.

“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.

Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.

When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?

Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.

“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.

What the hell was this thing?

I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.

The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.

‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.

Miguel.

No. No. No.

Did I die?

Or did I finally go insane?

I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.

It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.

I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.

If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.

Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.

Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.

I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.

A deafening silence filled the room.

I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.

Then, I did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.

I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.

It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.

“Hello?” I called.

But I was all alone.

“Hello?” I screamed.

Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”

I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’

Miguel.

“What the fuck?” I screamed.

“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.

When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.

That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.

Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.

“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”

“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.

“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.

“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.

“What?”

“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”

I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.

“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.

“It’s our home.”

“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.

“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.

“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.

“Because I am him… in a way.”

“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”

“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”

“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”

“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”

“You’re insane.” I said.

“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”

“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”

“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”

Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”

“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.

“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”

His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”

“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?

Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.

Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.

I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.

“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.

“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”

He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.

“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.

He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.

“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.

“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.

“Miguel, please let me out.”

“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.

“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”

“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”

“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”

“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”

Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?

“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”

He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”

Bastard.

I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.

“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”

“It’s urgent.” She said.

It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.

“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.

“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.

“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.

I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.

My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.

There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.

I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.

Damn it, that hurt!

I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.

Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.

They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.

Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.

I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.

Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.

Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.

I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.

What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.

Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.

I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.

I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.

Lucky bastard.

He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.

I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.

I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.

I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.

He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.

“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.

“Nice outfit.”

“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”

A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”

“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.

He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.

“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.

“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.

“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.

“I feel sick.”

“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?

“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”

“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.

Tread lightly, I guess.

“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”

“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.

“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.

“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”

“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.

“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”

Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?

He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.

Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.

I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.

Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.

Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.

“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.

“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.

Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.

He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.

“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.

“Just decided that it looked better that way.”

“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”

“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.

“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.

“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”

“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.

“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”

Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.

“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.

“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”

“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”

“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.

“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.

“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”

“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”

“You love me.” He said.

“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.

“I have the right to know how she died.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.

He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.

He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.

“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.

“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”

“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.

“Lyla-“ he started.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.

So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.

“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.

“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.

He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.

“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.

“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.

“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.

“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.

Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.

“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.

He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.

He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.

Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.

His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”

“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.

A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.

“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.

God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.

I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.

“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.

Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.

He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.

He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.

He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”

“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.

“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.

“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.

“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.

Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.

“Miguel, please.”

“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.

Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.

I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.

“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.

Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.

He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.

“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.

“You’re such a showoff.”

“Am not.”

“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.

“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.

He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”

“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”

“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.

He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.

I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.

Fuck, he was good at this.

He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.

Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.

He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.

He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.

Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.

He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.

“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”

I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.

He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.

My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.

“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.

Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Miguel, what’s wrong?”

He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?

“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.

“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.

“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.

“Say it.”

“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.

“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.

“I love you.”

“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.

We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.

He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.

Fucking hell, Miguel.

With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.

His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.

Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.

He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.

“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.

“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Okay.”

“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”

I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.

After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.

He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.

It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”

“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.

“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?

“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.

“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.

“What are you wanting me to say?”

“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.

“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”

“That’s not an answer.” I said.

“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.

He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.

Was he fucking with me?

Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?

Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?

He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.

“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.

I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.

“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”

“Then stop feeling me up.”

“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.

“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.

It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.

Maybe they weren’t all that different.

I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.

Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.

I love you...

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