#(not to mention in the previous movie. WITH THE SAME COUPLE)

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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

The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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

a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[liyawritesss]

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.

Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess

Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.

He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).

So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.

“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”

And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.

Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.

He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.

Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.

Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.

“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”

“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”

Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.

It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”

The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.

“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”

Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.

“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”

It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.

A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.

“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”

The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.

“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”

Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”

It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.

Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.

“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.

The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”

Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.

“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.

The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”

“And when she do call?”

A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”

“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”

They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.

“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”

“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.

“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”

“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.

Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.

“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”

The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.

Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”

And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.

A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”

Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel. 

“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.

“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”

“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”

“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”

“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”

“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”

“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.

[words-4u]

as you wish - j.l

wc: 1.5k

a/n: down horrendous for jordan i’m going through it

warning: 18+ smut, swearing

you were jordan’s favourite thing in the world and they would do anything for you. so when you first got together and you wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t an issue.

but then four months passed, five months, six months and the most the two of you have done was dry hump. jordan would never rush you or push you into having sex but they wanted you, all of you, so bad and they were losing their mind with lust.

what jordan didn’t know was that you were just as horny as them. you constantly thought about how good it would feel to have their head in between your thighs but you were nervous, that’s what it all boiled down to.

jordan had mentioned previous partners, a couple fuckbuddies and one serious relationship, which you didn’t mind because of course people wanted them, how could they not?

you, on the other hand, have had zero sexual experience, the kind that actually matters when you enter university and kissing a classmate behind a bush when you were 11 doesn’t count in your books.

so month after month you held off on having sex with jordan because you were unsure of what to do but your desire for jordan has now outgrown your silly little fear.

you sat alone in jordan’s room as they finished their last class of the day. you had plans later that evening with some friends to catch a movie but until then you decided to kill some time by reading in jordan’s room since it has the best natural lighting.

you were so immersed in your book, you didn’t notice jordan come in until the bed dipped and they were kissing your neck.

“oh hello,” you said bringing a hand into their hair as they smushed their face into your neck.

“sorry, you just look so good on my bed reading… the secret diary of anne boleyn?” they asked peering into your lap where the book laid faced down.

“leave me alone, you know how much love history!” you chuckled as jordan sat against thier headboard and pulled you into their lap.

now straddling them, you toyed with the back of their necklace as they peered into your eyes.

“what?” you said in a hushed tone.

“nothing, you just have really pretty eyes,” jordan continued to stare into you with their intoxicating eyes. you started to get shy under their gaze so you broke it by leaning in for a soft kiss.

there couldn’t be a more perfect moment than this one. it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. you often felt that way with them but today was different.

“jordan, i-i think I’m ready,”

it took a second for what you said to register with jordan but once it did, their eyes widen a little.

“are you sure?”

you nod in confirmation. “i want to have sex.”

that statement went straight to their dick making it twitch in their pants.

“say that again,” they said as they moved you off their lap and onto the bed hovering over you.

“please fuck me,” you said grabbing their neck and kissing them with a certain passion. jordan had found a comfortable spot between your legs.

“as you wish,” they whispered as they bucked their hip into yours.

you lifted their sweater a little, hands roaming their flat and hardened chest, before jordan took it off completely. you held yourself of using your forearms and enjoyed the view. you’ve seen jordan shirtless plenty of times but knowing they were going to fuck you in a few minutes made the view so much better.

“i think you’re wearing too many layers,” they smirked which prompted you to take off your shirt and bra with no hesitation.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” they muttered before encapsulating a nipple into their mouth. a sinful noise left you as their tongue expertly swirled around your breast. their hand showed the other the same amount of attention, rolling the nipple between the pads of their fingers.

impatience got the better of you and before you knew it, you took jordan’s hand brought it down to your core making them cup you. jordan lifts their eyes up at you and you nod. you moved your hands down your body slipping of your jeans and panties along with with it. jordan’s fingers ran through the wetness that had built up, a moan echoed around the room as they circled your clit slowly.

“i’m going to take such good care of you babe, just relax,” jordan whispered in between kisses.

you listened to them, focusing on the feeling of their fingers now teasing your entrance.

“please, please just fuck me,” you begged, making them slip a finger into you, your hands moved to hold onto their back as they gradually increased their pace of thrusting their finger into you, making you moan their name.

“fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back as they curled both inside you before kissing your lips one last time and making their way down your body once again.

you watched with lust-filled eyes as they kissed down your stomach and hovered over your core, hot breath fanning over your dripping centre.

“is this ok?” they asked kissing your inner thighs, you hastily replied with a breathy ‘yes’ to make them continue. their mouth soon sucked on your clit, back arching and an even louder moan erupting from the back of your throat while they ate you.

with the feeling of them pumping their fingers inside you, combined with their tongue swirling around your clit and them moaning against your core at the taste, it didn't take long for you to reach your orgasm.

“uuuh, jordan!” you yelled out, a rush of euphoria washing over you. you shook as you came down and jordan came back up you body. their face covered in your juices and you felt almost embarrassed.

“look at you,” you laughed hiding your face behind your hands.

jordan shook their heads, “don’t be embarrassed. that was the hottest shit i’ve ever seen.”

they slowly removed your hands from you face and kissed you sloppily. you definitely tasted yourself on their face.

“see? you taste so good,” they smiled smugly.

with a quiet laugh, you pulled them down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into their mouth as they echo your laughter.

it quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when they grind their hips into you before they reluctantly tear themselves away, a small smirk appearing on their face. 

jordan unbuckled his belt getting rid of his jeans and reached over you to grab a condom from their nightstand drawer.

“so just have those in there?” you asked eyeing the the small plastic squares.

“bought them a month ago. i was feeling hopeful,” they responded sheepishly which made you laugh a little.

“presumptuous… but safe. i’ll let it go for now.” you watched as they sit back on to their heels to slide it on.

they are sweet with the way they checked in with you again, hand returning to your cheek. they smile when their fingers run over your lips. you nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and they help you to spread your legs wider so that they could fully lay between them.

they dragged their cock through your folds, catching your earlier orgasm on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, they pushed in.

touching jordan this way, feeling them this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time they kissed you.

they were sweet in the way that they went slow as they patiently waited for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before they’re completely inside you.

they leaned down to kiss you, lips caressed yours softly at first before it shifted into something a little more heated, more passionate.

"you're doing so well for me, babe," they said against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again rocking into you. "you feel so good. does it feel good for you too?"

“so good,” you told them truthfully, hand running down their back. “you fit so well.”

you felt their mouth split into a grin against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out another groan when they pulled out slightly before pushing back in.

jordan looked so beautiful pressed against you, damp hair resting on his forehead. you reached up and pushed the hair out of their eyes and trailed your fingers down their cheek as they continued to slide in and out of you.

you pulled them close and whispered some encouragement as their thrusts became erratic and they let out a deep breath. they felt even more amazing inside of you as their cock filled you with their release, coating both of you with slick warmth as they continued to move.

they gradually slowed their movements, panting in utter relief and pleasure as they came to a halt, resting inside of you with a few lingering twitches. you wrapped your legs around theirs, holding them close for a moment as you soaked in euphoric thrill.

“how was that?” you sighed making yourself comfortable in the bed. jordan joined you, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you into them.

“are you sure you’ve never had sex?” they joked prompting you to playfully smack their chest.

“i’m so happy we did… finally. i love you, j.”

“love you more, y/n/n”

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Wrapping Paper - Mike Schmidt X Female Reader

Title: Wrapping Paper

Mike Schmidt X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Abby

WC: 2,449

Warnings: The incident at Freddy's mentioned, post FNAF movie, pining, Mike's nervous, sort of idiots in love, teasing, flirting?, ~hand holding~, mini angst, and fluff

It was Abby's birthday, and Mike still didn't have a present for her. For weeks he had been looking around craft stores when he could before heading to work or after - having found a well-paying job that he hadn't been fired from yet. But even after weeks of searching, he still had nothing to give her. Mike had probably been to the craft stores more than a dozen times at this point, checking the clearance items for anything that he thought Abby would like. But, the clearance section was a small rack at the back of the shop that had half-empty boxes of crayons from unruly children taking them in the store, scribbled on notebooks, and so on. This was all he was able to afford too, he'd go to great lengths for Abby, but it saddened him that he couldn't even afford brand-new supplies like the sixty-four pack of crayons or a nice big notebook for drawing. 

Tapping absentmindedly on the wheel of his car, Mike drove home yet again empty-handed. Pulling up to his house, Mike let out a sigh as he leaned back against the seat of his car, shutting his eyes briefly before raising his arm and reading his watch. Getting out of the car, he grabbed his backpack and headed inside. Dropping his back off into his room, Mike went to the kitchen to start making dinner before Abby came home from school. But just as he was putting the spaghetti noodles in the pot of water, there was a knock at the door. 

Shutting off the stove, Mike brushed his hands on his jeans before making his way to the front door. Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you standing before him. You had a smile on your face, and you were holding a large box wrapped in colorful paper.

"Hello, Mike," You greeted him, tilting your head to the side slightly as your grin became more of a nervous one, "I hope I'm not too early," Shuffling the present under your arm, you pulled out the folded invitation from the front pocket of your jeans. The plain piece of printer paper doodled with little pictures of what you had assumed were you, Mike, and Abby, along with the date and time of Abby’s little birthday celebration. "It says three, but I thought that maybe you might need help setting things up?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure," Mike stumbled out, moving to the side to let you in. Mike watched as you placed the present on the table, dropping your bag beside it. 

You had been Mike's neighbor for the past year, recently moving in only a couple of weeks after the incident over at Freddy's. He remembered the day he met you vividly, watching Abby ride her bike up and down the sidewalk as your car pulled into the previous vacant house beside his. Stepping out of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, he watched as you opened the back of the car to begin carrying boxes into your new home. Gaining the courage after watching you struggle to unlock the front door with two cardboard boxes in your arms, Mike rushed over. 

Fumbling with your keys as you tried to unlock the door, shuffling the boxes to rest on your arm and propped-up knee as strands of your hair fell in front of your face. The way you smiled at him, grateful as he took the two boxes out of your straining arms, helping you move the rest of your boxes and furniture in. Breathily, you thanked him, offering to bake him cookies or something for him and his sister, and from then on, you, Mike, and Abby would spend a lot of time together.

You'd come over for dinner sometimes, Abby adored you, always asking about you and drawing pictures of you with her and her brother. You do the very same, inviting the two to come over for lunch or dinner, or to play board games, or to watch movies. 

Mike couldn't help but be attracted to you, ever since he watched you pull into your driveway. He didn't say anything though, pushing those rapidly growing feelings to the back of his mind, in fear of ruining the amazing friendship that you and him shared. Sometimes Mike would have to stop himself from staring at you across the table during dinners. His heart would race when he saw you spending time with Abby - seeing both of your smiling faces always brought warmth to his chest, and his breath would hitch slightly at the sound of your laugh. But he deeply cared about the friendship between you two, and wouldn't ruin the good relationship by doing anything stupid. So he held his tongue. And for the most part, you did the same thing.

Turning around to face Mike, he swiftly snapped out of the daze he had been in, meeting your eyes as you smiled at him, "So, what can I help you with? Do you need help with decorations or maybe a cake?"

Scratching his cheek, Mike shrugged a shoulder, looking around the room, "Uh, I don't have any decorations. I was about to start making the spaghetti when you arrived." He spoke, watching as you simply nodded, making your way into his kitchen. "I- I totally forgot about the cake… I’ve been so busy…" He finished, a bit embarrassed at his realization.

Noticing the pot of lukewarm water and the opened box of spaghetti noodles, you hummed to yourself before looking through the cupboards. Mike followed, leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, watching as you pulled out a small bag of flour, sugar, and a small circular pan. "Well," You huffed, a bit out of breath as you pulled out a large plastic bowl from the lower cupboards. "At least you still have some of the ingredients from our last bake day." As you began to start making the homemade cake, you glanced over at Mike, whose gaze was staring down at the floor at his feet. "You alright, Mikey?" You asked, gaining his attention.

Looking up, he let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall, "I haven't been able to find Abby a present. I've been looking for weeks but I still can't find anything for her."

You paused, pouring some flour into the bowl, looking over at the man as he began to pace the room slightly, "You couldn't find anything?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as Mike nodded his head.

"Nothing! I checked two craft stores every day after work for like three weeks." He explained, rubbing his hand over his forehead, "But I can't seem to find anything that isn't damaged or just something I think she'll like." Stopping his pacing, Mike's shoulders dropped as he let out a sigh, "I really am trying my best, y'know. It's frustrating." He admitted, glancing over at you as you turned around to look at him.

"You are doing your best, Mike," You spoke softly, slowly stirring the flour and other dry ingredients together, "And you know that Abby knows that and that she loves you." Pausing you glanced at him with a small reassuring smile, "I don't think Abby will care if you gave her a present or not, just you spending time with her, celebrating her birthday, is enough for her."

Mike nodded and walked over to stand next to you, watching you as you began to crack the eggs into a separate bowl, "You're right..."

"As always," You sang, unable to stop the grin on your face. Mike looked down at you, softly smiling to himself as you began to hum some song you liked or probably had stuck in your head. Looking up at him, your grin softened as you noticed Mike already looking at you, making your cheeks burn as you quickly looked back down at the dismantled cake ingredients in front of you. "Want to help me maybe, Mr. Schmidt?" You asked, using the remaining courage you had left to give him one last glance.

Nodding, Mike smiled lightly and picked up a whisk, beginning to help you with the mixing. He felt his heart flutter, and his mind wondered, but it faded as he began to focus on the task at hand.

It didn't take long though before the cake was finished, baked, and topped with vanilla icing and colorful candles; unlit and ready for the birthday girl. You and Mike were finishing up the spaghetti, you were working on the sauce while Mike made the meatballs. You bit your lip as you chuckled, watching as Mike almost lost his grip on the spatula he was using to roll the cooking meatballs around in the pan. Looking over at you, Mike felt his stomach twist, seeing the amused smile on your face, "What?" He questioned, glancing from you to the pan and back.

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head, "Nothing. Just enjoying my time with you, is all," Pouring the pasta sauce into a pot and putting on the lid, you leaned against the countertop to look at Mike. 

Biting the skin on the inside of his cheek, Mike turned off the stove, meeting your gaze, "Look, Y/N..." He hesitated, swallowing hard as he looked away. He was quiet for a moment before sighing and taking a step closer to you. "Thank you... For coming here today." He mumbled, his voice soft and gentle. That's not what he was meaning to say, though he did really appreciate you helping him. 

"Mikey, you don't have to thank me," You reached over to place your hand on top of his, "I'd do anything for you and Abby." You replied quietly, giving his hands a soft squeeze.

Slowly, Mike flipped over his hand, now palm to palm, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your hands to his lips so he could place a light kiss on top of yours before returning your hand to the counter as the front door opened and slammed shut. 

"Mike! I'm home!" Abby called out, dropping her backpack on the ground near the door, immediately spying the brightly-colored wrapped present on the table; a smile lit up on her face. Exiting the kitchen, a warm sensation flowed throughout Mike's body as you pulled your hand away from his, greeting the young girl whose smile widened at the sight of you, "Y/N!" She cheered, rushing into your arms.

Chuckling softly, you returned the hug, pulling away after a few seconds, "Hey, Abs," Pulling away from each other, crouched down as you held her by her upper arms, "Look at you... How old are you now? Twenty-Five?" You joked, making the girl laugh as she shook her head.

"No! I'm eleven!" She told you while laughing, making you nod your head and stand back up.

"Of course, how silly of me." Turning back around to Mike, you paused, seeing that he was still standing there, watching you interact with Abby; a fondness evident in his eyes. Looking back down at the girl, you smiled at her, "So, are you hungry? We made spaghetti." She nodded her head eagerly, sitting down at the table, her eyes staring at the present in the middle of the table; her eyes sparkling. You smiled, walking back into the kitchen where Mike was already plating Abby's food. Pulling out two extra plates, you began plating yours and Mike's, peeking over at Mike who seemed to be becoming more and more nervous as he spooned spaghetti on the plate. Bumping your hip with his, you caught his eye, "You'll be fine. I have a plan." You whispered with a small grin, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek before bringing yours and Mike's plate to the table. Mike blinked, slowly walking over to the table, his cheeks tinged pink as he sat beside you.

Soon enough, the both of you were singing 'Happy Birthday' to Abby as Mike sat the cake down on the table in front of her. The candles, lit and aflame, flickered before being blown out, applause erupting from you and Mike as Abby made her wish after her birthday song. Chuckling softly to himself, Mike leaned forward on his forearms, "What did you wish for, Abs?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, "I can't tell you, silly."

Shaking his head in amusement, "Alright then. Cake or presents?" He then asked as you readied the cake knife and three small plates for the cake. 

"Presents!" Abby declared, beaming as Mike let out a small huff, smiling as he turned to you; you could see the nervousness in his eyes as he looked over at you.

Picking up the present, Mike moved the cake out of the way as you placed the present in its place, "Here you go, Abs," You spoke, gesturing for her to go ahead and open her gift. Mike watched beside you as Abby ripped the colorful wrapping paper off the cardboard box, pulling off the tape with amazing speed. He felt tense, hoping that she wouldn't hate him for not getting her a gift. Before his mind could run off anymore, he felt your hand cover his and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. Smiling at him, you squeezed his hand which made Mike's breath hitch as he felt an odd feeling well up inside his chest. Taking a deep breath, he gave you a small smile before turning back to Abby who gasped in shock.

"Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed, peering inside the box at the many goodies that were found within, looking up at you, she gave you a huge smile, "Thank you, Y/N!"

Mirroring her smile, you waved a hand, "Don't forget your brother, he helped pick out a couple of the items," Mike turned to look at you in surprise, causing you to chuckle under your breath.

Abby got out of her seat, rushing around to hug her brother tightly, "Thank you, Mike!" She thanked him, grinning widely at him.

"Anything for you, Abs," He said, patting her on the back. He turned to you as Abby went back to sit back down, digging around in the box; pulling out craft supplies, stuffed animals, and candy. Mike couldn't help but look at you with an awestruck expression on his face; this girl was too good to be true. "Thank you, Y/N."

Resting your cheek in your hand, you gave him your stunning smile, "Don't mention it."

Shaking his head slightly, Mike looked back at Abby who was already drawing with her new multi-colored markers in her brand-new notebook. 

[cakemoney]

okay this is very far from the real point but is the jurassic world dominion trailer telling me that ellie sattler and alan grant are no longer together? they broke up? they’re no longer close and in each other’s lives? son of a fucking bitch

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 3: Let's Have a Baby

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence and death (ofc), implied child loss Note: The much-awaited part 3 of The Captain! Thank you so much for all of your support! And don't y'all, Part 4 is brewing ;) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“Mohawk’s gettin’ particularly long, Johnny boy. When’s the last time you took any off the top?” Freyja asked, tugging at the end of a long strand at the back of his head.

“Dinnae dae that!” Soap whipped his head around and gave her a look of playful irritation. “If it weren’t for that wee barra in your belly I’d knock ya one, lass.”

“You wish, tough guy.”

“Just you wait, soon as y’return to full duty, we’ll have a square go, ye fuckin’ weapon.”

“I’ll block off my calendar.”

She and Soap had grown rather close since they all returned to England following the mission. As promised, Ghost spoke with Price, who convinced Kate to transfer her to the 141 permanently. While she was on desk duty for now, being on the same team would be tremendously helpful in keeping their schedules in sync. The couple could carpool to and from the base together, and John would do his best to keep them from being deployed at the same time.

Plus, she got to spend all her day with her friends and husband, which was a phenomenal change of pace from their previous setup. It was far less lonely being surrounded by the bustle of the busy base and having other friends to talk to besides Price.

They had a standing ‘play date’, as Price called it, every Friday night, where they watched movies, played board games, and ordered takeout. Board games usually ended in a heated exchange between her and whichever unlucky soul had crossed her (usually during Catan), her normally fiery temper heightened with each month of pregnancy that passed. There had been several instances of Ghost scooping her up in his arms and hauling her away to cool off before (any other) objects were lobbed at someone’s head.

One time, Freyja was in rare form when Gaz refused to trade for a material she desperately needed, and whipped a pointed dinner knife in his direction.

“What is with you guys and throwing bloody knives at me?!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air as Ghost dragged her off, screaming obscenities in various angry-sounding languages.

Soap jerked the blade out of the wall. “Dunno if I should be turned on or terrified,” he had said thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand. 

“BOTH, YOU SLIMY, CHEATING MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Catan was banned for a few weeks after that incident, and Freyja gave Kyle the following day off as an apology, though he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Freyja lowered herself into a chair on the other side of Soap’s desk and leaned her head on her fist, watching him do his paperwork. She’d already finished for the day but was waiting for her husband to fetch her and bring her home to prepare for another Friday with the boys.

“So, Captain, any big plans for this weekend?” Soap asked, still scribbling away at the stack of forms in front of him.

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Nah. It’s our anniversary on Sunday. Have a routine visit tomorrow to see how the baby’s growing. Nothing crazy.”

“Anniversary?! You didn’t tell me that was comin’ up!”

Her eyes rolled with a chuckle. “Soap, we aren’t showy people. Never have been,” she started, adjusting to sit straighter after having slid down in the chair a bit. Her round belly had started to weigh down her body a few weeks back, and she was starting to feel the effects of back and neck pain. “We weren’t together for very long when we got engaged, if you’d even call it that. We got married a few days later, as soon as we got back to the UK. Didn’t want to waste time, given our line of work.”

Johnny laughed at this, tossing his pen into a mug he fashioned as a stationary holder. “Oh, I’d bet he just loved slappin’ his name after ‘Captain’, too,” he joked with a raised brow.

The image of a spinning circle on a computer came to mind because that was exactly what she was doing. Buffering, her mouth open slightly while she processed his comment. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but nothing came out as she stared at the Sergeant.

He clearly picked up on her inner turmoil, because he asked, “What? What’d I say?”

Goddamn pregnancy brain. “Ah…Nothing. He didn’t like me taking his name, actually,” she mostly muttered, unable to find a way out of the conversation at this point. “He asked me not to change my name and I did it anyway.”

“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t Ghost want ya to change yer name?”

Freyja sighed as she rubbed a hand over the top of her bump, a recent habit for comfort. The baby hadn’t been particularly active that day, only offering a bit of shifting. “You’d have to ask him, John.”

She rarely called him John, so he knew the conversation was over on her part. “How’s your back?” Best to change the subject and move on. 

She was grateful for it. “Terrible. Even sitting here is bothering me.”

Soap lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. “I can do that thing I saw Ghost doin’ last week!” He was already in front of her before she could even answer.

He had been relentless ever since he caught their cute little private moment in the kitchen when she was supposed to be getting herself some fruit to snack on. Simon followed shortly after, offering to get her fruit bowl together for her so she could sit down again. Craving some semblance of independence, she instead offered to cut up her snack while her husband took some of the weight off her back.

“Walked myself right into that one. You just want an excuse to grope my belly.”

“Me? Never! M’offended that y’would say such a thing, Bonnie,” he feigned hurt feelings, pouting with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, fine! Come’ere, I’ll show you,” she laughed, high up in her chest. Freyja pulled herself up with his hands and moved them to the more open space in his office. “Alright, so I’m gonna stand here—“ She turned to press her back against his chest and took his wrist in her hands. “—then you just wanna put your hands flat like this—“ She flattened his palms just under the swell of her stomach, by each point of her pelvis. “—and now you carefully pull up. Emphasis on carefully.”

She groaned at the sudden relief, her head falling back against Soap’s shoulder as he just barely lifted her stomach. 

“There w’are. Steamin’ Jesus, how’s such a wee thing so bloody heavy?”

“Yeah, now imagine carrying that around with your back twenty-four-seven.”

They stood silently for a minute, soaking in the relief from the lack of pressure on her disks. A small hand dragged across the underside of her stomach, pressing against Soap’s hand. His chest rumbled against her back, but he held steady.

“Will anyone be coming for a visit? When she’s born?” It was bold of him to bring up such a sensitive subject, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“No.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

“I have everyone I need right here, Johnny. Who else outside my husband would give my back a break and hold my giant belly?” She reached back to jokingly slap his cheek a few times.

“Where’s that husband o’ yours at? It’s gettin’ late.”

A soft knock on the open door had her turning her head. “I’m comin’, Jesus,” Ghost said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, t-shirt tight as ever. He took in her smiling form, intrigued by the scene in front of him. He smiled beneath his mask, eyes crinkling slightly. “How are my girls?”

Freyja flinched, a hand flying to her belly at the sharp kick. She sported an angry pout. “Ow! That hurt, you little–”

“Be nice. She can’t help that I’m her favorite.”

She pulled out of Soap’s hold, sad to lose the help on one hand, but thrilled to see Simon on the other. “You’re so obnoxious. I’m literally creating her organs and limbs, making sure she has ten fingers and toes, and I don’t get so much as a single hand or kick. But the second she hears your stupid voice, she’s suddenly an MMA fighter,” she complained, shoving at his shoulder. “Un-fucking-believable. I hate you.”

“Mmm, sure you do. How will I ever get back in your good graces?”

“I want Chinese tonight.”

“I think I can manage that.” Ghost bent down to gently, but briefly, touch his forehead to hers, one of their familiar gestures to refrain from more overt displays of affection on base. She would occasionally give him a peck over his skull mask, and they often shared passing touches, but neither partner was a huge fan of PDA. In the comfort of their own home, they were much more obvious, even around the other members of the team. Just not on base (save for a quick romp. Or two. Or– y’know what, never mind).

“Aw, lookit ya wee sook,” Soap cooed, nudging Ghost with his elbow as he walked past, gathering his things to head home.

She giggled and patted Simon’s pec. “He really is!”

Simon grumbled but guided Freyja to the door with a hand on her lower back. “If you lot keep talkin’ nonsense around me, I’ll pop a gasket.”

“It’s not nonsense, Simon. It’s a beautiful language. One that your people just so happened to smother into near extinction,” she sang, pursing her lips in a challenge as she looked up at him walking next to her.

“OOO, sick burn, lass!” Soap smacked their hands together, laughing heartily.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

~*~

Simon checked the time on his phone again with a deep sigh, shaking his head. He detested getting to work anything past ten minutes early, and it was currently five past six. Freyja had told him to go ahead and toss their baby bag in the car, which he had done ten minutes ago. He insisted they keep their ‘go-bag’ (her word, not his) with them, either in the car on errands or on base during the work week.

The area around their front door was littered with broken-down cardboard boxes from various toys and furniture from the nursery. The Task Force had turned out to be extremely generous uncles, to the point where the Rileys hardly had to buy anything. Johnny and Gaz were by far the worst listeners, continuing to purchase mountains of clothes long after Freyja and Ghost begged them to stop. Enough clothes that she would never have to wear the same outfit twice for the first year of her life.

Not even born yet and already spoiled rotten.

Her boots weren’t in the tray by the door, so she must have gotten to that part of her routine, at least. He pushed off the door frame in their entryway, making his way toward the living room. “Frey, what are you doin’? We’re already five minutes late–”

He cut himself off when he laid eyes on the sight in front of him – his wife, now 39 weeks pregnant, attempting to contort her body around her bump to lace up her boots. Simon allowed himself a moment to watch in amusement before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention. “Do you need help?” he asked, about to kneel in front of her.

She grunted and shook her head, then tried to smooth the mussed-up fly-aways that had started to poke up at the edges of her tied-back hair. “No, I can do this. I just did it on Friday.”

“Darling, that was three days ago. There’s no shame in askin’ for help–” He stopped again at the icy glare thrown his way, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat in the armchair across from her. “A’right, if you insist.” He had long noticed that she sometimes struggled to accept help with tasks she could normally complete on her own, if not for a protruding bump being in the way. He knew if she really needed help, she would ask.

This time, she propped the heel of her boot on the coffee table and attempted to stretch over her belly. She was proud of the strength and flexibility she had been able to maintain throughout her entire pregnancy, up until now. Not many people could say they could even see their feet this far into their pregnancy, let alone tie their shoes. After another minute of huffing and puffing, fingers just barely unable to graze the laces, she held her foot out to her watchful husband and sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled, crossed arms mimicking his.

He smiled softly under his mask, blue eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he slid to his knees at her feet, pressing the sole into his chest. “Thank you,” he praised, taking his time to focus on doing her shoes up at the tightness she liked to support her ankles, but allow breathing room at her calves. As he finished up the second foot, he heard a quiet sniffle and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

Bloody hell, not the waterworks again…

He gently pushed her legs apart and settled between them, his gloved hands covering and rubbing her knees. “What’s wrong, love?”

Freyja wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then used the neckline of her t-shirt to swipe at her wet cheeks. “Nothing, I’m just annoyed. Feels like I can barely function on my own.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who insisted on working until she’s born.”

“Fuck you.”

“Promise?”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she scoffed. 

Ghost pulled his mask up to his nose, just enough to steal a long, soft kiss from her, fingers still gripping her thighs. When they broke apart, he swooped down to press wet kisses on her belly. Freyja put the fabric back in place with deft fingers. “A’right, we sorted?” He smacked her thigh twice when she nodded and offered her hands to help her stand. “Good, you know how I am about bein’ late.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be an early bird like her daddy.”

“Better than always being late like her mum.”

“Low blow, baby. Low blow.”

They made jabs at each other back and forth the entire ride to base (lovingly, of course) and during their walk to their offices, only pausing for the occasional passerby.

~*~

Kyle handed off a steaming mug of tea to Ghost, taking a small sip of his own as they watched the recruits spar with Soap. Most days, the three of them worked with the privates for a few hours, varying from marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, etcetera. Ghost tugged his mask up enough to enjoy his caffeine, the steam dampening the wrinkled fabric.

“How was your weekend, Ghost?”

He hid his subtle smirk behind the cup, the memory of their anniversary evening at the forefront of his mind. Ghost met Gaz’s gaze with a side eye, to which the Sergeant snorted with a throaty chuckle. Gaz fixed the brim of his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun better. “Shouldn’t have asked,” he said, a bright, cheeky grin on his face. “Change the subject.”

Ghost thought back to that morning, snickering himself and cradling the mug with both hands. “Frey couldn’t tie her boots this morning.” He tried to hide his amusement, he really did. But both men burst into deep laughter, Gaz shamefully covering his eyes with his free hand as he imagined the Captain working around her stomach.

“Bloody hell, poor thing.” When they finally composed themselves, Kyle took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He sighed and placed his now empty mug on the ground, his hands now hanging onto the lip of his tactical vest. The Brit observed the training session, occasionally glancing over at Ghost to gauge his mood. Maybe he should mind his business, but Gaz also wanted to be a good friend to the Rileys. In the end, he decided to take the plunge. “I see it, y’know,” he said, choosing a careful tone.

Simon turned his head fully to shoot him a probing look, urging him to continue.

Gaz sighed to himself. In too deep, now. “Just something I’ve noticed. Seems like she’s done this before, s’all.”

Damn Kyle Garrick and his perceptiveness. How long had the Sergeant been sitting on that thought, watching and observing her mannerisms? Simon stood staring blankly at his companion, unblinking for too long. His heart clenched painfully, twisting and beating violently against his ribs. When his eyes did finally come back into focus, he covered his face again. “As you were, Sergeant,” he commanded, his tone stern and unyielding. Neither of them noticed the Scot break away from the recruits, reading a text from his phone.

“I don’t mean to pry, sir–”

“Lt?” Soap held the device up, brows knotted together. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide his emotions and was concerned. “Price needs ya, sir. Said he’s pretty sure yer wife’s been in labor for the last hour.”

The trio quickly appeared in her office, where she sat behind her desk, beads of sweat on her forehead as she typed away at her computer. John shrugged helplessly and then scratched at the stubble under his chin. About an hour into their daily morning meeting, where he brought her peppermint tea while they worked over files and potential recruits. They were mid-discussing her scheduled c-section when he noticed her breaths sporadically shake, or the muscles in her arms tightening for seemingly no reason. Price asked her if she was okay and was brushed off every time he prodded at her; when he finally had enough, he decided to call for reinforcements.

Freyja glared at the men, mainly aiming it at Price. “Traitor,” she growled, continuing to work through another contraction.

Simon tossed the keys to their car to Price, who swiftly snagged them out of the air and slipped behind them. In the meantime, he tucked his mask into the back pocket of his jeans, his slightly overgrown blonde hair and the top of his head sticking up. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her as she attempted to ignore his presence. His foot slipped a little on the floor, and he found a small puddle trickling across the floor from the space under her chair. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked, impossibly soft and gentle for a usually deep, gruff military man.

“No.” She was an accomplished sniper and a skilled linguist and had been deployed on hundreds of special missions, interrogations, and rescues during her military tenure. She, however, wasn’t very convincing when it came to lying to her husband, especially when another sharp pain rippled through her body, forcing her to flinch.

“Wanna try that again?”

Her eyes watered uncontrollably, her lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together. The notion didn’t last long, and her head shook from side to side.

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“Hm.” Simon turned her chair with his shin until she faced him. As he suspected, dark wetness was creeping up the fabric of her jeans. “We should get going then, yeah?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as she grabbed his hand in a fierce grip.

“Simon–” The woman choked on her tears, panic starting to claw its way up her stomach and wrenching her tight throat. “The OB’s out of the country,” she whimpered, barely a whisper.

“I know. Seems that she’s taken after her old man, like y’said,” he offered in an attempt to give her some comedic relief in her state. Simon could see the panic attack set in, and while he knew he couldn’t stop it, he could at least lessen its effects some.

“I was kidding.”

He smiled softly at her and squeezed her palm, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. “Don’t think she’s quite old enough for sarcasm, there, sweetheart.” He got down to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, just under eye level now instead of towering over her. A familiar position for them as of late. “Looks like we’re doin’ this the old-fashioned way.”

She started crying hysterically now, nearly crushing his hand and cradling her belly. “Simon…I–”

“I know.”

It was as if their audience had completely disappeared, leaving just the two of them for what should be a private moment. But Soap and Gaz were still pressed to the wall by the door. In the months they had become close friends with Simon’s wife, she was almost always composed, her moments of hormonal rage the only outlier they witnessed. They’d never seen her such a panicked, blubbering mess, but Gaz had an idea he knew what it was about, even without specifics. For that reason, he chose to keep his distance and advised Soap to do the same with a tap to the shoulder.

“This–This isn’t the plan. I wanted…they’re supposed to take her out. I don’t want to push again.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to.”

“Can’t we just–” A gasp cut her off, her features pinching together in pain while she rode out yet another contraction.

“No. We can’t.”

“I can’t do this again, Simon! I can’t!” Her chest heaved and she sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. Panic attacks had become more frequent during her pregnancy. There had been about five or six instances where an odd feeling or uncomfortable pain had anxiety washing over her, sending her into a spiral until they could get to an emergency room or OB, snapping at them to ‘just fucking check, for fuck’s sake’. This was definitely one of the worst. All of her meticulous planning, down to every nitty-gritty detail to ensure she didn’t have an episode went right out the window because a certain impatient Riley was eager to make her exit and simultaneous entrance to the world.

The world was collapsing around her, dark and suffocating. The cold pit dragged her back to what seemed like another life, where she lay curled up in a hospital bed, sick and hot and in the worst agony she would ever experience. Her bones burned and ached, struggling to sit still yet unable to move at the same time. Price’s phantom touch ghosted up and down her bare back in that place, brushed her sticky hair off her forehead, pressed a cold towel to her neck as violent sobs and forced, unnatural contractions tore through her—

She blinked when different, gloved hands slipped under her hair, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the material as he cradled her face. Her fingers slipped down to dig into his tattooed wrist. “You can, and you will. Take a breath,” he took a deep breath, guiding her through the exercise. He held the air in his chest before letting it out in a slow exhale, which she mimicked. Ghost summoned Gaz over and rose, pulling her up with him. “Good girl. Can you walk?”

When she nodded, Kyle slipped into the space beside her, offering his forearm for support. She knew Simon could have handled her himself, but it warmed her heart to see him leaning on their friends. John had been a great support system when Simon deployed on his own, but having so many hands to hold made her feel loved and understood.

“A’right then, let’s have a baby, yeah?”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[justmeinadaze]

Aftercare Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I had an extremely ugh day (couple of days actually) so Ive been living in this fic, writing it out lol Enjoy it <3. I feel safe with them.

Part One Here

Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!) , Spanking, DP, mentions of previous bad past relationships for the reader, Smut and fluff. No angst today my friends.

Word Count: 4275

It had been a few days since your tender incident with your roommates Eddie and Steve. The day after they took care of you, you found yourself incredibly sore, not just between your legs but your ass and wrists as well. 

The continued to look after you, changing your bandages and icing the swollen area of your limbs. Today they both had to work so your plan for the rest of the afternoon was to put on one of Steve’s shirts and cocoon yourself in Eddie’s bed while you waited for them to come home.  

As you entered Steve’s room, you found yourself looking at it with a completely new set of eyes. The smell of his cologne hung in the air making you dizzy as your memory floated to him sitting on the edge of the bathtub caressing your thighs. Your fingers ran across his dresser as your grinned at the pictures you passed of the three of you together. On his desk were some applications for jobs he had been looking at including one at his father’s firm but thankfully he hadn’t filled that out yet and you hoped he never would. 

Yellow notepad paper caught your eye and you reached over to bring it closer to you so you could read it. 

Sexy things I think Y/N would enjoy:

Spanking (The correct way!)

Restriction/ Handcuffs (Eddie may have some that won’t hurt her.)

Daddy? (This is more for me and Ed. I know it turned me on hearing her talk like she did.)

DP ( I think she’d love to have us both inside her especially with how fucking tight she is…) 

I know she said she likes it rough. Eddie said he had some ideas of things he did with other girls. I don’t think she wants us to really hurt her…I don’t know. I should ask her…

Edging ( I just want to hear her beg me in that little voice to allow her to cum)

Role play? (She loves scary movies. I bet she’d love Eddie and I pretending to stalk her and then using her.)(Seriously that thought got me ridiculously hard!)

You smiled as you read his list. The men you tried this dynamic with were always pretty selfish, focusing on their own pleasure instead of yours. Steve seemed to genuinely care about you and your feelings; they both did and always had. 

Picking up a nearby pen you scrawled a note of your own on the bottom. 

All of these sound fantastic, Stevie! Or should I say Daddy? ;).

Reaching into his closet you grabbed one of his button up shirts, giggling as you wrapped in around your naked skin. He was so much bigger than you were, his shirt feeling like a nightgown as it touched past your knees. It made you feel safe, as if he was there right now with his arms around you. 

You pleasantly sighed as you left and headed to Eddie’s room. The metalhead was night to Steve’s day. Where Steve’s room was neat and organized, Ed’s was a complete disaster. His room had a cologne smell like the other boys but it was hidden under is signature smell of cigarettes with a dash of weed.

Even the pictures he had of you three were slightly different. All of Steve’s were from outside in the sun whether it be at the beach or a school event you guys had attended in high school. Eddie’s were from nighttime activities like after one of his shows at the bar or a heavy metal concert outside of town. 

You grinned as your finger’s ran over his guitar. God, you loved watching him play. The way his eyes zeroed in as he focused on the notes or the way his fingers moved across the strings… Fuck. A small moan left you at the memory of those same fingers thrusting inside of you. 

As you sat on his bed, one of his composition books bent into your thigh. You opened it expecting to find doodles and notes on his next D & D campaign but were surprised to see song titles. 

Y/N’s Mixtape 

No One Like You- Scorpions

Little Lover- AC/DC

Rock Me- Great White

Why am I not better at this?! 

I don’t want them all to be sexual! I need to ask the guys. 

-Learn to play Def Leppard 

I want to play a song for her on stage and I know she likes them.

Photograph or maybe Animal?

Not Pour Some Sugar! Too cliché!

It took you awhile to find anything to write with in Eddie’s room so you settled on a marker you found under a pile of clothes. 

“You got some kinda hold on me You're all wrapped up in mystery So wild and free So far from me You're all I want, my fantasy.”

Your grin grew as you turned on his stereo and Metallica lightly flowed through the speakers. Finding a spot in the middle of his bed, you curled up into a ball, hugging his composition book to your chest as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

##############

The bed dipped by your side, followed by the notebook gently being pulled from your grasp. 

“Did she write something in it to?”

You kept your eyes closed so you could hear what they would say when they thought you weren’t listening. You could hear the subtle smile in Steve’s tone as he asked Eddie his question who responded with an equally happy sounding voice. 

“Yeah, she did.”

“What does yours say?”

You felt a calloused palm tenderly pet your head, pushing your hair out of your face. 

“I wanted to play something on stage for her. I thought she deserved something special after what she went through…has been through with those other assholes. She provided a suggestion.”, he grinned. “What about yours?”

“Shit, dude. What I was working on wasn’t as romantic as yours.”, Steve chuckles. “I, uh, wrote down some things I thought she’d like to try…in bed, you know? Especially since no one seems to be doing it correctly. I still can’t believe she didn’t know what aftercare was.”

“Yeah…what did she write? Hell, what did YOU write?!”, Eddie laughs at his friend. 

“She said she liked them all especially, um, calling us Daddy.” The bed gradually dipped on your other side as he lowered his voice. “Dude, that little voice she spoke to us in—fuck—I’ve been jerking off to that sound for the past few days.”

You tried so hard to hold it in but it was impossible to catch the heavy, pleasure filled sigh that escaped your lips. 

“Hey Harrington, did your list mention touching her while she slept?”

“Naw, Ed, it didn’t. I think this sweet girl would hate that we made her feel good and she wasn’t awake for it.”

“Very true. We can think of it like a punishment for snooping around our rooms and taking your shirt without asking.”

“I wasn’t snooping.”

“Oh shit, Munson. Would you look at that. She’s awake.” You slowly open your eyes to meet their beautiful smiling faces. 

“I just wanted to be close to you guys since you were both gone.” Sitting up, you lean your cheek on Eddie’s shoulder. “I missed you two.”

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You excitedly flash them your wrists. “Much better! And I can definitely sit normally now.”, you giggle.

“Did that prick call you?” Steve sighed when you shook your head. 

“Probably won’t come around again until he’s horny.”

“Well, he’ll have to go through us so…” A wicked grin spread across Eddie’s face when he noticed you exhale again. “You really like us being protective over you, don’t you?”

“I like knowing that I’m safe and cared for.” Your head hung in shame. “I’ve never felt that before.”

Steve’s fingers hooked under your chin, lifting you to face them. “You’re always safe with us. We would never make you feel unwanted or unloved.”

That giddy feeling from the other day returned at his words as you shuffled your shoulders and beamed with pride.

“Can-Can we play?”

The metalhead chuckled as he turned to Steve. “She’s so polite. I love it. Which makes me wonder…Y/N, were those other guys just hitting you to hit you? Like with your idiot, why did he spank you with a belt?”

Your eyes narrow at him as his choice of words for your now ex-boyfriend. “I told him I wanted to try something rougher so he said he could spank me.”

“But that’s not you, is it, sweetheart? I mean you’re not into that sado-masochistic stuff. No judgement if you are.”, he grins. 

“No, I don’t want to be hurt like that. I just…like being controlled… and punished if I do something wrong.”

“Like going through our stuff when we aren’t here.”, Steve replied.

“I wasn’t going through your things! I just—”

Eddie interrupted you by roughly grabbing your jaw. “Didn’t sound like to me he was asking but telling you that you did something incorrect. For a pretty girl that’s so polite, you should know it’s not ok to touch other people’s property when they aren’t there.”

The action of him grabbing you and talking the way he was had your pussy clenching as you felt yourself slowly dropping. 

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I did a bad thing.”

“It’s okay, honey. You’ll learn.” Steve smiled as the metalhead loosened his grip. His eyes were constantly scanning your face for any discomfort. You seemed to be enjoying yourself so far so Eddie continued. 

“Do you have a safe word you prefer?”

“I usually use Red. I mean, I haven’t used it yet but…”

“Tough girl. Can I ask you something and I want you to be honest?”

“Yes of course.”

“Have you wanted to but you felt embarrassed? You said last time that fucker hit you too hard sometimes. Why didn’t you use it?”

“It’s not that I feel embarrassed… I don’t want to seem weak…”

They both heavily sighed but Steve couldn’t help himself as he climbed further up the bed and collected you in his arms. 

“Y/N, we know you’ve been through a lot. Not just with guys but with your family to. You’re not weak if you need to stop because you feel uncomfortable.”

“Promise us, princess. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or anything like that, you will say that safe word. No matter what we will still love you.”

“I promise.” To add emphasis and lighten the mood you do the “cross my heart” gesture along your chest making them laugh.

Eddie crawled up the bed as well till he was shoulder to shoulder with Steve. “What do you think, Harrington? Should we let this descension slide just this one time?

“I mean, little girl needs to learn the rules and respect us, right?”

“I-I respect you…”, you mumble. 

“Hm. I don’t know, baby. Maybe just a small punishment, Munson. Just to let it really sink in.”

The man nods and motions for you lay your head on his lap, adjusting you so you stomach was across the other man’s thighs and your ass accessible. Steve tugs your panties down your legs, gently running his palm over the soft flesh. 

“These cuts do look a lot better, Y/N. You said they don’t hurt anymore?”

You shook you head aggressively before responding in a tone that had both boys subtly groaning. “Eddie took really good care of me.” 

“Yeah, he did.” A small yelp left your throat as his hand came down on your backside. It wasn’t hard but meant to tease while making sure you were okay. “How did that feel, honey?”

The metalhead brushed back your hair from your face as your nails dug into his jeaned leg. 

“Good. S-s-so good.”, you moaned. “You can spank me harder i-if you want to.”

Steve didn’t do it immediately, choosing to run his hands along your skin before finally rearing back and delivering a much harder smack that had you pushing up on your arms. 

“Do you like that, princess? Do you like Steve spanking you?”

Your eyes practically roll out of your skull as he does it again a bit harder. “F-fuck, yes I like it.”

“Say it correctly, babe.”

*SMACK*

“Mmm—I like Steve spanking me.”

“Jesus… here, Y/N. Don’t…don’t move.”

The man slides out from under you and you hear sounds behind you of him shuffling around before something clanks loudly to the floor. 

“Again, didn’t take long for Harrington to get naked.”, Eddie chuckles making you smile as he continues to play with your hair. 

Your hips are abruptly lifted so your lower half is more exposed for him on your knees as he firmly spanks you again before his tongue suddenly licks between your folds. 

“Steve! Oh my god…”

“It’s ok, baby. You’re ok. Remember, you’re safe with us.”, Eddie coos. “As sexy as you look, I’m going to slide this shirt off you.” 

You lift up on your hands again, helping pull Steve’s shirt over your head as the boy behind you continues to aggressively devour you, moaning into your cunt as he strokes his length. 

Pulling back, his palm comes down on your ass and you mewl as your head falls back down to Eddie’s lap. One of his hands reach underneath you to grab a handful of your breast as the other pushes his tongue back inside of you. 

“You really are so beautiful, sweet girl. You deserve to be treated right.” His fingers caress your nipples causing you to moan as he gently tugs on the erect bud. “Do you want that? Do you want us to take care of you and make you happy?”

“You…you both have—fuck—have always made me…happy.”

Your answer genuinely makes him smile. “Not like this, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent whimper as you cum, body collapsing as you twitch with pleasure. Sighing, you feel yourself being lifted and wrapped up in Steve’s embrace again. Your eyes remain shut as you inhale him, forehead pressed to his neck as they both tenderly praise you. 

“I want you both…to feel me at…at the same time. I don’t think it’s fair for the first time we’re together one of you has me first.”

“Who said we were going to fuck you tonight?” Your eyes meet Eddie’s playful ones, glimmering with mischief. “I mean, you misbehaved and then, I don’t know about you Stevie, but…” He obnoxiously stretches his arms wide. “I had a LONG, stressful day.”

“I did to, Ed. There were so many rude customers and we were SO busy. I kept thinking ‘Gosh I can’t wait to come home and just crash on my bed ALL ALONE.’”

“Oh, come on! Like you haven’t been thinking about fucking me for the past few days.” You crawl off Steve’s lap and climb into Eddie’s, straddling his waist. “I have ever since I saw you both naked. I kept thinking ‘How could I have known these men for so long, lived under the same roof even, and had no idea their cocks were that big.’”

The boy underneath you exhaled through his nose at your words, feeling his dick get unbearably hard against his jeans. Your palms glided down his chest, raising off his shirt before leaning forward to place delicate kisses along his shoulders and neck. 

“Please, Eddie. You both deserve to feel good to. Make me yours.”

The metalhead practically growled as he crashed his lips to your own. Effortlessly, he lifted you off him, passing you to Steve who was more than happy to pick up where his friend left off. 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Not at one time. I have had anal but…”

The man’s fingers tenderly lift your chin. “It didn’t feel good?”

Your own fingers run through his hair as you place a kiss on his lips. “Not with him but I trust you two.”

Steve grinned as he held on to your waist, shifting his body down the bed till he was flat on his back. A now naked Eddie pounced back onto the mattress making you laugh before licking your lips as you watch him pour some lube into his hand and stroke it along his cock. 

“You ready, honey?”

You nod as Steve grips the base of his own cock, allowing you to descend onto it at your own pace. Even with just the tip of him inside of you already full.

“Steve…fuck…”, you moaned, lowering yourself further. 

“Yes, baby, you’re doing so good. Just…take your time. Y/N, I…”

“T-tell me, please.”

“I’ve never felt a pussy this fucking tight before. Fuck me, Ed. You don’t even know what you’re about to experience.” His words had you fluttering around him making him groan until you were fully seated on top of him. “Don’t fucking move. I swear I don’t know how long I’m going to last.” His newfound gruff tone had you clenching again, leaning forward on your hands as Eddie gently pushed you down.

“Oh yeah? You like hearing me tell you what to do?”

Steve watched as your face scrunched together as Eddie gradually began pushing his dick into your ass. 

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted under his breath. 

The other man grabbed your throat, pulling you closer to his face. “I asked you a question, little girl. You want to play rough you have to show respect. Now…” They both thrust their hips into you roughly at the same time eliciting an obscenely beautiful moan from your lips as your forehead fell on his. “Do you like hearing me telling you what to do?”

“Y-yes, Steve. I-I-I like it.”

His hand snaked around to the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his as they began thrusting into you. Eddie’s palm slid up your back, intertwining his fingers in your hair as he yanked it back. 

Steve looked up at you with half-lidded eyes swearing he had never seen anything or anyone so perfect. He had always hated the way people in your life treated you. To him, you deserved the world but he had always been so scared to make a move. He was terrified of losing you and at least as your friend and roommate he could keep an eye on you, protecting you while being there when you needed him. 

Eddie spanked you hard and you whimpered at the feeling as he leaned over you to kiss along your shoulder; his ear closer to your lips so we could absorb those gorgeous sounds coming from them. The metalhead struggled to get along with anyone but could always connect with you and Steve. You always made him feel like a person and not the freak everyone thought he was. There was that level of insecurity within him though that felt you could do better than him. He always wanted to tell you how much he truly loved you but, like Steve, was so scared of losing you. 

Truth be told, they needed you as much as you needed them. 

“Fuck me…I’m gonna fucking cum. Do-do you feel comfortable with us—”

“Yes!”, you cut Steve off. “Fuck yes—mmm—please. Fill me up, Daddy.”

“God fucking hell—”, his voice strained as he tightly gripped your hips, trusting into you roughly as his spend released inside of you. 

Eddie wrapped his arm around your chest, pulling you up against his own as his fingers reached between your legs to rub your clit. 

“Cum, pretty girl. Fucking squeeze us both as fucking hard as you do. Come on, baby.” He kept urging you as he pumped faster.

“What-what should I—fuck—call you? Are you Daddy to?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, princess. As long as you do what I say.”

Your arms clung to his as you placed your lips against his ear. “I know—mmm—you’re an amazing…dungeon master. Do-do you want to be my master to?”

The moan that left his throat was too much for you as your eyes closed and you came. Eddie soon followed, pounding into you roughly till he grunted against your skin and released his seed inside of you. 

The three of you collapsed on the bed, panting as you tried to catch your breaths. As Steve started to stand however, you quickly reached for his arm. 

“Don’t leave!”

“Whoa! Hey, honey, it’s ok. I’m not leaving. I was just going to get something to clean you with because I assumed you wanted to lay here for a little bit before taking a shower.”

He could still see the panic in your eyes until Eddie’s arm slid under yours and pulled you tighter against his sweaty chest. “It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m right here. You’re not alone.”

“Did you wanna take a shower now?” The metalhead chuckles as you nod, Steve smiling as he lifts you into his arms. “Maybe we should do it like this till she gets more comfortable.”

“I’m sorry.”, you pout; afraid your making things too difficult.

“Baby, there’s no reason to be sorry. Now, Eddie, on the other hand should be sorry for how much of mess this fucking bathroom is.”

Said boy who had been getting the shower ready, stood to his full height and playfully squinted at his friend. “Excuse me. Rude. I like my bathroom. I know where everything is.”

“Yeah, on the floor.”

You giggle at their banter as you step into the tub. “I don’t mind your bathroom, Ed.”

“THANK YOU, princess.”

After both men follow you in, you stand still allowing them to clean and take care of you. There was a vast difference between this time and last time. The biggest one being while they had been rough with you there wasn’t any lingering intense pain. You ass stung where they had spanked you but it was a good burn that had you softly sigh as you leaned back against Steve’s chest. 

You were already sore between your legs and your ass but it was a dull, lingering pain that you knew would have you constantly thinking about them and how good they made you feel. 

That garbage feeling you had come to know after each sexual encounter wasn’t present here. All their attention was on you and as they continued to care for you, you felt your brain slowly return and leave that previous headspace you were in. They never pushed you or made you feel rushed. Because you had felt so heavy and collapsed in his arms last time, Eddie always kept his hand or arm on your waist just in case. 

If you happened to feel that clingy impulse, you would rub your nose into Steve’s chest and he would smile softly as he held you to him. After you and they were clean, they quickly dried you, shoved a shirt over your head, and jokingly tossed you back into bed.

Eddie chose to remain naked, lighting a cigarette as Steve thew on some boxers before laying on either side of you. 

“Fuck. Look at me being a dick. Y/N, is it ok if I smoke this close to you?”

“It’s fine, Ed. I don’t mind.”, you grin. There was a comfortable silence that feel over the room as you laid together. Your smile grows as you place your hand on Steve’s chest. “Um, so I’ve never done roleplay or any other punishment type stuff before but I’m opening to trying anything you suggest. Just nothing too violent… like don’t punch me or anything.”

“Who wanted to punch you?!”

“No one! I just… I’m still learning…”

“Sweetheart, no one should be punching or kicking you.” Eddie raised his arm and you lifted your head to rest on top of it. “Did you like what we did here?”

“Yeah!”, you exclaim a bit too excitedly making them chuckle. “I, um, I didn’t hate the belt with my ex. I just—he just—”

“It’s too hard. Y/N, is that your way of saying you’d like to add that into our thing here?”, Steve smiles coyly. 

“I think as long as I’m with you two, I’ll like anything you try.”

Eddie squished the cigarette into the ashtray, rolling onto his side to face you. “Is it ok if we try, maybe, taking you out to dinner or a movie?”

“Eddie, of course. I love hanging out with you guys.”

“That’s not what he means, honey.”

“Oh…”

“Before you said you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing but you didn’t actually say if—”

“You wanted to be our girl or just do this.”, the man gestures around the bed. 

You scoot your body further down the mattress and grab Eddie’s cheeks as you place your lips on his. As you roll over, you do the same with Steve before settling down fully in the metalhead’s embrace. 

“’Our girl?’ Is this the 60’s? Are you going to give me your jacket pin, Steve Harrington?”, you teased. 

“If that’s what you want, pretty girl. Hell, I’ll do whatever I have to do to show the world how much I love you.” His tone dropped to a more serious register as he reached out to caress your cheek. “WE love you.”

Eddie lightly gripped your jaw, turning you to face him. “We do. Now I don’t have a jacket pin but I can tattoo my name on you somewhere.”

“No!”, you laugh as his fingers tickle up your sides. “I love you to. I’d love to be your girl."

[kaffiko]

a risky game

pairing - tom cruise x fem!reader summary - after your friend on set tells you she likes tom, you realise that they can't happen, because you like tom, and you know you need to confess your feelings before it's too late. warnings - a dash of angst, but mostly just fluff word count - 2.1k a/n - first fic! can you spot the tiniest jerry maguire reference?

you recalled the first time you'd met tom cruise. he was so incredibly handsome. his large, deep, green eyes and his shiny brunette hair... he was majestic. not only was he dazzling, but tom was driven and talented. when he introduced himself, shaking your hand, his voice was deep and charismatic.

although you had worked with many huge movie stars throughout your career, none of them came close to the way tom made you feel. he wanted you to be comfortable, like you were made to be a part of the cast. it was one of his ideas to make the movie a more authentic experience. you supposed that was why you never acted on your feelings. he was determined, and focused on his career. it seemed as if tom could never be interested in a relationship with someone on set.

as the filming continued, you kept your feelings towards tom bottled up inside you. you talked to him completely out of professionalism. of course, you didn't want to be awkward around him, so you told him stories of your family, your career, and he did the same. you learned so many amazing things about him, his family, how he raised up into the industry. the only thing that did was make you want him more. but you knew, attraction was a risky game.

tom was kind to everyone, though he had a special spot for you. he'd had many lead roles with various actresses, who were all beautiful and charming, but they weren't even close to being in the same vicinity as you. he knew you were oblivious to it, but you were on his mind twenty-four-seven, no one else. the first day tom laid eyes on you, shook your hand, saw your beautiful smile, he knew he had fallen for you. he was entranced by your gorgeous y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair, your slight pink cheeks, everything. to him, everything about you was flawless.

as much as tom wanted you, he knew he could never have you. he was a couple years older than you, and so immensely famous that everyone he'd ever been with was scared of the news circulating them. tom didn't ever want that to happen to you.

consequently, the two of you kept your feelings for each other to yourselves. exchanging glances, smiles, and small talk was all you could ever do.

now, you find yourself in tom's arms. his shirt is off, with you still fully clothed, though both your lips were puffy and pink from the previous kiss, make-out, whatever you want to call it, scene. it was heavenly. kissing tom was exactly how you envisioned it, like having a taste of something delicious, but you had to share it with your sibling. his lips were soft on yours, but the kiss was rough. your hands ran through his fluffy hair, melting completely into him. meanwhile, tom's left hand was placed firmly on your waist, while his right was moving up and down your body. you swore you heard him groan into your mouth at one point.

tom, himself, the director, and the producers loved the scene, but tom loved it on a whole other level, and in a completely different way. having your lips on his felt like a dream that he wanted to last forever. after that scene, tom loved you even more, if that was even possible.

your makeup artist, hanna, would often give you a lecture on how you should confess to tom. she knew everything about everyone, including how the two of you were apparently 'head over heels' for one another. hanna was the same makeup artist for almost everyone, since they wanted to spend more money on sets instead of makeup, so she was on top of all the gossip. half the time, you were still part asleep, so you paid no attention. that is, until she mentioned someone else was soon going to shoot her shot.

"i'm sorry, what?!" you semi-yelled, fully aware there were other actors still getting ready. your makeup artist nodded at you.

"yep. little miss lindsay turner is going to go for your man! you can't let that happen, can you?" hanna grinned. god, she was trying to get to you, and it was working.

you and lindsay certainly weren't close friends, but she was the only person you talked to at lunch besides tom. despite all the chatter that was going around, you never would have imagined lindsay actually liking tom. sometimes, she would get a little touchy, holding onto his arm as she giggled, and although you thought it was a little weird at first, you knew it was all platonic. at least, that's what you thought you knew.

it made you nervous. for the first time in your life, after a long time, you felt fear, and all the happy thoughts from the past few days had disintegrated into thin air. lindsay was undeniably beautiful. everyone admired her luscious red hair - they thought she was prettiest red head they'd seen in their entire lives. it hurt to say that you did, sort of, agree. tom could look even better with a girl like lindsay, why would he ever choose you?

lindsay and tom also had a lot in common, she was delighted to work with someone who was just as motivated as she was. she spoke with such confidence in her voice that it washed away all that was in yours. you felt invisible whenever lindsay was in the same room as you.

you sighed, looking at hanna hopelessly, "what do i do, hanna?"

she smiled, "well, i'm gonna make you look extra good today, even though you already look perfect on a daily basis. luckily for you, you have one of those date scenes with tom, so you need to look glammed up anyway. getting him to fall for you, not like he hasn't already," she winked, "is all about your mentality. you need to hint that you are thinking about tom in the scene, and not his character."

hanna was right. today, had, yet another, scene where you needed to kiss tom. she continued, "you need to make him love you, no one gives a damn about professionalism and his character, and what not." she finished your makeup, which was stunning, and handed you your costume. by the time she was done with the finishing touches, even you admitted you looked good.

"can we get y/n on in two minutes?" a voice from outside called.

"alright, y/n, go get him girl." hanna breathed out, patting your shoulders. you smiled at her quickly before leaving the room.

when tom saw you, his jaw quite literally dropped. he always found you stunning, but today, you were a different kind of stunning. you approached him, smiling warmly. "hey," you said.

his eyes scanned you quickly. you felt your cheeks heat up. was tom cruise really checking you out? "wow," tom chuckled, breathlessly, "you look... great."

you laughed lightly, stunned by his shocked expression, "thank you. you do too."

tom was dressed in a crisp, white dress shirt, paired with black slacks. his outfit matched with your sparkling, white dress and black heels. the scene was meant to be at a fancy restaurant, where tom's character took yours out on a date, and near the end, the two of you would share a passionate kiss. you couldn't help but smirk as lindsay discreetly gritted her teeth.

there were only a few minutes left before the shooting of the scene started, though that didn't stop lindsay from pulling you aside just as you were about to walk into the room. "hey, y/n," lindsay whispered, "i need to tell you something."

you looked at her, about ninety percent sure of what she was going to say next. "you have to promise you won't tell anyone though," she added.

you placed a hand on her shoulder. that was one of the many things lindsay hated about you. you were so, so kind, it made her feel guilty of how much she despised you. occasionally, she would think to herself, 'it's just a man', but it really wasn't just a man. it was tom cruise. lindsay was extremely envious of you. while you didn't know it, every single member of the cast was wrapped around your finger, especially tom. lindsay knew there was no way of competing against you. so, in order to score tom, she thought she had to do what she had originally been dreading.

"i promise. your secret's safe with me." you whispered back.

lindsay took a deep breath, then sighed it out, "i like tom." the words were like bullets, piercing your flesh, and racing straight through. you saw it coming, yet here you are, speechless. just when everything was going well for you, a pretty girl like lindsay had to ruin it.

"i-" you stuttered, struggling to even find words, "tom's great. he's an amazing and talented guy, you should totally shoot your shot."

lindsay beamed at your words, thrilled you didn't yell at her. "that's exactly what i was thinking!" she squealed, "i was going to tell him today, but i wanted your approval first. you know, girl best friends never let another girl steal them."

such a backhanded statement. you could feel the glare she gave you from a mile away. 'approval', 'girl best friend', 'steal'. you decided that if she said another word, you would hire a hitman to crawl into her trailer and stab her.

to save yourself trouble, you cut the conversation short, "you're absolutely right. you need to tell him, he actually really likes you. he thinks you're beautiful." you purposely used the same tone of voice as her and dragged out the 'beautiful'. "i need to go now. good luck, lindsay!"

lindsay watched as you walked down the hall, your glossy hair swishing each step you took. she was relieved she didn't need to say anything more.

she felt her hope fade each time she conversed with you, and this time, it might have just all gone away.

your mouth curved into a small smile just as tom placed his hand on top of yours. the cameras were solely on the two of you. tom's eyes were staring directly into your own, his gaze safe and lustful. "you're beautiful." he said, still looking attentively at you. you stayed silent, as mentioned in the script, but you continued smiling.

tom leaned in, just slightly. you did the same a couple seconds later, and soon, the two of you were almost touching. you felt his warm breath graze against your lips. tom leaned in a little more, placing one small kiss, then pulling away. you loved it. so much, that you wanted more. you leaned in again. this time, the kiss was different. it was as if you found the delicious delicacy again, and needed to selfishly devour the whole thing.

the director yelled cut, and the two of you pulled apart. after that kiss, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

you couldn't keep looking at tom every day and pretend you didn't feel more than friendship. you couldn't talk to tom, and hide away everything you wanted to tell him. attraction was a risky game, but it was one you were willing to play.

"tom." he was still sitting across from you. his head was bowed down to fix his shirt, but he looked up at the sound of your voice.

"i love you." you managed to say through shaky breaths.

tom smiled, shaking his head, "y/n, the camera isn't rolling anymore."

"no," you stopped tom, "i'm serious. let me say it again. i love you."

he was frozen. the most still you'd ever seen anyone be. tom couldn't believe the words that had just come out of your mouth. all these moments, where he could've said something, and didn't, were suddenly all a waste of time. if only he had known earlier, he could've stopped himself from this misery of hiding his, clearly obvious, feelings.

"i totally understand if you don't feel the same, i mean, you're a huge movie-" you were immediately cut off by tom's lips crashing onto yours. you instantly kissed back. you were finally kissing tom cruise, off camera. it was complete bliss.

"i love you too." tom said, bringing your hand up and placing small kisses on your knuckles.

on the side, lindsay was only slightly angry. she was definitely jealous, but she had realised just how amazing you were for tom. he looked at you with such love in his eyes, she came to the conclusion that he would never look at anyone else the same.

you were too happy to notice lindsay, though you would've been glad to know she wasn't fuming.

you were focused entirely on tom, and he was focused entirely on you. attraction was a risky game, and it was one you had won.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 26

PREVIOUS

Nicky can’t help but bounce his legs as they sit in the waiting room at the hospital. He’s had to leave the waiting room a couple times already because in Aaron’s effort to comfort him, and wow how far they’ve come he’s really raised Aaron to be such a thoughtful young man, the jackass has unknowingly made four more Miss Congeniality references.

This is a waiting room full of nervous families and Nicky is NOT about to be the guy who can’t stop laughing because Aaron mentioned World Peace in a snapback at Kevin.

Nicky is not going to be the one to explain FF’s jokes. He MAY already be planning a Miss Congeniality movie night. Neil, Aaron, and Kevin may not remember but ANDREW will and watching Andrew realize his friend was referencing an AMAZING movie when talking about how he took out one of the FBIs most wanted was all he wanted at the moment.

Another nurse comes in and calls out “Elias Smith?” But Wymack doesn’t get up from his seat still sipping his now lukewarm coffee. There’s been 14 different times she’s called for a ‘Smith’ family but Wymack hasn’t moved for any of them and different waiting families have gotten up to get updates and taken back to see their family members.

Maybe he wants to see Andrew’s face a little less than he wants to see FF’s right now. He has his flowers on a chair next to him and a get well soon card that he’d had Wymack also sign. He was waiting for Smith’s grandma to come to see if she wanted in on some card real estate

“Seriously, how many Smiths got stabbed yesterday?” Kevin marvels.

“At this point it’s at least 12.” Aaron remarks.

“I’m at 14 not including Smithy.” Nicky says.

“At least we’ll finally get to find out Smith’s first name.” Kevin crosses his arms and leans back heavily into the chair, “I’m hungry.” He whines.

“Yeah, at least there’s that.” Nicky agrees because not knowing FF’s name at this point made him feel like an incredibly BAD friend. Even mores than the fact that Nicky raised the man that stabbed FF last night. He turns his thoughts away from those thoughts, “You wouldn’t be hungry if you hadn’t bitched about the breakfast burritos I had us pick up.” Nicky argues.

“It was greasy! I’m already slipping on my diet after Thanksgiving and eating that pie.” Kevin argues back.

Nicky can’t help but think of Kevin as a pageant contestant in that moment.

Nicky looks heavenward for the strength not to laugh.

“Then go get something.” Aaron says from Nicky’s side, “There’s gotta be a cafeteria or something around here.” Aaron adds.

“I don’t want to go alone.” Kevin shoots back and Nicky can HEAR Aaron roll his eyes.

“Fine, whatever I need more coffee anyways. Let’s go find a cafeteria.” Aaron says getting up and Nicky looks at his cousin, “Text us if you get a room number.” He says.

“Will do.” Nicky agrees.

Then it was two.

It’s about five minutes before, “David Wymack?”

Nicky’s head shoots to Wymack and he sees the smug amusement on their coach’s face.

That motherfucker.

Nicky followed Wymack up to the doctor in question. “How’s he doing?” Wymack asks.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” The doctor says and Nicky feels his stomach sink into his toes.

***

Neil has NEVER been more relieved to be out of a car and that includes the ones Lola had him in (though that might be because being out of those cars meant he was closer to his death by way of Nathan).

Granny Smith had not spoken a word unprompted since they had climbed into the car. Granny Smith had the exact same expressionless face as her grandson did but it is only now that Neil realizes that there was always some hint of emotion on FF’s face. Neil wasn’t great at knowing exactly what those emotions were but they were there.

Granny Smith’s rage was pretty hard to miss.

“I think she knows.” Andrew had said with his hands white knuckled at 10 and 2.

“How could she?” Neil questions. “Smith’s phone fell in that toilet before he got stabbed.” He says but he can feel the anger and can feel it directed towards them.

She had seemed so nice with Paul!

Though Paul didn’t have anything to do with her grandson getting stabbed. Neil could understand how that might sour any niceness.

Neil and Andrew had pulled into the parking lot and it was only then that Granny Smith leaned forward and pointed towards the entrance.

Words weren’t really necessary then.

Before Neil could even try and trudge through offering to bring her bag to her the woman was out of the back of the Maserati and through the sliding doors of the hospital.

“Maybe…maybe she’s just like that? Smith likes to sit in silence too?” Neil tries but Andrew doesn’t say anything as he turns the Maserati into the parking lot to find a space.

They walked in only to find the receptionist looking confusedly at Granny Smith as the woman spoke in rapid Polish but was getting nowhere.

Neil watched as Andrew squared his shoulders and walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned around she the fear and anger shown through in her expression. Neil could understand in a way. FF was her grandson and considering the fact that FF had likely gotten his interest in languages from learning Polish from her?

They’re probably close.

Neil is pretty sure that normal close family members worry like this.

Almost positive.

He may not have the best examples in his own life but he has watched enough television and enough movies to start to see what might be considered normal!

Really!

Anyways…

Andrew points towards the doors that would lead them towards the elevator that they could take up to the waiting room.

Neil watches as Granny Smith visibly struggles before nodding. Andrew holds out his hand and she stares at it before Andrew points at her bag.

She blinks, looking taken aback.

“I can carry it.” He offers.

It’s a few moments of looking between Andrew’s face and his hand before she hands over her bag.

Andrew puts it over his shoulder and the three of them silently made their way up. The elevator ride was slightly less excruciating than the car ride but only just.

They got off and saw Nicky, Wymack, and a Doctor.

“…so he may not wake up.” Neil hears and watches as Andrew’s shoulders go instantly tense and Neil feels his own heart jump into his throat.

Then Nicky laughs.

“Of course he’s sleepy!” Nicky throws his head back.

“Yes, he had a high level of cortisol, that’s the stress hormone, in his blood. He should wake up either late today or early tomorrow though.” The Doctor says.

“Oh thank GOD.” Nicky says with a relieved slump to his shoulders, “You really gotta work on how you start conversations like this Doc! I thought you were going to tell me Smithy died not that he’s just going to sleep like the dead for at least 18 more hours!” Nicky exclaims before his gaze slides off of the Doctor and onto their group. “Oh!” Nicky moves past the Doctor and stops in front of them. “You must be Smithy’s grandma!” He says and offers his hand like the sweet respectable young man that Nicky absolutely isn’t.

“Nicky, she doesn’t-“

“Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek.” Granny Smith knocks his hand away and pinches his cheek. Nicky visibly melts at the warm tonę even if he doesn’t know what is being said to him.

“Oh!” Nicky says, “I hope I don’t butcher this, Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” He says haltingly before pausing, “Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” he says but this time his enthusiasm has the language come out more smoothly.

Granny Smith seems to light up even more. “Czyż nie?”

“Nicky, since when did you know Polish?” Andrew asks brows raised slightly in shock.

“What? You two aren’t the only ones who decided to learn a cute foreign language so you could have secret couple conversations.” Nicky huffs frowning at the two of them, “Erik’s company has an office in Poland, he thinks it might be fun to try living there for a while so we’ve been learning the last year and a half.” Nicky says, “Smithy’s been such a huge help on it too!” He adds.

Neil opens his mouth, thinks about it, and closes it.

That’s fair.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

EDIT: 6/8/23: Thanks @shirlai​ for fixing my janky Polish for Nicky!

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @fuckyeahjeanmoreau @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing @bushbees  @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Also if anyone fluent in Polish wants to correct me on any of the Polish wants to correct me / sends smoother Polish please do! I am just using Google Translate for GS.

Translations:

Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek. = “You must be Nicky! You're so handsome, just like my chicken said.”

“Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” = “Thank you! I loved your pie!”

“Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” = “You call him your chicken? That’s so cute!”

“Czyż nie?” = “Isn’t it?”

[snapscube]

So you mentioned the Amazing Spider-man movies, what are your thoughts on them? For me; I was pleasantly surprised by 1 AND 2. Like 2 is bad, real bad, but the jokes were legit, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone are just...an amazing on screen couple and until the transformation Harry is a really fun villain....just sucks that most of the movie is exposition about peoples relationships to one another or experiments done mostly off screen.

TASM1 is perfectly serviceable as a standalone project and was definitely not the worst jumping off point, but it struggles to really properly understand Spider-Man/Peter as a personality. Peter absolutely doesn't have to be a goody two-shoes loser, all of the best adaptations of Peter imo can have some serious attitude and grit to their persona, but TASM1 kinda over-corrects on the Tobey Maguire "shy nerd" angle by making Spidey a bit too much of a dick. I remember the movie getting a lot of praise for finally making Spider-Man funny and quippy, praise I similarly gave at the time, but it really... doesn't do that nearly as much as ppl gave it credit for??? There's like ONE scene where Spider-Man is kinda jokey with someone he suspects to be Ben's killer, but that scene kinda stinks because he's not quipping as much as he's like actively cruel lmao. Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone had great chemistry though and you can tell Marc Webb knew his stuff when it came to directing that kind of romantic tension, seeing as how his previous project was 500 Days of Summer. All-in-all, it's a Fine movie but it's not a fantastic adaptation of the things I personally like about Spider-Man.

TASM2 is so much more intriguing to me to watch and to talk about. It's genuinely baffling how that movie ended up like it did, but in a way that almost anyone could have predicted. That movie STINKS. It's really really bad. But it also has kind of the opposite problem to TASM1 in that... TASM1 is a good movie that doesn't properly showcase the character of Spider-Man, whereas TASM2 is a garbage movie that features some of the best live action Spider-Man scenes/setpieces we had seen and would ever see to this day. It's sincerely tragic how many great INDIVIDUAL MOMENTS are in that movie, and how loosely connected they are by some monumentally stupid studio meddling. That movie has everything going in its favor with Andrew Garfield in the lead, the best live action Spider-Man suit to this day, the most thrilling and well rendered swinging sequences put to film, and the occasional glimpse of a true Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man that is down on the ground connecting with and watching over not just the city itself but the people within it. There's a montage in the middle of the movie that features Spider-Man on his daily patrol and he comes across as just so PRESENT and on the same level as the people he protects, meanwhile in the audio track you hear newscasters and interviews fiercely debating whether or not what he does is actually worthwhile. And that shit HITS. But unfortunately that kind of stuff is still too rare and it far overshadowed by Sony desperately trying to make a Spidey Cinematic Universe without earning it. Ultimately they had all of the pieces to make a truly definitive adaptation of Spidey that I feel like almost anyone could get behind, but they just... couldn't. Even Spider-Man PS4, commonly lauded as one of the most definitive Spidey stories of all time, uses SO MUCH of the same DNA of the Amazing Spider-Man films, but the difference is that it had the space to be only exactly what it needed to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway I could talk more about this for sure but I'm looking at the length of this write-up and wincing already LOL.

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?

warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome

word count: 3.2k

notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong

also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)

but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome

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

Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.

But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him. 

It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.

Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were. 

Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.

It was much worse than an attacker. 

You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.

Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent. 

All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?

“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.” 

Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up. 

“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not. 

He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.

After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.

You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.

Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.” 

“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy. 

Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.

Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you. 

He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.

His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.” 

That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting. 

You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.

He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.

He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you. 

You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second. 

You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out. 

You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding. 

You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was. 

You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.

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

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!

taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

[sweetlittlegingy]

I Never Saw You Coming And I'll Never Be The Same

✦Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother, Jake "Hangman" Seresin!father x son relationship

✦Word Count: 3.1K

✦Warnings: So much fluff, sick day, dad!Jake, sick reader and child, protective!Jake,

✦A/n: I just wrote this today, I had no plans and it just happened. My Maty is sick and we spent most of the day cuddling, this is what it produced.

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The chatter around the locker room revolving around the Friday night plan at the Hard Deck falls to silent ears, as Jake checks his phone for what felt like the millionth time. You hadn’t messaged him all day and his worries were eating away at him. It wasn’t that he needed you to text him all the time, though last night you had mentioned Maty not feeling the best and now without a word from you his mind seems to be spiraling.

Rooster shrugs the worn Hawaiian shirt over his shoulder, though Jake’s worried expression catches Rooster’s attention immediately. A nudge to the shoulder pulls Jake’s attention from his phone, long enough for Rooster to ask what gives.

“Just worried about Y/n, gonna go over to the office and check on her.” The words are muttered as Jake’s eyes focus back on his phone.

“Was over there this morning, Cyclone said she called in sick.” Rooster's tone is light, though Jake can’t help but worry. You and Jake had been officially together since November and Jake couldn’t be happier with the fact that you and Mathew were permanent fixtures in his life.

While you still had a hard time letting Jake help you; you were still worried that at any moment Jake may decide that you weren’t the hassle. Which led to you avoiding him when the smallest inconvenience uprooted your life.

Said inconvenience now manifesting through Maty, and possibly you, being sick. With a nod of thanks to Rooster, Jake slips his jacket on before leaving the locker room while dialing his mother’s number.

Jake pulls up to your small house and it almost looks like no one is home, though the single flicking light of the living room tv gives you away. It took Jake longer than he intended, but with his mother's advice, Jake made it to the nearest pharmacy and collected every children’s cough, cold, and fever medicine a four-year-old could have.  As well as, a few different cold medicines for adults and at his mother’s behest a new fuzzy blanket for you, and the new toy story movie for Maty. Jake grabs the shopping bag from the backseat, before trudging up the steps and gently knocking on your door. It takes a moment, but eventually, he can hear you moving around behind the door.

...

You hadn’t planned for anyone to come over tonight, Penny had brought over a soup your mother made during lunch, and more than anything you wanted to crawl into bed for the night. Though a restful night’s sleep was far beyond what you would be getting tonight, and possibly the next couple nights. Mathew had a horrible time with his lungs when he got sick, after getting croup when he was only one, it became a regular occurrence in your life. Though this time felt like it was even worse, the nebulizer was barely helping and every time you got his fever down, a new coughing fit would ensue.

Not only had Maty been sick, but in the past few hours you could slowly start to feel your body drain. It had started out as a slightly sore throat you noticed last night while doing steam rounds in the shower with Maty. Now along with the sore throat, came a chest-wrenching cough and a terrible migraine.

You slowly shuffle to the door, feet clad in a pair of fuzzy socks that Jake had gotten you for Christmas, as well as one of Jake’s hoodies that dwarfed your frame. Your porch light is blinding when you open the door and the sudden rays of light have you wincing.

“Oh, Sweetheart.”

Your eyes find Jake’s and you try your best to give him a smile, though it's near impossible. A small whine from the couch has you turning away from Jake and leaving the door open in a silent request to come inside.

Mathew moves on the couch, as he wraps the blanket tighter around himself, and looks around the room for you. You hated seeing him like this, your baby was usually so independent and happy. But when he was sick, it was like he was a whole different child. His eyes find yours, before flittering behind you to Jake causing the tiniest small to cross his lips.

“Jakey.”

“Hey, Bubba.”

Jake’s voice is quiet and the only other noise in the room comes from the forgotten tv. You turn back around as Jake slips off his shoes, and you hear the sound of a few bags being sat on the floor. You blame the slight delirium of not seeing them on the pounding in your head, but at the sight of them now your heart aches.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” You try to sound happy, though your voice sounds overly tired and the small yawn that falls from your lips makes it even more apparent.

“I hadn’t heard from you today and when Rooster told me you called in sick, I got worried.”

A smile crosses your face and the small thank you that falls from your lips has Jake reaching out and wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m gonna get you sick, Jake.” You shuffle in his arms trying to pull away, though his hold on you tightens as he places a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I don’t care, nothing was going to keep me away from my two favorite people.” You pull back from his hold, and you see nothing but unfiltered love.

The sound of Mathew having a coughing fit pulls your attention from Jake, who is already moving to wrap his arms around your miniature self. Mathew welcomes Jake’s hold and is more than happy to bury his face in Jake’s neck. Jake doesn’t falter while his hand rubs Mathew's back, as Maty cough’s harshly into his shoulder.

The sight of them tugs on your heart and you can’t help the way you snuggle up to Jake causing him to wrap his free arm around you. The three of you stay in the position as Mathew’s cough finally settles and you tug the sleeves of Jake’s hoodie to cover your hands.

“My chest hurts, momma.”

Your eyes open as you pull back from being buried in Jake’s side to find your overly tired and sore four-year-old. Jake’s hand rakes through Mathew’s hair, as his green eyes flutter between you and Jake. Your hand rises to check Mathew's forehead and the small increase in temperature has you looking at the clock to see if you can give him another dose of medicine.

“Baby, momma’s going to get some medicine for your head and then I think we need to do another round in the shower.” The tiniest whine confirms that he heard you and Jake places another kiss on the crown of your head before settling on the couch, rocking Mathew gently from side to side.

The quiet whisper of your voice letting out a small shit, has Jake looking toward the kitchen where you disappeared. Your figure reappears and you can’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes. You were overly tired and didn’t feel good, and now the realization that you had run out of children’s Tylenol has them falling from your waterline.

“Sweets, what’s wrong baby?”

The gentle tone of Jake’s voice causes a shuttered breath as another sob falls from you. He didn’t need to be here, you weren’t his problem, you were a grown woman and yet a small bottle of liquid Tylenol had you in tears.

“I’m out of Tylenol and have to get some, but you shouldn’t be here taking care of us on a Friday night.” Another sob falls from your lips and has Jake rising again after he sits Mathew down on the couch, his blanket draped over his small frame.

Jake’s arms wrap around you and tuck you in, just like he had done to Mathew moments ago.

“Sweets, with you is the only place I ever want to be. You became my number one priority the moment you told me off in Cyclone’s office, while you drowned in paperwork.”

A smile tugs at your lips and you place a small kiss against Jake’s chest.

“Plus, I already went to the store and picked up everything we could need.”

His cocky tone has you pulling away in question, and the smile on his lips makes your stomach flip. Your eyebrow raises in question, though before you can even question him, he answers. “I wasn’t exactly sure what you would need,” his free hand scratches at the back of his neck, and before your eyes, you see a rare sight. Jacob Grant Seresin is blushing in embarrassment. “Well, I called my mom. I didn’t know what to get and figured that she was the best person to ask, plus I didn’t want to get the wrong stuff. She walked me through everything, and I made sure to check the age requirements for Maty. He is safe to take everything I g–”

“Thank you.” Your words cut off his rambling and cause him to lean into the hand you place against his cheek.

...

You sort through the bag of medication and the number of different kinds has a smile crossing your lips. After Jake had given you the bag to sort through, Maty was more than ready to be wrapped back up in his arms and instantly wrapped his arms around Jake’s neck when he picked the small boy up.

You stop in the hallway as you come back from the kitchen and though you’ve seen the pair be loving in main ways, the two of them wrapped in a blanket as Jake whispers in Mathew’s ear may be your favorite sight.

“Hey, sweetpea,” Your voice and hand against Mathew’s back has him stirring, pulling away from Jake’s neck as his eyes droop low. “You gotta take this, my love. Then we can get in the shower, and clear up your chest a little more.”

A small nod is the only reaction you get, before placing the small cup on Mathew’s lips and tipping it back. Your reach out to take him from Jake, though he is quick to grasp onto Jake, intertwining his fingers as he huddles farther into Jake’s chest.

“Baby, we need to get you in the shower.”

His small voice is muffled against Jake’s neck, though you can make out the quiet plea to stay with Jake. Your hand rubs up and down Mathew’s back, as you look back at Jake’s face unsure of what to do. Mathew needed to get in the shower, but you also knew that if he cried, his cough and chest would worsen more than it already was.

“What if we get in the shower together bub, while momma rests for a minute?” Mathew gives a small nod, while still remaining tucked away. Jake sees the questioning look on your face and smiles slightly.

“You’ve still got a pair of my swim trunks tucked away. Right, Sweets?”

It’s like a light bulb goes off in your head, “Yes, from Labor Day weekend!” and has you heading down to your bedroom in search of them. They’re stacked under the pair of sweatpants and tee shirt that Jake left here for when he stayed over.

You turn to head back out to the living room, though instead find Jake and Mathew in his room picking out a pair of swim trunks as well. Mathew is still latched onto Jake’s neck, while he riffles through the blue and white dresser. You don’t hear the conversation the pair is having, though the sight of Maty whispering in Jake’s ear pulls on your heart.

“I found them.”

Your voice causes them to turn, and Jake holds up a pair of swim shorts in a different shade of blue. Jake gives you a smile, before sitting Mathew on his bed and turning to you.

“Bubba, you let momma help you get ready and I’m going to change in her room, but I’ll be right back. Okay?”

A small hum leaves Mathew’s lips and gives Jake enough confidence that the four-year-old isn’t going to have a breakdown from him disappearing. You give Jake a small smile as you trade shorts, though he stops you in the doorway. Your tired eyes lift to meet Jake’s stare as one of his hands settles on your waist and the other comes to rest on your cheek.

“You’re doing an amazing job momma.” The comment has you sighing and your head falling forward to rest on Jake’s chest. You knew that you were a good mom, Mathew was your whole world, but hearing it from someone else filled a gaping hole in your chest. Especially given the fact that it felt like your whole world was crumbling around you. You hated seeing Mathew sick, but the fact that you were sick as well and that you weren’t working at 100% to take care of him, ate away at you.

“I love you.” You whisper the words, before placing a kiss on Jake’s chest.

The hand resting on the back of your head comes around to grasp your face once again, tilting you to look up at him.

“I love you.” Before you can even protest that you’re sick and shouldn’t be kissing, Jake’s mouth descends upon yours. His lips feel like home, and you take the moment to savor the kiss. It wasn’t as if 10 seconds longer would change the fact that Jake was now most likely going to get sick. You pull away from the kiss, though the warning look Jake gives you, has the reprimanding words slipping from your mind, and instead wrap your arms around his waist once again.

“I love you both, so much Sweets.” A second kiss is placed at the crown of your head before Jake slips from your hold to go change.

Mathew gives you a small smile from his bed that has you going over and giving him a hug and kiss. Maty was usually so independent that you rarely got the chance to baby him anymore, though now you miss the spunky boy. You slowly help him remove his jammies, before slipping into his swim trunks and picking him up to go find Jake.

Mathew tucks his face into your neck as you leave his room, and you automatically place a gentle kiss on his head.

“Love you, momma.”

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

You find Jake leaving your room at the same time you leave Mathew’s, and he is quick to take Maty from your hold. Reminding you that you are in fact sick as well, and don’t need to add to the strain your body is already under from the virus.

With a flick of your wrist, the shower starts, and the small room instantly starts to fill with steam. You flick a few drops of peppermint oil into the shower to help open up Mathew's chest. Turning around you find Jake, with Mathew on the counter, while gently rubbing his back. Mathew’s eyes remain closed as he leans against Jake, only opening slightly when Jake bends down to ask him if he was ready to get in.

They slide the glass door open and step through to sit on the bench seat, though before you can close the door Jake catches your arm and gives it a gentle tug to get your attention.

“I’ve got him now, Sweets. I want you to go lay down, you don’t have to sleep, but your body needs the rest.”

“M’kay.” The word is slightly slurred and, at the moment realize just how tired your body was. You give him a small nod and tell both of them you love them, before sliding the glass door shut and go to leave the bathroom.

You pause at the door and listen to the pair. The water had woken Mathew up and given him a small bout of energy.

“How much do we love momma?”

You can’t see Mathew's reaction though you’re sure it’s one with his arms spread wide open. Jake’s teasing tone, “Hole bunch?!” followed by a tiny giggle confirms it. You go to leave though; the sound of Mathew’s small voice causes you to halt again.

“You love momma, Jakey.” You can tell it’s not a question. “Do you love me too?”

His voice is so raw from coughing, though you can hear a definite tone of unsureness. The room is quiet for a moment, the only sound being the water hitting off the white tile.

“I love you so much, Bubba.”

You hear the crack in Jake’s voice, and you know that he is tearing up silently. Jake wasn’t someone that showed people his emotions, though with you and Mathew, inside these four walls Jake never held anything back. He didn’t need to, not when he knew that you loved him just as much as he loved Mathew and you.

“You will always have me, Maty. No matter what happens, I will always love and protect you.”

You have to step out of the bathroom, before Jake finishes, not wanting to worry either of them by hearing you cry. You didn’t know how you had gotten so lucky with Jake, how he had decided that you were worthy of a love that ran so deep, that it felt like you had known each other for your whole lives. The type of love that proved time and time again, that Jake would always love and protect your baby like he was his own.

The tears gathering on your waterline fall as you lay down on your bed. As you let your body sink father into the comfortable mattress, and sheets that still smelled like Jake.

...

You shift of the bed, has your eyes opening abruptly, and moving to get up. Though Jake’s hand on you causes you to lay back down and shift around to face him. Mathew's small body lies between the two of you, as small snores emit from him, and he curls farther into Jake’s chest.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Thank you for taking care of him.”

Your words are weighted and tired as your eyes flutter to stay open. Jake slides closer to you, settling Mathew farther on his bare chest as the small boy rolls farther into him while grasping his blanket. Jake pulls you toward him as well and you settle on the arm that Mathew lays halfway on. Jake’s other hand comes around to settle on your waist, incasing the both of you in his hold.

“Sweets, don’t you ever thank me for taking care of him.”

You cuddle farther into Jake and slowly fall farther back into the restful slumber. Jake silently lies listening to your even breathing, which evens out to match Maty’s. He shifts gently, pulling the pair of you closer before placing a kiss on the top of each of your heads.

“Always gonna take care of you, Sweets. My baby boy and his perfect momma.”

[telleroftime]

King of the Koopas ||| Bowser x Reader

Headcanons

———————————————

Some fluffy headcanons for Bowser inspired by his character model in the new Super Mario movie. (Because I paid a bit too much attention to him when I first watched it).

Pairing: Bowser x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Warnings: Spoilers for the movie if you count description of Bowser's character model as a spoiler. There's nothing beyond that.

Bowser Masterlist

A/N: I may have one group project and one coursework due this week, alongside a seminar on Monday and an exam on Tuesday - buuuut my love for Bowser prevails.

———————————————

Bowser has multiple small scars all over his body - from his legs to his arms - all from his previous battles and any other accidents he's been in. Notably, there are a couple of small marks near the right edge of his jaw. They're mostly unnoticeable, however there is a pale shine when they catch the light, especially firelight and any hot glow emanating from the falling streams of lava.

Bowser had forgotten about them. To him, they are just one of the many cuts and bruises he's gained from fighting. They're just insignificant parts of his body. Not only that, he wouldn't see them often unless he was to look into a reflective surface, which realistically he wouldn't do that commonly unless he needs to boost his confidence and pep talk himself.

But, once you notice, you won't forget.

He wouldn't know how to react when you kiss him there.

At first, he wouldn't assume much of it. A kiss is a kiss and he will take anything he can get from you with how touch-starved he is. From your gentle caresses to your undivided attention. He'd revel in the way you tilt and angel his face, and will get all flustered and smitten and every other love related word.

However, even through his heart-eyes, he would take note of you kissing that one spot if you chose to make it a habit. It would take a while, but he would pick up on it and he'd eventually ask why you choose to kiss that spot every time, only to be surprised when he finds out it's all because he has scars there.

He would completely melt if you were to kiss any other scar on his body, especially any on his arms where he can see you.

Tough-guy who? Not Bowser. Not when he's with you.

And there would be no poker-face. He's bad enough at masking his emotions as is. If you were to look up at his face, you would see him grinning like a lovestruck teenager.

Oh, and speaking of shiny and reflective things: his scales reflect light. A lot.

The ombre of green scales on his shoulders have an almost iridescent sheen to them. They reflect the environment very well, glowing golden in the firelight and purple in the night sky. Some of the scales are glossier than others, and there's a pattern of mismatched reflectiveness.

And sometimes the scales look like scattered stars around his body.

Because of their position, it would be another aspect of himself Bowser doesn't really pay attention to. Not only are they just like any other scales to him, and he has plenty of those, but he wouldn't pay much attention to the appearance of his shoulders and neck. I doubt it would even be something his eyes flicker to when looking at himself in the mirror.

Which is why you mentioning them would throw him completely off course.

His eyes would be wide, and he'd do his best to look at the scales on his shoulders, angling his head to see what you see. He wouldn't understand why you find them so interesting, and would be too stunned to fully take in your explanations if you chose to compliment him.

You find his scales fascinating? But they're just scales... And you say they shine like stars? But diamonds can do the same thing...

He wouldn't understand at first, until he realises you like them because they're beautiful in your eyes and they're a part of him.

And then cue the tail wagging, because he would be the giddiest Koopa in his entire kingdom.

And another thing - if him lacking a pokerface wasn't obvious enough - his eyes glow with his emotions. Though it's mainly visible with ones of wrath and anger, they do glow. And there are stages to it. They go from his normal crimson coloured eyes and carefully climb up levels of brightness. They become a copper orange and increase in saturation to mimic the tones of molten rock.

It's almost like he takes the phrase 'seeing red' literally.

It's that glow that lets you know whether your attempts to calm him down work. If you coo at him, gently stroking and patting his arms to place him back in reality, you'd know of its effectiveness almost immediately. If it works, that dangerous glow would sizzle out, and he'd look at you with the most endearing eyes, completely forgetting what made him so angry.

There'd still be smoke puffing out of his nose, but the absence of the glow would tell you that he sees you, and that he's in control of himself.

If your attempts to calm him down don't work, you'd know to give him some space and wait patiently for him to calm himself down. He would, eventually, and he'd come straight to you.

It's also what lets you know if something you said upset him. Not like he'd ever direct his anger at you, though. It's always good to know.

———————————————

Bowser Masterlist

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition. 

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! You can also check masterlist for another multi-chapter Soldier Boy / Reader story called "Protect Me From What I Want" Thank you for reading this. <33

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series!

[kanmom51]

JM's Production diary Documentary

And Live 23 October 2023

So, I don't know how to do this.

Write about JM's documentary separate from his live.

Write about the two without being all over the place.

Because not too much happened, and yet so much did.

So, where do I start? How do I get through this?

At this point I have so many ideas running through my head for posts, so much so that I'm not sure just yet how this post will work out, given that everything intertwines.

I still have JM's previous live to work on as well. Yeah, kind of overwhelmed at the moment.

I guess I will just get on with it, but I do think that more than likely there will be things I will either save for another post or two or three, or forget something (that I can guarantee) or just post on repeat, cause some things we just cannot get enough of.

Let's talk about the documentary a bit.

We got to see the process of JM creating his songs. How they would start with the idea, the narrative. Then the melody, instruments and the vocals and then the actual lyrics.

JM's musicality, his talent, his creativity all showcased.

We also got to see just how nice Pdogg is. How much he loves JM, how respectful he is to him, not to mention how talented he is himself. As a matter of fact, the whole team that worked with JM were super nice and talented and they just all seemed to be having a good time, even while working to the bone.

Oh, and how none of them actually knew English, lmao.

In the documentary we were shown how JM and Pdogg chose the quote from the movie to use in the song. Only that it wasn't the one they actually used in the song itself. And that is because, as JM revealed to us in the live, they picked it without knowing what the characters were talking about, picking a convo between the characters that sounded nice to them at the time, something that would suit the song. All while the two characters were actually talking about a visa, lol. And JM, well, he found that super funny (which truthfully, it really is), so he repeated it a couple of times.

We also saw RM in the documentary sitting down with them talking about writing lyrics. Only for JM to share with us that:

Which JM found to be very funny. I guess now it is, but back then... not sure he shared that same sentiment, lol.

He kept on laughing about him being an idea bank, lol. It's ok to acknowledge your genius, man!!!

Hobi and then Jin show up in the comments while JM is watching the documentary. And I was surprised at that point, given that I really did think JM wouldn't be doing this live, that it would have been pre-recorded. But it wasn't, and thank god for that, cause we all know what happened later on. Less than 1.30 minutes out of an almost 2 hour live, but gosh, what a 1.30 minutes they were, lol.

Anyways, Hobi shows up and JM goes all shy and even stops playing the documentary telling him to leave, that he won't continue playing until he does.

Guess who won that fight, lol. Hobi, of course. JM gives in and continues, once in a while saying they will go away at 9 pm (Jin came in to say that there is some kind of something military related, lol).

Letter

Yes, let's actually start with the name of the song.

Cause for some reason, although they all talk about the song using the word pyeonji (Letter), all while the translation is Dear.Army. Like what the actual fuck? Why would they do that?

Well, we kind of know, don't we?

Someone (cough Hybe cough) is working super hard to cement the song is for the fans.

Please tell me, if this was a song completely meant for the fans, why this incessant need of the company to sell this to us? Why change the name of it in the fucking documentary, while JM and the others are literally saying the word "letter" translating it to "Dear.Army"? There is only one answer I can think of here. And you know exactly what that answer is.

I'm not going to go back to all the reasoning as to why this is way more than a song for fans, I feel like we've discussed this ad nauseam. I will only say that NOTHING we saw in the documentary contradicts what we think about Letter.

You can see, throughout the process how emotionally tasking the song is for JM. And yes, a song for ARMY could be emotional, I mean both JM and JK have immense love for ARMY, and we've seen JK burst into tears talking to army or about army, JM getting very emotional himself. But this, this was more. There are moments there when you can see the anxiety just bursting out of JM.

This song was just MORE.

Especially when you take everything you see in the documentary, JM's state of mind, his words, his behaviour, and add it all up with the lyrics, even more so the missing lyrics. Would be hard to explain how "dongsaeng" fits into "this is a song for army"... Add it to the hidden track. But not only it being a hidden track, it's a hidden track only on the physical CD. Not the digital CD. So, no streaming. A track for Army, for his fans, that not all of his fans get to hear freely? A track for Army that, hmm... maybe wasn't supposed to even be in the album?

We got more than 2 seconds of JK. That's worth a mention too, no?

When I saw this I was: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Cause, no way under the sun, yes, pun intended, that this was about ARMY.

Army was NEVER REFERENCED AS THE SUN BY ANY OF THEM.

NEVER.

You know who was?

The level of emotion we see from the two of them throughout the process... this was so personal.

I rewatched it again today before writing these lines. It's JK's body language, it's JM's body language, it's JM going in to cup JK's face when telling him he wrote a fan song, and JK's reaction.

Dare I remind you that "Still with you" was classified by JK as a "fan song". Dare I remind you what our sentiments about that song are? Yeah, a fans song.

And I will remind you, not that you need the reminder, who happened to state for all of us to see that he was JM's fan. Happening to do so during JM's promotions of Face and before JM's Face Live, which I do not think was a coincidence AT ALL.

They are just precious. What else can I say?

There is this as well.

Also, I don't think I'm the only one seeing this. JK at the end going in for a hug, but JM, reaches out for a hand shake and a bow.

He bows.

Twice.

Now, the not going in for a hug could be one of two with JM. The first could be that it was too emotionally charged and that hug, in front of the cameras, will just be too hard. Too hard not to show the emotions. Too hard to break off.

Or, the second could be that by doing this, bowing the way he did do JK, he was showing us, the spectators, just how profoundly thankful he was for JK, and for his participating in the song.

Now that I think of it there could be a third reason. Which would be the combination of the two.

You know what I also noticed there?

That JK didn't bow back.

So, that's more or less what happened with them in the documentary. Not too much talking, when there is it's subdued, understandably so, given this is all done in front of the cameras. But, there is an undertone of emotions there.

Oh, and did I mention we see JM wearing the very important, at the time, necklace throughout the documentary? On that day of recording as well.

And happy little coincidence them wearing the black and white bucket hats? Lol.

Ok then. By now we all know that JK joined the live. And he does it exactly when they started letter. Quelle surprise. Quelle coincidence. Or was it?

Observations:

JK is too skinny. JM thought so too all while grabbing his tiddy.

JK is really tired. Said he was practicing. Eyes red. He needs to eat and sleep.

JM was genuinely surprised by JK's appearance. Th way he lights up, he was surprised and giddy and excited, his whole body movement, practically dancing in his seat with glee.

JK walks in holding his right hand in place. At first I thought maybe it was injured or hurt or unable to move, a cramp maybe, like the ones JM suffers from at times. But later on it looked like there was nothing wrong with his arm. So was that his way of holding himself back? Restraining himself? Containing himself?

JM signals for JK to talk into his mic,

Pulls the mic up forward away from his chest, and as JK comes closer he lets it go and leans back for JK to move in.

And JK, well why? The mic is right there. Why does he lean in lower? To say hello to Army? Talking to JM's what? Not the mic, that's for sure...

There did not seem to be a chair there next to JM when the live started, and when JK was leaving JM had him take a chair with him. So, as JK came into frame were the staff assuming he's going to be joining JM for the rest of the live? Also making sure to hand him a mic?

And then, JM asks JK "why did you lose so much weight?", all while reaching out his arm, and JK moves forward towards him, and you can see JK's eyes moving down to JM's arm all while JM just goes for JK's chest. Just going straight for the grab.

And JK, he loses it for just a second.

Sniff, gulp, giggle...

And we are back.

JK laughingly tells us he just practiced. But kind of still dumbfounded I guess.

And then I think JM came to as well (you know, awakening from the aftershock of his own actions, lol) and tells JK "time to go", or more so "get the fuck out of here as fast as you can and take that chair with you while you're at it, cause if you don't leave now I'm going to jump your bones right here right now".

Ok, so maybe he didn't say those words exactly, but that was the sentiment, lol.

JM apologises. Thrice.

For sending JK on his way.

And we get the hug. One of those Jikook in front of the camera hugs.

And again JM rushes JK to leave, smacking his butt while he's at it.

JK grabs the chair, tells JM to enjoy watching with Army and tells us he loves us on the way out. And JM sitting there watching JK, giggling, smile plastered on his face, waving by. But that isn't the end of it.

Because as JK leaves JM follows him with his gaze, until he waves him goodbye and only then gets back to the documentary.

And this is when we lost JM for a few minutes there during that part of the documentary, and even more so when JK was on screen singing or during their interactions.

And we also got this reaction to their hug.

What was going through your mind at that moment JM?

After JK leaves there is not too much left until the end of the documentary. And then we have a JM giggles attack. And the man is telling us he's laughing about balloon placements, but seriously, do we really think that's it?

And yes, JM was as always his own shy self while going it alone, and yes, he was finding it hard where to go with the live once the video was over, but this was just more than just plain embarrassment or shyness.

Could there have been someone there waiting for him? Someone that has that kind of effect on JM perhaps?

I don't think JK was there the whole time. He really did leave when JM was waving him goodbye (if he hadn't have left JM wouldn't have been able to get back to the documentary the way he did). But possibly, very possibly, lover boy went to shower and came back in time for JM's ending.

JM tells us during that giggle attack that he will post a pic of the funny balloons only to later post a pic of 19 balloons, the ones in the front shaped like an S. And why do I feel like that was JK's doing? The S shaped balloons...

Clearly the balloons were not placed that way at first.

Someone did this. Question is which one of them. The S, the 19, not a coincidence.

I guess that's it for this post.

Like I mentioned, I know I probably forgot stuff, and there will probably several posts to follow.

But I just needed to get this one out there for you guys. And I guess we'll add on as we go (especially seeing that I've reached my image limit here, as usual).

To sum this up.

WOW!!!