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callmemickey · 8 months

Text

Cumming Home for Christmas

synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?

content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2

word count: 3.7k

notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.

Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.

Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.

It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.

Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.

But I digress.

Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.

Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.

You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.

That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.

Good girl.

You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.

The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.

Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.

You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.

“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.

He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.

It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.

Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.

You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.

“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.

“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.

He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.

His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.

Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.

But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.

“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.

With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.

A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.

“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”

You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.

A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.

Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.

Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.

Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.

That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.

Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.

“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump.

Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.

“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.

You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”

“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”

You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.

“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.

“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.

“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.

He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.

“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.

Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.

He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.

The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.

Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.

You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.

He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.

He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.

He didn’t deserve you.

Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.

You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”

He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.

You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.

“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”

Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.

You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.

You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.

You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.

Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.

Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.

#simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost Riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #ghost

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mrshesh · 9 months

Note

Hello :D I saw that you write for Modern Warfare 2, so I'd like to request how the boys would react if you ask if they'd still love you if you were a worm! Hehehehe :p

"a...worm?" - modern warfare 2 x reader

overview: mw2 men reacting to you asking if they'd still love you if you were a worm

pairing: mw2 men x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: fluff

a/n: hi anon! thanks for the request, it's really funny. i had a blast writing this. keep them coming!

x simon "ghost" riley

He would turn his head super slowly in your direction after you ask, and you can practically see the look on his face, even with his mask on 😭

He hits you with one of his side eyes, processing the question as he blinks judgementally at you.

“Fuckin' hell." He immediately sighs.

“Well? Would you?"

"Sure."

He would indeed love you, and yes, he would feed you and take care of you.

Realistically, Simon would keep you in his pocket at all times. He would also try to teach you self-defense! (Would it go horrible? Absolutely. But it’s the thought that counts.)

x john "soap" mactavish

“A worm?” He sits back in his seat, looking down at his shoes as he digs into his brain as if this is the most important question of his life. “Yeah, I think I would."

Before you know it, you’re discussing your worm life with Johnny in full detail, with him explaining how he’d build a small house for you in his backyard.

Immediately bursts out laughing at the thought of you as a worm crawling around with a gun on the battlefield.

“As long as you don’t cheat on me with some other worm lad, I’d still love ya, bonnie.”

x kyle "gaz" garrick

He, like Simon, hits you with one of his side eyes.

He actually thinks about it for a hot minute, though, going through the pros and cons of this hypothetical situation.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He concludes, shrugging as his thoughts return to the mental list of the upsides and downsides of you turning into a worm.

“The biggest pro is that I can protect you easily. The biggest con is that you’re a worm.”

He gets so into this scenario, discussing the matter with you as if it’s forthcoming.

“What about you then? Would you love me if I was a worm?” He returns the question, his mind still wandering. Would you have shelter? How would he feed you? Would he accidentally stomp on you? “Yeah, I would. We can be worms together!” “Word.”

x john price

“Where do you come up with this stuff?”

He rubs his eyes almost urgently, a light groan coming from him as he breathes heavily. He’s trying to act all tough and unbothered, but in reality, he’s melting inside. He thinks your thought process and comfortability with him is adorable.

“I’d have to be extra careful with you, wouldn’t I?”

He runs the scenario in his head, playing it back and skipping forward like a movie. He’s very conflicted. It’s hard to love a worm, but it’s not just any worm - it is you!

“Sure.” He shrugs while his eyes lock in with yours. His face is to die for. He looks so done.

Realistically, he’d keep you in an aquarium full of dirt. It would be in his office so he can keep an eye on you to assure you aren’t doing something absurd, as worms do.

x alejandro vargas

Oh, he’s living for this.

You can’t help but snicker a little when he starts laughing at your question. He’s even smacking his thigh with his hand! It can’t be that funny… it’s a simple question!

He wipes his teary eyes when he can feel his hearty laughter calm down.

“Mi amor, you’re too funny. Yes, I would.”

He’d keep you in his pocket, regularly feeding and petting you. He’d also talk to you constantly, knowing you can’t do anything about it - the thought of it makes him giggle.

“You’re not planning on turning into one, right?”

x phillip graves

“...What?”

He’s so confused. Why are you asking him this?

He rolls his eyes at your expression. Your deviance drives him insane, but it also makes his heart flutter.

He tries avoiding the question, but you keep poking and prodding - it’s safe to say he’s not getting away without an answer.

“You’re driving me crazy, sweetie.” He sighs, shaking his head in exhaustion. You can see the corners of his lips curl up when you cackle at his response.

“It would be difficult, but I’d try. Only because it’s you.”

He would have a hard time originally, but he’d grow to love your worm self. It’s still you, after all.

x könig

“Hm… I suppose I would.”

His eyes narrow when he thinks of you as a worm. He’d fancy it if you don’t turn into a worm, but he’d still absolutely adore you.

“You really would?” “Yes. But wouldn’t that be kind of difficult?” His voice is as soft as ever, which tells you he’s genuine. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, and he doesn’t want to lie to you - which is ironic since he’d take the best care of you out of all these men!

He would always keep you on his shoulder and talk to you constantly. You would always be full and entertained, and he would be inclined to pet you regularly.

He would be afraid to hurt you on accident. He’s a big guy! So he would be cautious with you.

You would also be in his hands a lot! He would love holding you.

“But I’d prefer it if you stay like this, schatz.”

x horangi

His head snaps in your direction instantly. His eyebrows furrow unhesitatingly, but he’s soon giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Jagiya… you are crazy.”

He, like Kyle, starts thinking about this as if it’s inevitably cropping up.

“I would. Just don’t slither all over my face.” “I said worm, not a snake, Jin.”

He’d keep you on his helmet/his head most of the time. He would remember to feed you every time he eats, and like Simon, he would try to teach you self-defense. He’s already protective of you, but if you were a worm? He’d be your bodyguard.

“What do worms even eat?” “I don’t know. You’re gonna have to figure that out.” “Wait- don’t tell me you’re turning into one?”

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Text

Blips In My Routine

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: A slight interlude in the "Get Off My Screen!" Series to keep you guys entertained while I write it's continuation. I apologize that it's taking so long! School's kind of been kicking my ass recently and I've had to focus more on work than my fanfics. Don't worry though, I'll still be writing more Vox content(Lord knows we don't have enough /j) as long as you guys want to see it!

A/N: I love 🥭 Anon's idea and tbh I don't put it beyond Vox to do it either, I'm not sure if this is as good as the other installments but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Btw, reader is in college so she's somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Happy reading!

You glanced at the ticking clock above the whiteboard.

It was just five more minutes before the bell would ring and free you from this boring lecture.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your gaze wandered back to the teacher's PowerPoint.

You hated this subject the most, not even because of the topic itself.

Rather, the professor could be kind of an old-timey asshole.

Thankfully though, it wasn't all that bad.

Not when you had to deal with an equally irritating digital companion anyhow.

Somehow you'd rather take Vox's bullshit over your professor's-

Speaking of, you both had fallen into a somewhat odd routine in the following months.

From greeting each other when you woke up or went to sleep-

To checking up on the other every so often within the day.

Not to mention spilling gossip when anything remotely interesting happened.

Either on his end or yours.

Like that time you saw someone's skirt snag in their locker door and just rip.

You could only snicker at their panic and shame.

The bitch highkey deserved it anyway.

Vox couldn't stop laughing when you eagerly told him all about it.

He knew you could be vicious if you wanted to.

Even if he was aware how much more inherently kind you were compared to the likes of him.

Sometimes the fact you found his companionship worth maintaining-

Or at least tolerable enough to keep-

Genuinely surprised the tech overlord.

Especially because you'd both been communicating for a little over a year by now.

It was nice interacting with someone else that weren't Velvette or Valentino.

Not that he'd ever openly admit to it.

It wasn't like Vox hadn't seen or heard you either, despite the fact he couldn't directly mess with the microphone or camera on your devices.

Your photos and files had more than enough stuff.

You often left him imagining your reactions and voice whenever the both of you chatted.

After all, most of your interactions were practically texting.

Sometimes you even wondered if Vox was constantly bored to end up finding companionship with you.

Or maybe he was lonely, who knows.

You genuinely couldn't be fucked.

He was an interesting guy and that was all that kind of mattered to you at the moment.

Your notepad window popping up snapped you out of that train of thought.

Glancing over at your laptop screen, the small desktop pet Vox gave you merely sat in the corner pointing at the notepad.

Oh it could do angry emotes too-

A slurry of words started pouring into the blank open text window, you figured Vox was probably having another shitty day.

Geez, who would've thought that hell would actually be absolutely crappy?

Well, let's see what he's complaining about this time...

This man was really typing way faster than you could read-

You were able to garner pretty quick what he was bitching about though.

Even if you kind of found the source of his irritation quite childish and kinda stupid.

"It's so dumb! The fact I can only talk to you with this goddamn thing is driving me insane!"

"Aaaand? What's wrong with the notepad? You also have the desktop companion."

You definitely started calling it that only because Vox was getting pissy that you were referring to it as a 'pet'-

"It can only do so much dollface, it's just glorified texting at this point. Besides, the tiny version of me is just an animated emoji keyboard."

"Well you already mess with my software regardless of what I tell you, what's stopping the great 'Technology Overlord' from hacking my camera and microphone?"

"Haha, very funny doll. Don't you think I would've done it already if I could?"

At this point you kinda just wanted to laugh at the whole situation.

Vox, a demon, one who could control electronics to his every whim-

Or so he claims.

Was being pissy about not being able to talk to you properly.

You couldn't tell if that was supposed to be endearing or hilarious.

He always got worked up over the smallest inconveniences.

You saw it as him being just very observant-

But it could also highkey be from his captain control freak tendencies.

"Then just make an app or something, you'll figure it out. Mess with the software settings or whatever."

That was the last message you wrote before the school bell suddenly rang out loud and clear.

You didn't even read his reply before shutting your laptop down and arranging your belongings.

Soon enough, you were the first one out of the classroom and more than ready to go home.

Vox knew you'd shut down your laptop after he got hit with his custom Voxtech screensaver.

Similarly to the wallpaper, he'd changed your screensaver to something more on brand.

While he did take your suggestion into account, a part of him wondered why he didn't bother trying in the first place.

But given the issues with him trying to access the built-in camera and microphone-

Vox felt a little concerned that modifying your devices too much could corrupt them.

That alongside all of your files and the data you had stored.

Wait...

Concern?!

He didn't actually care about your shit did he?

Oh fuck it!

He'll do whatever he wants to!

He was still careful not to really change much, he knows how annoying file corruption is and he didn't want to actually damage your data in case it had stuff you needed.

You weren't surprised that he'd taken your words literally-

You noticed a peculiar looking app appeared on all of your devices when you had arrived home.

That's a really fancy looking V design, was this Vox's doing?

Upon opening the app, you were greeted to a slightly odd looking interface.

It looked kind of like a more... sci-fi-esque styled chat room?

You wanted to say it lowkey looked like an Omegle room-

Before you could really nitpick at the design though, a text notification popped up on your phone.

You had just set everything up too, it seems like it came from the new app.

"Testing, testing. Are you getting this (Y/N)?"

To say you were amazed at what Vox had done was an understatement.

He was able to do so much in just so little time-

Just- how???

Oh, right- you should probably reply to that-

"Yeah yeah, I gotchu."

"Fucking finally! Working around your firewalls and antivirus was an absolute nightmare!"

Aaaaaaaand here came the usual ranting and bitching-

You just threw your phone on the bed and left to take a shower and freshen up while he kept at it.

Vox was actually quite proud he got the app to work.

Especially without affecting the existing system on your computer much.

If anything, it wasn't any different from the games or social media applications that already existed on your computer.

Granted, when he first booted the app to try it- the darn thing kept crashing and glitching.

But that was easily and swiftly dealt with.

Well, after much frustration and screaming but yes- taken care of.

By the time you came back, you saw an animated version of your wallpaper appear windowed in the app.

Right... that was supposed to be his face.

"Hello? (Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

What-

What the fucking FUCK-

Apparently, the thing you thought that was just a gif or an emoticon was actually a livestream of Vox's face.

And that was how he sounded like?

Okay that seemed pretty on brand for a telecasting television now that you think about it-

But how the hell did he manage to do this-

"Vox?! What the hell!"

You yelled out in retaliation, only growing more confused when Vox didn't reply or just kept repeating if you could hear him.

So he couldn't hear you, but he found a way to sort of project himself into your device.

What kind of upside-down thing is this?

Picking up the phone, you quickly used the chat-box to reply.

"I can hear you, but I don't think you can hear me?"

Vox just audibly cursed from what you could guess was frustration, staying silent and presumably typing out a reply.

Just how long had he been trying to fix this problem?

"I can't access your cameras or microphone whatever I do dollface, this was my last resort."

Seeing his live reactions allowed you to notice the genuine frustration and exasperation he had with the situation.

It kind of made you feel a little guilty for just brushing him off all the time now.

You always thought it was quite... old-timey for Vox to want to talk to you face to face.

Hold a "proper" conversation as he put it.

But maybe that was just because he grew that fond of your company.

Geez, what a sap.

"It's fine dude, I'm glad you made a specially designated space for our conversations though. My notes were starting to get cluttered with our conversations stuck in there with my school stuff anyway."

You could swear the small smile you saw on his face made saying all that worth it.

There really wasn't any reason for you two to switch mediums, but the new app wasn't unwelcome.

You were really starting to care more about this dumb TV head.

As you and Vox went back into comfortable regular conversation, you found solace as both you and your companion once again fell back into the odd routine you grew used to.

Come morning however, you were seriously reconsidering giving Vox the idea about making that custom application.

It was a stupidly large can of worms that you didn't even realize existed-

Notification after notification, you wondered just how much time the technology demon had on his hands to constantly bother you.

"Vox, I know you're happy about your app but can you stop spam sending me memes for five seconds?"

"Eh, not feeling it."

"Go to hell you dumb picturebox."

"Already here dollface, already here."

You facepalmed.

What an idiot.

Well, he was your idiot.

A/N: I'm leaning towards this being more than a just friends thing, dunno if I'll make it romantic or not in the continuation but I'd reckon that Vox and reader would get pretty close by now sooooo hahaha have fun y'all :D

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #x reader #Get Off My Screen Series

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

Note

hi!! i use tumblr on safari - so i’m unable to answer any messages - but i would like to put in a request for conrad fisher x fem! reader smut!

if your comfortable, could you do a imagine with an innocent/virgin reader that is constantly flustered by conrad?

thank you so much!! <<33

champagne & sunshine - c.f**

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i get so nervous posting smut (for literally no reason😭), but i still hope you enjoy this 🩶 warning for smut.

the bonfires were always a good time, usually. once you grow up, the hype of them dies down a bit. belly begged y/n to come, being her older sister figure. it was y/n’s birthday, so belly convinced her that it would be fun. besides, y/n’s mom had been letting her drink today, as long as she was home and with close people. y/n figured she’d leave it at that, not bothering to take anything at the party.

she threw one of the cans in the bag at the corner of the beach, avoiding the full boxes of hard seltzer as her eye landed on conrad and jeremiah entering the beach. luckily, the fire wasn’t bright enough to illuminate her bright red cheeks. she walked away from the drinks, turning away from conrad but also trying to make herself seem noticeable.

she’d grown up with the conklins and fishers next door, but she always had the biggest crush on conrad. every single time he walked in, her heart raced and almost everyone knew it. belly always teased her, someone noticing before she even knew she liked him.

conrad had always had his eyes on y/n. conrad, y/n, and steven had been the oldest, so it was usually him and her together. she acted like she barely knew him, when he probably knew her better than anyone else. now that they were both eighteen, legal adults, they could do pretty much whatever they pleased. somehow, y/n still found herself blushing like a little girl. conrad was one of the first to show her any attention. boys never cared about her at home, and he always made her feel wanted. she was always a shadow to her friends, who had guys clinging to them. she sat around with other people talking about sex and other stuff that y/n pretended to know about. it made her a little bit embarrassed, but who really cares? her whole friend group would laugh at her humorously if they found out she was a virgin, but again, who cares, right?

it wasn’t until she was sitting on the warm sand, feeling it in her hands as she slid them across the floor, that conrad sat next to her on the beach. the music was blaring, so y/n brought herself away to just observe people for a little bit. someone must’ve had the same idea if they tread all the way over to sit with her.

“you got dragged here, too?” conrad asks first.

“belly, jeremiah for you, i assume?”

“the one and only,” conrad laughs, as he kicks away an empty bottle. “you’re not drinking anything?”

“nah, i don’t really feel like it tonight. i’d rather just enjoy my birthday sober, unlike everyone else,” she tells him, pointing to the stumbling people surrounding the fire.

“you’re not the only one,” conrad says. “so it’s just us, huh?”

“y-yeah,” y/n stutters. “i mean, i didn’t even bother getting all dressed up for this shit.”

“i think you look beautiful either way,” he says, and when y/n looks up, his eyes are softly on hers, refusing to crack the shell between them. y/n pauses, looking at conrad dumbfounded. she never has boys call her beautiful, let alone the one she’s been hopelessly in love with for years. but, they always say love hits you when you least expect it. y/n thought that was a lie, but she really believed it for now.

“you too, connie,” she spits out, not bothering to change the adjective for him because everyone is beautiful. he adjusts himself to sit closer to y/n, trying to relieve some of the tension. his eyes can’t help but wander across her body, taking in every part of her that’s breathtaking to him. and the cropped tank top and shorts that she’s wearing isn’t fucking helping his case either. she’d be lying if she wasn’t checking him out, too. his sharp jawline, his hands, his radiant eyes, his lips could never be missed by y/n. someone this pretty deserves to be looked at, they both think without speaking.

“do you wanna head out? come to my place for a bit?” conrad asks, standing up and holding his hand out as she nods up at him, anticipating a night alone.

before y/n can even begin to think straight, their lips are crashed together in his car. she’s leaning over the cup holders in the center, and her hands are against his face. his hands are placed on her hips as he can’t help but steer his mind away from his tongue in her mouth. he never in a million years thought he’d see this side of her, and she never thought she’d see it in herself. she’s kissed guys before, but never this intimately. conrad pulls away, smiling against her lips before connecting them again. every single time this happens, y/n swears her heart skips a beat in the best way possible. like their lips set off fireworks in the car. they decided to leave the vehicle, climbing up the stairs, trying not to disturb the moms watching a movie. conrad places his hands on her thighs, lifting her up and placing y/n gently on his bed. he climbs up as well, letting her legs wrap around him as their kiss does nothing but intensify.

her hands roam all around his body, his waist, his shoulders, his neck. the only time they separate is for a breath of air, just until they can return again. conrad’s wander over her chest, placing one of his hands to squeeze her breasts.

“is this ok?” conrad waits for confirmation until he gets a yes. after, in response, y/n tugs off conrad’s shirt, discarding it to the floor somewhere in his room. her hands run down his back. “if you want to stop, tell me and we’ll stop the second you say it.”

“ok,” she peeps out. “but if this does go any further, i’ve never done any of… this, before.”

“we can stop, y/n, whenever you want.”

“no! no, i want to keep going. can we just, go slower, maybe?”

“anything you need,” conrad reassures her before moving down the waistband of her shorts. “can i take these off?”

“yes,” she tells him, clearly and assertively as he takes off the tank top, too, leaving her in just a gray bra on his bed.

“have you ever… ever been eaten out before?” he asks. she shakes her head no, slightly embarrassed so she puts her head down to cover it, but conrad sees right through it. “hey, look at me. you’re ok, i promise. can i keep going?”

“yeah, please,” she says, squirming in discomfort from her own arousal. the feeling is unfamiliar, wanting someone to touch her so bad as it’s at her fingertips. someone willing to love her is right in front of her. conrad begins to peel off y/n’s underwear, throwing it off the bed like his shirt, ending up somewhere on the floor. she pulls her legs apart, spreading them as conrad’s eyes fall deeper.

“god, y/n,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“conrad,” she begs, as he flattens himself down trying to ignore his own erection. he wants to pleasure her first, and knowing he’s the first one too might boost his ego a bit. but conrad would never admit that.

his face is an inch away from her pussy, beginning to kiss her inner thighs as she groans from the teasing. finally, his tongue makes contact with y/n’s slit, gathering up her arousal before swirling it around her clit. y/n’s head falls back onto the pillow again in pure pleasure, letting out a quiet moan for the first time. “oh, fuck yes,” she speaks out, making conrad try to contain a smile. he places his tongue on her clit again, moving his flat tongue up and down. he switches between those movements and wrapping his lips around it, sucking on her clit, causing her to fail at concealing her moans. y/n’s hand moves down to conrad’s hair, trying to ground herself on the bed from the ecstasy.

the second her climax starts rolling up onto her, her legs start shaking and that tells conrad that you’re close. “f-fuck, con- oh my god,” she pants out, trying to formulate words but failing. her orgasm creeps up and sends her over the edge, releasing a strong moan from her lips as she comes down from the high, his fingers are gently circling over her clit.

“that was, um, holy shit, that was amazing, conrad,” she smiles as he pulls himself back up to her.

“are you feeling alright?”

“better than ever,” she says, making conrad laugh as he moves over to his drawer. he pulls out the box of condoms before taking one out.

“do you wanna keep going?”

“yeah, i do.”

conrad moves back over, dropping his pants and rolling to condom on. y/n gazes at his length, wondering how she would be able to take it. with conrad here, she knew she would be ok, so they continued. he walks back over, pulling her legs apart and making eye contact with her again. “remember, we can always stop no matter what, ok? just say stop, and we can stop.” she nods and he leans in closer. he plants a sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away, it was her turn to smile against his lips.

once settled in between her legs, conrad begins to run his tip up her slit. he confirms that she’s doing alright and that she’s ready to keep going. after he’s aware, he slides his dick into her, making her nose scrunch and release a high moan.

“you ok?”

“yes,” she replies. “yeah, you can go faster.”

conrad speeds up his pace, thrusting himself into y/n. she didn’t feel outright pain, just discomfort. that discomfort soon turned into pleasure, causing her mouth to hang open. “you feel so good, y/n/n, god damn.”

y/n’s hand falls down to her clit, circling it until she starts to bring that now familiar feeling up. conrad continues to keep the same pace, not changing it to make her feel comfortable and in control, just as much as he is. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long,” he spits out, not thinking about his words. y/n heard him loud and clear, but she’s too distracted by her orgasm coming up.

“conrad i’m close,” she tells him.

“me too, baby,” he says, breathless. “come for me, y/n.”

her release leaves her with stars in her head, the feeling better than anything she’s ever experienced. she was always worrying about sex and what it might be like, but with conrad, he made it amazing for her. she knew he was the right guy. he brings himself down, leaning onto her as he releases himself into the condom. he pulls out of her, throwing away the condom and pulling his boxers back on. y/n grabs her underwear, as she stands up wobbly. her legs are weak from her two orgasms from conrad, making him chuckle in the corner.

“hey, um,” y/n starts. “thank you.”

“yeah, of course,” he stutters a bit, not sure of what to say but trying to still wrap his head around it. he means, he just had sex with the hottest girl in cousins, what is he supposed to say? “you know, i meant what i said. i’ve liked you so much, for a long time.”

she just stares at him, confirming that she’s not in some dream. “i’ve been in love with you since the day i first saw you on the beach,” conrad steps over to her. placing his hands back on her bare waist and kissing her passionately again. he pulls back again to sadly, break the kiss off.

“we should probably clean up a bit, before everyone comes back and yells at us for leaving,” he says, brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. she nods, beginning to pull the rest of her clothes on. thank god she left that party when she did, or she would still love conrad, but never say it.

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llamagoddessofficial · 4 months

Note

GRJRHRJDJRJD YOUR FARM SANS STUFF IS MAKING MY BRAIN BUZZZZZZ

What if some rich city dude started vying for Farm Sans' love interest? Like the dude is a total douche, and he turns around and tries to take Sans' girl? >:3

It's probably one of those assholes who buys a second/third home in the countryside, out-pricing local families, so he can have an 'escape' he only lives in for a month out of the year. He's in town to 'get away from it all' for a while.

This dude sets off all of Sans' alarm bells when he flirts with you. With any other person, Sans' reaction would depend on whether or not you were into them. He'd respectfully back off if you genuinely liked someone. But honestly, this douche's vibes are so rancid that Sans is going to be constantly brittle and cold and on the offensive. He has a few tactics up his sleeve.

For one - he uses his community connections. This guy (we'll call him Douche) is NOT welcome here, and Sans rubs it in. Country communities are tight-knit, can be pretty closed off, and are often actively hostile to people like Douche. Douche can barely buy groceries, people either ignore him or speak in cold and brusque tones, the snub from Sans and Papyrus means people will hardly look at him. Not to mention you've been so deeply accepted that it's as if you were born and raised there; nobody wants Douche to win you over. With or without Sans' encouragement, other folk will gossip to you about what a terrible person Douche is. "Oh, don't hang around with his sort, MC. You're such a sweetheart."

Sans is relatively oblivious to how his physique is attractive to you. But he's not oblivious to how physically intimidating he can be. He enjoys casual displays of his overwhelming strength, and the terror he witnesses in Douche's eyes; nothing shuts Douche up faster than having to watch his romantic rival wrangle a bull with just his hands. Sans will wander up to Douche (particularly while Douche is trying to chat you up) holding a sack of grain in one hand like it's nothing - "hey buddy, think you can hold this for me for a few secs?" - and then Sans will watch in glee as Douche tips over under its weight.

... Sans' favourite, though, is playing mind games. He fully leans into the 'dumb country guy' stereotype, acting like he's lazy and stupid, playing up his accent and easygoing tone. Until anytime Douche tries to seem smart. Then, in a searingly faux-friendly manner, Sans nitpicks him apart, correcting him on even the most complicated issues. "hey man, pretty sure socrates said that, not plato." "actually it's gravitational lapsing that causes that effect. lensin' is somethin' else entirely." "well i don't know about no NFTs... but i do know the blockchain is only as strong as its weakest link, an' deregulation makes it impossible to recover any phished money. seems like an inherently flawed system and no real way to store yer hard earned cash. but what do i know?" This also doubles as a way of making Sans look better in front of you, because you had no idea he was so smart.

Douche honestly doesn't stand a chance. But it's fun to watch him flounder.

#llamagines #sans spends a few evil moments of joy watching douche sweat and stumble and strain under the weight of 1 single grain bag #then hes like “here lemme get that for you.”#puts it on his shoulder with 3 other bags and whistles while he walks

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sluttyminghao · 11 months

Text

gamers do it better | c.sc x j.ww

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x jeon wonwoo x female!reader ♡ genre: smut ♡ w.c.: 2k ♡ this fic contains: messy gamers wonwoo and cheol, mention of mutual pining/longing over years, cockwarming, blowjob, mentions of fucking/multiple rounds, degradation (whore, slut), praise, and probably other stuff I've missed ♡ a/n: the brainrot is real...anyways enjoy! thank you to @idyllic-ghost for proof reading and giving tips on how to be More Feral <3

reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

Living with two men had seemed like a great idea initially until you moved in with them. You were constantly cleaning up after them, making sure they ate proper meals besides drinking energy drinks, and scolding them to go outside for just 10 minutes a day to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

You had lived with Seungcheol and Wonwoo for a number of years. At first, it was because you all took the same Biology class together in college and it was convenient for you to commute together at the same time, but even after your classes finished, you found yourself emotionally attached to these men and couldn't bear to part with them, and the feeling was mutual.

The last 12 months or so had been…more challenging than the last few years. There had been some longing glances from the two men, especially if you had walked around the apartment in just a sports bra and spandex shorts. The occasional graze or touch over your exposed skin had also been noted, and made your heart rate quicken, but nothing had ever been initiated.

Many nights you went into your room and your hands wandered to lower places while thinking about how they’d treat you, how they’d bend you into a pretzel and fill you with cum. But it all dissipated when you went back out to the kitchen and found plates and food littering the kitchen bench. Typical men.

It was a warm summer evening, the sun still peaking over the horizon and bathing your kitchen and living area in a golden glow that took your breath away. As you stood over the stove, contemplating your life choices over the bubbling water with noodles, you hear a sudden shout coming from one of your roommate's rooms, sparking interest.

Normally, Wonwoo is a very quiet and reserved person. He makes small talk with you if you eat a meal together, but apart from that remains either in his room gaming or leaves home before you wake and comes back after you fall asleep. Even still, he pays the bills on time and is extremely good-looking, so you can’t ask for more than that.

Turning the stove off, you place the wooden spoon down and pad to Wonwoo’s room, the door closed as per usual. You rap on the door quickly, and a small mumble of a ‘come in’ can be heard from inside, so you turn the handle and squint against the bright light emitting from his screen computer.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.”

“Oh, I’m fine, that was Seungcheol who screamed because he’s a little bitch.”

Your eyes drift across to the fluffy-haired man sitting next to him, who's staring at Wonwoo, shocked. He shoves Wonwoo’s shoulder and rolls his eyes, before turning around to face you with an unimpressed look on his stunning features. Seungcheol was stunning in his own way; fluffy black locks he’d permed a few weeks ago, bare-faced and the sweetest smile around.

“I am not a little bitch! He purposefully gave me a jumpscare!” He pouts as you chuckle and Wonwoo follows suit, only for him to immediately switch up and jump from his spot on the bed, stalking towards you until you’ve stepped back as far as you can go, aka hitting the wall with your back.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I-” Your justification is cut off by Seungcheol dragging his fingers up your exposed arm, goosebumps raising in their path. You can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as he places a hand next to your head, and your palms grow sweaty. He grins and beckons Wonwoo to come over, who’s been watching the interaction intently ever since Seungcheol had backed you against the wall.

Everything about this interaction is like your dreams coming to life right in front of your eyes, the only thing that would place the cherry on top of the cake would be if they actually did bend you like a pretzel and have their way with you.

You feel small as both men stand in front of you, their eyes drinking you in as if they haven't had lingering stares on you before (which they definitely have). You don’t try to stop them as they let their hands roam your figure, fingers fiddling with loose fabric before eventually pulling your clothing off piece by piece until you’re left in nothing but your white cotton underwear.

“Don’t you look so cute like this?” Seungcheol comments, his calloused fingers tracing your nipples and causing them to harden. He smirks as he watches them pebble up, not wasting any time dipping his head down to capture one between his lips, letting the bud roll over his tongue lewdly.

A moan escapes your lips, which is quickly swallowed by Wonwoo who shoves his tongue down your throat messily. Their free hands are roaming untouched parts of your body, and while there’s a nagging in the back of your mind about how you shouldn't be doing this with your roommates, there’s a louder voice yelling at you in your brain for not doing this sooner.

“Look how easily you’re giving yourself up for us, already soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo mumbles against your lips as his thick fingers glide over the cotton, the wet spot undeniable as he presses his fingers against it and watches smugly as you keen at the pleasure.

You can only gasp as Seungcheol pulls himself off your nipple and attaches himself to your neck instead, sucking a bruise into the flesh that will be purple within a couple of hours. Wonwoo glances over at his screen and curses, before heading back to his seat, leaving you and Seungcheol in a confused and lustful state.

“I didn’t realize my next game was about to start, why don’t you be a doll and come and sit on my cock? It’s aching just thinking about being sheathed inside that perfect cunt of yours.”

You feel the wet spot grow larger at his filthy words.

When you don’t move from your spot, Seungcheol takes it upon himself to drag you by your hand to where Wonwoo is sitting and readjusting his headset to prepare for his game. With a small groan, Seungcheol rips your panties off your body, mumbling something about buying you some more later, before positioning you over Wonwoo.

A low whistle escapes Wonwoo’s throat at the sight of your dripping cunt, and feels his cock straining tightly against his sweats. He can’t take it anymore and quickly shoves his sweats and boxers down to pool at his ankles, letting his cock spring up to attention. Your eyes widen at the sight, pre cum beading on the fat mushroom head, a prominent vein trailing down the shaft and his balls twitching in anticipation.

He chuckles but doesn't say a word as he grips your waist to pull you over his cock, and lets the tip slide against your clit, a garbled whine escaping your lips at the feeling. He grins and taps the head of his cock against your clit teasingly multiple times, and with each teasing pass you feel your whines grow louder and needier. In a moment of lust, you feel Wonwoo’s lips come up to nibble on your jaw, sending a variety of feelings through your body.

“W-wonu…please…need you,” your breathing is shaky and your words are slurred, the teasing from both men going to your head and sending you into a frenzy. If you didn’t cum soon you think you might just have to grab your vibrator to finish the job.

Luckily, it doesn't come to that, and your hand comes to rest on his shoulders as he finally guides his cock into you after teasing you mercilessly, the pressure of his cock finally filling you up makes your head swim and your thighs shake.

“O-oh fuck…” your voice trails off and you feel Wonwoo twitch inside of you as he finally bottoms out, a low groan filling your ears as your cunt squeezes around him like a vice. Seungcheol is losing his mind standing next to you, his own cock straining against his basketball shorts.

As you grow accustomed to Wonwoo’s size, you rotate your hips and begin the process of bouncing up and down. When his large hand comes to rest on your hips and grip tightly, you halt all motion and bring your head up to stare into Wonwoo’s lust-filled eyes.

“I didn’t say to move, did I? I just want you to sit on my lap and be a good little slut, and maybe once I’m done with my game you'll be rewarded.” His voice is short as he refocuses his attention on the game, delving right in and becoming immersed in the content.

You whimper as you clench helplessly around his cock, your fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt as he keeps you in place, despite still playing his game. You can’t even see him but you’re sure he’s smirking even while smashing the keyboard quickly.

“In the meantime, why don’t you be a good whore for me and help me out, hm?” Seungcheol’s husky voice has grown deeper and makes you clench, causing Wonwoo to chuckle. Your eyes open and you can see Seungcheol standing in front of you, thick cock in his hand pumping slowly.

As if on instinct, you open your mouth for him to place his cock inside, and you’re immediately met with the salty taste of his precum. You moan softly and start bobbing your head to take more of him in, which has his head falling back and one of his hands entangling in your hair, tugging on the strands harshly.

The sounds filling the room are lewd; the wet sounds of your mouth bobbing quickly over Seungcheol’s cock and how your cunt is still filled with Wonwoo’s cock, the occasional clench of your pussy sending a wave of arousal flooding down his cock and creating a puddle of slick on his chair.

“Your mouth is like heaven, sweetheart, been waiting for y-years to do this,” Seungcheol praises you as his hips stutter when you deepthroat him particularly well. The grip he has on your hair is beginning to sting, but you couldn't care less when the arousal in your abdomen is beginning to grow by the second.

“Son of a bitch!”

The loud profanity has you jerking off Seungcheol’s cock abruptly and looking at Wonwoo with concern. You can hear Seungcheol groan in annoyance and move your head back to his cock, where you teasingly take the tip into your mouth and suck lightly.

“Ya lose your game, big shot?” Seungcheol teases Wonwoo, who quickly whips his head around to stare the older down. He removes his headset and raises the middle finger to Seungcheol, who reciprocates quickly before focusing his attention back on you.

“Like you can play any better, especially with a slut in your lap.”

The degradation has you clenching around Wonwoo’s cock and moaning around Seungcheol’s, simultaneously making them throw their heads back and groan. You grin to yourself and make the effort to grind against Wonwoo and deepthroat Seungcheol before you’re pulled off both of them and shoved onto the bed.

You don’t have any time to react as they both crawl up next to you, Seungcheol now taking position between your legs and Wonwoo stroking his cock and tapping the fat head against your lips.

“Are you gonna show us just how much of a slut you can be?”

You lick your lips and spread your legs, inviting both of them to do as they please. It’s going to be a long, long night for all three of you.

taglist: @jihoonliker, @asmigirme04, @ny0sang, @cixrosie, @nabiee-x, @rinshabitat, @weakforsvt, @lenireads, @baldi-2, @floweryjessy, @joshuawifey, @enhacolor, @nikkixpenguin, @@yourfavoritefreakyhan, @valentxi, @hanniecheesecake, @vern0nsworld, @tigermoonbiss, @jeanjacketjesus, @excommunicado-03, @asjkdk, @humankimbap, @woozarts

@eaudenana, @weird-bookworm, @toruro

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#sluttyhao fics #sluttyhao smut #svthub #kpop smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen x reader #kpop fics #wonwoo x reader #seungcheol x reader

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flamingpudding · 5 months

Text

Drake's family secret #2

Previous Part

Tim was prepared, he had done as much research / digging as he could squeeze in between meetings, even going so far as rescheduling some of them to get more time until the tour guide would lead the high school students to his office.

Some things he had found were worrying even to the point of wanting to just take Danny and move him permanently to Gotham. Even if he knew that Gotham wasn't the safest city either. He had seen the other boy's interest in the aerospace department through the cameras, but with his digging he had found that Danny had been on a fast track for a Junior Space Program with the grades to support it.

Diggin that information up had made Tim proud, thinking that if there was something good about the Drake family it was that both Danny and him appear to have a very good set of brain cells. Though that proud feeling didn't last long when he dug further.

Because then an accident happened to him, leaving him with his last medical record stating a heart condition. After that there were no more dated medical records. In addition the timing of the accident lined up with when Danny's grades pummeled. He went from a A student to a C student in the month following the accident. Not only that but it also appeared that he racked up quite the number of teacher complaints to which he then got labeled as a delinquent student in his files.

Tim had narrowed his eyes at the screen as he lined up the timeline, with some additional information he had found about Amity Park. That information had not been easy to dig up, he had rescheduled at least two meetings so he could work uninterrupted on the strange firewalls that were protecting it, and even then he only got a handful of newspaper clips out of it. But that had been enough, for now.

Because Danny Fenton's accident and declining grades lined up with the appearance of a ghost menace hero Invis-o-Bill. A coincidence? Definitely not. Looked like hero-ing wasn't just a Wayne family thing.

Either way Tim had dug up a lot in a short amount of time about his possible brother. He was still missing a lot of puzzle pieces but he figured he could probably get that information once he made a successful first contact with Danny.

Which was about to happen in a little more than 5 minutes.

His eyes flicked to the door, then to the live security camera feet on his laptop. Yep they were right outside his door. Taking a deep breath and closing his laptop Tim moved to lean on his desk from the front, facing the door.

His plan was easy. give the kids a little motivational speech, spout some inspiring nonsense of 'you too can achieve great things' before dismissing cheerfully but hold Danny back, because his last name was Fenton and Tim 'recognised' it from a list of potential scientist to investment. Have a successful talk and show some interest in the - weird he actually didn't want to touch on but probably will have to consider because Danny had an accident that gave him meta powers that made him decide to go out as meta hero - stuff Danny's foster parents were researching. Ruffle his hair and subtitle pluck one of his hairs in that motion.

For a first DNA test that would be enough. Even if blood or spit would definitely be better, since he had no guarantee to also get the hair root if he just plucked one.

When the knock on his door resounded he cheerfully told them to come in and started phase one of his grand first contact plan. If anyone asked him what he told the students afterwards, he probably wouldn't be able to recount anything he told them as 'motivational speech'. He did his best though to not let his eyes constantly wander over towards the boy.

He took a little satisfaction in the fact that one of the two close friends his possible brother had appeared to be starry eyed at the fact that they got to meet him. That definitely would come in handy later on.

When some of the students started to look rather bored with their attention wandering, Tim thought that this was probably the best timing to enter phase two. Dismissing them with some scripted farewell words, he waited a little. As he expected Danny and his two friends lacked behind when the students left his office.

He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Mr. Fenton?"

Danny looked at him wide eyed as he turned around to stare at him and Tim internally laughed. "Your parents are on our list of Scientists for possible investment. If you have the time, would it be possible to have a little chat right now?"

He noted how Danny exchanged a look with his friends and the girl among them instantly started to glare at him suspiciously as Danny's seemed to narrow. He cleared his throat once more. "I will ensure that you will get safely back to the hotel your school is staying at. I just think this would be the perfect chance to learn a bit more about ecto-science? That was what they called it, right?"

Okay, plan was not going as hoped as Danny was now full on glaring, not as heated as the girl but still glaring. His other friends had now also lost the starry eyed look in his eyes and was watching him with clear suspicion.

Damage control, damage control! Stop sounding so formal! His mind screamed as Tim once more cleared his throat nervously. "If now is inconvenient, maybe we could meet for a coffee later? I really am hoping to learn a bit more than what's written in stuffy reports."

"We got some free exploring time tomorrow afternoon. It's Tim Drake! We could at least hear him out." One of his friends stage whispered to Danny who continued to watch him with narrowed, glaring eyes.

"Tucker, no." Danny whispered back before addressing Tim. "Sorry, I have no interest in my parents work."

Before Tim could say anything else Danny dragged his friends out of his office to catch up with the other students. Leaving Tim stunned before he dragged a hand down his face. So much for phase two of his first contact plan.

"Okay noted, his parents' research is not the best way to open up contact." Tim muttered before walking around his desk and opening his laptop again. He needed to readjust his plans. Luckily one of Danny's friends, Tucker, gave him some valuable information.

Maybe he could convince Steph or Duke to go to the mall with him to make it appear more natural. Dick could also be an option, he was in town at the moment. But either way that would also risk further questions, when he 'coincidentally' ran into Danny Fenton. He didn't think reasoning with Dick about some good old brotherly bonds would distract his eldest brother long enough.

Maybe it was about time to get at least one of his siblings in on the Drake's family secret.

Or not depending, he could also check their exploring route via the city cameras and then just go coincidentally into the same coffee or food place Danny and his friends happened to go to.

Yeah that sounded better than getting his siblings involved already.

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hells-wasabii · 3 months

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Hi!!! Can I have Vox with an s/o who is overlord of possession. Style kind of like a doll and can possess people and control dolls and stuff. Bonus if they can also take off their limbs and stuff

a/n:I'll admit i wasn't sure how to approach this one, but i hope its alright!

Character: Vox

Type: Headcanons (Vox x Overlord of possession!reader, general)

From the moment he arrived in Hell, he heard talk of the hierarchy. Overlords were the strongest of the sinners, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't rise to the top. So when meeting you, he initially keeps it cool with a grin and a handshake but it all changes when he finds out just what you're capable of. He first thinks of you as a rival. Why wouldn't he? You were an overlord who could control other demons. That was his thing! Sure, you'd been in hell longer and had your powers for some time before he even got there, but he made it cool.

The two of you couldn't be more different. He was based on technology that was constantly progressing, which meant his look was changing all the time too, but you remained the same. your means of possession were ways that had been tried and true, so there was no need for many upgrades. Why fix what's not broken, as they say.

When you say take off their limbs, my mind really wanders to Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas. your limbs can be detached wherever they're sown, but can also be controlled when they're not on. He shrieked the first time it happened too. 100%. all the while you're bending over to pick up you just give him a look as he coughs into his fist as a means to try to cover it up.

It isn’t until he sees you in action with dolls and the like that his apprehension turns into interest

Vox is the sort of demon who works in groups so he’d undoubtedly try to recruit you to the Vee’s. You don’t mind changing your name, do you? Gotta keep with the aesthetic. Ha! Just kidding, unless you’d be down enough to actually do it.

While joining the group wouldn’t be too bad of a choice, an alliance would be a better way to go instead. You had ties to the older overlords as well, it wouldn’t exactly be wise to dive head-first into a group like that with the sort of connections you had.

Vox does think your means of possession is intriguing. His abilities he understood. Television could be mind-numbing and overly persuasive, but you pulled your powers from older practices.

That being said, he's inspired! Imagine what the two of you could accomplish if you worked together! He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to the possibilities.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox headcanons #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #general headcanons

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 5 months

Text

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is.

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back. He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #netflix daredevil #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock hurt/comfort #matt murdock my beloved #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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helen-with-an-a · 28 days

Text

I am an Adult pt 3.5

Hi. So I wanted to a sub-chapter kinda thing about Lena's side of the relationship/first few months etc. So here it is. Also shout out to the anons who gave me some inspo for this - u really helped. Also, I would like to preface this by saying I don't really know much about the Wolfsburg team as a whole, so if anything's wrong please let me know.

In this fic - the bold text is meant to be in German (but I didn't want bascially the whole thing to be unreadable for people) so just imagine it's in German

Barca Femeni x Reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader / VfL Wolfsburg x Lena Oberdorf

Description: R and Lena's relationship from Lena's perspective

Word Count: 2.7k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4

Lena was too smiley. That was the first thing Jule noticed after the Barca match. The hotel they were staying in was nice, the weather was very warm compared to Wolfsburg, and the day off was well deserved.

“What’s up with you?” She asked her best friend, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Lena dismissed her as she fell onto her bed, phone in her hand.

“Speaking English now, are we?” Jule teased, studying Lena. She had a slight flush to her skin that wasn’t there this morning. She seemed too happy for someone who had just been ‘exploring’ all day. “What did you do today?”

“Nothing … uh, nothing much; I just wandered ‘round a bit,” Lena said distractedly. Jule hummed in false agreement. Something was going on.

A gasp pulled Jule from her inspection. It was Lena, staring joyfully at her phone before hurriedly typing away. Ok, something was most definitely going on, and Jule was going to find out what and soon.

“I’m going …” Lena cleared her throat and shook her head as if to shake away the English. “I’m going to go shower … uh … yeh.” She gathered up her stuff and headed to the attached bathroom, leaving her phone on the bed. Perfect, it was time to snoop; Jule congratulated the universe on its opportunistic timing.

[Initial]💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’: https://www.spotify......

L💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......

Who was ‘[Initial]💙❤️’ ? And why were they sending Lena a link to old One Direction songs? Specifically, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’? And why was Lena sending a song back telling them ‘next time’? The bathroom door opened a little.

“Jule, did I leave my phone?”

“Uhhhhhh, yeh, you did. Here,” Jule quickly locked Lena’s phone and rushed to hand it to her.

“Gracias,” Lena said absentmindedly, closing the door again. Spanish? Since when did Lena speak Spanish?

Slowly, the pieces slid into place for Jule. Lena had been out all day. Lena came back too happy and constantly looking at her phone. Lena replied in English and Spanish. Lena had received a text telling her that someone should have kissed her. Lena responded with the promise of next time. Lena was definitely on a date.

It wasn’t confirmed for Jule until the return leg. Much like in Barcelona, Lena disappeared all day and reappeared, looking far too happy the day after. She definitely went on another date.

“So,” Jule said as she cornered Lena in the locker room during recovery. “How was your date?”

“Oh, it was great. We went-” Lena froze. How did Jule know about her date? “W-what date?” Lena tried to cover slip up. Jule grinned devilishly, refusing to let Lena weasel her way out of this questioning.

“You know, your date with the Barca player,” she laughed at Lena’s horrified expression.

“I didn’t … What … me? No … I don’t,” Lena rubbed the back of her neck, trying to hide the dark blush adorning her cheeks.

“Don’t lie to me, Lena Sophie! I am your best friend. You went on a date, 2 dates, and didn’t tell me,” Jule said, slightly hurt that Lena didn’t trust her with this. It was well known that Lena didn’t do dates; she didn’t do the emotional side of romance. She flirted, she charmed, and she took people home – only to have them leave the next morning, often not quite remembering their name when the sun rose. To see her friend finally consider a date, multiple dates - and maybe something more – Christmas had come early for Jule Brand.

“What d-” Lena started to deny, but after seeing Jule’s face, she knew she was caught. She sighed before spilling her happiest secret, “She asked me after the Barca match if I wanted to see some stuff in Barcelona. It was such a good time. We went to breakfast, and she made me try all these Spanish and Catalonian pastries. Then, she showed me all the tourist spots. She took me to lunch and stuff and then showed me all the quieter places she likes to go. Then, we ended with dinner, and it was just, ugh. So, so perfect.” Jule smiled, liking this side of Lena she hadn’t seen before. “And then, we so nearly kissed when she walked me back to the hotel and then she sent me a song telling me she wanted to kiss me and,” Lena sighed dreamily. “And we’ve been texted and phoning and whatnot, but I asked her out after our match on Sunday, and we went to the Christmas Market, even though it’s only November because she mentioned she’d never been to one before, and we ate far too much and then …” Lena paused, the romantic gushing so uncharacteristic of her. “She kissed me. She kissed me, Jule. And it was so perfect, and, ugh…” she trailed off again. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispered, grinning to herself as she confessed.

“She sounds wonderful, Lena. But who is ‘she’?” Jule teased lightly, nudging her best friend.

“Um … Y/N. The number 17 put 2 past us on Sunday,” Lena smiled as she said your name, a lovesick expression taking over. “She’s got this smile and, god, her laugh. It’s like angels or something. She so, so beautiful, Jule.” Lena gushed. Jule hadn’t seen Lena like this, ever, but she wasn’t opposed to the in-love ramblings. She liked this side of Lena and hoped she would stay for a long while. “But she’s also funny, and kind, and sweet, and just … she’s already picking up German for me. I didn’t even ask her to; she just turned up here, and at the Market, she went to ask a seller about this piece of jewellery, and it was in pretty decent German. She was so cute, she got all blushy and shy afterwards and…” she sighed again. Her fingers coming to fiddle with the woven bracelet on her wrist – a gift from you to remember you by. Like she could ever forget you.

“Wow, Lena. When can I meet the girl that’s got you so lovesick?” Jule teased gently, bumping her shoulder against Lena’s.

“Not for a while, sorry, Jule. It’s just, it’s all so new, and we haven’t really discussed what we are yet, and we won’t be able to see each other for a while because of our schedules and, um…” Lena had the decency to look slightly embarrassed at her response, but she loved the idea of being able to keep you all to herself for a little while.

“No, I get it, no worries,” Jule smiled understandingly. “I can see that she makes you happy, and that’s all that matters,” she added, squeezing Lena’s hand at her words. “But I will require regular updates from you about how things are going, ok? ‘Cos … my best friends in loooove,” she sang out, laughing at Lena’s bright blush.

“Yeh, yeh, let’s go to recovery, c’mon,” Lena said, shoving her friend out of the empty changing room.

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

[Initial]💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x

L💚: Tell em

L💚: Can I tell my team?

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx

Lena had permission from you to tell the team, and she was so, so happy about it. Telling Jule made everything feel so much more real; she couldn’t imagine how telling the team would go. She figured she’d start with the girls she was closest with.

Jule, Ewa, and Sveindis all gathered in her living room as Lena stood nervously in front of the TV.

“Um, so … I have something I need to tell you guys,” Lena said, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. Why was she so nervous? She loved the idea of being able to take you out on dates without hiding anything; she wanted to be in the crowd when watching your matches; she wanted to kiss you in front of the whole world … and yet she was nervous about this. If she had to guess, she would say it’s because she hasn’t done this before. She doesn’t date, and she’s never had to introduce her teammates to a partner before, but here she was, about to burst your little bubble of private joy. You had told her you’d done it already – or at least, you didn’t discourage the team when they snooped and didn’t stop them from guessing.

“Oh, my god. Are you leaving?” Sveindis asked.

“What? No!” Not yet, anyway. Lena replied.

“Are you dying?” Ewa countered. Lena was slightly shocked at her question.

“Ewa!” Lena gasped.

“Are you pregnant then? Did something happen? Are you ok?” Sveindis sat up, full of concern for her friend.

“No, good God, no. No, I’m fine.” Lena looked horrified that that was what her best friend’s brain jumped to.“I … I just needed to tell you that I have a girlfriend…” There was a split second of silence before Sveindis and Ewa burst into hysterical laughter. Lena looked towards Jule, unsure of the scene in front of her.

“Yeh, right. Good one, L.” Sveindis joked between peals of laughter.

“A girlfriend, nice one, Lena” Ewa wheezed.

“Guys,” Jule tried. She could see Lena’s face fall. When Lena had invited them to come over this afternoon, she had been so excited—she could finally share with her friends, her family, that she had a girlfriend—an actual, real girlfriend who treated her well and made her oh-so-happy. And now they were laughing at her. Was the idea of her being in a relationship so comedic that it brought tears to their eyes?

“You know what, fuck you. Get out, get out now.” Lena shouted, causing an immediate cease to the laughter.

“Lena, c’mon. That was a good joke -” Ewa started.

“It wasn’t a joke. I have a girlfriend. And I wanted to tell you today, but you think it’s basically impossible for me to have one. So, Get. Out!”

“Are you serious?” Sveindis asked.

“Get the fuck. Out. Of my House.” Lena replied, moving to open the door for them.

“Not about that, about having a girlfriend?” She ignored the open door, a clear sign that she was unwelcome at the moment.

“Yes. And I was really excited to tell you, but you guys find it so hilarious that I could have a relationship.” Lena said, hurt that her friends were so disbelieving of her.

“No, it’s just … you’ve told us so many times that you don’t date. You are … were … so adamant over it.”

“And when you stopped mentioning your one-night stands and stuff, we figured you were going through a dry spell or something,” Ewa added.

“We’re sorry for not believing you,” they both hung their heads, embarrassed that they hurt a close friend. Lena closed the door gently and returned to the living room.

“Does this mean I can finally meet her?” Jule asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“You know who she is? That’s not fair; how come Jule gets to know first?” Ewa moaned.

“Not yet, Jule. I still need to tell the rest of the girls first,” Lena sighed, sitting down on the armchair by the window. “And Jule knows first because she figured it out.” She explained to Eva.

“You should have seen her after the Barca match. She was so giddy, all blushy, and staring at her phone. Ugh, it was so cute. And then, after the home leg, she came into the changing room and couldn’t stop smiling. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on sooner; she’s not very subtle.” Jule gushed.

“So, it’s a Barca player? Who is it?” Sveindis asked.

“No, wait, let me guess,” Ewa shouted. “Ba-Batlle? Is that how you say it?” Lena giggled as Ewa bounced excitedly on the sofa.

“No, she has that maybe-thing with Bronze. Coll?” Sveindis countered.

“No, she’s definitely in a relationship; they did a lock screen video thing, and she was her girlfriend” Ewa and Sveindis pushed their heads together, coming up with ideas of who might have stolen their best friend's heart.

“What about Y/S/N? Y/N? Is that her name?” They looked to Lena for an answer. Whilst a verbal one wasn’t given, it wasn’t needed. The beaming smile was all that was required.

“Awww, she’s a cutie.” Ewa came over to hug Lena

“Real sweet, too. She came to check on Camilla when Pina did that tackle.” Sviendis agreed. “Now, tell us all about it. I want all the details!” They all got themselves comfy as Lena spilt all the information about the best few months of her life.

L💚: I told some of them

[Initial]💙❤️: Omg really??

[Initial]💙❤️: What did they say?????

L💚: They didn’t believe me at first ahahahaha

L💚: They thought u may have been Ona or Cata !!!!

[Initial]💙❤️: ahahahahahahhahahhahahahhahahaha

L💚: But then they said ur a cutie and real sweet

L💚: Which u r, obviously xxx

[Initial]💙❤️: Stoppppppp

[Initial]💙❤️: Ur gonna make me cry xx

[Initial]💙❤️: R u gonna tell the rest ?????

[Initial]💙❤️: No rush or anything xxx

L💚: Yeh I am xxx

L💚: I wanna tell the world ur mine xx

[Initial]💙❤️: now I’m actually crying wtf

[Initial]💙❤️: 1 photo image attached

[Initial]💙❤️: I wanna tell the world ur mine xxxxx

L💚: Schatzzzzzzz xxxx

[Initial]💙❤️: A nickname now?

L💚: Shut uppppp

[Initial]💙❤️: never

[Initial]💙❤️: Meine Liebeeeeeeee

L💚: 🩷🩷🩷🩷

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

“Obi,” Alex called as the training ended for the day. “I need to talk to you.” Fuck! Lena tried to remember what she might have done to piss Alex off. She had behaved all training session – for the most part; the thing with the water was Riola’s fault, not hers. She was guided into an empty media room and was met with Svenja sitting on the table. Fuckkkkk! What had she done? Two players she saw as maternal figures had their Angry Faces on.

“Before you say anything. It wasn’t me,” Lena rushed to cover her back.

“What wasn’t you?” Svenja asked.

“Whatever you think I’ve done,” Lena answered cryptically. She wasn’t admitting to anything.

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend then?” Alex asked. “Sveindis was lying to Vivi?”

“Um … my answer depends on how mad you will be.” Lena ducked her head to avoid Alex’s gaze.

“We’re not mad that you have a girlfriend, Lena.” Svenja pushed herself from the table and took Lena’s hand.

“We’re mildly irritated we found out from changing room gossip,” Alex added, coming over to squeeze Lena’s shoulders. “Look at me,” she instructed when Lena still refused to look her in the eye.

“Your girlfriend is Y/F/N Y/S/N, yes? Barca’s number 17.”

“Yeh,” Lena couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face at the mention of you.

“Does she treat you well, Obi?” Svenja asked.

“Yes, she treats me very well.”

“And you treat her well?” Alex added.

“I like to think so. She said I make her happy.”

“Good. When will she next be in Wolfsburg? Or at a match?” Svenja asked

“I’m going to see her at her away game in Madrid when we have the free weekend, but our schedules don’t line up for a while after that. They match up again just after the international break, so she’s coming here.” Lena explained.

“Good, gives us longer to prepare a speech.” Alex said to Svenja

“Speech?” Lena asked, slightly weary of what might happen – she knew that the 2 women could be very intimidating, especially if you weren’t German or didn’t know them very well.

“Yes, a speech—the ‘do not mess with Obi’ speech. I don’t doubt you will get one from Putellas and maybe Bronze and Paños, too. They seem very protective of her.” Svenja pulled Lena into a hug as Alex ruffled her hair.

L💚: Whose speech will be worse? Alexia’s or Alex and Svenja’s?

[Initial]💙❤️: Hmm, scary Germans or scary Spaniards???

L💚: I will endure it

L💚: Just for u Schatz

[Initial]💙❤️: As will I

[Initial]💙❤️: Only 4 u meine Leibe

I hope you enjoyed this little sub-chapter thing. I'm on my uni holidays atm so hopefully I can write the next chapter fairly soon but I do have deadlines etc <3

Also thank you to all the love from the anons ahaha - it means a lot to me <3<3<3<3<3<3

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xanasaurusrex · 4 months

Note

Hey! I really like your writing, you write and detail characters so well... I would like (if it wasn't a bother, of course) if you would write something about Clarisse X daughter of Athena, this has been taking over my mind for a few days, and honestly, I'm dying to read a dynamic like this! 🫠 (sorry if my writing is a little wrong, my first language is not English 🫤)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ clarisse la rue x daughter of athena ࿐ྂ

clarisse la rue x athena!daughter a/n: i'm working on a longer request fic and it's kinda stressing me out so i decided to do some nice little dynamic headcanons so that i have something to post! this was really fun, and honestly i'm in love with this pairing and this particular post. i hope you enjoy! warnings: not proofread! arguments, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons wc: 1708k

it's important to mention that both ares kids and athena kids are very headstrong

they have strong opinions and are incredibly stubborn

this means that clarisse and an athena child partner probably started out as enemies

classic enemies to lovers

but honestly clarisse is the perfect character to do enemies to lovers with, like are you serious??

anyways

you and clarisse were enemies, sort of like academic rivals but more battle-y

obviously you were using your wits and stuff so it was somewhat academic on your part

but ares kids, specifically in battle, act purely on instinct

that was always sort of the battle between the two of you

whether to trust instinct or to think everything through

it wasn't until the two of you were cornered by monsters while on a rare day out from camp half blood, suddenly caught alone after the other kids from camp had wandered off somewhere else, that you two started looking at each other differently

there were times where both of you were certain you were going to die there, only to be narrowly saved by the other

almost dying at the hands of some crazy greek monster bonds people in weird sorts of ways

during the moments where one of you thought the other was going to die, you were both faced with the idea of living without the other

you realized that you weren't sure what you were going to do without clarisse constantly pushing you to trust your instincts, which had saved you many times, although you never before had wanted to admit it

you also came to the realization that you sort of liked your back and forth with her, and if she was gone, there would be no one for you to bicker with

clarisse was faced with the thought of not ever being forced to think things through again, and she was afraid of what would happen then

as much as she hated to admit it even to herself, clarisse couldn't deny the fact that you had gotten her out of trouble or kept her out of it multiple times just because you were able to think through the consequences of everything before clarisse could even think of anything bad coming from her actions

she also was forced to think about a life without your smiles, and your laughs whenever she said something dumb and you corrected her with glee evident on your face

neither of you liked the idea of life without the other

it was a strange revelation for the two of you to come to, and after you both came out of the fight with those particular monsters alive, things were awkward for a few weeks

everyone noticed, because you were both acting strange, not just around each other, but around everyone at camp

even chiron and mr. d noticed

and mr. d never notices anything

so that was kinda monumental

eventually, both athena kids and ares kids banded together to get the two of you together

they pulled an outer banks and locked the two of you in the weapons shed overnight

a few of the athena kids were worried about having their sibling locked in a shed full of weapons with an ares kid, but the ares kids weren't worried, considering they knew their sister would never hurt you, never in a million years

even when everyone was under the impression that you both hated each other, the ares kids knew that clarisse liked you on some level

also, she had just always held a sort of respect for you that she reserved just for you, not even for her siblings sometimes

so basically, super long story short-ish, you and clarisse are a thing now

you love each other, but you often butt heads

it usually has to do with the logic over instinct debate the two of you have been having since you were 13, but it's still going strong, the both of you still thinking that you're both right

clarisse usually lets you win the debate for the day, but the next she'll come back with another reason for why trusting your instincts is better than meticulously planning everything out, specifically in a battle sense

and realistically, clarisse is right

when you're standing there with a hellhound snarling in your face, you should probably just stab now and then worry about how bad your strategy was later

and she knows this

but she also knows that you like a good debate

you, as an athena kid, like using your intelligence and thinking through your argument to prove your girlfriend wrong

this whole spiel was to say that even though clarisse knows that she's right (and she freaking LOVES being right), she always secedes to you and then comes back the next day with a fresh new thing to debate with

just to entertain you

honestly, clarisse is obsessed with you

in a way that nobody thought she could be

even her

clarisse was surprised at how dependent she became on your presence in her life

she also brags about you all the time

when she's forced to go home to spend with her time, she always spends the whole time talking about you and bragging about you, and telling her relatives that you're the smartest person she's ever met, and how lucky she is that you would want to be with her

honestly, thinking of you is the only thing keeping her sane when she has to spend time with her mortal family

since the two of you are so headstrong, there are times when you get into legitimate arguments

capture the flag is always a very tense time in your relationship, partially because your two cabins are on different teams, which makes things awkward

the biggest thing is that clarisse always convinces herself that you need to be protected

she's tried a few times to get her team to take you "captive" and then just hold you in a remote place in the forest until the game is over and everything is "safe" again

clarisse is just so overly protective that it can feel a little strangling sometimes

you always have to tell her that you are able to protect yourself, and that you love playing capture the flag, so you don't want to be sequestered off into the forest, that you're not okay with that

you also sometimes have to remind her that you're not going to die playing capture the flag

it's literally against the rules

also, i know i've said this in other headcanon posts before, but clarisse is so cuddly

no matter what the pairing is with her, she always wants to either be folded around you, or have you folded around her

whipped!clarisse everyone

please applaud, because she deserves it

clarisse literally will do anything and everything for you

sometimes you'll just snap in her general direction and ask for something, and within seconds she's gently placed it in your hands with a kiss on the forehead

people get so shocked

it's hilarious

people hardly see clarisse as anything but the cold-blooded warrior on the battlefield, but you hardly ever see that side of her

you see her as your cuddly girlfriend that you occasionally have to pry off you just so you can go to the bathroom

another thing that is hardly ever talked about though, is how protective you get over clarisse

but not in the same way that clarisse gets over you

i feel like this applies to all clarisse pairings, but specifically athena pairings with clarisse

athena kids are not afraid to speak their mind, or tell others how they feel, or tell others how idiotic they're being

clarisse may be intimidating and scary, and nobody would ever say anything to her face, but people definitely say pretty mean things behind her back

granted, clarisse is a bit of a bully, but you know her under all that, and you do discourage her from her bullying

you know that it gets worse and more common when she's feeling stressed or anxious about something, so instead of running at her yelling, you try and find the root of the problem

anyways

you've seen how clarisse reacts when she accidentally overhears someone saying something mean about her

she looks akin to a balloon deflating, and you hate that

you just love her so much, you always want her to be happy no matter what

so there have been many times when you've stomped up to someone and given them a piece of their mind for talking shit behind people's backs

sometimes you add in something about how clarisse is one of the best people you've ever met, and that they should reevaluate their thoughts on her

you also occasionally add in (depending on the person) how they shouldn't be judging given their personality and how they treat others at camp

it always means to much to clarisse whenever you do this, because she's never had anyone to stand up for her before

she's never had anyone in her corner, and it means so much to her that you are

when she told you this, you practically burst into tears before pulling her into a tight embrace, telling her that you'll always be in her corner no matter what, and that you'll always be there for her

she then told you that she'd always be there to protect you, no matter what

you pulled away then and told her that the both of you will always protect each other, and clarisse almost cried when you said that

she's never experienced this all-encompassing and being-consuming type of love, and she isn't hating it, that's for sure

at the end of the day, you and clarisse are in love, and that's all that matters

yes, you have your ups and downs

you have your arguments

but what else can you expect? neither ares nor athena are really known for backing down, and you both got that stubborn trait from your godly parents

the two of you have no doubts that you'll be together forever and ever

honestly, if clarisse wasn't such a scary individual, your relationship would be a little bit gross

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