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#Anyways can’t wait for my heart to get ripped out my chest once the other chapters are posts to webtoon
thisispoggers · 5 months
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There is just something magical and heartwarming about seeing Monsta post about how the BBB elementals hang out with each other cuz I’m so OBSSESSED with it
Like yes I wanna see Cahaya get fed up with Api and Daun breaking into his lab
Yes I wanna see Api and Taufan hanging out with Gopal and doing their cute lil dance segment
Yes I wanna see Taufan spending time with Yaya and tryna not die to her baking
Yes I wanna see Ais and Daun hanging out and having fun
Yes I wanna see the Ori trio chilling with each other and reading books
YES I WANNA SEE THEM JUST BEING WITH EACH OTHER MONSTA PLSSSSS I NEED MORE MOMENTS LIKE THESE
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obsesssedblerd · 2 months
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[MDNI] curse user! suguru x f! sorcerer reader 
previous part 
When your ears finally stop ringing, they register the sound of your own panting. Pleasure still vibrates through your body, and you wait for it to fade. Suguru sighs blissfully, then rolls over so he’s no longer on top of you, resting on the other side of his bed and facing the ceiling. You can tell that he’s also trying to catch his breath. Your body is still trembling slightly. How many times did you cum? You think four, but your mind stopped working properly after the first, so you weren’t sure. 
“Taking you a little bit longer to come back from that one,” you hear Suguru say, and you open your eyes to look over at him. He’s lying on his side and using one muscular arm to prop his head up, his hair—now messed up from sex—sprawled beautifully on the pillow. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly curves into the smirk that you love hate. “Fucked you that good, hm?” 
“Go to hell,” you mumble as you sit up. When you finally get your head back on straight, you sigh when guilt settles into your stomach. Once again, you failed to execute Suguru Geto, and have instead found your way back into the curse-user’s bed after a battle with him. You look around for your jujutsu high uniform, then remember that Suguru ripped it off of your body. You groan when you see the torn fabric on the floor. 
Suguru hands you a hoodie. “Here.” 
“This is the second time you’ve torn off my uniform.” You pull the warm hoodie over your figure, and you try to ignore just how good it smells. How good he smells. “I can’t just keep getting new ones. They’ll get suspicious.”
“Oh well,” he says with a soft shrug. 
Frustration bubbles in your blood, and you get ready to stand up. “Asshole.” Then, you feel his large arms wrap around your middle, pulling you to him so your back is against his chest.
“Running off so soon?” He purrs, then kisses the skin just below your ear as his hands trail down your body. You shiver, unable to stop the small moan of pleasure from escaping your lips, and he chuckles at your reaction. “You’re so cute. You pretend to hate me, but your body’s a lot more honest.” 
You’re about to tell him to fuck off, but he begins trailing kisses down your neck. You hate him. You want him. You want to hate him, and you hate that you want him. You try to tell yourself to remain focused. He’s evil, he’s killed hundreds, he’ll continue to kill as long as he’s left alive.
But you always hesitate to finish the job. 
Your phone dings with a new message, and you snap back to reality. “I-I have to go,” you manage to say, shoving down the part of you that wants to ignore your duties as a sorcerer and let Suguru have his way with you.
“Fine,” he hums. “But just know that this is my last time letting you leave.” 
That stops you. You turn around to face him. “Gonna kill me?” you ask. 
He raises a brow in confusion, then shakes his head. “No, love, you misunderstand me.” He brushes a strand of your hair out of the way of your face. “I fully intend to keep you alive. What I mean is that this back-and-forth is getting tiring. You’re obviously struggling to accept what you truly want, so I’m just going to speed that process up for you.” Your heart races when he smiles. It’s gentle, yet dangerously promising. “When you lose the next time you come to face me, I’m going to keep you.” 
Suguru kisses you possessively with you in his hold. It’s so intense that your head spins. It takes everything to not melt right then and there. You mentally curse at yourself for even thinking about it. When he breaks the kiss, his violet eyes take you in; Your heavy breathing, your slightly dazed eyes and your kiss-swollen lips. “I’m done sharing you,” he whispers. “Not just with the other sorcerers at jujutsu high, but with those fucking monkeys. They don’t deserve you.” He doesn’t say it, but you hear it anyway. You’re mine. 
You don’t say anything, and you can tell that he didn’t expect you to. He releases you, waving you off as you stand up and grab the rest of your things. “See you soon,” he says.
As you make your way back to your apartment—because there’s no way you can head back to the school to report on the mission with hickeys all over your body and your uniform shredded—the last few minutes of your secret encounter repeat over and over in your head. 
Suguru Geto never went back once he finalized a decision. You would be stupid to think that he didn’t mean every single word. 
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bellewintersroe · 5 months
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Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3
Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.
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It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.
So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.
Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.
This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.
Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.
You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.
“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.
“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.
Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.
When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.
He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.
“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”
“I’d rather just be where you are.”
Lewis Nixon:
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After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.
Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.
He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.
Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.
Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.
But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.
He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.
He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”
He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.
Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.
Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.
His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.
He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.
Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.
“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.
“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”
The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.
Ron Speirs:
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This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.
“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.
“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.
Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.
“We got them all sir, but one.”
“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.
The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”
The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.
Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.
He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.
“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.
This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.
Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.
He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.
“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.
Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.
“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”
He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.
It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.
He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.
“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital
“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”
All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.
“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.
“Where?”
… “my ass.”
Babe Heffron:
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Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?
Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.
He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.
Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.
It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.
“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.
“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.
“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.
He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.
Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.
“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.
“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)
20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.
“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.
At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.
“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.
“A little help here, Babe?”
After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.
“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.
“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.
“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”
“Babe-”
“Ya got me worried sick!”
“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”
“Edward?!”
“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”
Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).
When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.
“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”
Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.
“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.
“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.
“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”
“What ‘bout ya head?”
“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”
“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”
Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.
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bettysupremacy · 1 year
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Midnight rain | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve wants a family and a home with you, but you’re still chasing the fame of being a rockstar.
a/n this is dedicated to all my swifties. i love u. also, i’m incapable of finishing a fic on a sad note. sorry! happy ending.
Lemme know if y’all would want more of this
Request
“One more tour.” You cradle Steve’s fragile face in your warm hands.
Tears run over your fingers, dripping guiltily onto the blanket. He shouldn’t feel like this, and it shouldn’t have been you to make him feel like this. He was sunshine. The sight has your heart in pieces on the comforter between you.
“One more tour,” you whisper. “And then It’s you and me.”
He shakes his head. “I want that now.”
You know he isn’t blaming you for his hurt, but it gnaws at you anyways. “You know I do too.”
It’s weak, but it’s convincing. And true.
“I know you do.”
Your eyes search for his glassy ones. “But this’ll pay for it. Another tour is a house, more than that.” Fame. You don’t say it.
His chest aches. He knows you’re right, and the thought of ripping you from the very thing you want the most tears him apart. He slides into your arms, needy for affection. Your hand glides from where it cradles his jaw to behind his head, holding under his other ear. It’s an intimate touch that has him hiccuping into your chest.
The gratefulness that he’s this comfortable being vulnerable around you is burdened by your guilt.
You’d had this conversation before. It had started with your confession that he deserves more, and ended with him in tears again because he only wants you. He can’t imagine children with someone who isn’t you.
You’d left it at that. He’d wait, however long it took, and be there when you were ready. He just wish it’d be quicker.
There had been three tours so far. Three sold out worldwide tours that Corroded Coffin had traveled, each one a little more taxing on Steve. He missed you. He didn’t like being apart from you for so long, didn’t like calling you and knowing you were on a pay phone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was never that. He just missed the intimacy of home life he’d get in between travels.
“Eddie said this album would make the history books.” You whisper. You hate buzzing thrill in your voice. “This tour could mean big things.”
His head doesn’t move from your shoulder, but his arms tighten. “Big things that make the wait longer?”
“Big things that insure our future, Stevie.” You breathe out. “Another tour is the type of money where we’d never have to work again.”
“But you’d miss it.” He shakes his head the most he can. He’s right, you would. He couldn’t do that to you.
This was all you’d ever wanted, and you’d finally gotten it.
“We can still make music, corroded coffin can still make music, and once we’re settled, I don’t see why another tour isn’t possible.”
He sits up out of your hold, imagining this future. Your nimble fingers reach up to wipe over his cheeks, uncaring of the snot the runs.
His breathing is in staggers. “You, me, baby Harrington.”
“Yeah, baby,” Your shoulders shake with soft laughs, a light in the dark atmosphere. “I can still be rockstar with a kid.”
He smiles, pictures of you on stage with a bump flash his mind. “Totally metal to be pregnant.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” You brush his hair from his eyelashes.
He blinks funny because of it. “And I could go with you.”
Your eyes lock. He’s only ever been with you for one. It was too much for him, too much movement. And it’d only been the states.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I’d like that.”
He nods back. He doesn’t want to miss you again. Missing you was the worst ache he’d ever endured. Many sleepless nights, many red eyes.
His tired eyes claw at you.
This argument started at ten and now your bedside clock reads midnight. You hate to even call it that. An argument. He hasn’t tried to stop you, to argue that you shouldn’t go. He’s just upset, rightfully so.
You stretch to your nightstand, pulling the string on your lamp. The room goes dark, silent besides his breathing. Laying down, you give him enough room to lay down beside you, his ear to your heart. Your fingers tangle in his hair. You let the silence envelope you before whispering.
“In two years.. we’ll buy your parents house,”
He nods quietly. “I’ll knock you up.”
Your chest rises in quiet giggles. His mouth turns up at the feeling of it. “You’ll knock me up. She’ll grow up with her uncle Dustin and aunt Robin.”
“She?” His eyes close.
“We’re having a girl.”
“Okay.” He wouldn’t mind being a girl dad.
You scratch his scalp. “She’ll go to Hawkins elementary, tour in the summer.”
He hums.
“It’ll work out.”
“Me and you.” He agrees.
You were midnight rain.
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b1mbodoll · 1 year
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pairings: lee heeseung x f! reader
warnings: angst + hurt no comfort
💌: ok i never considered writing anything other than smut bc i dont think im suited for fluff/angst but im listening to miss taylor swift and champagne problems + right where you left me are so heartbreaking agh i love taylor she’s so good at telling stories thru songs ♡__♡ anyway here’s something based off them pls lmk if u like or not T_T ps i didnt know how to finish it so yeahhhh this is my frist time writing angst agh!!!!!!
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your relationship with heeseung was perfect. too perfect, you think. it’s a miracle the two of you lasted as long as you did, but you loved him, and you’d do anything to keep him in your life until the love you shared ate away at your being, consuming you entirely before spitting you out, leaving behind a broken mess of the person you once were.
you realize it’s gone too far when he proposes. he’d planned a romantic candlelit dinner for two on your anniversary. you looked gorgeous, he thought, anxiety coursing through his veins as he mentally prepared to ask for your hand in marriage.
heeseung waits until the two of you finish your meals before sliding out of the booth and getting on one knee, a black box in hand as his eyes well up with tears. “yn,” he starts, “i’ve loved you since the moment i met you. all i want in this life is you by my side, please just say yes.” his hands are shaking as he awaits your answer.
silence. your mouth opens and closes as you try to voice your thoughts but everything is too much, and you’re unable to give him the answer he wants. it tears your heart in two when he swallows thickly, unshed tears pooling in his lashline.
“oh.” he rises to his feet, nearly tripping as he clumsily reaches for his wallet, slapping a wad of cash on the table before making his way out of the restaurant.
you chase after him desperately, “heeseung, wait please. i’m sorry, i love you too, so much but- ”
he’s cornered and embarrassed and angry. “but what,” he sneers, sadness evident on his face despite the bite in his voice. but he’s not angry with you, he’s angry at himself because he was foolish enough to believe he was good enough for you.
again you’re hesitating to answer him, tears streaming down your cheeks as regret settles in your bones, and heeseung’s itching to comfort you, to press kisses along your face until you smile at him and all is forgotten but he can’t. not this time. “but i’m not good for you!” your voice cracks as you reveal your deepest fears to him. “you deserve so much better than me, it’s not fair to keep you to myself when i know i’ll never be enough.”
“you don’t get to decide that.” his tone is stern, “i do. i’m free to make my own choices and i choose you, so please,” he’s begging now, “just pick me.”
you clear your throat and wipe at your face, streaks of mascara staining your cheeks and undereyes.
“i can’t.”
this moment has replayed in your head every single day since your breakup and it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest when every morning you’re forced to remember that heeseung is no longer in your life. forced to remember the anguish he so obviously felt and how you were the cause.
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milimeters-morales · 4 months
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chapter 6 of my transfem miles fic :3
Chap 1 / Chap 2 / Chap 3 / Chap 4 / Chap 5 / Chap 7 / Chap 8 / Chap 9
Wordcount: 4k+
Warnings: None! But a non-binary character does talk about getting jumped!
CONFESSION PLAN:
Tell Peter and twin
Survive
???
Profit
(Note: If dead, warn Ganke through haunting)
____
Miles doesn’t plan on fighting while he’s out, and he honestly doesn’t even need it if he does, but he changes into his now-dried suit and a jacket anyway before opening a portal to Peter’s dimension.His parents, sound asleep in their bed after dinner, won’t even realize he left. He folds his paper and tucks it away in his pocket, lightly slapping the sides of his face as he’s shot through the portal and into a water tower. 
Groaning in annoyance, he stands up, taking a good look around. Peter’s dimension is only half an hour ahead of his own, so the man should still be out. Unless he’s watching Mayday tonight? 
“I’ll just go check his house,” he mumbles, rubbing his face. He doesn’t want to wake Mrs. Watson at all, much less Mayday if they just got her to sleep, but he’s on a time crunch. He needs to get this done before 12, or else that would be breaking his promise, even if Ganke didn’t actually have to know if he gets it done around two… which was shamefully tempting. 
But he could do this. His anxiety was just making him fear every possible bad outcome, and didn’t even allow room for any possibly good outcome, or even consider the long term effects of being honest despite the bad outcomes. He knows this, he’s a really emotionally intelligent guy, or whatever.
Honestly, though? That means jack when he’s still not brave enough to actually confront those emotions. That changes tonight, for sure. He can do this!
He camouflages as he’s swinging, landing in the family’s front yard with a quiet thump. Gross, the grass is wet.
Crawling to the windows, he tries to find any lights already on, sighing when it’s all dark in the house. The blinds are closed on all of them too, so he can’t see inside. Putting his ear to several points on the walls only reveals two heartbeats calm and steady with sleep. 
So Peter is still out, then. He can’t just wait here until the man shows up, who knows when that would be?  
Crawling onto the roof, he sits and frustratedly rubs at his face. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he tries to make a more detailed plan. Peter’s currently not at his house and there’s no way of telling when he’d be back, and Miles can’t search all of Queens in under… an hour, he needs an hour for Peter and G., even with his spider-sense guiding him to where the man could be if he got in range. 
“So… okay, wait, I can call him,” Miles mumbles. If Peter doesn’t answer, he could go to Earth-42 and try his luck there, his alternate self definitely wasn’t going to be asleep… but it would be even harder to find the other boy since there’s not even a spider-sense to help guide him…
Peter picks up on the second ring, sounding out of breath. “Hey bud! Kind of busy right now! Can it be quick?”
Miles can be quick. Rip the bandaid off, for real this time.
“Peter, I have something super-- EXTREMELY important to tell you.”
“How important are we talking? Scale of one to ten, oh darn--” Peter’s cut off by mad cackling that Miles doesn’t recognize, must be a villain losing it. He hears Peter coughing and his heart speeding up.
“Do you need help?” Miles asks him, standing up, grimacing at the realization the roof was wet too. Double gross.
“No buddy, all good here! Aaalll good, c’mon, what were you saying?”
You’ve already told him once before, you can do it again. He’s already promised to not tell.
Miles inhales deeply, pushing past the giant wave of terror-- okay, no, he’s not going to lie. He’s still terrified, and those rocks in his stomach are trying to burn a hole through his stomach and spill his innards all over this roof tile. Triple gross. 
Confessing better get them out, Miles doesn’t even know what he’d do if he had to carry their weight and shame with him any longer.
“Buddy? You good?”
But what if it’s all for nothing? What if this honesty doesn’t get rid of any of his fears, what if this only makes them worse if it goes poorly?
Miles exhales, letting the coming waves hit him full force, saltwater filling his lungs.
“Miles--”
“I’m gay.”
It burns. Horribly. He knew it, he knew it all along, and he still confessed.
“Whu-- Yeah, I knew that already, remember?”
The rocks seem to gain sharp edges out of nowhere, making him sit back down and try to catch his breath. There’s too much on his body, and the water is still on the roof, and it’s all so gross. He’s gross. Admitting being gay didn’t help at all, all it did was give Peter confirmation, it gave him reason to hate him. 
“Your heartbeat is all fast, is everything alright?”
He could be on his way to beat us to death , a voice whispers in his head, you know what happens to boys like us.
Please, just stop , Miles begs the voice, tears escaping and freely flowing down his cheeks.
“Miles, where are you? Are you at home? I hear crickets-- are you outside?”
What a brave-hearted hero, risking it all , the voice whispers, trying to smother his actual voice of reason, you’re going to get Ganke killed.
“Stop, he wouldn’t…” Miles breathes out, digging his nails into his leg. He has to focus.
“Kid, please tell me where you are.” Peter tells him, a hint of urgency in his tone.
Look, he still cares, Miles thinks, he doesn’t hate me. I didn’t ruin anything! Nothing bad happened!
With pain in his leg clearing the fog of anxiety that was beginning to overtake his mind, Miles takes another deep breath in and exhales loudly.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m on your roof right now,” he tells him, coughing harshly into his elbow at the end.
“The roof?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright buddy, how about you stand on the porch instead? Much more stable than the roof, trust me. My ankle last month can attest to that.”
Miles chuckles wetly, and wipes at his face. “Yeah, okay. You, um, you’re not like… mad at me or anything…?”
“No, buddy, I’m not mad. I told you I knew already, remember? You accidentally told me.”
Miles jumps off the roof and lands safely on the grass, dropping his camouflage and waiting by the front door. He could get away with the cosplay excuse if some random person is nearby and curious enough, hopefully. “I know, I just… I had to tell somebody, and I thought telling you on purpose would make me feel better.”
“Well, did it?” Peter asks him. 
Miles thinks of the horrible possibilities his brain was pushing to the forefront of his mind. He thinks of how the rocks in his stomach are waiting for the man to show up and lash out after luring him into a false sense of security. He thinks about the stinging pain in his leg, all to just focus on not drowning in his fears that even he knows are too much and too unrealistic.
“Nah,” he answers, taking in a shaky breath.
“Well… that’s okay, bud. I was scared too.”
“What? Scared of what?” Miles asks, turning around when he hears a familiar heartbeat come closer.
Peter lands softly on the grass and ushers Miles inside.
“It sounded like you were about to confess to a murder, or something,” the man chuckles as he locks the door behind him. “Or… y’know,” Peter makes a weird motion, pointing up then down, so Miles very much doesn’t know.
“Oh,” Miles says, taking a look around the dark living room. “I can’t stay, Peter. I have to go to G. next.”
“You seem really shaken up, are you sure?” Peter asks him. “Are you gonna come out to him too?”
Miles nods wordlessly, and rubs at his face. “Hopefully. He was actually the one I was supposed to tell, so you’re like… practice, kind of.”
Really awful practice.
Something in Peter’s stance and gaze hardens, and every voice Miles was holding at bay started to howl out the very anxiety that created them. This is it , they cry, we told you!
“Miles,” the man begins, and Miles finds himself agreeing with those voices at the steely tone he hears, “when you say ‘supposed to’, is someone making you do this?”
And that’s… a complicated question. One he certainly wasn’t expecting.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asks, forcing his shoulders to relax. It doesn’t work, they hike back up the tiniest bit.
Peter sits down at the small dining room table, folding his hands on it in front of him. “Yeah bud, you shouldn’t feel forced to come out to people. If someone’s making you do that--”
Miles stops him right there. “No no no, you’re making it sound really bad. He’s not doing that, I’m just not being… a really great guy right now. Ganke doesn’t like-- he’s actually never liked us being a secret. So, we agreed that I’ll tell G., but I couldn’t… so I’m telling you, so I can say I told someone, and maybe be prepared.”
Peter stares at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “You feel prepared?”
Miles lets out a humorless laugh, “No, no.”
Peter continues staring at him, and Miles briefly glances down to see that he camouflaged again without even noticing. 
“I really gotta go,” he mumbles, making his way towards the front door. 
“Wait, kid, why not just take a few minutes to calm down? Sit on the c-- actually, sit at the table, don’t get my cushions wet,” Peter walks over and gently places a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to a chair. “So, why didn’t this help?”
Miles shrugs, “Iunno.” He supposes it should’ve shown him that nothing bad was likely to happen, but… he knew that. It just didn’t convince all of his brain, apparently. “Hey, we can talk later, I have to get this done tonight.”
“You have a time crunch too? Miles, this doesn’t sound--”
Miles doesn’t really have time for what it sounds like. He knows what it is, what the possible outcomes are if he fails, and… it’s all… none of it makes sense. It clashes, it mixes, it contradicts, it supports each other and the rocks in his stomach. He now knows, with Peter’s reaction, the worst possible outcomes that are at the forefront of his mind aren’t likely, but he can’t do anything about the “what if” that hangs heavy on his shoulders.
What if , a voice speaks up, he’s stalling? What if he’s pretending?
He isn’t, stop it , Miles scowls, and hopes Peter doesn’t think it’s directed at him. Well, it’s not even like he can see Miles, so why was he even worried about that? 
Why was he worried about any of this? He should be worried about Ganke feeling hurt by still being hidden from his boyfriend’s family and closest friends, not what Peter, some middle-aged man with an entire life and family of his own, thinks. He should be worried about Ganke feeling like their relationship can’t work anymore, and leaving him for some Barbara who probably exists. 
“Kid, are you… angry? You’re buzzing a bit louder than usual,” Peter’s voice from behind asks him.
“Dunno,” Miles mumbles, stepping outside and opening a portal. Peter, fortunately, doesn’t follow.
____
Being on Earth-42 is infinitely more calming than being on Earth-1610B, but somehow also just as stressful. 
Miles checks his watch. Forty minutes until 12, but he can work with that. G. is himself, so he’s bound to be painfully aware of the time while he’s out as the Prowler. He’ll understand the urgency for sure.
“Speak of the devil,” Miles mutters when he sees a brief flash of magenta out of the corner of his eye, followed by a rapidly approaching heartbeat. 
“We have to stop meeting like this,” G. says with an exaggerated shrug after he lands quietly in front of Miles..
“That joke doesn’t work here,” Miles mumbles.
“Yes it does--”
“Remember that thing I was gonna tell you? On the roof?”
“The thing you didn’t tell me? After freaking out about Barbara?”
Miles frowns angrily at the reminder. “Yes. Listen, it’s really important.” He takes a deep breath, feeling a shiver go through his shoulders and down his spine, and blurts it out, painful as ever. “I’m gay and dating our roommate.”
“Your roommate,” G. corrects, sharp white eyelights widening slightly, and he places his hands on his hips in a way that’s almost scarily reminiscent of their mom. “Is that seriously all you wanted to tell me?”
Miles stares at him, trying to stop the waterworks before they begin and calm the panic that’s rapidly climbing. It’s probably working. The voices that like to talk about how he’s made a huge mistake and won’t wake up tomorrow are strangely quiet, maybe it’s because he’s basically talking to himself?
“Hey,” G. says, sighing, “look, I really don’t care. Good on you. Go home now, you look like you’re about to faint.” 
“I don’t get it,” Miles mumbles.
“What’s new,” G. shrugs.
“Shut up.” The playful jab is like poking a hole in a tire, and Miles can feel a tiny part of his mind clearing. “I meant that I expected… worse. Y’know… yelling. Running away. Fighting.”
G. shakes his head and his eyelights flatten into a line as he waves a hand around in the air, looking for the words he wanted to use. “I know. I honestly expected worse too. I’m-- wait, you don’t want me to tell anybody, right?” 
The weight that was slowly lifting from his shoulders slams back down, forcing a breath out.
“Taking that as a no,” G. says, “take a few breaths. Think logically about this, man.” G. takes a few steps closer until he’s an arm’s length away. “You could probably beat me in a fight if this went wrong. And if I was the type, I wouldn’t gain anything from telling people that you, a guy who shares my name and appearance, is gay. That would be pretty strange and useless, right? Pretty stupid?”
Miles nods once and swallows hard. His legs are slowly trying to camouflage in messy patches, he notices.
“Don’t go all Swiss cheese on me,” G. chuckles, placing a clawed hand on his shoulder. “I know that just saying ‘I accept you’ isn’t gonna convince you.”
Miles nods again, slowly relaxing his shoulders and resisting the urge to bite at something. That’s one of the things he likes about G., having basically a copy of yourself to comfort you means that they know exactly how you’re thinking, and what would and probably wouldn’t work with way more certainty than anybody else. 
“But… why do you think I’m not really surprised?” G. asks, tapping his temple. “Think about it. But don’t hurt yourself.”
Miles’s eyes widen, knowing his lenses are taking up most of his face at this point. 
No way.
There’s-- there’s--
“No way,” he breathes out, feeling a sort of warm, pleasant feeling spread through the top half of his body. His hands slowly stop shaking, and he doesn’t feel like the ground is about to collapse under him. “No way!”
G.’s eyelights squint, and Miles hopes he’s smiling. 
“But…” Miles remembers G.’s words from earlier, “what about Barbara? You said you liked her?”
The other boy removes his hand, taking a step back and looking around, “Yeah, but y’know how it is. Sometimes you like girls, sometimes you like guys.”
“So you’re… bi?”
“No? I’m-- we’re gay, but sometimes you see a woman and she’s… y’know,” G. elaborates. 
Nodding rapidly, the rush of being understood in a way most people would never be able to experience like this flowing through his veins, Miles agrees with a shaky smile. “Yeah, I mean… there’s this-- you remember how it felt meeting Margo, right?”
G. puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head to the sky.
“Right!” Borderline-hysterical laughter coming from Miles shocks them both. “Sorry, I just-- I thought this was gonna go so horribly, I’m just so-- super excited!”
G. nods his head and fidgets with a strap on his jacket, and man, he’s moving around a lot more than usual. Does he have somewhere to be? Probably. Maybe his mom is gonna go to work soon? Those are weird hours though, maybe his Aaron needs something?
“Sorry, again, I’ll just,” Miles holds up his watch with a wide smile, “I’ll let you go.”
“Right, right. Be easy, man.” With that, G. runs past, leaping onto the side of a building and darting up to disappear over the top, leaving a faint pink light trail behind him.
Miles tries to school his expression, but his mouth refuses to drop the smile no matter how hard he tries. His limbs have a sort of lightness to him, and feels like he can run a marathon. Scratch that, several marathons. The electricity in his legs is practically howling at him to start running until he collapses, all out of joy and without the expected crowd of voices telling him how badly he fucked up.
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good in his life!
Making sure nobody was secretly watching him, Miles shakes his hands at his sides, running in place. He then kneels down on one knee, and launches himself high into the air, twirling slowly. The air rushes past him, the wind rushing down his body feeling like a hug he’s been missing.
There’s no trace of the overwhelming fear, the anger, or even any sort of begrudging acceptance of a hatred that evidently was never going to blow up in his face. He felt like light was trapped inside his body. Closing his eyes, Miles lets some of it run through his arms and out of his finger tips, creating mini-sparklers on their ends. A quick burst through his legs sends him tumbling higher into the air, and he flails his arms legs wildly, unable to hold in the energy any longer. The flailing lasts a few seconds before he’s rocketing back down to the roof, pressure suddenly returning with the wind. The sparks at his fingers and feet fizz out, leaving light trails in the air.
He’s like a comet as he spins down onto the roof, quickly flipping at the last second to land feet-first instead of cracking his head open on the cement. That would be such an embarrassing concussion.
Landing with a bit more force than he meant to, Miles starts to giggle quietly as leftover electricity spreads from below him and spiderwebs out before fading completely. 
“Okay, okay,” he breathes out, trying to calm himself. He opens a portal back to his universe, being spat out behind some grocery store, for some reason. He didn’t leave here, why did--
A fast heartbeat and quiet sniffles have him snapping his head to the side, eyes landing on a kid leaning on a wall and crying. 
“Hey, you okay?” Miles asks softly, not moving from his spot. 
The kid startles hard, eyes wide as he- … um, they, Miles decides on- stare at Miles.
“Y- yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” they say, voice shaky. Miles can see their hands shaking, and even with little moonlight reaching the alley, their eyes shine wetly. One is more closed than the other.
“That a black eye?” Miles asks as he takes a tentative step forward. “Someone punched you?”
The kid crosses their arms and curls in on themself a bit, nodding. “Got jumped.”
“Oh, man. You know them, or…?”
The kid shakes their head, “Just some guys from school.”
Miles’s eyes widen. Guys, as in multiple? “Dang, how many? You look like you ain’t let them do much besides that eye.”
There’s a quiet snort, and Miles internally cheers. “Like, five. Teacher was coming, so they ran.”
“Five? Holy…well, good on you for standing your ground,” Miles laughs quietly, taking a few more steps. “I can walk you home, if you’d like?”
The kid is quiet for a few moments. “Really?”
Miles nods, and realizing it might be too dark, says yes. 
“Sure, that would be cool. I’m Kenneth,” the kid says, walking towards Miles.
“I’m Spider-Man,” he replies.
“No way, really?” 
They both chuckle as they make their way onto the street, weaving through the few others heading to their own destinations. 
“So, why’d they jump you? Was it money?” Miles asks casually, hoping it wasn’t too personal to share.
“Man, I wish,” Kenneth sighs, “they just… they don’t like people like me.”
Racists? Miles turns his head, ready to offer his support, but Kenneth continues, “The way I dress, my hobbies… stuff like that.” Their voice trails off near the end. “They make fun of my designs a lot, threaten to rip all the clothes I make.”
Oh, Miles thinks, feeling even more upset. “You been dealing with that long?”
“Kinda,” Kenneth nods. “I usually win, though.”
Now that they’re walking under the streetlights, Miles can actually make out Kenneth’s appearance. They’re wearing a purple sweater and denim jacket, a somewhat long black skirt, and some sneakers that are so customized that Miles has trouble figuring out the exact type they are. Of course, to top it all off, Kenneth is sporting a busted lip in addition to that black eye. He doesn’t like to think about what else they deal with when they don’t win.
“You said you make clothes?” Miles asks, high-fiving someone passing by.
“Yeah! I-- do you wanna see? I have some pictures on my phone,” Kenneth pulls out a phone with a cracked screen, and Miles looks away until it’s moved closer to his face. “I made these shoes for a friend, this dress, this-- well, I’m actually wearing that jacket right now!”
“Ooh, is that like a jean-skirt deal? I really like that one,” Miles tells them, already getting ideas of figure drawings he could add these clothes too. “You got some real skill!”
Kenneth beams, not even wincing a tiny bit at the pain that the pull on their lip must cause, and thanks Miles. 
“I don’t design clothes or nothin’, but I draw a lot too. Artist to artist, you seriously could make a career outta this,” Miles tells him, “don’t let those fools try and convince you otherwise.”
“That’s what my mom says,” Kenneth says, smile softening into something that feels a bit too private for Miles to just be seeing, “I’m glad you’re chill. And that you like my work, this is probably one of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me.”
Miles nods, “No yeah, I’m totally chill.” Wait, that sounds like a lie! “Like, having that type of hate in your heart is just so strange anyway.” Totally saved it! “And your designs have some real character, the creativity you got is crazy, ma-” Shoot! “--my buddy.”
Kenneth laughs at him, “You--” Miles tries to not let his teeth start grinding in embarrassment at the other teen’s laughter, “--you tried, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it. They/them, by the way.”
Miles breathes out a sigh of relief. “Still, sorry, force of habit. Call everyone that, y’know? My bad though,” he stumbles through the apology, “and, uh…”
He’s never had to tell someone his pronouns before. Spider- MAN doesn’t really leave a lot of room for speculation, and he thinks he’s pretty obviously a guy. Well, masculine. Wait, no, because he knows it doesn’t always work like that for people, but… he’d think people would refer to their default when they see him, hear his voice, the name--
“You don’t have to tell me yours,” Kenneth pipes up when he’s been quiet too long. “No pressure or nothing. This is me,” they say, pointing to a brownstone entrance with a woman in just her pajamas sitting on the steps. 
“Kenneth!” She cries out, rushing down to embrace the teen in a fierce hug. “Baby, those boys got you again? Oh, come on, let's get inside.” 
“Ma, give me a second,” Kenneth whispers, half-heartedly returning the hug as they try to gesture to Miles. 
“Did you find them?” The woman doesn’t let go, instead just picking her head up and very coolly glaring at him.
“Yes ma’am,” Miles says, deepening his voice and placing his hands on his hips, “I was worried, so I walked them home.”
“Thank you.” She gives a small, tense smile, and Miles can’t blame her. It is a pretty tense situation! 
“Yeah, thanks!” Kenneth’s smile is much bigger and warm as they wave goodbye.
“Buenas noches!” Miles calls before swinging away.
____
Later, as he’s lying in bed, his mind drifts to Kody. He never asked their pronouns, should he have? No, right? That would be putting them on the spot. He didn’t ask Kenneth, he just went based on appearance just like with Kody, and they had offered up that information. 
Should he start using they/them for everybody? That way he isn’t unintentionally offending anybody? That would be a lot of work, and he knows he’d mess it up a lot… kind of like being Spider-Man! 
Shifting to scratch a scab on his leg, he thinks of how he faltered when he tried to tell Kenneth to use he/him. People always-- well, until recently, he was never seen as anything other than a guy, obviously. He’s pretty manly, his voice is supposed to get deeper, he’s got some nice muscles, and he’s almost taller than his dad. He’s definitely taller than his mom.
He stops scratching his leg and stares at it, bare of any hair. 
It’s not like pronouns make the person. And it’s not like shaving doesn’t make him any less masculine. Not that anyone thought that, of course. Nobody even cares about that. Miles doesn't even care about that.
Those kids that jumped Kenneth would probably care , he thinks, they sound like the type to think any small difference deserves a beatdown… what was I thinking about? 
Right, pronouns. He should feel more confident using he/him, but there’s some weird, vague hesitation when there should be a brief acknowledgement so casual that it’s barely there. Not a feeling of wrongness per se, but something similar to forgetting what you walked into a room for.
This probably requires a bit more thought than he really wanted to give at this time of night. He did what he had to do, and now he can go to Ganke with the good news, and Ganke will be so happy and won’t leave because Miles is finally being the best boyfriend to him. There isn’t much reason to stay awake any longer.
Miles puts on his headphones and resumes his video, drifting off to sleep.
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A/N: lowkey wish i cared enough to figure out how to format the text in the exact way i wanted bc there's a text message part coming up that i put on opposite sides of the doc to make it clear who's talking 💔 anyway... YAY KENNETH !!! They're gonna be appearing more often, and is NOT one of the characters that don't appear again but Miles can't stop thinking about. dw kennethheads miles is the queen of unknowingly befriending trans people and becoming their fav.
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cariantha · 1 year
Text
The Starting Line
Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: None Category: Angst Word count: 1.1K Summary: Not able to watch her walk away, Ethan chases after Sawyer following their “reset” conversation in the beer garden. A/N: There’s not much plot here, it’s just my head canon for how that night really ended. I labeled this angst, but it’s Sawyer and Ethan, so you know it’s not really that bad.😉For @choiceschallenge-may2023, I used the prompts: last goodbye and crying.
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The realization crashed down on her. They were right back where they were after Miami. Sawyer wondered if she did something wrong. Ethan on the cusp of admitting his feelings but still hesitant to give them a voice. And professional development, once more, a convenient excuse. 
“Okay. I get it.”
Feeling the sting of frustrated tears, she quickly said goodnight before they threatened to spill out. Briskly walking away, Sawyer waited until she was out of sight before allowing the floodgates to open.
As Ethan watched her flee, he was immediately overcome with shame and regret. Albeit cowardly, it was easier to let her down when he was thousands of miles away. Because to look into her innocent eyes and blatantly dismiss their feelings for each other, again, felt downright cruel. He didn't think it possible to feel more guilt-ridden than he did when he was away. That was a miscalculation, for this was a new low.
The voice in his head reminded him it was for the best. “This was the plan. Just let her go. Give her some time and space.”
But her grip around his heart was too tight. The further she walked away, the more Ethan felt as though it might be ripped from his chest. Desperate to relieve the pressure, he got to his feet and urgently went after her. 
When he didn’t find her waiting on the curb for a ride, Ethan assumed she headed for the nearest T station. He set a quick pace to the end of the block and rounded the corner, pausing momentarily when he didn’t see anyone walking ahead on the sidewalk.
Then he spotted her, sitting on the steps of a building. 
With her head hung low, Sawyer wrung her hands and silently sobbed. When she heard footsteps approaching from down the street, she lifted and turned her head in that direction.
“Sawyer!”
Angry and embarrassed, she jumped up and walked in the opposite direction, wiping her face clean with the cuff of her henley. 
Ethan jogged to catch up and blocked her path. 
“Please, just let me go,” her voice cracked as she attempted to sidestep around him.
He swung his arm out to catch her before she got past. “I’ve tried…but I can’t,” he quietly admitted while tucking her in tightly, with no chance for escape. 
The only fight in her was the back of her fist knocking at his heart, before she surrendered to his embrace. 
“Why, Ethan?” she cried softly as he cradled her head against his chest.
He didn’t need her to explain what she meant. He knew. He heard her ask that same pleading question a few weeks ago. It was the day Sawyer realized Ethan hadn’t just been out of reach but was in fact avoiding her. Their call disconnected before he was forced to offer some futile explanation. 
“I’m sorry. I know I hurt you and that kills me. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought if we put some distance between us, it would provide some perspective. We spent a lot of time together working on Naveen’s case and–”
“Don’t!” she pushed away. “Don’t say this was just some neurochemical bullshit–”
“It’s not! I know that now… but I still don’t know what else to do,” he sighed, combing his hands through his hair.
“We have other options, Ethan. We can go to H.R. Someone else on the team can supervise me… or I can just give up my spot on the team. You can find someone with more experience. You didn’t think any of us were ready anyway! I can wait.”
“No,” he shook his head adamantly. “You’ve spent nearly half of your life working toward this. I’m not going to let you give all that up, not for me... I’m not worth it. And you are ready. The truth is, Sawyer, you would fill an important niche on the team. You may not have the years of experience yet, but you have the credentials. Your specialized medical scientist training will be incredibly valuable. I had been scouting the UCLA program for a while. It was one of the main reasons I recommended you for residency at Edenbrook.” 
“So your priority here is the status of the team? Got it.” 
Ethan stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You know that’s not what I mean. My priority is you. You have earned this opportunity. And I get a second chance to be the mentor you deserve. After failing at that last year, I owe this to you, Sawyer. But to do that, it would be best if we go into this year with a fresh start. I can’t be objective if we are anything more than co-workers.”
The late hour and emotions were starting to take a toll. Tired and knowing that he was resolved to see this through, Sawyer offered one last consideration. “Ethan, this reset, it won’t change anything. It only puts us back at the starting line. It doesn't change the course.”
“Be that as it may, these are the current circumstances.” Letting his hands slide down her arms, he released his hold on her. “We just need to maintain professional boundaries.”
“And how’d that work out for us last time?”
“Sawyer,” he tipped his head to the side with a disappointed sigh.
“I should go. It’s really late.”
“Walk back with me and I’ll give you a ride home,” he offered.
“Thanks, but I’d rather call for a car.”
“Can I at least wait with you? I don’t like the idea of you waiting here alone at this hour.”
There was no point in refusing, she already knew he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. Pulling up the rideshare app on her phone, Sawyer moved to sit on the steps again, Ethan taking a seat beside her. 
After several minutes, a whisper finally broke the awkward silence. “I missed you.”
Ethan scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I missed you, too.”
With her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, they sat quietly waiting for her ride. Each savoring the final moment of intimacy. When the car pulled up all too soon, they stood and faced each other. With a tilt of her head Sawyer asked for permission, which he granted with a small nod. Lunging forward, she hugged him goodbye. But not goodbye for the evening. A last goodbye. The one she deserved before he left for the Amazon. In return, Ethan placed a kiss on the top of her head, selfishly breathing in the scent that two months away nearly wiped from his memory.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rookie,” he said, opening the car door for her.
“You know... I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“You're the rookie on the DT now. It’s still applicable,” he argued as she dramatically rolled her eyes. With the door between them, Ethan reached over the frame and cupped her cheek. “Even if you disagree, you’ll always be ‘Rookie’ to me,” he winked. 
With a touched but sad smile, she took her seat in the car. “See you at work…Dr. Ramsey.”
Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @ofmischiefandmedicine @openheartforeverinmyheart @doriopenheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin
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dirtychocolatechai · 3 years
Text
murphy’s law | p.p
🍵pairing | peter parker x f!reader
🍵wc | 4.8k
🍵warning(s) | 18+, smut; sex pollen, mild dub con cuz pollen, dirty talk, handjob, frottage, needy/desperate Peter, slight sub Peter, age gap (reader is a few years older), loss of virginity
🍵request | sex pollen peter but instead of him staying sweet it makes him dirty
🍵notes | this took me like 3 years to write, no joke 🙃 Anyway, hope it was worth the wait, babes! Sorry for anyone who saw this already, there was an issue with the tags hoping they’re fixed now 👍 Peter is always 18+
🍵tag list: open | requests: open | masterlist
(gif credit @/tomhollandbr)
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It’s been 16 grueling hours since everything that could go wrong did.
Avengers be damned, you’ll ghost their asses if you have to suffer through another 16. You're not an expert, but they should have come up with something by now.
Seriously, what’s taking so long?
Not only has Parker suffered enough mortification to last a lifetime, it’s dumb luck he’s still breathing, albeit on borrowed time. A high stakes race against the clock. The eleventh hour is nigh. There’s no overtime, and it’s not just Parker’s dignity on the line this time.
Soon, there won’t be any other choice.
He’s already wound tighter than an old rubber band. His self control is impressive, but even their Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man has his limits.
No doubt, he’s going to snap once the pollen reaches its zenith. All the sticky fever dreams, all the sweat and regret - it’s going to be a cakewalk compared to the hunger that’ll raze through his system like liquid fire, leave him desperate and dripping for a release that’ll never come.
The tension between you mounts with every sneaky touch, each stolen caress bolder than the last. It’s so obvious how badly he aches to reach out, to touch, anticipation hiding in the hunch of his shoulders and the shift of his legs.
Stomach swooping at the sound of his low groan, you beat back the urge to glance up and frown down at the magazine in your lap. “Parker?”
“...”
“... Parker?”
“H-nm?... Oh, uh - what’s, uh, what’s up?”
“Are you --”
You scoff, tucking your elbows into your sides and hunching your shoulders. “My eyes are up here, you little perv.”
Parker jolts, his head turning to face the wall with a sputter. “I - I’m… sorry, I just…” He trails off, the silence dragging on as he gets lost in his head. “Oh my god, why is it so - it’s really hot in here, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s just you, Parker.”
“Huh?” The eyes of his mask click with every slow blink as he sways on the spot. “Really…”
“Yes,” you say. “Really.”
Frustration throbs in your temple, a sharp pain lancing through your skull with every beat of your heart and your jaw worked into a painful knot.
Your nails nearly rip through the glossy page with how forcefully you turn it, the article staring up at you nothing but blurred letters.
“Who knows,” you shrug, “Maybe if you wouldn’t sit so close to me…”
You let the words hang in the air, gauging his reaction.
Only it’s as if he’s woken from a fever dream, his voice slow to come and fraught with heat when he asks, “Can I — please, let me touch you?”
The unexpected request knocks you for a loop; echoes in your ears until you can’t make sense of the words, thoughts thick as mud.
“What?”
Heart thudding in your chest, you peek at his profile from beneath your lashes. It’s harder to breathe, the air sucker punched from your lungs in a shaky exhale. Heat settles into the apples of your cheeks.
“I- no…”
His expression is inscrutable - hidden behind a sea of scarlet fabric. You’re stuck tracking the subtle twitch of his shoulder, the twiddle of his thumbs, as he processes your response.
You wish - not for the first time - Parker wasn’t wearing his mask.
“Please,” he says. “It’s so hot.”
Instead of waiting for you to reject him again, Parker squirms closer and tugs the mask up over his chin. The fabric exposes the lower half of his face, bunching under his nose.
Your eyes follow the line of his jaw to the tender curve of his mouth. And then your attention snags and refuses to budge, your mind conjuring up many scenarios wherein you bite his lips red and raw yourself.
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.
Honestly, this entire situation is cruel - to the both of you. Parker, for obvious reasons, and you - well… You haven’t felt this wound up since you were a teenager, your restraint stretched bow string taut.
“I won’t do anything weird, I just — can’t take it anymore. Need to touch you.” Parker draws in a shuddered breath, a hand scrubbing over the nape of his neck. His voice cracks, low and desperate, “Please, it’ll help… I think…”
Any response you had turns to ash on your tongue at the flash of his tongue whetting his lips. Curling through your mind is a far-off dream better left between the sheets; the image of his head buried in your thighs - his curls tickling your skin and his mouth sugar-sweet on your cunt.
Almost as if he hears your thoughts, his wide jaw flexes and his nostrils flare. A thrum of molten heat bubbles to life deep in your belly, bolts of arousal hooking behind your navel and tugging at your edges until you almost crack like fine china.
Thighs clenched, you choke on a sigh of appreciation when your gaze wanders to the erection stretching out the front of his suit. You rip your eyes away as quickly as they settle, but any hope that Parker didn’t notice where your attention strayed goes out the window when he clears his throat and covers himself with a hand.
Before you can apologize in some awkward, roundabout way, a wide palm wraps around your wrist. He traces shapes into your skin, fabric catching on your pulse point with every pass of his thumb.
“Please don’t make me stop.”
“... Parker…”
Huffing, his hand cups your shoulder, his fingers tense as it seems to do little more than frustrate him.
“--It’s not working. Off, off!” he hisses. “Hn - need’ta get this stupid,” he yanks off his mask and tugs at the torso of the suit, “thing off.”
After a quick smack of the spider emblem affixed, his suit pools around his hips in a puddle of red and blue. The firm planes of his chest glow gold in the dimmed light, the glitter of sweat enhancing the cut of his torso.
Shoulders, broad and capped with thick muscles, melt into a trim waist. Goosebumps burst across his forearms as everything rushes in all at once with nothing to filter the excess stimuli.
Parker flexes his hands, your attention dragged to the constellation of freckles dotting his abs, and oh...
Shit. Lids half-mast, you suck your teeth and pinch your thigh. Remember, no touching.
…Even if you want to map that pattern out with your lips, carve their paths with your tongue. It’s like you’re noticing him for the first time, your head spinning with the realization that as much as you poke fun, he’s not much younger than you.
You’ve always thought of him as a little brother, attractive in that charming boy next door way - all strawberries and cream. And now the urge to nibble on the jut of his hip makes your mouth water, your teeth ache.
It’s as you’re reaching out to see for yourself if his skin is as soft as it looks when he breathes your name. A breathy, awe-filled exaltation that shatters the trance, his eyes wide and eager.
Freezing, you swallow rough and exhale slow. Bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep you grounded. And when your hands don’t stop shaking, you sit on them. That was way too close for comfort.
“What’d you think you’re doing, Parker?” you ask.
Only it’s more like sharing breath, your voice hushed and far too intimate - an open wound that exposes all your raw nerve endings. You’re too afraid to break the strange tension electrifying the distance between you.
Shuffling closer until his knees dig into your thigh, Parker tucks his ankles under himself and reaches out. His eyes beg for relief, pupils blown wide. “Just let me…”
Bridging the gap, his palm settles on you without a barrier for the first time. A deep groan punches out of his chest, his fingertips digging into the meat of your upper arm. His eyes slam shut, his mouth dropping into a slack o.
Awareness sizzles at the points of contact, his hand sliding back over the curve of your shoulder. Even through your shirt his palm is unnaturally warm and clammy. Shivers branch through your limbs when his knuckles stroke over your fluttering pulse.
“Parker -- Peter.”
Your calls for attention go unheeded, the web slinger pushing until you find yourself sprawled across the couch with him on top of you. Torso plastered to yours, his body is a too warm weight as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck.
His next exhale shudders from him.
Parker sighs. “Mm, you smell really good.”
Content for the moment, he traces the line of your throat and ends behind your ear. Puffs of moist breath tickle your skin as he breathes you in; your scent a cooling balm that tames the blood boiling in his veins, albeit temporarily.  
“Like really, really good,” Parker slurs, low and punch drunk. “D’ya know that?”
Patting the back of his head with a chuckle, your own falls back in defeat. This is so not how you expected to spend your day off, swallowing down all the inappropriate feelings welling up in the face of Parker’s inability to keep his greedy hands to himself.
“Thanks, kid.”
You throw out the nickname in an attempt to pump the brakes, give yourself time to muster up some semblance of self control. He’s already got a crush on you the size of the moon - there’s no reason to give him false hope.
His face is burrowed in the side of your neck so you can’t see his expression but when he responds, there’s no mistaking the petulance threaded through his words, “Don’ call me that.”
You hate how endearing that is.
“‘m not a kid…”
“Yeah, uh-huh. You’re not a kid.”
“‘m not.”
You leave him to his sulking, pleased this is helping even if it’s awkward. It’s going to be weird after this, but you’re sure things will return to normal. The dynamic will repair itself and you can go back to pretending you don’t know how Parker feels about you.
You fall into a rhythm, occupying yourself by running your fingers down the back of his neck. Smothering a smile at the hum rumbling from his chest into yours, you drag your nails along the pink skin.
Parker shudders in your arms. Lips glide over the sweep of your jaw.
Mouth opening, you start to protest when he ducks down to skim his lips over yours, the kiss petal soft.
His chest heaves where it’s pressed to yours, his hips flexing against your thigh in little aborted thrusts. A damp patch blooms on the crotch of his suit, Parker whining low and wounded as he works himself up.
The downright sinful grunts and breathy groans stoking the embers of your desire, a rush of heat stealing across the bridge of your nose. Your voice cracks, "Parker, stop!”
“God, ‘m so sorry.” Hands shackle your wrists to the cushion. “I wish I could, I really do, but - I can’t, you smell so good and I…”
Your wrists twist in his grip, and press for his attention, “Peter, let go.”
A hot tongue drags over your pulse. Then a flash of teeth and gentle suction as the web slinger draws your skin into his mouth. He releases with a wet pop, pressing a tiny kiss to the abused spot.
“Let me - just a little, I promise.”
His plea gives you pause long enough for him to seize his opportunity with both hands before it floats away. The musky scent of arousal is thick in the air, saturated with a scorched spice that burns your nose but compels you all the same.
Parker’s lips tremble inches away from your own. “Can I - can I kiss you?”
The effort is sweet, but you both know he can’t do much else but submit to his whims. In fact, you encourage him to kiss you harder with a tug of his curls. He’s like a man starved of touch, all consuming as his hands stroke the curves of your body, drawing you into the breadth of his torso.
“Oh my god, ‘m so sorry I just - shit, you feel…”
It’s like being doused in gasoline; once he’s tasted you, he can’t stop.
Only pulling away long enough to get a few words out at a time. He’s hungry and searching, his tongue soft and curious where it licks along the tender inside of your lip. You moan. The obscene glide is just the right amount of filthy to get your toes curling.
“Shit, Parker.” Catching his lip on the release, you give it a teasing nip. ”Never would’ve guessed.”
“Oh, that’s...”
Never finishing the wayward thought, Parker surges forward with a new found voracity. Every kiss is different. Some are so long and deep you’re left gasping for breath. Others are nothing more than sharing space.
Any lack of finesse is more than made up for with how eager he is. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up on which way he needs to flick his tongue to get your hands in his hair or how to get those honeyed moans to tumble from your lips.
Enthusiasm gets the better of him, his hips finding a home between your thighs. And then he’s lining up with your core and rutting forward into the cradle of your body. The angle’s perfect.
The fat head of his cock nudges your clit through two layers of clothing, a rush of heat trickling down your spine like water from the muted stimulation. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, every measured grind making you aware of how messy your pussy is, panties sticking to your swollen folds.
You jerk, breath rushing from you in a low hiss.
“Did I - are you - ohh, my ghaaah…” Panting, Parker flicks his sweaty curls out of the way and white knuckles the cushion by your ribs. “You okay? Was that too much?”
His hips are slow to stop, but once he does a plaintive whine escapes at the lack of friction. His eyes are hazy and brimming with tears, shaking apart on top of you with the effort it takes to stop his mindless rutting.
It’s difficult replying through the whimper trapped at the back of your throat but you manage somehow. “No, no I’m - fine, it’s fine. Just - you can keep going.”
A livewire of raw nerves, it’s not long before Parker gets frantic again. This time he’s throwing his whole body into every thrust, his arms a cage that keeps every available inch of your body pressed to him.
He can’t decide where to settle his hands, palms hovering over your tits before dropping to the dip of your waist. They grope at your thigh and then inch up to dig into your hips. His cock throbs in time with his heartbeat, a swollen line that spreads you open with every pulse, every twitch.
The friction’s too much. Not enough. Prolongs the inevitable. Drives him higher and higher and higher - and hangs him there. One wave of burning arousal flows into another until he’s sick with the instinct to touch, suck, fuck it out of his system.
The pollen accounts for most of it but it’d be a lie to say it’s not filthy-dirty-hot how wrecked he is above you… And he’s not even buried deep inside you - yet. But god, you wish he was.
It would be a mutually beneficial resolution...
“Can - oh fuck - can smell how wet you are right now.”
The words break him, his back rippling with hitched little breaths. Finally shoved past the breaking point. You’re surprised he’s held out this long. Desperate little kisses pepper the length of your neck.
Your heart lodges somewhere in your throat, unsure of what to do. You’ve always hated seeing him upset but what the hell are you supposed to do now? Should you even do anything? He’s in so much pain but surely someone will walk through that door any minute with the antidote.
“Parker?” you ask. “What can I do?”
Cupping his face, you unstick him from your neck and search for the answer in the depths of his eyes. His skin is burning up, flushed and dewy with sweat. His curls stick to his cheeks, a wild halo scattered in all directions. His gaze is dark - full of intent. Self-control ripped to shreds, trapped in the throes of insatiable lust.
“Please, I can’t - I can’t,” Parker sobs. “...s’not enough. It still hurts.”
Damnit.
How can you say no to those pathetic eyes filled to the brim with tears. Everyone hoped it wouldn’t come to this but… Circumstances being what they are, you have to re-evaluate. He’s already suffered enough, hasn’t he?
“Have you even seen a pair of boobs in person before?”
A furrow develops between his brows and he chews on his lip, his throat bobbing. His fingers twist in the fabric of your shirt. The little shake of his head is so quick and short that you’d have missed it if you weren’t watching for it.
“Man, this is so embarrassing…”
He refuses to look at you, glaring at a spot on the couch somewhere around your shoulder and that just won’t do. Especially if you’re about to be the one to pop his top. You’d like to still have a relationship with him after all’s said and done. Can’t do that if he won’t even be able to look you in the eye.
Losing his virginity because he’s forced to is already horrible. No need to give him a complex. A split second decision has you shushing him, stroking the sweep of his cheekbone and wicking away the tears.
“It’s okay, Peter,” you say. His first name tastes far too sweet, fizzling like champagne on your tongue. “Pinky promise.”
His eyes squeeze shut, his body sagging into you, and he slurs a litany of thank you’s into your neck before preoccupying himself with nipping at your collarbone. Working a hand between the press of your bellies, you slip into the bottom half of the suit and take hold of him for the first time.
Velvet soft, he throbs in your palm and whines at the foreign touch.
“O-Ohh, haah, my - fffuhh.”
Pre-cum drools from the slit, your hand soaked after a few sloppy warm up strokes. The wet schlick of his cock sliding through your fingers gets your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing. The scent of sex teasing your senses, heavy in the air and daring you to push him over the edge he’s been straddling.
“You good?” you ask, swiping your thumb along the ridge of his cockhead. “It’s not too rough?”
He chokes on his inhale, arching back so far he’s sure to pull something.
Taking his reaction as confirmation, your nails drag through the neat thatch of hair curled around the base of his shaft. It’s a little cramped but with a little maneuvering you get your fingers around the thickness of him and gently squeeze the filled out shaft.
He jerks in your grip, hips twitching. “Shit, fuck, oh my god--”
“Mm, that’s it, Peter.” You encourage him to fuck up into the circle of your fist, playing with his weeping slit. Your strokes are languid, sure. "Use my hand, let me help you feel better.”
Who knows, maybe this’ll be enough.
“I - I want…” He breaks off with a full body shudder, curling in on himself. “--Please!”
“What is it?” Working your wrist, you jack him off faster and alternate the strength of your hold to hear him whimper. “What do you want, Peter?”
“I need,” he gasps, jaw clenching hard as he bites out, “you.”
Or not… Well, it’s no contest by this point.
“Okay.”
The suit and his boxers get tossed off to the side with little fanfare, a bundle of red, blue and plaid that’s quickly joined by yours. Seeing him naked for the first time takes away your breath, the etch of his body fucking devastating. He’s far from the mouthy teenager you met years ago.
“Oh, wow, you look…”
There’s a dopey smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes a physical caress as it roves over the exposed length of your body. They track every dip and curve, focusing on your tits and how your nipples tighten under his gaze before dipping to the apex of your thighs.
With a smirk, you shift back on the couch and stretch out, resting your heels on the overstuffed cushion. Your hands drag down the slope of your thighs, your knees falling open. Parker chokes, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he gets his first look at your pussy - your silken folds and aching clit on full display.
“You can do more than look, Peter.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses down on the backs of your knees. Slotting himself into the open space, he stares down at where his cock rests over your belly.
“Can’t believe I’ll fit inside you - you look so - fuck, so good.”
You hum, reaching down to give his shaft a few more strokes before arching your hips and working the swollen head between your folds. When it catches on the rim of your entrance, you let Parker take over.
“You feel so, so soft and wet.” His voice is full of wonder, his expression borderline pained at how hot your pussy is against his oversensitive cock. He groans, throaty and ragged. “H-Holy shit.”
The first few tentative thrusts rub him along the length of your slit but then his hips flex just right and he’s sinking forward into you cautiously. You whine softly at the slow glide, your gummy walls relaxing with every inch he gives.
It’s a tight fight and somehow that’s even hotter. Who’d have guessed unassuming Peter Benjamin Parker is so hung every inch of your pussy is stuffed full of his cock.
Cussing, he anchors himself on the backs of your thighs. When he bottoms out, its like being wrapped in liquid silk. A shaky sigh of relief follows his bitten off whimper, his expression heated and his cheeks rosy with fever.
Then, you fully relax and your gummy walls give under the pressure. Your cunt sucks him deeper, the spongy cockhead kissing your cervix with a wet squelch. Completely blissed out, he fixates on the sight of you stretching wide around the girth of his shaft.
“Ohhh my fuck-ing god.” Hovering over you, the normally sweet young man falls apart. “You’re taking my dick so well,” Parker breathes. “I…”
Abs clenching, his hips surge forward before he catches himself, his arms bunching with the effort of holding himself in check. Jaw working furiously, he fights through the feverish haze long enough for clarity to return, his eyes tortured and heavy but oh so very hungry.
“‘m sorry, that’s so rude to say, I just - I can’t - shit.
“Oh, Peter.”
You sigh, arching into his touch. Nevermind the tender sparks of pain you’ll be feeling for days, his hands a little too rough, too rude. Tiny sparks of black amid an ocean of pleasure.
He’s so deep every minute shift nudges the tip against your cervix, the veins dragging over your walls and hitting all your sensitive spots in a single stroke.
“Please, help me. Wanna make you feel good,” he barely breathes, one sentence running into the other without pause, “Wanna make you cum too but I...please.”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”
A frantic nod.
“Now why don’t you start moving, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah - I, okay, I can do that…”
Wrapping your legs around his, you use your feet to start him on a slow rhythm and use your hips as an example to show him how to move. Before long, he’s rocking down into you with long, heavy strokes.
“Feelin’ good, baby?”
“So good. Never thought - hhnng - never thought I’d get to do this with you.”
“Good, that’s good. Want you to feel good.”
“Tell me,” he says, sweaty forehead resting against yours so he can stare into your eyes. “Tell me what to do.”
“Faster,” you reply, “and try to grind up if you can.”
Shocks of pleasure settle between your thighs, one hand threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. He whines when you yank, tugging him down to press a sloppy kiss to his lips. The wood of the couch creaked with every rocking movement, the legs scraping across the floor with how hard he’s fucking into you.
“Wanted to do this for so long.” Parker’s slurring into the crook of your neck, sucking on the tender skin. “Thought about it every time I saw you.”
His body cages you in, surrounds you and fills every sense with nothing but him. Sharp hip bones smack into the backs of your thighs, his ass flexing beneath your feet as he stuffs you full of cock over and over again.
His breathing is erratic, fast and heavy with effort. After a few more thrusts, his shaft starts to throb with every sloppy roll of his hips. Clutching you closer, his face slips down to your chest where he burrows between your breasts.”I’m - I’m…”
“Peter, I swear I’ll make you regret it if you cum inside.”
“Shit - you can’t just say stuff like that.” He chokes on your name, his hands flexing on your thighs. “‘m not gonna last much longer.”
When he pulls back to look down at you, you notice how much his arms tremble. When your gazes lock, the wordless plea hidden in the depths of his eyes makes your breath rush from you in a low throated groan. Your walls ripple at the sound, slick gushing over his lap when you clench down around his shaft.
Immediately, his arms buckle.
“Fuck! You - you can’t just do that.”
Catching himself at the last second, he ruts forward desperately amid the distant sound of ripping fabric and the wet slap of his cock driving balls deep into your needy cunt.
“Not yet, Peter,” you pant into his ear, hips twisting to the side so when he slides in, the head slams into your g-spot full on. “Just a little longer, please, baby. I’m almost there too...”
The tremor starts in your limbs, your hands numb and knees weak. Every shift feels like it scrapes down your spine, your nerves hyperaware and oversensitive. It might’ve taken you a second to establish a rhythm that works for the both of you but it’s so worth it.
A yawning need takes root in your core, you reach down to brush over your clit - the swollen bundle of nerves jumping beneath the pads of your fingers. Toying with your clit, tracing your slit and feeling where he stretches you open brings you right to the edge.
The pressure builds in the base of your spine, the pool of warmth in your belly threatening to wash over you like a tidal wave. Tingles of sensation zip down your spine and through your nerves, your body locking up and your pussy clenching from the dual sensation of a cock stuffing you full and your clit pinned beneath your finger.
“Peter, right there - oh fuck - right there! I’m gonna - gonna…!”
Everything flashes black, every muscle in your body pulled taut. Your hands anchor themselves onto his shoulders, your nails scratching at his skin as you cum harder than you have in a long time. It’s a wet, messy orgasm that leaves you rung out and twitching, your pussy pulsing with every beat of your heart.
Tears slide down your cheeks and you whine, too high on euphoria to care whether or not he cums inside. After all, if he did, you could always make him clean it up with his tongue…
Hips stuttering against your ass, Parker’s mouth drops open in a soundless shout. Buried deep inside you feel his cock throb once, twice, three times before he’s ripping himself away at the last possible second.
Milky slick follows his exit, oozing out of your tender pussy and dripping down your ass to darken the fabric of the couch. Pleasure drunk, you’re almost tempted to have him pump you full but then he’s coming - finally - his shaft bobbing with every thick spurt he shoots over the top of your mound.
His sigh of relief makes you smile, half dazed while he watches his cum drip down over your abused slit. His thumbs slide over your puffy folds, spreading them to see how fucked open you are while massassing his load into your tender clit.
“So pretty ‘n it’s all because of me,” he murmurs, enchanted while you twitch with aftershocks. Between his thighs, his erection remains unflagging. “Can we keep going?”
2K notes · View notes
writer-akihiko · 3 years
Note
Hi! If that's okay could i request some angst for the first years (+Grim, Crewel and Crowley? Platonic only for them)
MC/Yuu runs away from NRC due to all the shit they've been put through because of Crowley not doing his job, they do finally find them some days later but MC refuses to go back to NRC and tells Crowley that they despise him.
Reactions?
First Years + MC Running Away [+Plat!Crewel & Crowley]
I love the angst for this, and planning the emotions that they would feel! The dorm leaders also make a cameo in Crewel and Crowley's part. Cut for length.
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Emotional Manipulation, Curse Words, Wounds and Mild Violence. Please read at your own discretion.
"I'm not going back."
"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"
No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek was in a dilemma. He wanted to go back to NRC because of Malleus, but you refused to. You still meant a lot to him of course, but he still wanted to stay in NRC. He reached out to you, holding you in place with his Fae strength.
"YN, we have to go back. Please don't be unreasonable," He begged. There was no way he wasn't going without you.
You shook your head, trying to tug against Sebek as much as possible. There was no way you could fight against him, and you wouldn't want to hurt him either. "Sebek... Sebek just let me go. I'm just a human and..."
The moment was ruined with Crowley showing up, yelling at Sebek to bring you back. You mustered as much of your voice as you could. "No! Don't take me back!" You screamed at Sebek, who was holding you in a lock. "I hate him! I hate him, don't do this to me Sebek!"
His grip almost loosened at you saying you hated Crowley. Actually, he thought it was directed at him. It took a lot of effort for Sebek not to cry because he knew. He knew how much you didn't deserve the things you faced. The Overblots, the treatment and sheer alienation from other students, Crowley's neglect... He knew.
He blamed himself for getting so caught up in what his Master was doing that he forgot to care about you. When he found out that you ran away, he felt as if he deserved it. He pulled you in, tucking you against his chest and allowing you to cry.
He didn't bring you closer to the others, neither did he bring you away. He kept you close to him, as your tears stained his perfect uniform. Not a word came from him when you cried into him. It was kept that way, as the half-Fae dared to growl at Crowley and anyone else that took a step closer to you.
"YN... You're safe with me, alright?"
Ace Trappola
He told himself that he wouldn't get mad, but your refusal just rubbed salt in wounds as he remembered the sleepless nights of trying to find you. Beneath all of it, he was scared. He was scared that he lost you to some one else. He was scared that this world never suited you, and you finally went to your own, leaving him alone.
"What do you mean you're not going back?! YN, stop screwing around with me!" He screamed, throwing his magic pen to the ground. At this point, he was pissed about anything relating to magic. Magic was useless when it came to finding you.
"I'm not going so leave me alone Ace..." You told him, tears nearing at your eyes. "I don't want to. I don't want to. I'm done with Crowley's shit and I'm done with NRC."
You took a running start, but Ace caught you, pushing you to the ground. His expression caught you off-guard. He was crying, eyes puffy and tired as his face was pale, as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep.
"You're done?! How could you... I..." He didn't know what to say. You were right. You had dealt with enough. You never deserved it... If it weren't for him and his troublemaking ways... Maybe you wouldn't have to suffer...
"I'm sorry..." He coughed out, his voice strained. He kept you pinned on the ground, as his tears flowed with yours. "I'm sorry for being an idiot. I'm sorry for dragging you into trouble. I know you don't deserve it but I'm an asshole that does anyway..."
"Ace..."
"But!..." He went on, his eyes glossing over as he admired you once again. Oh... you were beautiful to him, even if you were crying in his arms. "But I'm selfish. I didn't want to let you go so I went after you instead... So hit me if you want, scream or punch me... I don't care, just don't leave me."
He sat up, pulling you into his lap, his chin under your head. "I was so lonely without you YN..."
"Godammit I love you..." He choked out, his tears never-ending. You both sat there, hugging each other as if it were your last days. You didn't dare to let go of him this time.
Deuce Spade
He didn't know how to respond. All he knew was that he had to hold onto you before you ran away from him once again. "YN... Wait... Don't leave!"
He wondered if he even made the right choice to stay on the side of bringing you back. From just the look of you, he knew you were tired. He knew those responsibilities were never yours. Your suffering just proved to Deuce how powerless he was. Maybe that's why he wanted to bring you back... as proof that he could do something for you.
"YN... I'm sorry..." He said, holding you close to him. There wasn't a thing he could do for you. All you went through... It was Crowley's irresponsibility. He did this to you. Deuce's grip tightened on you, as he though of what it could've done to your psyche. "YN... YN... I'll make sure he doesn't touch you. I'll make sure that he never comes near you again... YN, you trust me right?"
For all the times he wasn't with you, he was determined to make up for it. Deuce wasn't going to let you suffer through this alone, even if it means he gets hurt. It was better for him to get hurt than you, even though he was so desperate to ask Crowley to find you.
You nodded, hiding into Deuce's chest. His heart was beating so fast, most likely from the never ending search for you. You never regretted running away, but you missed Deuce and your other friends, and Grim too. The one thing you regretted was accepting Crowley's offer to stay here.
"I don't care what you do to me," You told him. "Just don't take me back. I don't to go back. I don't want to go back to NRC..." Your body trembled at the thought of moving back to NRC, but all thoughts of it were abandoned as you saw Crowley approach you.
You screamed, but he never touched you. Deuce stood in the way, as he shielded you with his own body. He pushed you back, as he grabbed tightly onto his magic pen. Abandoning all morals of propriety, he glared hard at the principal.
"...Don't touch her."
Jack Howl
He wasn't going to let you run away this time. "Don't move."
Jack couldn't believe that he found you so quickly. No, that wasn't it. He couldn't believe that you were still here. Despite him having a scent on you, you could've been miles away without him knowing. He thought you went back to your own world. He thought you hated him, but by the way you hugged him, it reassured him of any thoughts he had.
There was not single part of you that did not tremble when Jack told you he wanted to take you back. Your sheer refusal turned into an argument quickly, as you listed all the sufferings you went through. It was confusing and agonising for Jack to listen to you. He knew you needed this, but some of the things you said sent shivers down his spine.
"I…"
"It's okay YN. You don't have to go back," He whispered to you. Jack's ears flattened as yours tears made your eyes puffy. He got flustered since he didn't know how to comfort you any further, busying himself with wiping away your tears instead.
Jack was sharp. He knew Crowley was out to get you, even if you didn't want to. He wanted the easy way out, but Jack wasn't going to give him the chance. There was no reason why Jack shouldn't help you… but he'd be lying if he weren't scared of what would happen if you both were caught.
You and Jack had the same train of thought, so you shook your head. "No Jack… I have to…" You told him, your voice raspy. "You already found me and there's no use. You… You can't outrun him with me…"
Jack growled, baring his teeth at the person who caused you such misery. His claws were out, as he hid you behind him. You didn't make a sound, paralysed by the very person that pulled you in this hell. You only met eyes with Crowley for a moment, as the world swirled around you.
"I know I can't… But I'm sure as hell am going to try…" Jack ran away from the principal, with you tightly in his arms as he made a run for it.
Epel Felmier
He was more than angry. He never understood why you and him but now it was evident. It was because both of you were stubborn. You both always tried to grasp what you wanted, and in the light of attaining it, you both always made a run for it. For him it was power… and for you, it was freedom.
"Damn it!..." He cursed underneath his breath, quickly removing his jacket and covering your head in it. You were probably hungry and tired. You were probably scared. What was he supposed to do?...
How did it come to this? He was supposed to be the one that supported your desires, no matter how big or small as you did the same to him. But now, with him using Crowley to get to you… What was he doing? This was hurting you, not helping you.
He moved away from you, ripping off the magical tracking device off of him. "You damn liar!" He screamed. "How dare you hurt her like this… Do you think I'm some stupid puppet?! Like hell you're gonna reach her with my help!"
Epel stomped and tore the device apart, grunting at every time the magic deflection hit him. He didn't stop, ripping further into the grass as he cried for your sake. He never meant to do this to you. He got up, taking you by the wrist and pulling you much deeper into the forest.
"YN… YN we have to go. They were tracking me and they- they might…"
You stopped in your tracks.
"YN?"
You hugged Epel, holding him tight. He snapped out of his delusions, turning to panic about your well-being. "Are you hurt? If you can't walk I'll carry you, but we have to get away-"
"Stop Epel," You said, taking his hands into yours. "Stop… It's okay… I'm okay… I can't make it any further and I don't blame you… I just… wanted it to not hurt for a bit."
He broke down in your arms, as you both collapsed to the ground. Filled with exhaustion, you could only grip to his hands weakly. Before your eyes darkened, you remembered his last words.
"I'm sorry…"
Divus Crewel
He's horrified at your state. All his emotions were bottled for the time being. There was no reason for a puppy like you to be exposed to such horrid emotions from him. He shrugs off his fluffy coat, covering you in the coat, as he carries you in the coat.
Dire was quick to catch up to him, but alas, all that Divus had for him was disappointment. Even from teacher to teacher, no… even from magician to magician… all respect for Dire that he had vanished. The dorm leaders caught up with the principal, and from the looks of it, they were horrified.
"For this puppy to end up like this…"
No, he couldn't get angry now. He had to be the example to other students. Rosehearts, Al-Asim and Ashengrotto were in tears, while Draconia and Kingscholar were murderous. If it weren't the difference of authority, Divus would bet those two would maul Dire where he stood.
"Draconia. Schoenheit. Take YN away and treat her wounds," He commanded. Still wrapped in his coat, Malleus brought you to the others, as Vil observed for any of your wounds. Divus signalled the other students away as he took off one of his gloves, glaring at Dire. "I need to talk with the principal."
Dire was still, as Divus delivered a clean punch across his face. There was no need for further violence. It'd be an insult to what you suffered. Divus grabbed Dire by the collar, almost sneering at him. "Did you realise what you've done to that puppy? She's scared, she's suffered all because of you."
He left Dire alone. It's what he deserved. There was nothing to be done. If he further pummeled the crow man, he might just kill him right then and there. Divus, for now, had to be by your side as your father figure and welcome you back safely to NRC as you were meant to be. Before leaving, he picked up his sullied glove from the floor, saying his last to Dire.
"You don't deserve to be her father."
Dire Crowley
He was ashamed to use his magic on you, but he had to prevent you from running. It was a necessary measure, but the real thorns were your words that pierced through his heart. You yelled insults, curses and cusses at him as if you were held at gunpoint, your lungs exhausted from the constant shrieking.
"No no! Let me go," You begged. "I hate you, I hate you I hate you!" You chanted it as if it were a spell. "I wish you never took me in. Don't touch me!"
The words were enough for the magic to weaken, granting you your escape. Dire was not swift enough, but the Dorm Leaders were. They heard everything, every complaint you threw at Dire and every insult you had for him. Malleus caught you, but as soon you knew it was him, you pushed him away.
"No… NO! I am NOT GOING BACK!" You cried, holding your head in your hands, crouching into a ball. Leona quickly knocked you out. If you went on, you would've hurt yourself and the injuries you sustained from running away was concerning enough.
Against all odds, those seven turned to the principal, with faces of betrayal. All you had been through… They did not realise what burden Dire, and subsequently, they placed on you.
"Crowley… you were never gracious."
Dire was hopeless. He couldn't comfort you, he knew he couldn't be forgiven. He stood in his place, accepting his fate at the moment. He couldn't ask for your mercy nor forgiveness, and perhaps that was his fate. To be cursed by whoever he neglected.
"Please, take care of her for now."
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ateezinmymind · 3 years
Text
ateez and their size kink
warning: smut, fem! reader
requested by anon,, thank you so much!! i hope this is okay.. i’m sorry if it’s not— i’m on the taller side so— i’m like :/ eh?
hongjoong:
to be one hundred percent honest i think he wouldn’t be one to say he’d have that kink ..at first !!
but the way you would just look so cute under him while he’s railing into you... he’s like wait
he’d love to run his hands all over you just to see the comparison
cups your boobs/chest
because he’s shorter.. he’d never put it away
like ALWAYS teasing you..
“hey joongie” you call from your room to your lover in the living room. making him enter the room to you laying on the bed, sprawled out on your back- causing his dick to twitch in his pants from the sight of your body. your robe the only thing on your body, loosely fit and opened, letting your glistening heat be the center of attention.
“naughty little baby... what are you doing?” he growls out coming to the edge of the bed, grabbing ahold of your ankles to pull you closer to his growing member. gasping out from the sudden jerk and now close proximity to his tent- you stutter out your best “mmmh- i need you p-pretty please?”
“and what exactly does my baby need?” he says lowly, now squeezing your thighs deliciously in his hands. making you shiver, “your cock.”
“is that right?” hongjoong hums out when he brings his hands down to rake up your stomach and to your beautiful breasts. causing you to whine more and put your hands over his, and then to his zipper- fumbling with it while chanting and repeating “yes”
he just watches the pout form upon your lips when your hands are too shaky, so when you huff out- hongjoong immediately pushes you back down and shows you how to do it properly. ending with him fucking your tiny pussy before he could even take off his clothes.
“little baby... so small”
seonghwa:
cocky #1
melts his heart honestly.. like how??
DIRTY TALKER
or more like dirty praises?
please let him cum in your tiny pussy
HE WILL FILL YOU FULL
he wondered if it was just affecting him- how small you were in comparison.
you were so small and cute, it made seonghwa become someone he had to calm down. constantly touching you, you were his little thing to fuck and love- not anyone else’s
“you like that huh? my thick cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he growls right against the shell of your ear, while you throw your head back into his neck letting out moans of pleasure.
“yes, yes! seonghwa you’re so big”
and always when you did your chanting about how much you were in admiration for his bigger size, immediately and always made seonghwa want to bust.
it was something he took so much pride into, like yes. yes he was so big, only for you- and he would never live it down, constantly reminding you in anyway that you were on the lower level.
“mmmh gonna fuck my cum in you yeah? you want that? to fill you so full it’ll spill out of your tiny hole?”
just give him the go ahead and he’ll let go.
only to fuck you over and over again until everything spills to your thighs and onto the bedsheets
yunho:
please wear his clothes
he LOVES to fuck you in his big hoodie/shirt
TUMMY BULGE!!
he knows he big so he’s extremely careful when you’re so much smaller
cockwarming!!
but deep down he really wants to destroy you
as he watches his cock slide in and out of your wet heat from his hovering stance. yunho’s hands veiny, under your (his) clothes and resting on your stomach- he feels himself poke from your inners.
the feeling sending him into oblivion, hips frantic- but gentle hearing every whimper fall from your little lips and how your walls clench desperately around him.
“baby? s-stop clenching so hard” groaning out watching your eyes roll back and body to grow limp in his big hoodie covering your top half, yunho feels himself start to lose control
“b-but i can’t- you feel so good yuyu” moaning out blissfully. each word and sounds making him grow hotter and harder
your legs spread apart so wonderfully for him, as he fucks into your body cushioned on the bed. the morning sun peeking ever so slightly from the window blinds, lighting the room- such a beautiful setting for such lewd antics
slapping sounds, so erotic- waking up wanting and needing you, yunho had caved in
you were so small, but by far the warmest- pleasurable feeling
yeosang:
he’d be like ... wow ... tiny
hahahHAHAH jkjk no
but he’d be soooo AMAZED
like.. for real would think he’s going to break you
i think he would really like you to give him HANDJOBS!!
your tiny hands wrapped around him— fuck
he didn’t think that watching a show on tv, with you sitting on the floor while he in the sofa- you between his legs. that he’d be getting hard and actually cause you to crack first.
no way was yeosang going to interrupt your show for a little bedroom playtime, so when it was you who made the first move- things set sail
your fingers brushing over his tip, gathering his leaking arousal- yeosang kept his eyes down watching every move of your small digits and the way both your hands jacking him off looked.
you made him feel huge, and it was true
“y/n- fuck” bucking his hips up, yeosang twitches closer to the edge
having no idea why you’re making him feel close so fast, you just were irresistible with those small features…. all so tempting-
“you can’t even wrap your hands around me~”
but just wait until after he grunts out his dirty comments and amazement, and cums over your hands- it’ll make him hard all over again, and then he’ll compare his size to the tightness of your cunt
san:
cocky #2
are we surprised? not really no
but there’s two things.. does he want to rip you apart or spare you the delicacy?
DEPENDS ON HIS MOOD
if he’s hornyyyy- it’s game over
he’ll do the whole nine— but you better beg
okay doggy would be a position you and san spend having sex in quite a lot.
especially if he’s feeling greedy and pretty much like the most prideful man on earth- because.. i mean he’s the biggest compared to the little baby you are.
“this small pussy takes my big cock so well huh?” he questions you in a low level moan while gripping ahold of your hips tightly
hitting in you perfectly every time, cries of pleasure rip out of you- as your arms can’t keep your upper body up any longer. “mmm- yes! only for you!”
san loves holding his hands on the small of your back while moving his hips in deliberately- making you fall apart just to his doing. your moans made him gleam with delight. and he couldn’t get enough.
so when san pulls out of your sopping cunt- leaving your orgasm to fade away into the midst of no pleasure. and you begin the begging
oh boy. “sannie! n-no don’t stop!! please stretch me out!” with a pout on your lips and hands trailing down to play with your clit- “i need your big cock~”
he’s back in- pounding into you like no tomorrow.. better yet, you’ll be going on until tomorrow- up all night, ripping orgasm after orgasm from your little body
mingi:
princess boy would think you were so cute
omg like :O
YOU ON TOP = MOANING MESS
your small body taking his big everything would make him so bananas
like.. please RIDE HIS THIGHS
climbing on the thickness of mingi’s thighs, two things were going to happen. one; he was going to take in every second of your show and not take any of it further for him, or two; bring the aftermath of it upon you. meaning you caused this achingly hard erection to occur with the friction of your pussy against his thighs, so why don’t you just be so kind and take care of it?
seeing you on top of his spread legs, bouncing yourself up and down his dick- made him feel warmth succumb every part of his body.
“y/n, baby- yes!” deep moans into the air, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing. mingi wouldn’t have it any other way
your thighs straddling him, his cock sheathed into you at the pace you make for yourself- all of it was pure bliss
mostly it was when you reached your high. that he couldn’t take it any longer.
your hands gripping tightly into his shoulders, as you continuously abused your sweet hole with him, clenching, moaning- throwing yourself forward to his chest.
once you hit your climax, mingi needs to pull out to spurt his cum over the small of your stomach. absolutely covering you with his white paint. so much of it- just to be splattered about, all over your panting and heaving self was absolutely pristine
wooyoung:
cocky #3
holy hell, YOURE GOING TO NEED HELP
he will ALWAYS make sure you know just how small you really are
like... oh? you can’t reach that? too bad
SO RUDEEE (not really but like) TEASE!
SUCK HIM OFF PLEASE!! he’ll get so whiny
“you little whore huh? really that’s what you are! a tiny little wh- uH~!”
constantly. everytime he’d ramble about having his thick big dick in the smallest little thing of a mouth you have, giving him just a quick suck and pump of your hands- sent wooyoung into a babbling mess.
to the point where you’d have him bucking up with need- because all you do is be small. that’s it.
be the small thing he gets to fuck and love.
oh? you’re hungry? take his cock. oh? you’re bored? take his cock.
it was simple yet exciting. you loved taking him in every way. and he loved the way you- so little yet so proud and confident that wooyoung wouldn’t let it go.
“you j-just can’t get enough can you?” as soon as the stuttering comes repeatedly- it was a cue for you to brace yourself for a load of his seed.
lips wrapped tight around him, your wet little tongue licking and ravishing…. what a sight.
it’s even better when it’s decorated with the milky white of his cum~
jongho:
something inside him will unlock
and he will want to suddenly make you a MESS
MANHANDLING i swear on it
he will lift you up just in regular life
AND in the bedroom
DOES ALL SORTS OF FUCKING- against the wall, standing, etc
it was the little whine that escaped your mouth when jongho had picked you up from the floor and onto the counter when you two were making out- that he knew, fuck yes.
“oh? you’re becoming more and more dumb each time i fuck your tight pussy, hmm” jongho can help the lowness of his voice to become while feeling the way you get even tighter around him, “maybe i ought to fuck you with something else but my cock?”
“no! no! y-your cock please mmmmh- only yours jongho!” your pleading whines that turn into moans into the crook of his neck, for the way he holds you leaves you no choice but to throw your head into
having your body pinned against the wall, so small- easy to use in his advantage and liking
jongho enjoyed the way you were able to be taken anywhere, and in any way. while even during the normal of the day in life- and your going about in public, how you constantly pressed your tiny hands against his abdomen holding him close. jongho, either had a hand cupping your ass or you palming him
no matter the circumstance. jongho lives to see the baby he loves- so small and sweet be needy and breakable to his every demand…
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hispipsqueak · 3 years
Text
Model Behavior
Mammon x F!Reader - NSFW  WC:2K
Summary: Mammon and MC get roped into a photo shoot that gets a little bit spicy TW: unprotected sex, creampie. semi-public, oral (F receiving) A/N: AHHHH are you guys as hype for the OM anime??? VIP gets it this Friday and I am HYPE!! Can’t wait to see all my beautiful boys. Also, I’ve been writing this for like a month and finally finished it today since I forced myself to stay awake til it was over. I’m sleepy. I hope you enjoy. 
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"Hurry up MC! These fashion types always get pissy when I'm late." Mammon tugged your arm, dragging you behind him. 
"Calm down! We'll be there on time." You said, but sped up anyway. Mammon was dragging you along to one of his photo shoots. You had to admit you were a bit excited, though you were trying to play it cool. The ivory-haired demon was already super attractive, but these photoshoots made him look incredible. You may have had a couple of your favorite magazine covers and ads of him hidden in your room.
But he didn't have to know that.
"I'm here. Let's go!" Mammon yelled out as he slammed the door open. He lifted his shades and tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair.
"Ah Mammon! Fashionably late as always...ah, but who is this?" A glamorous looking older witch peered at you over her eyeglasses. She reached out and gripped your chin. turning your face to either side.
"Hey, hands off the human!" Mammon suddenly tugged you back behind him, much to the witches amusement. 
"A human? And so attractive at that...SCRAP THIS! I have a new vision! We are going to go BOLD, daring, sensual! Get them both into wardrobe!" she barked to two frazzled lesser demons, who pushed you and Mammon down a hallway. Mammon tightened his grip on your hand.
"Wha-Oi! Keep yer hands where I can see 'em!" Mammon threatened one of the demons as they pulled off your jacket. Another frazzled demon came in and handed you each a garment bag, pushing you both towards two curtained off dressing rooms.
"Um, I'm not really a model." You called out to nobody in particular.
Mammon sighed and you heard the rustling of fabric as he dressed. 
"It's no use MC. Once she gets a vision, it's gonna happen. Hurry up and get dressed."
You unzipped the bag and your eyes widened at the little amount of fabric. You heard the witch yell out more directions in the distance and you pulled the dress on. 
Either she really gauged your size quickly or the outfit was charmed. because the dress fit like it was tailor made for you. The fabric hugged your curves and fell in all the right places. You looked in the mirror in front of you and gasped. The dress had cut outs along the sides and a keyhole cut, showing off ample cleavage. How the hell were you going to walk out of there in front of everyone in this?!
"Ya done, MC?" Mammon called out. You took another look at yourself before swallowing down your nerves and sliding on the attached heels.
"Uh...yeah." You pulled back the curtain.
"Let's g-" Mammon's words trailed off as he glimpsed you in the revealing dress. Your face felt hot as you could see his eyes roam down your body, taking in each slit of the fabric and down your bare legs. Your hands wrapped around yourself.
“I look ridiculous Mammon! I can’t go out like this!” You whispered, unsuccessfully covering yourself with your arms. Mammon, who hadn’t closed his mouth since earlier, finally snapped back.
“Ya look…” he never finished the thought, because you both were being shoved back to the set by the pair of demons from before. 
“Ahh! Marvelous! This is going to be the TALK of Devilgram!” The witch clapped her hands together. She squinted and started positioning the two of you.
“Mammon, darling, wrap your hand on her waist, yes just like that. MC, is it? Turn your head to Mammon’s neck. A little closer…”
You were pressed against Mammon, your lips practically attached to the soft skin of his neck. You could smell his cologne and were hyper aware of his hand splayed on your hip. She adjusted you both slightly, arching your back more and repositioning Mammon’s arms. Finally she stepped back.
“Perfect! Now look into each other’s eyes.”
You looked up and met Mammon’s golden eyes. Maybe it was the cologne or the fact that you were tangled in his arms, but your heart raced as you stared into each other’s gaze. Flashbulbs went off around the two of you and you could vaguely hear the witch making orders to the photographer, but the two of you were consumed with each other.
“Your heart’s racin’ MC. Must be because you’re next to the Great Mammon after all.” He whispered, a grin threatening to spread on his face.
“Shut up, I’m fine.” You hissed through your teeth, though you could feel your skin heating up. Damn photo lights.
“I need something that will push this over the edge. Something...that exudes sexiness…” the witch muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Hey MC, ya trust me?” Mammon asked and you nodded, confused. One of his hands splayed on your lower back and he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot right below your ear. His hand pushed you close to him, arching your back and the flashbulbs went off rapidly.
“Perfect!! Sensual and daring! I can feel the animalistic ferality!” the witch cried out.
You were at a loss for words and your eyes closed as Mammon slipped his tongue out to lap at your skin.
“Shhh…” He breathed into your neck. From the outside, the two of you looked like professional models, albeit in a suggestive pose. Inside though, your heart was jackhammering in your chest as he nipped at your ear lobe. You felt something poke your thigh and looked down.
“Mammon! Are you…hard?”
“Ya think I could control myself when you look like that? Fuck MC…” the rest of his words were muffled as his breath tickled your neck and you tried to maintain your composure.  After what felt like an eternity, the director cut the shoot for the day.
“Great work Mammon, Y/N!” The witch barked out, turning to discuss something with the crewmates. Mammon ushered you towards your dressing rooms, but pulled you into a dark office in the back of the building.
Immediately, he latched himself to your neck, pressing kisses down the column of your throat.
“So fuckin’ hot MC. Fuck it took all I had to keep from fuckin’ ya right there.” He panted out as he bit hickeys onto the tops of your breasts. He tugged down the dress, causing it to rip open.
“Shit! Mammon, that was probably a million dollars!” You wailed, eyes widening.
He continued his assault on your chest, unfazed. “Fuck it. Shouldn’t have looked so fuckin’ good, babe.” His fingers ran down your skin, now freed from the dress and he squeezed at every inch of your curves. You shivered as his fingers trailed down your hips, pulling you closer to him. 
“Mammon, someone might see us! We can’t do –”
You lost your words as he continued to kiss down your tummy, feeling his warm breath inching closer to your heat. 
“Fuck...I wanted this so damn long. I wan’a taste every inch of ya, babe.” He whispered into your skin, tugging down your panties. Immediately, he buried his tongue inside you, lapping at your soaked folds. His painted nails dug into the flesh of your thighs, as he strained to explore every bit of you. Biting your lip, you tangled your fingers into his snow-white hair, gently tugging him closer into you. A low whine escaped his lips and the vibration had your body trembling.
“Fu-fuck Mammon...don’t stop, please…” Your words were strained as he slid his fingers across your skin and teased your entrance. The cool tiles on the wall pressed against your back as you gave into him, letting him devour you.
His tongue moved in a frenzy as he plunged two fingers inside you. Your vision blurred and your grip on his hair tightened, feeling as though if you didn’t hold on, you would float away in a euphoric rush. 
“That’s it babe...ya gonna cum for me? Cum in my mouth baby, lemme taste it.” Mammon panted as his fingers curled inside you, his lips enclosing around your clit. 
You cried out as you felt your body release on his lips. Groaning into your cunt, he slid his tongue up your folds, attempting to drink every drop from you. Your body twitched with sensitivity. 
“F-fuck…’s too much.” You panted out. He slowly pulled away, his dark skin glistening with your juices and looked up at you. His gleaming eyes met yours as he stood up and pulled you into a tender kiss. You could taste the sweet tang of yourself on his tongue as he pulled you impossibly close.
Finally breaking apart, you looked up at him with hazy eyes. The two of you looked drunk on lust and wordlessly you pulled at the buttons on his shirt as he undid his belt. Your fingertips traced the muscles on his chest, down his abdomen and you shivered at the hungry look he had on his face. You could see the tent in his boxers and he looked down at you, as if to ask you for consent. 
Nodding, you pushed down the waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock. A prominent ridge ran across, separating the tan shaft from the reddish tip. Precum glistened on the tip and you could feel your cunt clench at the idea of him inside you. 
Mammon, the normally blabbermouth brother, seemed lost for words. His cockiness was gone, replaced with a softness for you, the vulnerable side of him only you got to see. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into another kiss.
“I want you so bad Mammon...please make love to me.” The words pressed into his neck like a fiery brand and he growled before lifting you onto the table and pushing himself into you. You hissed. Though he had prepped you, he was still thick and he slowed, searching your face for any discomfort. With a slight nod, your eyes fluttered as he bottomed out in you.
“You feel so good, my beautiful girl. Perfect baby…”, he whispered praises as he shallowly humped into you. You could feel the drag of his cock on your walls and you rocked to meet his thrusts. He had one hand on your lower back, the other propping the two of you up on the table and the feeling of being surrounded by him, as he gently fucked you on his cock had you gripping at his back muscles. 
“Yes...right there. Faster, ohh.” You breathed out as he plunged deeper into you, speeding up his rhythm at your request. The wood of the desk creaked and you knew if anyone was outside the door they would be able to tell exactly what the two of you were doing. But you were drunk on lust, dizzy in Mammon and he was infatuated with you, staring down at your heaving breasts as he pounded into you.
Your nails dig into his skin and his grip on you tightened as he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans. You could feel the sweat plastering his hair to his skin and with every thrust, his body seemed to scream your name.
“Not gonna be able to...hold out much longer babe. You’re squeezin’ me so tight, fuck…”  He panted into your neck, licking at the salty skin and leaving soft bites. You could feel the coil in your belly tighten as your body began to tense up. Wrapping your legs around him, you forced him into you deeper. Whimpers fell from his mouth as you bit on his shoulder.
“Fuck, fuck Mammon, I’m–” You cried out as you gushed around his cock. With a few more thrusts, Mammon yelped and pulled you against him as he spilled his seed into you. You could feel his cock throb inside you and he let out a low groan as he slowly pulled out, the mixture of the two of you spilling onto the desk and your thighs.
Your body felt wobbly and he gently laid you back on the desk. Your eyes closed and soon you felt a cloth cleaning you.
“Mmm...you’re such a sweetheart when you wanna be…” you smiled before looking down at the demon. Your eyes widened.
“MAMMON ARE YOU USING THE MILLION DOLLAR DRESS AS A CUM RAG?!”
He shrugged.
“Looks like we’ll just have to book another gig to pay it back, babe.”
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enchantestuff · 3 years
Text
hatred - Charles Leclerc
I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off
gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33
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GIF NOT MINE
warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3
2k words 
part two
It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.
You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.
You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.
Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.
You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”
Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.
“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.
“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.
“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.
“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.
“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.
“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.
“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained
“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.
“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”
Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.
You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.
He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.
“It was a sigh, dipshit.”
“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”
“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.
He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.
“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.
“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.
“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.
“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.
Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.
Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 
“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.
Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''
You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.
You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.
“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.
“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.
One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.
“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.
“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.
“Feelings mutual, love”
You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.
Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.
“No” you blatantly lied.
You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.
“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”
“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.
You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.
“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.
You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.
Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.
“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”
“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”
“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”
821 notes · View notes
msmarvelwrites · 3 years
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For Old Times' Sake
Summary: “Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue,”
Pairing: TFATWS Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Explicit sexual content, Vaginal penetration, fingering, Choking, Bucky with the filthy words, mutual pining.
Word Count: 2.8K
Authors Note: WOW! It has literally been a hot minute hasn't it? I cant say that I’m not a little excited about this 3rd lock-down in Ontario because it means I can actually find time to write. I’m sorry it’s been so long, babes. Anyways, enjoy! (I’m actually the worst and it’s been so long since I’ve done this!) The Biggest Thank You to @sweeterthanthis for literally cheering me on the entire time. This was such garbage before you came along 😂 I had so much fun with this one babe 💕 thank you for all you do ✨
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The wind whipped against your face, bruising your skin with it’s callousness. Though the unwelcomed lash was nothing compared to what was to come. Or who, for that matter. 
It had been longer than you cared to admit. The dodged calls hanging at the bottom of the icon on your phone serving as a cruel reminder of how cold you had been. Of course, it was never in your job description to take care of Bucky after Steve left— but there was an implication that made you run for the hills. 
You couldn't do anything for him - give him anything. The last five years had consisted of running and trying to start over. 
Besides, after the Accords, in the government's eyes you were just as fucked as Hydra. An ally turned fugitive the moment you’d chosen your side in that airport. You’d fight with yourself most nights that you decided with your head, but your first evening with a man who had bruised your lips with promises of what would come may have had more pull than anything else. 
The same man that had called you every week for the past six months… The same man you had spent countless nights with, years of your life you would never be able to scrub away, no matter how hard you tried. 
You had watched from afar as half of the world returned, their loved ones welcoming them home with teary eyes and broken hearts. You watched as he came home. His eyes, always scanning the crowds waiting for you. Waiting to see your face. 
It made all of this so, so much worse. This was definitely not the homecoming you could have hoped for. 
“We’re nearing the drop.” Your comm’s rang with a woman's voice who had helped smuggle you onto the craft. You weren’t exactly welcome in europe at the moment- or anywhere for that matter. The government did not take lightly to your’s and Sharon’s betrayal. You’d think that after everything the world had seen they would be a little more forgiving, but you couldn't exactly blame them for their trust issues either. 
You could, however, blame yourself. 
As soon as your feet hit the ground you were off. The distress call had come from Sam earlier that evening and now with the sun setting you could only hope you weren't too late. You tried to push the man who had haunted your thoughts for the past few years out of your head, desperate to focus on the task at hand. 
Bullets exploded through the air, a warning as you were approaching the large shipping container unit. Your comms went static as they began to connect with Sam’s, his voice ringing through your ears as—
“Sam, a little help here!” 
His voice stopped you dead in your tracks. 
“I’m on my way - called in some back up.” Sam grunted as the sound of strangled yelps echoed around you. 
“Back up? Who do we know that-” Bucky’s words were cut short as he let out a growl, the sound of his vibranium arm whirling in the background. 
You rushed in without a second thought, the sound of his pain too raw as it ripped through your chest. Before you could assess the danger, you charged forward, hurling yourself at a large man pointing his gun right at- 
With a loud thud, the man hit the ground. Your combat boot, heavy on his throat until he went still, and with it came silence. It was deafening despite the explosive gunfire around you. 
“Y/n?” 
Your name ripped through the air, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Back turned and body rigid, you were frozen in place. Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue, soft and get so personal. Like no one had spoken it before. 
“Y/n, what are you-”
Sam's voice cut the newly cropped brunettes words off,  “I got two coming in on your left, Buck. Oh- and welcome back, Y/L/N.” 
You smiled sheepishly at Bucky, pulling your gun from its holster and flicking the safety off as you closed your distance with him. Despite the aggravation apparent on his face, a broken smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his lips. 
“Here we go again, huh?”  You chimed, your eyes locking with his just as all hell broke loose. 
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The trip back to Sam and Bucky’s base was one filled with uncomfortable silence, and a tension that had your blood running cold. 
Once the adrenaline of the fight had worn off and you were left face to face with Bucky Barnes, the guilt began to creep in. 
“So…” Sam started from the backseat of the beat-up truck, the suddenness of his words startling both you and Bucky for a moment. “Long time no see.” 
The scoff that left Bucky’s lips wasn't as subtle as you imagined he meant it to be. You tried not to let it bother you; in fact, you had prepared for this. How he might react when you finally returned home. What you weren't prepared for, however, was how indescribably gutted you would feel to watch him - eyes trained to the road ahead - as he gritted his teeth at your proximity. 
To say that yours and Bucky’s relationship before the snap was easy would be incredibly delusional. It was messy and at it’s best dysfunctional. But for whatever reason, the two of you looked beyond that. He saw through you like no one ever had and before you knew it, the two of you were glued at the hip. It didn't make sense, but no questions were ever asked. 
You just fit. 
And of course there was the sex. Good god, you could feel your thighs clenching at the thought. 
The way’s Bucky knew how to take you apart, with an accuracy that only he had. How he had your toes curling and body vibrating from the flick of his tongue. How he would have you screaming the most filthy things for him, all while begging to never ever—
“Y/n?” 
Sam’s voice was like an ice bath. Your name yanking you back into the present and the question at hand. What was the question again? You couldn't think straight. Not when Bucky was staring at you the way he was, one brow cocked and that same familiar smirk plastered on his lips. If you didn't know any better, you’d think he could read your thoughts. 
“Sorry- I… I was…” You couldn't seem to bring yourself back to this realm, too lost in the Super Soldier’s stormy eyes to remember what exactly you were trying to say. 
“He asked you where you’ve been, Y/n.” Bucky spoke your name like it was a curse, laced with razor sharp ache and pain. His eyes told a different story though. The way he looked at you; the same way he always did. 
With a warmth that only he had for you. It made you shiver. 
“Running, mostly.” You started, your body physically breaking your gaze with Bucky. It was too much, watching him glare down at you. And maybe you deserved it. 
“And you never thought to, I don't know, call me?” Bucky’s words were spiteful, oozing with a disdain that was beginning to wear down your patience. 
“It wasn't like that, Buck-”
“You can’t call me that anymore.” He snapped, his eyes trained on the road. Your gaze snapped to him, brow arched as you all but scoffed at him. 
“Oh, I can't?” You chuckled, but the sound came out flat. He had every right to ask you where you've been. Hell, get angry if he wanted. But the way his words seeped with disgust made your blood boil. 
“Okay, okay guys. Let’s all take a breath and just—”
“Shut up, Sam.” You both snarled, causing Sam to roll his eyes as Bucky pulled into a long winding driveway with a small log cabin sat at the end of it. You reached for your seatbelt until your door swung open. 
“You two figure your shit out. Whatever this is,” Sam motioned to the space between you two, “ isn’t leaving this car. I’ll be inside. Feel free to come in when y'all have killed and made up, okay?” With that, Sam slammed the door leaving Bucky and you alone in your static tension.
Bucky worried on his lip, his eyes trained to his lap. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words seemed caught in your throat. 
“You didn't even call…” 
It was so quiet, you almost didn't hear it. But you did… 
Voice small and so filled with ache; it kicked you in the stomach, the guilt washing away any anger you had felt. 
“Bucky… I- I couldn't.” You forced out, tentative as you met his gaze, stomach dropping as your eyes locked with his. 
“I thought I lost you. I thought - I mean, fuck - you were all I cared about.” He sighed, clearing his throat as if it would help ease his discomfort. “I looked for you, ya know?” He chuckled, but there was no warmth behind it. Just a brokenness that made you squirm. 
“It’s not your fault—”
“Oh, I know it’s not.” Bucky quipped, his eyes flicking away from yours and turning back to face the cabin. “It was your own selfish decision.” 
You scoffed, head snapping back to meet his glare. “Selfish? Bucky, I had no other choice. Not everyone can be pardoned for their crimes. It’s not like I had Steve Rogers advocating for my freedom!” 
Bucky only rolled his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, you swore he might rip it clean off the car.  “Don’t bring him into this. You don't think that I would have done everything to get to you? To clear your name?”
You laughed bitterly, blinking away the tears that welled at the corners of your eyes. 
“You gotta at least give me more credit than that, Doll.” The pet name rolled off this tongue easily, washing over you, and making you freeze. 
“Please don’t call me that…” You faltered, wiping away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek. 
It seemed the tension dissipated in that moment, silence heavy between you both as Bucky reached out, his flesh fingers finding a tear and brushing it away. You tried to speak, but with everything that had been said, and all that would never be, you decided words just weren’t enough. 
You didn't have time to object before his lips were on yours, your body moving at its own accord as he pulled you onto his lap, your thighs either side of him as his tongue swept across your bottom lip. You tried to moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound. He rendered you breathless, his taste intoxicating as you melted into his embrace, grinding into him and shivering when a familiar growl slipped from his lips; vibrating against your mouth. 
“Fuck, I missed you.” You moaned out, clutching his jacket as you licked down his neck. His skin was burning against your lips, the rumble of his breath heavy against your ear as he let out a dark chuckle, urging you on. 
“Well, if you had just called me—” 
Before he could finish the sentence, you reached for the recliner, snapping it forward as you toppled forwards onto Bucky’s chest. His words fell back into his throat, hands automatically finding your hips to steady you while you fumbled with his belt. 
“Doll—” He tried to start, but you swallowed the name with your kiss, heated and rooted in a desperate need to feel him again. You ached for him in a way you’d never felt before. 
Maybe what you had was unfixable. Maybe it was beyond repair, but with the way he was kissing you and hiking down your pants, it didn't matter. You were drunk on him, and by the way he bucked his hips, so was he. 
You shivered as his vibranium fingers looped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down over your legs as you both awkwardly tried to move in the cramped seat. You wanted to laugh, but as his cold thumb swiped through your slick folds, all you could do was whine. 
“So wet for me…” He hummed, teeth sinking into your throat as he pulled a whimper from your lips. 
You cursed, hands propping you up on either side of him as he dipped his index finger into you, the intrusion enough to have your back arching into him, desperate for more. 
But Bucky was a tease. And even now, after all of this time, it was the very thing that had your buckling above him. Pleading and begging for more.
“Look at you.” He started, his eyes dark as he pushed deeper inside, his finger curing into you as you gasped. 
“P-please, Buck.” You begged, grinding down onto his hand. To your dismay he only chuckled, watching intently as you came undone around him. 
“I told you,” He started, lifting you off of him and tossing you against the backseats, “Don’t call me that.” 
You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat as he awkwardly crawled towards you. But the look in his eyes had your stomach twisting into something that emulated fear. It was guttural as he pressed into you, the outline of his cock digging into your drenched folds.
You bit back a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as his cold fingers brushed against your core, pulling himself free from his boxers. 
“Do you still love me like you did?”  He spoke, and though the words were soft and filled with promises you had broken before, there was a darkness in his voice. 
“I never stopped.” You admitted. And it was true. But that didn't seem to be the answer he was looking for as he licked his bottom lip, eyes trained on your throat. 
“I’m afraid isn’t gonna’ feel much like love, doll.” He breathed out, lining himself up with your entrance. Before you could speak, he thrusted into you, knocking the air out of your chest as he bent you uncomfortably in half. You could only scream as he caged you in, forcing you down against the seats as he fucked into you. 
It’s not like you forgot how Bucky filled you, but his size was something you would never be able by to fully adjust to. Especially not now, when he was holding you steady, his hips snapping against you giving you no time to ease into the assault. And by the looks of the lopsided smirk plastered on his swollen lips, he knew exactly how shredded you felt. 
“Fuck, you take me so good, sweetheart.” The pet name doing nothing to quell the ache he sent ripping through your body as he sank deeper into you. You could only cry out, head smashing into the door as he kept up his brutal pace. 
“B-Bucky, please.” You weren't exactly sure what you were asking for, but at this rate you wouldn't last long, the familiar coil building in your abdomen as he nudged up against your cervix. 
“Slow down, baby.” You choked on a sob, eyes glassy as his vibranium fingers coiled around you thoat, pining you to the seats.  
“Did you miss this part, doll?” He whispered against your ear, a shiver ripping through your body and igniting a flame you had so desperately craved since the moment he vanished from your world. “Miss the way I ruin you, Hm? I can feel you, coming undone. You’re so close, aren’t you?” he teased, pressing his fingers deeper into your throat until you were coughing around the pressure. 
“All I need to do is-” His flesh thumb ran circles against your clit, your eyes rolling back into your skull as you croaked out his name, begging him to ease up. “There it is.” He chuckled, quickening his pace until you were a shivering mess beneath him. 
“Bucky, I-” 
“I’m going to ruin this cunt, sweetheart. Stay still, and let go for me” His voice was like gravel, only letting you breathe once you nodded your head in complicity, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth as the orgasm wrapped itself around your core. 
“Fuck.” You managed to scream, your head lulling back as a title-wave of ecstasy crashed over you, pulling you under.
“That’s my girl.” His words tipped you over the edge, his name on your lips like a prayer as you quivered, your body violently shaking. “God you're so tight when you- Shit!” 
With a few sloppy thrusts, Bucky came undone. His hot spend coating your pulsing walls as he gasped. Your bodies a tangled mess as he puffed out a breath against your neck. 
You both just stayed frozen, too afraid that the moment you pulled away, reality would sink in. And the truth was, you weren't exactly sure what that meant. 
Bucky slowly eased himself out of you, gasping a little as you spilled out onto, what you only hoped, would be easy to clean seats.
 “Doll, that was-” 
“Hey,” Sam knocked hard against the now foggy glass, “You two hungry, or what?” 
1K notes · View notes
loth-wolffe · 3 years
Note
HI LOVE, THIS IS ME ASKING NICELY FOR 39 WITH WOLFFE...it can be fluff or angst or nsfw hehehehehehehehe whatever ill love it anyways,, thank you!!!
A confession of a something he's not sure he heard
Pairing: Commander Wolffe x fem!reader
Prompt: 39. I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me. - Ivy by Frank Ocean
Word count: 1,7k
Warnings: uhhh, a lil (big) splash of smut so there's piv sex. minors stay bACk. also cockwarming hA. and one (1) sentence of dirty talking.
A/n: SO. ship requests drained me entirely and I was rip in peace so I decided to take a small break while I regain my strength. besides I saw s4ep5 for... reasons (*cough cough* wolffe) and wHO would've thought. that bitch got me into my wOLFFE feels. woah. commander how DARE you sir.
anyways, this is for you, anna my darling. hope you like it mwah.
He's been back for three rotations now, and even though it's like it always has been, you still feel like tiptoeing over eggshells.
Wolffe hasn't said it back yet, and it's not like you said it for him to confess it back to you, but with every hour that passes your heart broke at the thought of him not feeling the same, but at the same time, there's no sign of him not doing anything that isn't loving you.
He kisses you the same, with a fervour that makes your legs weak, touches linger more than you could expect as he worships your body, tongue leaves a wet trail as he goes down on you, relishing your skin as if he has never tasted it. And bites hard, nips gently, and sucks with a delirious eagerness every part of your body that he can find. He marks you, as if to claim something, maybe the unspoken feeling from his side of the wall you have tried to break down ever since meeting him, maybe he tries to hold on to the words you did spoke and he refuses for them to settle in his heart because there's the possibility of being scared of the unknown.
A step further into a commitment he might not be ready for just yet.
But that's not the case, though, you can feel it in your bones as you remember how it was him the one that asked if he could stay the night that first time you two enveloped in a warmth of sweat and ecstasy, and it was him the one that invited himself over every time he was around until your home eventually became his too.
It was him, the one that always took that step towards you.
Until now.
Uncertainty molds your body with every breath you take, and you want to say it again because there's there's the chance that he didn't hear you, the words always ready to leave as they wait in the back of your throat for you to push them out and into his arms.
But when is a good time, if it wasn't when you first admit them out loud? Is it as he comes home and kisses you breathless? Or could it be as he steps out of the shower?
Could you tell him when he's between you, with your legs on his shoulders as he acts on those same words and brings you to a quivering edge where all you know it's his name, a trance where all you can think is him, his mouth on you, and the feeling he brings; would it be appropriate then?
As you disregard the doubt that hammers your mind, you tell yourself it's better if you wait for when he's gone again and maybe then, –during one those calls where he's just a holo in your room, a blue image of him that you could break through with your hand if you reach out to touch him– then, you call him out on his lack of response, and if, when, you make a fool of yourself, you can always end the call before Wolffe sees the feelings he brings with his rejection.
It's a safe ground, when you're away from each other, to make silly confessions and admit your deepest secrets, a nonjudgmental space that can hold the embarrassment for you as it dissipates for the next time you look into his eyes.
Yet, it's in the afterglow of a goodbye he breaks the invisible emotional barrier that had settled between yourselves during the last few days.
It's him, again, the one that takes the step towards you.
Wolffe kisses you softly, tasting the sweat of your skin as the two bask in the blissful moments after you have reached your highs. The silence is cut by the occasional sounds of your mouths meeting, and it could've been minutes, it could've been hours of you just like this, feeling the other for what it might be the last time in months.
You sigh into his mouth when he settles better above you, feeling his length awakening once more inside you. He moves slowly, deliberate, and it's in times like these that you wish to know what he's thinking.
It's when his mouth finds your chest that he speaks, lips over your skin to muffle the words because there's no escape if you do hear them.
His voice is hoarse and his breath is warm as they not only hit the skin of your breast but also the muscle that beats for him.
"I love you."
You hear it as your fingers get lost in the dark curls, stopping the movement of your nails against the scalp, eyes snapping open and you find him looking straight at you and into your soul, trying to find something, anything, that lets him know he's not alone in this.
"What?" your voice is a thread, barely a whisper as you can hear the thump of your heart loud in your chest, he must've heard it too, as he kisses the surface of the place that holds it between your ribcages.
"Thought I was dreaming when you said it," he whispers as he makes a path of kisses from your sternum to your jaw, your breath gets caught in your throat and his lips ghost on yours, "but even if that's true, it doesn't change the fact that I do."
His mouth is hot against yours, and your walls flutter with him still inside, dragging a groan that you happily drink from his lips.
"Why did you wait to tell me?"
But you know why. For the same reason you them held back and ended up choking on the words.
"Why haven't you told me?" his words pierce through you like a knife, and you open your mouth to confess your excuse but it gets stuck before it rolls off your tongue.
You have.
Days ago, you did. In a rushed conversation where he told you he was coming home the next day, before he had to go, as darkness covered the sky and you looked up trying to find him in the vast ocean of planets and stars even though it was impossible for you to do so. You had told him right after he said goodbye, weakly, scared he might not return to you, but you had told him, in a whisper, in the safeness of your side of the line,
"I love you, be safe."
And it's until now that you're sure he heard, it took him a few seconds for the call to finally end.
"I did." Is all you say.
Wolffe smirks and leans down to suck the conjunction where your jaw meets your neck.
"Why not say it again?" He's teasing you, you know it, but it's the need of reassurance in his voice that stirs something in your stomach, a pang of guilt, perhaps, because you're taking too long, and maybe it's because you know how it feels that you don't want to drag it any longer.
"I love you."
He hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and if it weren't for the smile on his own you would've believed his next words came from a different place.
"You're just saying that."
You shake your head, your refutation leaves in a little sound because you can't seem to think of anything else to say, not when he leaves open mouthed kisses in your skin, it is when his tongue meets the perky flesh of your nipple that you let out a breathy, "I'm not."
"Is it because I'm still balls deep inside you?"
You could cry, because he's making it hard for you when it should be the other way around; you should be the one showing no mercy because it was him the one who delayed his answer for three days instead of a second.
But you don't find it in you to tell him to stop, either. Always at his mercy.
And the way he says it, how he says it, sends a wave of arousal down to were you're intertwined, you feel him twitch inside you and only him can turn a soft moment like this, an admission such as the one you're letting on, into something lustful enough that drowns the affection that drips from his eyes.
"Wolffe, I–"
But whatever you were going to say is cut off by the thrust he gives, deep and slow and you can feel him whole, the remnants of his last orgasm lubricating the two of you and he pulls back all the way to the tip before he slips back in with a squelching sound, toes curling at the feeling of him moving again and he grunts in your ear.
You moan, not knowing what else to do as you hold him by his shoulders, nails digging on his skin as you feel your body rock with the intensity of each thrust, needing something to anchor you and keep you grounded while you try to keep up with a conversation that happens between your eyes.
"Say it." It's the need in his tone that makes you tell him with an urgency you hope that matches the one in his eyes.
"I love you."
He growls, low but powerful enough that it rumbles in his chest, and his teeth take your lobe as he pulls lightly from it. Another thrust of his hips makes you cry out.
"Again." Wolffe demands, and you realize that it's for him to not forget, to hold on to the words the best he can, and it's all because he doesn't want, he refuses, to spend another day with his own doubts.
He wants to make sure he heard them right this time.
And it's between cries and sighs and moans that you repeat it until it's only a breathy chant that falls from your lips as you reach that peek he knows how to push you towards in the most perfect way.
And it's not until he's back on that soft side that only shines in the aftertaste of it all that he says them again, as his lips caress the bruised skin once more and his hands massage the marks on your hips. It's in a light voice and with warmth clouding his eyes that he makes you know he feels just the same.
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mackenzielovee · 3 years
Note
blurb 3 & 4 with rafe? maybe angsty but with a fluffy ending :) 💕
a/n: helloooo my love. I made this a little longer than I hoped but i hope you love it anyway. thank you for the request! <3
warnings: swearing, blood
my writing
none of your business - rafe cameron
Two o'clock in the morning.
That's what time Rafe Cameron decides to beat on the front door of the guest house, knowing he's going to wake you but not necessarily caring. You rub the sleep from your eyes and curse the floor for being so cold under your bare feet as you yank the door open, ready to kill whoever stood on the other end.
"Rafe," you groan when you see him. He notes your expression change when you take in his appearance.
His eyes are red all around, one of them starting to bruise underneath. You can see lines from tears that have since dried resting on his cheeks, which are now mixed with the blood seeping from the cuts on his face. Your eyes trail down his body to his ripped shirt and his bloody knuckles, making you sigh loudly. Your shoulders relax from their tense position as you know you can't be mad at him anymore.
"Are you gonna let me in, or?" he questions.
You've been staying with the Cameron's for a while now.  Since you've moved onto the property, you and Rafe haven't exactly been getting along. Which only adds to you confusion as to why he's come to you.
You sigh and hold the door open wider for him to enter, not necessarily inviting him inside. You watch as he looks at you emotionless, only for a second, before entering.
"Why are you here?" you ask as you follow him to the kitchen.
He starts opening and closing random cabinets, clearly not finding whatever it is he's looking for. He completely ignores you, which only adds to your annoyance.
"Rafe?" you grumble, staring at him so intently you could probably burn a hole in the side of his head.
He barely glances over at you, looking at you more as if you're a nuisance than a help.
"Do you not have, like, band-aids and shit?" he asks, digging through one of the drawers and then slamming it shut when it doesn't contain what he wants.
"In the bathroom."
He stands up straight and rolls his eyes, then finally looks over at you. He notes the sleepy look in your eyes and how cute you look in your little matching pajama set, paying extra attention to your little shorts lingering a little too high on your legs.
"Can you help me?" he asks, his voice a little softer than before.
You nod, surprised at his question, then point to your bathroom as if he doesn't know where it is. He walks in front of you and enters the bathroom first, pulling off his ripped and bloody shirt the second he enters. He throws it on the floor, not particularly caring where it lands. You sigh and he smirks, knowing he's achieved his goal of annoying the shit out of you every chance he gets.
You pull out your first-aid kit, ready to fix him up and stop the bleeding from his knuckles. You wet a washcloth and reach out, waiting on him to give you his hand.
"Sorry about the blood," he smirks as he lightly places his hand in yours.
You roll your eyes, "Consider this my rent payment for the month."
"Nah," he shakes his head.
"What even happened?" you ask, focusing on cleaning and not bothering to look up at him.
"None of your fucking business."
You sigh, reaching down and dabbing rubbing alcohol on your washcloth. You don't bother to warn Rafe before you press it to his open wounds on his knuckles.
"Fuck!" he swears, yanking his hand away, "Jesus."
"Sorry," you shrug absentmindedly.
You pretend not to notice his little sarcastic laugh as he figures out that you did it on purpose, then ignore the way he slaps his hand back in yours. You start cleaning again, but decide to be more gentle this time. Rafe takes a small step toward you, then another, making you look up at him. The look in his eyes is different - almost like he's up to something.
"You think that's funny?" he whispers, leaning his head down so he's level with you.
"I didn't mean to," you swallow, completely intoxicated with his scent as it wafts over you.
He brings his good hand up to tip your chin so you're looking up at him now. You've never found Rafe attractive, but something about how his voice got low and raspy, the way he smells, and the fact that you're exhausted have you completely wrapped around his finger.
"Mhm," he hums, smirking slightly, "How about.."
He trails off, bringing his head back down to you again. Just as your lips are about to touch, he speaks again.
"How about you fucking clean me up, or I'll make sure you're out of here permanently by tomorrow."
You pull away from him quickly, ducking your head to hide your rosy cheeks from him. He laughs, but can't help but feel bad when he sees how embarrassed you are. He sets his other hand on the counter, then lifts it up again, leaving blood on your white countertops.
"You're getting blood everywhere," you say quietly, still trying to shake off what had just happened.
"I said I was fucking sorry, sweetheart," his voice is raspy again, making you weak at the knees.
You finish cleaning him up in silence, trying to pretend like he hadn't really gotten to you. By the end of it, Rafe really feels guilty, but he's not sure how to fix it. He really had no idea you'd even let him go that far.
"There," you say when you're done, "You know the way out."
You start to leave the bathroom, gasping when Rafe grabs onto your wrist and spins you back around to face him. His expression holds the same one it did when he asked you to help him clean up - soft and sweet.
"Hey," he says quietly, "I'm sorry about before. I was just messing with you."
You shrug, pretending like it didn't bother you. He groans internally, mad that you're making him work for it.
"Do you think," he pauses, slowly bringing his hand down to your own, "I could stay the night? Dad will kick my ass if he sees."
You want to point out that his wounds won't heal overnight, but you also don't really want him to leave. Something about him staying the night excites you.
"Couch is free," you shrug again.
He tugs you even closer to him, using his had hand to reach up and stroke the skin on your cheek. You stop breathing, you swear you do, as he touches you. His skin feels hot against your own.
"I don't sleep on couches," he says quietly, leaning down and pressing his lips to your jaw.
You moan lightly at the feeling, trying to remember how to breathe.
"Rafe."
"Hmm?"
"Rafe."
"What, princess?" he laughs lightly as he pulls his lips off you to see what you need.
"What are you doing?" you finally ask, still feeling like you're on fire.
"Isn't it obvious?" he asks, and when you just stare, he continues, "I'm just trying to get into your bed."
Your heart sinks as you sigh and try to pull out of his grip. He laughs lightly, tightening around your hand.
"No. No, baby. I'm joking. I'm just kidding."
You huff and turn back to him, but refuse to look him in the eye. You really can't tell with him anymore.
"Honestly?" he says after a minute, his voice soft once again, "I really just want to cuddle with you."
You finally allow yourself to look up at him, trying to determine if he's serious. He looks different, more vulnerable than usual. He can tell by the look on your face that you really don't want to play games with him anymore, so to show you he's serious, he leans down and presses his lips to yours.
He tastes salty, probably a result of the tears that fell down his face earlier. You sink into the kiss and swear you could do it forever just as he pulls away.
"Please?"
"Yeah, okay," you nod, watching him smile victoriously.
He leads you to your bedroom, the one you had been alone in only half an hour ago, and only releases your hand to remove his jeans. He throws them on the floor and crawls under your covers, holding his arms open for you.
You sink in beside him and you two quickly mold into one another. The fit is perfect. His arm around you, your head on his chest, other hand stroking gently through your hair.
"I've been thinking about this for a while," he admits.
"Really?"
"Yeah," he says, then after a minute, "Stay here as long as you want. It's nice having you here."
You smile against his chest. After a few minutes, you feel him stop the stroking of your hair, then soft snores coming from above you. You fall asleep only a few minutes after him, way more content with him than you had been sleeping alone.
blurb list here! please send requests to my ask box!
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retroellie · 3 years
Note
Farm. Ellie. Making. You. Squirt. 👀 👀👀AAaRAghg now I NEED a whole fic for that!!!! For the sake of my sanity pretty pretty pleaseeeee 😩🙏🏼
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Summary: Ellie finding scandalous polaroid's of you before finding out what she can do to you :)
A/N: Thanks for the ask<3 it was a bit rushed but i tried, theres so many asks to do so plz bear with me lol. Also i did research for this one cause idk much about this subject so be proud of me ASHAH
Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, fingering, cunniligus
Word count: 3.2K
She didn’t know what happened, one minute she was listening to Joel strum his guitar, wondering when the hoard will pass so she can finally be with you again. Then the next minute she was looking down a scandalous picture of you, gripping the paper so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
She was digging through her backpack when a piece of paper fell out of it. The paper was folded neatly, the words “For ellie<3″ standing out. Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, not quite sure who had put it in there but there was only one way to find out. She picked it up, it was heavier than it looked.
She opened it up and something fell out of the folded paper onto the ground. She looked down towards the floor to see 5 polaroids scattered, she was even more confused. She picked one up and examined it.
It was a picture of you and her, you two were on her bed. You had a huge smile on your face as ellies lips were on your cheek. Her arms were draped across your stomach lazyly, Ellie smiled. She remembered that day so well, you both were sick with colds and you both stayed in bed all day with each other watching old 80s movies.
The next one she didn’t recognize. You were in her bed once again, you were laying on your back with the camera pointed at your chest. You had a small tank top on which didn’t leave too much to ellies imagination. Your neck and chest were covered in hickeys, the dark shade complementing your lips.
The next was even more scandalous. You were in the mirror with only a set of back lacy underwear Ellie had gotten you on one of her trips. Your hand was over your boobs, covering them up so she couldn’t see them. She could see marks on your waist, finger prints from her. It was evident she had once been in the room with you, judging by your puffy lips and sweat drenched body.
The last one made her heart drop and the blood from her face drain. You were on her bed once again, you were topless. Your hair was draped over your boobs and your legs were spread slightly allowing her to see a small sliver of all of you. One hand was on your hip and the other was placed on your chest, right above your boob.
She looked down at the paper and saw sloppy writing on it, she didn’t hesitate in ripping it open and reading it.
Dear ellie,
I thought you were gonna miss me so i decided to have a photo shoot just for you<3 I hope you like them, I'm no model but I thought having these would make you miss me less. (or to show what your missing, don’t want you running off with another girl)
I miss you like crazy and you haven’t even left now, but by the time you're reading this I know I'll be missing you :(. Please be safe and don’t die, I don't want some asshole getting these pictures off your dead body. Oh and I'll miss you when you're dead of course:)
Anyway, please be safe baby and come back to me. I can’t wait to be ruined when you get back, Muah muah
Love,
Y/n XOXO
Her jaw tensed up, her hand grabbing the paper tightly. She tried everything to stop the thoughts of ruining you from running through her head, she couldn’t do anything about it either. She only had these pictures of you, she couldn’t touch you or be touched. The frustration was really getting to her.
She was pulled back to reality by Joel strumming the strings of his guitar.She shoved the pictures into her backpack hoping Joel didn’t see them. She let out a loud sigh, trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t wait to get home, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She knew this was gonna be a long trip.
-
-
The next couple days were hell for ellie. She couldn’t get her mind off the pictures and she couldn’t get off either. She didn’t get much alone time thanks to Tommy and Joel so all the frustration was building up. She couldn’t sleep sometimes, she was so touch starved it interrupted her dreams
When they finally arrived at Jackson she didn’t hesitate in running to her house, knowing you’d be there. With a couple welcome backs and half assed replies from Ellie, she finally arrived at her garage. She slowly opened the door, being greeted with warmth and the smell of your perfume.
Her room hadn’t changed much, there was still clutter of books and you were on her bed with little clothes on. When you heard the door open your head perked up, your eyes leaving the book you were reading. You gave her a big smile before throwing your legs over the bedside, running over to her.
You wrapped your arms around her neck, bringing her into a deep kiss. You guys had been away from each other for a bit. You hated when Ellie went out on trips like these, trips that took days to come back from. You never knew when she’d be back or if she’d be back.
Her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you unbelievably close to her. You both basked in the warmth, your hands running through her auburn locks. She felt the most relaxed she had in days, feeling so close to you made her feel safe.
"I missed you..." You said while pulling away from her.
Her eyes had gotten a bit darker, almost now dulled completely. You thought it was because of the long trip she just had but Ellie had other things on her mind. The tourture your little photoshoot put her through, the hunger she felt it was enough to make anyone snap. she thought it couldn't get worse but when she walked in on you with just a shirt on and some cute panties, that was the cherry on top.
"Don't act all cute...." Her voice was thick with dominance, maybe the most you've ever heard. " 'i can't wait to get ruined when you get back'' ' She recited from your letter
She had read the letter so many times she could speak it all without the paper. The words haunted her and she was going to make sure you were ruined by the end of it. You looked speechless, like you hadn't any idea what she was talking about.
The innocent look in your eye made her hands shake and her mind wonder to all that she could do to you while that innocent look was still there, how far could she push you until you broke? She grabbed a fist full of your hair, forcing you to look into her dull eyes.
She pulled you into a deep kiss, hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place and the other one wrapping around your waist. You let out a small whimper, surprised by how fast it happened. Your muscles then relax, your head dizzy.
You hadn’t been touched, neither of you did so you both were touch starved. You brought your hands up to grab at her. Her hair, her neck, her chest you grabbed at everything. Her hand wandered down to your ass that was only covered by lacy underwear, giving it a squeeze. You moaned into the kiss, allowing her to move her tongue into your mouth.
The sudden affection made your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head. She noticed this, watching as you became a moaning mess just by kissing. She took this as a sign to get you on the bed so she took a step forward, hinting at you to walk to the bed.
You started to walk backwards, your lips still on hers. You reached the bed, falling back on it. You pulled Ellie closer and closer to you, legs around her waist wanting more of her. She pulled a way for a split second just to pull her backpack and shirt off, not wanting to waste precious time she could spend in between your sweet little thighs.
You eagerly watched her, face heating up causing a soft red glow on your face. Her shirt trailed up her body, revealing more and more of her. She was only in a sports bra and a pair of jeans when she finally got her shirt off. You bit your lip at the sight, seeing how her nipples could be seen from underneath her sports bra.
When you drew your attention back to her, you saw her giving you a stern look. You could tell she was waiting for you to also take your shirt off, you gave a small giggle at how distracted you were before pulling your shirt off as well. The cold air hit your bare chest, making you shiver underneath her grasp
Ellie’s breath hitched, watching as your chest rose up and down. You looked like an angel to her, your hair sprawled out on the bed, only in a pair of lacy underwear, soft thighs around her waist. How can someone so angelic do something so dirty?
Ellie ran one of her cold hands up your stomach, enjoying the softness of your skin. You reacted to her touch with a small whimper, Goosebumps rising on your skin. She admired every scar and bump on your skin, loving how it looked on your skin. She reached your boobs, placing her hand on top of one. She bent down to place small kisses on your chest.
“I missed these.” She said between kisses.
You giggled, watching her every move. You moved a hand up to her hair, running your hand through it as she kissing and sucked on your skin. You let moans and groans fall off from your lips. She backed them, they encouraged her to do more. She regularly wanted to taste you so her kisses made their way down your neck, down your breast, down your stomach and finally to your lacy pair of underwear.
She placed small kisses on the inside of your thighs, watching you squirm. You watched her every move with wide eyes, she looked up at you nipping at your thighs. She kissed up your thigh until she reached your underwear.
She hooked her fingers on the sides of your underwear and slowly pulled them down, coming face to face with all of you. She slid your underwear off and threw them somewhere in the room. She looked up at you and then back at your thighs.
“Your soaked baby,” she said, breaking the silence.
You just bit your lip, a bit embarrassed about how your cunt was dripping onto your bed sheets. You couldn't help it, Ellie made you feel things no one else has. She noticed your embarrassment.
"Let me guess." She said, sliding a finger up and down your cunt. "You touched yourself to the thought of me, every. single. night while i was gone.
She swiped up and down your cunt a few more times before shoving two fingers inside you. You threw your head back, only ellies long slim fingers could reach that one place inside you that made your toes curl and she hit it every. single. time.
"What'd you think about huh?" She said, planting another sweet little kiss on your thigh.
you didn't respond, more like you couldn't respond. She curled her fingers, just grazing you g-spot. She chuckled up at you, leading her kissing up and up. She was promised to ruin you and she was going too.
"Was it me fucking you with the strap, you hands tied to the bed post while i thrust in and out.." Her fingers forcefully shoving in and out of you harshly to accentuate her words. "of your sweet little cunt."
You let out a high pitched moan in response to those harsh thrusts, making you see stars. She grinned, gripping onto your thigh roughly before licking up your cunt as if she was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.
She scissored her fingers inside of you, not going too fast but deep and rough. the sinful sound of her fingers working in and out of your cunt filled the room along with your sweet moans. She licked you one last time, lapping up your juices before savoring the way you tasted.
"or was it just like this?" She asked once again, fully aware of you too lost in the pleasure to answer her. "My head in between your thighs, fucking you with my tongue and fingers while you sit back looking all cute."
She was right to say the least, you did run your hand down your body at night while thinking about her. You thought about it all, every position, every toy you had, every single dirty thing you thought about while fucking yourself until you were too tired to stay awake.
Your hands gripped onto the sheets, your knuckles turning yellow. A thin sheet of sweat was developing along your flushed body. Ellie's fingers got faster, curling and thrusting and then spreading apart before doing it over and over and over again. It was enough to make you cum right then and there if she asked.
"Your lucky baby..." she stated, looking up at you seeing you come apart. "I'm going to fuck you until you've made a pretty mess out of yourself and than i'm going to fuck you all over again."
Ellie's hand pushed your thigh all the way down to the bed, then returned to it to grip at it as she divided her tongue into your cunt. She started slow with her tongue but her fingers stayed the same pace , rough and fast.
Her tongue was so sudden it made you moan a little too loud for your liking. That didn't stop her but made her movement quicker, her fingers jabbing at your g-spot head on now. You were absolutely on fire, your skin felt hot and sticky.
You reached up to your boobs and grabbed at them, only maximizing the pleasure. Ellie licked circles on your clit, the sensitive bud sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You threw your head back, back arching and waist thrusting along with her fingers.
Her nails dug into your thighs flesh, leaving small moon shapes there. Your moans became louder and at this point you didnt care if anyone heard, right now the only thing you cared about was Ellie's mouth on your aching cunt.
Ellie blew cool air onto your cunt, making you jerk up to meet her mouth. She chuckled at your neediness before giving you what you wanted, her mouth. There was no point in teasing you now and she obviously wasn't done punishing you.
Her tongue sped up, lapping at your cunt and really focusing on your clit. She added another finger, allowing her fingers to go deeper. Your hand gripped at her hair to grab it, thrusting your hips up faster and harder than before.
She couldn't get a good angle on your cunt so she took the hand that was on your thighs and brought it up to your waist to keep you down. You could feel your orgasm near but it felt different this time, your belly felt like it was on fire.... it didn't hurt it just felt different, a good difference?
Ellie added another finger, stretching you open. Her tongue was set and determined on your clit, the sensitive bud becoming overstimulated. You could no longer control your volume, you were basically screaming to the point ellie decided if she should stop or not. She didn't need more noise complaints.
Your body was already shaking violently, your stomach felt like it was on fire. This was terrifying how you felt but at the same time you didn't want it to stop. It felt so good and hurt in the best way possible.
Ellie didn't slow down but only sped up more and more until you let out a loud scream. The building knot in your stomach finally snapped and you were overcome with such ecstasy such pleasure, pure fucking light. It was all too much for you, your vision almost went and your hearing ceased for a split second.
From ellies point of view her fingers were soaked, along with her chest and face and even her jeans. She didn't know what was happening for a minute, her first thought was you had peed on her to be honest but after taking one look up at you she knew what had happened. You had squirted.... it had been something she had seen in an old porn tape she came across.
You felt far away from your own body, feeling only wetness on your lower half and after shock waves coming from your cunt. You came back to your body when your head was talking to you.
"Holy shit.... i didn't think i could do that..'' She admitted to you as your eyes fluttered open.
You looked over at her to see her completely soaked with your juices, you suddenly became embarrassed. You didn't know your body did did that, you didn' think it could do that. You closed your your sticky legs as best as you could.
"I'm sorry..." You said, sitting up slowly.
"No no.... It's okay!" Ellie laughed, pushing you slightly back down.
She laid on top of you, kissing you softly. She never wanted you to be ashamed of yourself even after doing something so fucking hot. She brushed your hair out of your face.
"That was a hot babe.... don't be sorry." She smiled.
You let out a sigh, honestly you were still slightly in shock and not yet fully conscious. You were sticky and sweaty, your bottom half tingling and drenched. Ellie's body on yours didn't make it any better but you were okay with that, you just wanted to be with her.
She could sense you not being all there by the way your eyes were still foggy. So she lifted herself off of you and made her way across the room to put on some music, trying to coax you back into your body again.
She went back to the bed and cuddled you up into a blanket before laying beside you, talking to you in a sweet and calm voice telling you all about her journey. She told you about the forest they traveled through and how she swore she saw fairies at one point. She just said anything to relax you and ground you.
"You're cute when you babble." You spoke, voice raspy from screaming.
"look who's back.." She joked, moving a hair from your face.
"That was intense..." You replied, you moved your hand up and down her arm before grabbing her hand in yours
"I know, they make it look so easy in porn." She said, making you perk up.
"Porn?!?!" You asked
You gave her a wide eyed look wanting to know the story behind her porn experience. She scoffed at your sudden interest and threw her hands up, regretting the decision to stay that.
"It was one time when I was 15.... I came across a tape!" She said, laughing at her stupid teenage self.
“Well i have to know the full story…”
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