#and I'd let her tell me that nobody will ever love me and I'd let her do her invasive checks of my body and I'd let her have those

[featherymainffins]

Family is clearly just prolonging my and my mother's misery by forcing me to text her on special occasions and send her gifts, which is giving her false hope that her only boxing bag might come back and endure whatever she decides to take out on it again.

[minus-plus-zer0]

He Hears You Talking About Him

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

Bakugou sat at his desk, his mood soured by the rain this morning. His classmates filed into the classroom early around him, but he paid them no mind. He rested his head on his hand, with his nose in his textbook.

But of course, his ears perked up when he heard your voice announcing your presence. You chatted animatedly with Ashido as you walked over to your desk, which happened to be right behind his. As you conversed with your friend, you passed by him and gave him a quick pat on the head, to which he briefly shared a tender glance with you.

But what he was even more interested in was what you were saying. Because he was starting to realize you were talking about him.

You set your backpack down at your desk. "And I gave him the nicest, sweetest, softest hugs! And he looked so pleased!"

"No way!" Ashido said, like the subject of their conversation wasn't within earshot. "Him? Pleased? Did you cast some sort of brainwashing spell on him?"

"No no no!" you whined. "I really mean it, he's the sweetest guy ever. He bought me flowers the other day because he knew I loved them. I've still got them in my dorm room next to my bed so I see them when I wake up every morning. And he looked so satisfied knowing I was taking good care of what he gave me. He's really not as bad as everyone says he is. He's kind, and loyal, and affectionate, and funny, and--"

"That better be me you're talking about," he said, without raising his head from his desk.

"Uh oh!" Ashido said, leaning on your desk. "Bakugou knows when he's being called out!"

"Shut. Up."

"Of course I'm talking about only you, Katsuki!" you said, poking him in the back with a pencil. "You are one of the best boyfriends I've ever had! Thank you so much for being so cute!"

Bakugou really tried to keep a sour expression fixed onto his face but it wasn't working. He wasn't really sure how to react, but he really enjoyed hearing everything you said. He honestly wasn't sure if he was bad boyfriend material or if his standards for himself were too high as you once suggested, but he always wanted to show you he loved you as much as you loved him and he needed you to know this regardless of how grouchy he seemed. Bakugou never wanted you to feel unloved just because he couldn't express himself properly. You, on the other hand, were much more open with your feelings. That was another thing he needed to surpass you on.

"Look! Look at your boyfriend!" Ashido lightly tugged on your arm. "You made him happy! I've never seen him that weird type of frustrated and happy!"

"Really?" You peered over at him, trying to see his face. "I hope you are happy, Katsuki!"

Bakugou felt terrible about not being able to respond to your affections in kind. He didn't like how you gave it away freely, yet nobody returned your affection at the same level.

Bakugou stood from his seat and then pulled you over by the arm.

"What are you--"

"Come here."

He kissed you for the first time in front of all your classmates. You had already both kissed in private, but his lips felt new and exciting when everybody watched. You could hear some gossiping in the far distance, but your mind tuned it out when his hands met your hair.

He let you go. He gazed upon you like you were the sweetest thing in his life.

"Dummy," he said. "Thank you."

He gave you a final kiss on the cheek and then returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened.

Ashido squealed and dragged you back over to her. "Oh my gosh! Why did he just kiss you? I've never seen him kiss anyone!"

"See?" you said. "What I'd tell you? He's very sweet! And he's my best friend! He also once told me I'm his first girlfriend and he's gonna treat me right. Isn't that so romantic?"

And so you and Ashido continued to jabber on about your boyfriend, who was still unfortunately within earshot. But Bakugou was determined to fully pay you back later for your sweetness, one way or another. He just needed to figure out how to outdo you once and for all.

Little did you know, you made his rainy day a whole lot better!

(Just needed to get some quick thoughts out of my head and onto a page for once)

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Tide

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Frankie Morales is capable of almost anything... except not cumming in his jeans when he thinks about you, the pretty clerk at the grocery store he always buys his giant jugs of laundry detergent at. Warnings: Smut thoughts, Frankie's POV and internal monologue, premature ejaculation, so much cum talk, addiction recovery, laundry detergent, this is so ridiculous but I also tried to make it super sweet. Words: 1,200

A/N: I'd probably classify this as a crack fic... but with heart. This is SOOOOO indulgent and ridiculous. I don't know what @luxurychristmaspudding unlocked in me but this is what's released. I know this is my *4th* story in a week, but I couldn't help myself. Also, shout out to the JM Discord and all of the tenants who join in the luxuriousness of this level of depravity.

Masterlist

🚁👖🤍Frankie🤍👖🚁

It keeps happening to Frankie over and over and over again. Recovery has been a challenge, abstaining from all of his previous vices means he’s no longer numbing his mind… and body. 

Nobody should ever cum during a prescription commercial and yet… he does. The swimsuit hugged the woman’s curves a little too close, plus she had the same color hair as you. His mind couldn’t help floating to thinking about you in a swimsuit.

Aye dios mio, get a hold of yourself man.

He’s too embarrassed to bring it up to his doctor. The notion of ever mentioning it to the Delta Force boys terrifies him, although he knows deep down they’d lend a sympathetic ear. They’ve killed, fought wars, and climbed out of the lowest points of their lives together… but the thought of letting his secret out? Awful. He shudders at the thought of telling his fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendees: “Hi, my name is Frankie, I’m an addict and I can’t stop cumming in my pants.”

He tries to think of the worst things, mental images that should scar even the scariest of humans, thoughts about death, rotting produce, weird looking insects, and yet, it still happens.

___

“Hi, how’d you find everything today?”

He blinks towards your tag though he’s already memorized your name, it repeats through his mind whenever he climaxes… he wonders to himself how your sweet voice would sound repeating his name. 

Uh oh, quick, think of a bee sting, everyone’s going to die, burnt pizza. 

He shakes his head, the thoughts of you wrapped around him flying out of his head with each subtle knock. 

“Sir, are you okay?”

Fuuuuuuck, you really had to call me sir, didn’t you?

“Y-yeah, sorry, long day. My name’s Frankie by the way.”

Focus, don’t look at how her hand wraps around the shampoo bottle, soldier. 

“Hi Frankie, nice to finally have a name to the face.”

Of course you say his name in the sweetest way. He presses his fingers into the flesh of his palm as hard as he can withstand, he prays you don’t see the way his nostrils flare.

Be strong.

He’s been captivated ever since he first saw you working in the mom and pop market across the street from his apartment. You’re always friendly and smiling, he swears he feels your eyes on him every time he leaves yet he’s too scared to look back and confirm for himself. He wishes he knew how to small talk and somehow step over the threshold of this case of shyness he has with you. 

Why bother? I’ll just end up disappointing you, never leaving you fulfilled. 

He’s so ashamed. 

“That’s a big bottle of detergent, you must do a lot of laundry. You have kids?” 

“I do… a four year old, but she lives with her mom,” he answers, lifting the giant jug into his cart, his cock twitches when he feels your eyes on his biceps. 

Stay cool, you can do this, you’ve literally overcome worse… and cummed over less.

He wonders if you notice just how much laundry soap he buys… he’s confident that you have no clue you're the only reason why his washing machine is constantly working overtime. 

“Oh, I love that age,” you mindlessly muse scanning a cereal box. “Is she as cute as her dad?”

His spine turns to jelly… he feels the phantom getting closer. 

Trash compactors, mom and dad’s divorce, elephant seals.

“Everyone says she has my eyes.”

“Then she must be,” you wink.

Not a wink, not a wink, not a goddamn wiiiiink. 

He quickly pulls his head down, sticking his card in the chip reader, resisting the urge to think of his now aching cock pushing into you. 

STOP. STOP. STOP THINKING FRANKIE.

Focusing on the pin pad breaks his spiral. Relief spreads through his tense body knowing this run in will be over soon, he can go home in peace, his pants surviving this moment.

Your fingers brush against his hand when you hand him the receipt, his favorite part of buying groceries. He’ll stand in your checkout lane no matter the size of the line for the split second of skin to skin contact. It’s all he can afford to let himself have, any more would surely stain his jeans. 

___

“Hey Frankie!” 

He turns at your voice, his breath hitching when you walk over to him while removing your name tag.

“Want to go next door and grab a drink?”

“I’d love to… but I, uh,” he lifts his hat nervously tussling his hair, “I’m in recovery.” 

“Oh,” your voice and face falter, “I’m sorry, um–”

Don’t let this moment pass, you can do it.

“I know a really good ice cream place, a few blocks down, I can meet you there?” 

Ice cream means licking. Frankie, you're an idiot.

“Oh, um, that sounds amazing but I don’t drive.”

“I can take you… if you’d like.” 

“Yeah?” your smile grows wider. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just need to drop these off, and then I’ll meet you outside in twenty?”

“Awesome!” You squeeze his hand wrapped around the cart handle. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Your touch scorches his skin, he blinks watching your ass sway while walking through the doors to the backroom. 

1-2-3, a gush of hot liquid releases against his jeans, his knuckles turn white as they clutch the cart handle.

Jesus Christ.

Frankie picks up his bags, holding them close to his crotch and leaves the grocery store. He better hurry. Thank god he just bought more detergent. 

___

In hindsight, he’s thankful for his little grocery store indiscretion. He’s carefree and relaxed as he falls even harder for you over chocolate sundaes. You ask for extra rainbow sprinkles and laugh at all of his jokes. 

This must be what it’s like to live normally.

___

“That’s me,” you point to a small bungalow unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ice cream Frankie."

“This was really fun,” he turns towards you, shocked at how close you’re leaning towards him. 

Kiss her. No, wait, don’t kiss her. Yeah, definitely don’t kiss her. 

“It was,” you lick your lips and lean even closer. 

He can smell you now, you smell divine. Like ice cream and floral perfume. 

You place a soft kiss against his lips and pull away.

Frankie’s body tenses, a pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, he spurts against the cotton of his briefs. Doe eyes rounded with embarrassment stare at you.

“Sorry,” whispers out of his downturned lips. 

“Oh,” your face fails at hiding a smile, “Frankie, it’s okay. Really.”

His head knocks against the headrest, face frozen in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Frankie,” your hand clasps his chin forcing him to look at you. “Honestly, it’s okay. It’s actually… kinda hot.”

Right then and there he knows he’ll never shop at another grocery store again. 

[lavender-spice]

an honest man

Tyler Owens x Reader

Lily reveals the truth about Tyler's night, leading to confrontation

warnings: cussing, angst, but fluff at the end!

"Tyler Owens!" you shout , storming into your motel room. The rusty door slams with a rough shake and a deafening clang. The entire floor probably felt the shake of it but you could care less. You were going to skin Tyler alive. You beeline to the bathroom door, hearing the shower running. "Tyler you open this door right fucking now." you demand, jiggling the locked doorknob.

"Y/N? What is it doll what's the matter?" his voice is laced with concern as you hear him stumble out of the shower. He cracks the door open, hair dripping wet, shower still running. His eyes are wide, startled at your fuming expression.

"Do you care to explain why Lily says you were out 'till 2 am drinking with Kate?" he looks at you, flabbergasted. "You said you were out with Boone."

"Baby I was with Boone 'till like midnight, I was with both of them. Lily headed in with you and those two hung around. Kate was just the last to call it a night. We were up chatting real late." he replies nonchalantly. You roll your eyes.

Ever since this Kate girl rolled in Tyler's been smothering her like she's a baby in need of a blanket. He coddles her, taking attention from you. Every other word is Kate, Kate, Kate. It's like he's not even chasing for the storm, it feels like an excuse to be around her.

"I don't believe a word you say Tyler. You weren't in bed 'till 5 am, and I thought you were coming from Boone's room. Now I hear that Kate told Lily you were out 'till 2 with her, so what happened between 2 and 5, Tyler?" you demand, your voice growing angrier with each word. He sighs, stepping back.

"Can I at least finish my shower first?" he pleads. You scoff, letting go of the door. "You can go lick her boots Tyler. I'm sick of this." you storm off, leaving the room with a huff. You walk mindlessly until you reach the bar you were at last night.

You push the doors open and sit down at one of the rickety stools, ordering a Coors. And another, and another, until you're properly tipsy enough to not give a shit about where your fiancé may be. All you do is take down beer after beer, your empty stomach churning at the bubbly alcohol, your eyes getting wet each time they meet with the glistening stone on your left finger.

Tyler was a perfect man, a perfect partner. He understood you, he took care of you, and all of the sudden that's all tossed out the second some new city girl shows up. Even Lily noticed the shift in behavior. It was uncharacteristic, and no matter how mad you were, you just wanted Tyler back to being completely yours.

About two hours and a half pass by of you just wallowing in your own pity- even the bartender was shooting you looks every time you ordered another drink. By number 5, he tells you to cool down and has you close out. By then Tyler is also meandering towards you.

"Baby." he says. You don't look at him. "Y/N. Darlin' look at me."

You still refuse.

"I didn't sleep with Kate, or do whatever you think I did. I was talking to her about her accident. She had an accident years ago with an experiment gone wrong that killed her friends- we were unpacking it. We were getting to know each other. She was wanting to get to know you, too. I know it sounds bad, I know it looks even worse, but baby you have to believe me." he's begging at this point, shakily placing his hand over yours. "You're the only woman for me. The only person for me, the only one I could ever love. I can't look at nobody else the way I look at you. You mean everything to me. I'd let a tornado rip me away if it meant you could be happy forever. I never want to see you like this, especially if it's my fault. I just want to make this right honey."

Tears stream down your face. He sounds genuine, and you know he means it too. You finally turn your head, locking eyes. He's sorrowful, wiping your tears.

"Can you find it in you to forgive me?" you don't hesitate to nod. He leans over to kiss you, before outstretching his hand. "Let's get you to bed alright?" you let him lead you back to the room, feeling warm from the beer, and the affection he's showing you. This, this was your Tyler. The man you were going to marry. The caring soul you'd fallen for all those years ago.

He helps you change and tucks you into bed, kissing you earnestly. He murmurs sweet nothings into your hair as you breathe him in, drifting to sleep, secure in his arms.

[queers-gambit]

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

[ part one of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[salliesimpkins]

“I like you a lot”

Isaac lahey x fem!Reader

TW: Smut, oral (fem receiving), use of pet names, claws, nipple play

+16 read at your own risk. I’m not your mommy A/N: first smut to write + english isn’t my first lang word count: 2.5K

You were at school, leaning against your locker. smiling at and laughing with Stiles, until you caught Isaac glaring at you across the hall, visibly upset.

"alright Stiles I've got to go now, I'll see ya" you walked away after Stiles nodded and walked to Scott, and you made your way to Isaac.

"hey" you flashed him a smile and he blushed. How could he not? he thought you were the most beautiful thing ever.

The beta glanced over Stiles before turning back to you. "hey.." he spoke softly.

"Just tired... I uhh, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately" he said slowly and softly, not wanting to ruin this moment between you two.

You nodded slowly, feeling bad for him. "well you know, you can always talk to me" you said softly, reassuring him that he's got someone by his side.

You watched him closely as he looked at you quietly, and you didn't want to rush him to speak, you knew how sensitive Isaac is. It made him feel pathetic when he opened up to anyone or asked for help, that's what his dad has taught him. That a man is a man, boys don't cry, but Isaac knew you, he loved you, trusted you, and he knew your listen and get him anytime.

"I've just been going back.. thinking about my family" He looked down as his expression softened.

"oh" you whispered softly and placed your hand on the boy's back, rubbing it gently. "I know you've suffered from your dad your whole life, but his death Isn’t your fault".

Isaac flinched, but he didn't move away from you. Even though your gesture was tiny, it felt huge to him, It made him on top of the world. He let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know... I just-" he paused, unsure if he can keep going or not, but he really counted on you, so he kept going. "I didn't even cry at the funeral and everyone thinks I don't care, that I was wishing the whole time i'd get rid of him, and the problem is.. it's true. I was relieved that he's dead"

"Honey listen to me" you took a step closer, placing both your hands on his shoulder. "your dad used to lock you in a freezer. that night.. that night he hurt you and you ran like any other night, because you didn't know what he would die" you then place your hand on isaac's cheek, caressing it softly "you were just scared, you did nothing wrong"

Isaac paused for a moment and leaned into your touched as he shivered. The relief he felt when his father died was a burden to him, but he knew you were saying the truth so he bit his lip thoughtfully. He wanted to say that your hand felt to right on his skin, but he didn't and rubbed his face with his hand then looked at you hesitantly as he spoke. "I- Iwas scared" his voice trembled as he stammered softly, making you unsure if he meant you to hear him. he slowly smiled at you softly and leaned into your touch again, causing his breath to hitch.

you sighed softly as you try to build up some courage and confidence to ask him to go out with you, but you were too scared that he'd turn you down so you just looked quietly at the ground until you heard a familiar 5 taps on the locker next to you and looked to the direction to see lydia. She must have noticed your flustered face because she tilted her head at Isaac and winked at you. You two have been talking about it and she was eager for you to confess to him, and apparently she was so sure Isaac wouldn't let you down for a reason she wouldn't tell.

you snapped out of my trance as Isaac cleared his throat and looked at the same direction you were just looking at, except there was nobody there.

"sorry about that. I was just wondering if you would want to go home with me? I mean-" You paused and took a deep breath. "why don't you come over and we can just.. relax?" you asked nervously as he just looked at you quietly. "Scott's sneaking out with Allison again and our mom won't be home until ten.. so I was thinking if you'd want to just come over instead of staying alone or with Derek, he could be lame sometimes" I chuckle nervously and put on a fake confident grin.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment or two, taking in your words, and he thought there was no way he could turn that down, the thought of you and him alone in the house with no distractions. He knew he wanted it but he wasn't sure if you did. if you were just doing him a favour because you felt bad, but he decided to push his paranoia to the side and smiled at you softly with a blush on his cheek, nodding. "I'd like that, if you're okay with it"

"ahh perfect! we are gonna have so much fun! we can watch the notebook too if you want to, or maybe cook or play or just" you pause for a second or two, not wanting to creep Isaac out with your sudden excitement. "we could just.. chill you know?" You looked up at him with a smile.

The two of you walked to your house, as Stiles has already left with his jeep, and while you were walking you felt Isaac's hand brush against yours until he took it in, intertwining your fingers together. you could feel how his hand shakes softly and you knew his stomach was probably flipping, he was a nervous wreck.

You held his hand confidently the way home until you reached it and opened the front door for the two of you. After walking in, you turned to Isaac and smiles. "do you wanna stay in the living room, or go to my room? or we can even cook something!" you asked excitedly.

"Your room...?" He asked hesitantly. Your room was usually off limits, that's where you go to relax on your own, away from the pack. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to be there with you. But part of him knows it won't end at just being in your room. Not that he had a problem but that he was worried from Scott's reaction if he knew Isaac was in his sister's room alone in the house. Scott and Isaac were best friends and Isaac didn't want to risk it, but he still loved you.

you saw the look on isaac's face as he started to look overwhelmed, and more anxious than he was, so you decided to cool it down. "I mean it's okay but if you don't want to that's fine. we can sit in the living room" you shrugged, leaving the decision for him to make as you looked at his eyes.

Isaac nodded slowly, looking at your lips then your eyes. "your room" he said softly and carelessly. He wanted to be with you alone. he didn't care what scott would think, he didn't care what the whole pack would think, he only cared about you and being with you, he wanted you.

you smiled and tilted your head for him to follow you. you walked past Scott's room until you reached your room then you walked to the bed, After taking off your shoes, sitting on the bed, then patting on the space next to you for Isaac to sit on.

Isaac followed you to your room, closing his door behind him. His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to sit next to you and the only thing he could think of is how nervous he is. he looked at you and he thought you look so vulnerable, sitting alone waiting for him to join you, so he took a few steps, trying to regulate his breath before sitting next to you. He was so close and nervous, slowly turning his neck to look at you.

"so.. what would you like to do?" you asked softly, trying to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

Isaac looked at you and for the first time he has walked in the room, he didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss you and see what happened but he didn't want to make you pressured, and he didn't want to risk kissing Scott's sister, he was the leader of the pack, so he let the silence between you linger before he decided to break the ice.

"can I be honest with you?" he stressed.

"of course, I won't judge" i nodded in reassurance

Isaac struggles to speak so he leans closer to you. He just wants you to understand him, he needs you to know how he feels, what he's been thinking of, but it's hard for someone like him, someone whom emotions always were rejected. He took a deep breath and leaned closer as his eyes fluttered between your lips and eyes then he opened his mouth to speak but he failed so he looked one more time at you before smashing his lips on yours as he moved one hand on the back of your neck as the other ran over your back to your hips, pulling your whole body into his lap while you froze in shock before pulling him closer, cupping his cheeks while you kissed him back with the same amounts of passion.

After a few moments he pulls away, and looks at you in shock, he had expected everything other than you kissing him back.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have kissed you and if scott finds out he's gonna kill me and-" you cut him off pulling him in another kiss, slowly pushing him to lay down as you move on top of him.

"Scott doesn't have to know" you whispered pulling him in a deeper kiss that made him forget everything.

he was in a daze as he pulled away from you. "you look so beautiful when you kiss me like that" he said softly with a soft smirk that caused you to blush.

He smiled softly as he gently ran his fingers thorough your hair. "you're so beautiful you know? it's just so hard to focus on anything else when we are like that, when you're with me. We can take this as slow as you want"

you pulled him for a kiss in response, breaking it as you smiling against lips, and he moaned softly, slipping his hands under your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

"i want this. you. Right here, right now, But I also don't want to hurt you so tell me what you want, darling." he whisper in your ear as his breath hit your neck, causing you to shiver.

"i want you, please" you whined and pulled him into another kiss as your tongue begged for entrance in his mouth. he let out a soft involuntary moan, as his caresses on your back got faster. His tongue danced with your and he began to grind on you, making you feel the hard bulge in his jeans that rubbed your throbbing pussy, until you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, pushing him up by his chest, reaching to his shirt, playing with a soft fabric slowly. He sat up on his knees in front of you between your legs, taking off his shirt. You looked up at him, slowly placing the balm of your hand on his chest, tracing your finger over it to his stomach. He let out a low groan while he watched you trace your fingers over his chest, his muscles tensed under your touch.

"you're killing me honey" He whispered, moving closer to you as he kissed your neck slowly, then he sat up again as his hands found their way between your legs. Should undo your bra, or maybe start with these pants?" he teased, and sprung his claws out, moving them swiftly above you, tearing off your clothes.

"i loved that set" you pouted and he smirked

"i'll get you new ones" he pulled your clothes off your body, tossing them away on the floor with his shirt.

He smirked when he saw the blush on your face when you looked away, leaning down to your neck. "don't be shy baby" he whispered, before tracing kissed down your collarbone.

you moaned softly, moving your hands to caress his back softly and he let out a sigh against your skin. His hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly, kissing lower and lower. His kisses and nibbles reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling and sucking around it while he groped the other one with his hand, pinching the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

"I love you, so much" He showered your stomach with smooches and pecks, until his mouth found your slit, running his tongue through your wetness, humming in satisfaction. "so wet baby" he flicked your clit with his tongue as you struggled to answer him back, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled them gently. He took one of his hand, wrapping it around my waist to keep me down while he slid a finger in you with the other, slowly and gently, causing you to moan softly.

he sucked your clit harder making you pull his hair tightly, causing him to moan which vibrates against your pussy as his fingers go faster, feeling you clench around them, sucking them in. "Fuck Isaac" you whined. "i'm so close" you whispered, wondering if he even heard you, then he confirmed as he added a finger in, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you out as you pull his hair tighter. "Isaac!" you warned, and he understood as you reached your climax, coating his fingers with your cum while he kept his gaze on you then he pulled them out, lapping at your pussy hungrily, taking in your juices.

"you're so sweet baby" he moved up to kiss you as you taste your own arousal. He pulled away from the kiss and you bit your lip, panting for air and you moved your hand to his head, pulling him back down to kiss you, you couldn't get enough of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you guys liked this 🎀

[arachine]

૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ... i'd follow you anywhere .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x avatar! reader

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in which reader uses her new avatar body to finally show neteyam just how much she loves him… + based off of this thirst!

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), minimal angst (?), lots of fluff and banter lol

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, dacryphilia (v tame), corruption

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 2.5k

ᥫ᭡ note :: guys this is what happens when i ask for thirsts!!! i get carried away and never know when to stop ;(( anyway, here, have this while i work on my annual dick analysis for jake & quaritch.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Shh, you’ll see, kitty boy,” you giggled, tightening your grip on his wrist.

Neteyam shakes his head, tongue in cheek. He could never say no to you—not that he wanted to…he always wanted to play with you. He’d follow you into the depths of hell, or whatever the na’vi equivalent of hell was. Yeah, he’d follow you there, he thinks—definitely.  

The boy relinquishes all of his motor skills to you, allowing you to drag his body further into the forest. He mirrors all of your agile movements, jumping when you jump, running when you run—and then you come to a halt, turning around quickly to face him. You’re so close—too close, the sudden proximity disrupting his equilibrium.

“Don’t go falling for me now,” you grab his forearm before he can fall, pulling him back up with a wink. He scoffs at this, mumbling something sly under his breath. You were always so quick-witted, with quick reflexes to match, too. To anyone else, this would be annoying, but to him, they were your most admirable traits. It’s what made him fall for you.

“Ha, ha, can you tell me what we are doing all the way out here now?” he raises his hands, gesturing to the clearing that you were now standing in. You smile wildly, pursing your lips together in avoidance. The boy reaches behind you to pull your tail, tickling your sides until you surrender.

“Okay, okay, just s-stop it already,” you belt out, “I wanna show you somethin’…gotta be nice to get it, though.” He retracts his hands, letting them fall slowly to his sides. Just what were you planning?

Grabbing his hand this time, you usher him to follow you with a tilt of your head. You lead him to a tree surrounded by shrubbery, a spot that, up until now, only you were privy to its whereabouts. The perfect place for privacy.

Letting go of his hand, you push him down to sit on the forest floor, with his back resting against the bark of the tree and you nestled between his legs. His pulse quickens. What was so important that you needed to drag him so deep into the forest? In such a secluded place, nonetheless. 

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while,” you start, voice so low, just barely above a whisper. His eyes squint in confusion, but he remains silent—listening, as to not scare you from continuing. 

“You know, growing up in a shack with grown men…you hear a lot of things,” a silence, “things only men talk about.” Your eyes flitter to his, unmoving. 

“like, the things they missed doing on Earth, the girls they miss fucking—and what they’d do to have a woman’s lips wrapped their cocks…” The last bit comes out more hushed, gently kissing the shell of his ears. His tail reacts to you before he can, swishing in jagged movements, exposing his excitement. 

“Has anyone ever kissed you down there?” your eyes flit to his groin. 

He shakes his head eagerly, “No, I have n-never heard of this…nobody has ever…”

“Can I?” you tilt your head, flashing him your best doe-eyes. It was fun teasing him, a feeling that you’d never grow tired of. From first glance, to first introduction, you’d been bound at the hip since you could talk. Everything he did, you did, and vice versa. If you were feeling sick one day and couldn’t play, then shit, he was too. If you wanted to jump off a cliff one day, he’s jumping with you!

His loyalty to you was unyielding, grounding. And as the years passed, and the two of you transitioned from bright-eyed little kids to gangly, awkward teens on the cusp of adulthood, you started to realize something. That you wanted to be all of his firsts. 

Determinedly, you set out to do just that. On his thirteenth birthday, you kissed his cheek. A scintilla of your love, stained onto the expanse of his face that served as a mental reminder that this boy was yours—promised to you, and only you. 

Then, three more years passed. The boy with the rounded cheeks and toothy smile, had begun to change. It started out slow, though, then the differences became more gradual. 

The first to change was his face. What was once round and doughy, had now become slim and sharp. And then it was his physique. No longer was he the awkward child with gangly limbs, and a head too big for his body (as you liked to put it). No, he was much more…different. And each and every one of these changes, a testament to his inevitable journey into adulthood. 

On his sixteenth birthday, you kissed him. Once. But in that one kiss, you poured every ounce of love that you’d collected over the years. Every thought, every wish, every yearn, went right into that kiss—another piece of your heart that you carved just for him.  For him to have and hold, to keep safe. 

And when it was over, you pulled away with a smile, and a dagger of a tongue dipped in poison, ready to deliver heartbreak. 

You’re a man now, you uttered. I wanted to give my best friend his first kiss. And that was it, that was all it was ever going to be—because you were human, then. Still a weak, measly, little human who spent all her time living in a false reality, chasing something (someone) that could never really truly be promised to you. Not until you made the change.  

So, you waited. And…waited, and waited, and waited until one day you could meet his eye without having to look up, or for him to drop down. You waited until the day when you’d be recognized as his equal. 

Today was that day, on his twentieth birthday. And so you ask again. 

“Can I kiss you down here?” 

He nods. Once, twice, then stutters out an eager yes. Gently you smooth your palm up and over his knee, the skin of his thighs, and then stop beneath the fabric of his loin cloth. Your fingers trace the area teasingly, and you giggle when his hip juts up from the sensation. So sensitive. 

Slowly, you remove the cloth from his body, and take him into your hand. He’s semi-hard and leaking pre—and warm. So, so warm. You bring it up to your cheek, rubbing it against the area before turning your head to leave a zephyr-light kiss on his shaft. You kiss it once, then twice, then kiss it again for every year you spent not kissing him. 

“What are you doing?” he laughs, “Come on, it tick—hahhh.” A whine vacates from his throat upon you licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft, to the tip of his head. Naturally, his hands find solace atop of your head. 

“So dramatic, I didn’t even do anything yet.” This time, you take him into your mouth, forcing him to watch you as more and more of his length disappears into the cavern of your mouth. 

Technically, you’d never done this before (save for the few times you practiced on fruit) so it was your first time, just as much as it was his. But he didn’t have to know that. You wanted to appear like you knew what you were doing, or at the very least, like you’d done this before. You try to remember all the things you’ve heard over the years.

1) Girls who used teeth were bad, but girls who flattened their tongues and relaxed their throats were good. 

2) Girls who didn’t use spit sucked, but girls who got really messy were good fucks. 

3) Girls who didn’t play with balls were lazy, but girls who did knew how to have fun.

So, you use an amalgamation of all of the tips that you garnered. You flatten your tongue, ease your throat so that you can take him farther, until the head of his cock hits your uvula. 

“Shhit, mmf,” he breathes, attempting to stifle a moan by digging a hand into the forest soil. Immediately, you grab his hand and place it back onto your head, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“Keep ‘em here,” your hand fists his length, “want you to use me. Wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?” His dick twitches in your hold, because fuck, the sight before him is almost too much for him to handle. 

You, before him on your knees, with your dainty hand wrapped around him, and your face wet with drool. And you want him to what? Use you? To make him feel…good? God, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was Eywa playing tricks on his mind. Giving him a taste of euphoria before yanking him back to reality. 

He has half a mind to pinch himself, and half mind to poke you, because there’s just no way this is real. Bullshit. But then you’re sinking back down onto him, and swirling your tongue around his head, and using your hands to massage his balls, and—

“Fuck,” his hands reflexively push you down onto his length. His body shivers when the tip of your nose makes contact with his pelvis. You’re so warm, and wet, so inviting, he can’t seem to let go. He keeps you there until you physically can’t fathom it, and pull off of him in search of air. 

“That felt…nice,” he says bashfully, “can you do that again?” You nod eagerly, accumulating a generous amount of spit in your mouth to use as a salve, lathering it up and down the length of him before he guides you back to his awaiting cock. 

He watches intently as your lips stretch to accommodate him again. Now his hands, which are tangled in your tresses, are moving more confidently. They push and pull you, maneuvering your head gently and at a steady pace, then gradually, they increase their speed. 

Neteyam does this a few times and then allows you to take the reins. When you’re ready, you take a deep inhale through your nose, and push yourself down until you feel the weight of him hit the back of your throat. The first time was a bit easier, mostly because your jaw wasn’t as fatigued as it was now, but you persevere anyway. 

Inhale, exhale. A mantra that you have to repeat to yourself to distract you from the urge to gag. You try your best to keep your jaw relaxed and your throat open by digging your nails into the fat of his thighs. 

When you look up at him, there’s an elated expression molded onto his face. His head is thrown back against the tree, hair strewn about with tendrils sticking to his forehead, and his eyes are shut closed. 

He looks…so beautiful. That’s when you feel a tear ribbon down your face and onto his thigh. You’re unsure if it’s because of the air steadily leaving your brain, or if it’s because of how pretty he looks right now—all sweaty, slick with your drool.

You settle on the former. It had to be the air. Eventually, your lungs give out and you have to take a breather. The sudden loss of warmth forces his eyes open, and then they fall on your face. Your eyes. Doe-eyed and clouded. Cheeks stained with tears. 

“Pretty.” Is all he says, bringing up a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You work him the rest of the way with the iota of energy you have left, concentrating on the head of his cock while your hand fists him to climax. 

His abs begin to tremble and flex when you switch between hollowing your cheeks and massaging his balls. A visual indication that he was close to coming. 

“Waitwaitwait, it feels like,” he’s panicked, trying to push you away. You dodge his attempts to remove you and continue your assault, only this time, you gently apply pressure to his perineum. Unceremoniously, he pushes your head down to the hilt and you moan around him from the force. 

The vibrations from your throat makes his head feel all fuzzy. He’s so close, on the precipice of euphoria. And your hands—that are still situated on his thighs—rub the expanse of them reassuringly, coaxing him to finish right on your tongue. 

With a final lazy piston, he comes into your mouth, and the warm, salty seed that you’d been anticipating leaks down the column on your throat. Moans tumble from his lips, along with hushed expletives, and he’s shaking. The cords of muscle beneath your palm tense and flex before regressing to their natural, relaxed state. 

You remove your mouth promptly and rise to your haunches, making sure that his eyes are locked onto yours as you stick out your tongue to show him his seed. 

“No, do not swallow that, I didn’t mea—“ Disobeying his wishes, you do it anyway. Swallowing it all all down and making it a point that you did so by sticking your tongue out again. His tail flicks in response, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“Why did you do that? It’s dirty,” he caresses your cheek, wiping away the leftover spent from your mouth. 

“‘Cause I wanted to…” You counter. “And it’s not dirty, you tasted good.” 

Neteyam rolls his eyes at this, like him tasting good is too hard for him to believe. 

“Don’t believe me? Here, try it.” And then you give him the gift that you had gifted to him all those years ago. A kiss. It’s equal parts sweet and needy, different from the first time it happened, but that’s because it was supposed to be. You wanted him to know exactly what you meant. No more waiting. No more pining. 

When you draw back, breathless and dizzy, he’s still stuck in a stupor. Lips jutted out and waiting for you to kiss him again. Again, again, again. He opens his eyes, and sees you staring back at him. 

“See, I told yo—“ He takes a fist full of your hair and connects his lips to yours. This is him returning the gift. Letting you know that he got the message, loud and clear, and that it was reciprocated. Every ounce of love that flows through his heart is poured into your own; he hopes you can feel it. 

“I told you not to fall for me,” you whisper, looking up at him with an avian flutter of your lashes. Neteyam’s hands find solace on the sides of your cheeks, and then he speaks.

“I think I fell for you a long time ago.” Warmth washes over you, his sweet words and strong hands overriding all of your cognitive functions. Specifically, the one in charge of keeping you calm and collected. 

“Good, ‘cause I think you’re gonna fall for me a lot harder when you see what I have planned for you later.”

“What’s later?”

“Shh, what fun would it be if I told the birthday boy the surprise?” You grin cheekily, unaware of the way your tail swishes from side to side as you say it. Neteyam knows you’re up to no good, but he doesn’t care. He’d follow you anywhere, after all. 

© arachine 2023

[deliciousangelfestival]

Another Ending - 6 | spy!Bucky

Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.

Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Lori was spinning around the room, singing with a mischievous grin on her face, "Aunt is a nasty girl, yeah, she's a nasty girl," mimicking the moves from a viral dance she must have seen online.

You rolled your eyes, wincing slightly as Bucky gently cleaned and treated the wound on your arm. He glanced at Lori with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Meanwhile, Henry, sitting nearby with a puzzled look, watched Lori's performance unfold. "What on earth is she doing?" he asked, clearly baffled by her antics.

"She's making fun of me," you replied, sighing as you glanced over at your niece. Lori continued her exaggerated dance, clearly enjoying herself.

Bucky, focused on wrapping the bandage around your arm, muttered, "She's not nasty." His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of tension in his eyes.

Lori suddenly stopped dancing and sprinted over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tell me more about your ex!" she demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her.

You noticed Bucky’s hands falter for a moment as he tied the bandage a little tighter than necessary, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. "He's not my ex," you corrected, your tone firm but tinged with frustration.

Lori giggled, clearly enjoying teasing you. "Yeah... right..." she drawled, drawing out the word as she smirked knowingly.

You shook your head, exasperated. Your niece, always with her head in the clouds, had now latched onto the idea of some dramatic romance after discovering that you had encountered someone from your past.

And that someone was the very reason you were sitting here now, with fresh bandages and a sore arm. Lori’s song and dance were just her way of processing the excitement of what she imagined to be a grand love story, not realizing the pain and complexity it actually brought.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

24 hours ago

"What you said is pointless because we don't have the data," you replied, frustration lacing your tone.

Henry shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, that might be true, but I know where they hide it."

A groan escaped your lips, and you brought a hand to cover your face. "I hate where this is going."

"Why?" Lori asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

Bucky leaned forward, his expression serious. "You want us to steal it," he stated flatly, already seeing the direction Henry was headed.

Henry chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Steal is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as... liberating the truth. Recovering what's rightfully ours."

You shot him a skeptical look. "Liberating the truth? That sounds like something straight out of a heist movie."

Lori’s eyes widened with excitement. "A heist? Oh, this is so cool! Can I help? Please, let me help!"

Bucky gave her a wary glance. "This isn’t a game, Lori. It’s dangerous."

Lori bounced on her toes, her enthusiasm undiminished. "I know, but I want to be part of it! I can do it, I promise! You said I was a good actress, remember? I could be the distraction or, like, the tech whiz or something! Whatever you need!"

Henry grinned, clearly amused by her enthusiasm. "See? The girl’s got the right attitude! Nobody would suspect someone like her to be involved in espionage."

You sighed but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Alright, alright. If Lori wants in, then we’ll find a role for her. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you, Henry."

Lori clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! This is going to be awesome! I can’t wait!"

Henry clapped his hands together, his smile broadening. "That's the spirit! Now, let's get to work. We have some planning to do."

At Charity Event

The grand lobby of the company was abuzz with activity. Children laughed and played, their faces painted with bright colors. The "Make It Together" charity event, hosted by the company’s CEO, had drawn a large crowd.

Both of you are planning to steal data from a CEO known for holding everyone’s dirty secrets. This CEO also loves to host charity events at his company to enhance his public image and boost his business.

Dressed as a happy family, you and Bucky played the part of doting parents, while Lori, full of youthful enthusiasm, easily fit the role of your daughter. Henry, blending in with the crowd, kept a vigilant eye on the situation.

Henry knew about the vault because he had been there when the CEO proudly showcased it and placed the secret data inside.

As you and Bucky moved toward the restricted areas, you leaned in close, whispering urgently, “If things go south, remember—no matter what happens, save Lori first. She’s the priority.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in concern. “I don’t think—”

You cut him off, your voice firm but laden with emotion. “This is my only request, Bucky. Please.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I understand. But I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe too.”

As you and Lori approached the vault with Henry’s directions, Bucky positioned himself by the entrance, watching for any sign of trouble. You worked swiftly with the digital key cracker, trying to stay calm despite the tension.

Inside the Vault

The vault door opened with a soft click, revealing rows of safety deposit boxes and data drives. Lori, playing her role perfectly, had successfully distracted the guard, allowing you and Bucky to enter unnoticed.

“Got it,” you whispered, retrieving the data drive from its place on the shelf. “Let’s get out.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite double agent.”

You froze, hearing that familiar voice filled with spite. Standing in front of you was Romeo, your former colleague. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locked on you with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

“Romeo,” you said, trying to remain composed. “What are you doing here?”

Romeo’s smirk was a blend of flirtatiousness and anger. “I didn’t expect to see you here, especially not with him."

Bucky stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t have time for this.”

Romeo’s gaze flicked to Bucky, then back to you. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before you chose another. I’m just curious—did you miss me at all, or was it all just part of the job?”

You kept your tone even, but the past echoed in your words. “It was always part of the job, Romeo. Nothing more.”

Romeo's eyes flashed with a mix of fury and betrayal. He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with contempt. “Of all people, you choose to work with him? The most wanted fugitive and the worst traitor?” His tone was laced with disbelief as he gestured toward Bucky with a sharp, accusing finger.

Bucky stepped in, his voice firm. “Well, she chose me.”

The words hit Romeo hard. His face contorted with anger. “Oh, so that’s it? You’re just going to flaunt it in my face? How charming. I always knew you had a talent for stealing—both hearts and secrets.”

Lori, watching from a distance, could hardly believe the scene unfolding before her. She stayed silent, her eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. This is a LOVE TRIANGLE!

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Romeo. This isn’t about us anymore.”

Romeo’s anger flared. “I guess some things never change. You always had a knack for making everything personal.”

Before you could react, Romeo lunged, reaching for the data drive. Bucky moved to intercept him, but Romeo’s partner appeared, grabbing your arm and twisting it painfully.

“Gotcha,” the partner sneered.

You struggled free, delivering a swift kick to his side. The fight erupted in full force as Bucky and Romeo grappled, exchanging blows. You managed to push back your attacker, but Romeo drew a knife, aiming it directly at Lori.

Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of her, taking the hit to your side. Bucky’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N!”

You gritted your teeth, trying to stay upright. “Get Lori out of here!”

Bucky fought off Romeo and his partner with renewed determination, eventually knocking Romeo out cold. He helped you toward the exit, Lori’s worried face visible in the doorway.

Henry, who had been monitoring from outside, was already pulling up in the getaway car. “Get in!” he shouted.

Bucky helped you into the back seat, and Lori followed closely. The car sped away from the building, leaving the chaos behind.

As the adrenaline began to wane, Bucky pressed a hand to your wound, his face a mask of concern. “Hold on, we’re almost clear.”

Lori, her face pale but determined, asked quietly, “Aunt, are you okay?”

You managed a weak smile despite the pain. “I’m fine, Lori. Just a scratch.”

Henry glanced back through the rearview mirror. “Was it worth it?”

You held up the data drive, the evidence of the CEO’s wrongdoings. “We got what we needed.”

Henry grinned, relieved. “Then let’s get out of here before more agents show up.”

The car sped into the night, leaving the confrontation and the chaos of the charity event behind. You leaned back in your seat, clutching the drive tightly. Despite the pain and the narrow escape, you knew you had accomplished your mission.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Present Time

Lori was still buzzing with excitement, peppering you with questions about Romeo. Bucky, visibly agitated, clenched his jaw and avoided eye contact, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Henry was in the other room, trying to uncripted the drive. He took a drag from his cigar but suddenly erupted into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. The sound echoed through the room, making him look vulnerable.

Lori quickly sprang into action, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to Henry with a concerned expression. “Here, drink this,” she said softly.

Henry accepted the glass with a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

Lori watched him closely, her concern deepening. “How long have you been sick?”

Henry looked up, surprised by her insight. “How did you know?”

Lori pointed at the medicine in his bag, her voice carrying a tone of familiarity. “I used to help my mother take care of my father when he was sick. I remember most of the names of the medicines he used.”

Henry was impressed by her knowledge. His gaze softened, though his eyes still held a trace of sadness. “I just found out,” he admitted. “My life is now just counting days.” The doctor didn’t tell him, but he knew. That’s why he doesn’t want to die miserably in the nursing home.

Lori’s expression reflected a deep empathy, recognizing the bitterness in his words that mirrored her own father’s struggles. She glanced at the cigar and whiskey near Henry, then met his eyes with a gentle resolve.

“Do what you love while you still can,” she said quietly.

Henry chuckled, a bitter but appreciative smile playing on his lips. “I will.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

As Bucky finished treating your wound, the dim light from the room cast soft shadows across his face. He looked up, his expression serious yet tender.

“You’re in the danger zone, James. Why did you try to find me?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

Bucky’s gaze locked with yours, filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart ache. “I realized that knowing I can’t be with you forever is haunting me.”

You studied him, feeling the weight of his words. The room seemed to shrink around you, making the moment feel intensely intimate.

Bucky continued, his voice hushed but resolute. “I know I’m a bad person. I’ve lived my life constantly looking over my shoulder. If I die tomorrow, at least I need you to know how I feel. I don’t want to leave this world with regrets.”

You felt a lump in your throat, a mix of frustration and tenderness. “You’re a fool, Bucky.”

He let out a soft, bittersweet chuckle, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I know.”

“That’s why I liked you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, carrying an unspoken promise.

Bucky’s smile grew, and he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve always liked you too. Even when I didn’t want to admit it.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. You could see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, and it mirrored your own feelings.

Slowly, he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours. “If we make it out of this, let’s promise to take whatever chances we can get. Let’s not waste another moment.”

Your heart raced as you closed the distance between you, sharing a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up over time. The kiss was both tender and passionate, a release of all the feelings that had been pent up for so long.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, and Bucky’s eyes were filled with a mix of relief and hope. “Let’s fight for a future where we can be together,” he whispered.

You nodded, your heart full of resolve and affection. “We will.”

As the romantic moment unfolded, a sense of quiet intimacy enveloped you and Bucky. But that peace was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a soft chuckle. Both of you turned, your sighs of frustration mingling with the realization that you were being watched.

There, peeking around the edge of the door, was Lori, her eyes wide with curiosity and amusement. You and Bucky exchanged a knowing glance, recognizing that your private moment had been intruded upon.

"Lori!" you called out, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment.

Lori’s face broke into a playful grin, and she quickly darted away, her laughter echoing down the hallway as she ran.

Bucky shook his head with a chuckle, the tension from the moment melting away. You couldn’t help but smile at Lori’s antics, feeling a sense of warmth despite the interruption.

Bucky turned to you, his eyes softening with affection. “Well, at least she’s in good spirits.”

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[weediewrites]

All so oblivious

HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: Y/N has a neighbourhood friend over, Margaret. A regular talk with some tea and cakes quickly turned into a much more sinister and bruting talk.

E/N: Thank you all for the support in the last one, really, I am so grateful. I'm very glad you all enjoy my writing - I will continue to keep everyone updated! ❤️

Trigger warnings: This story contains talk of murder, blood, and abuse and is not suitable for young audiences. Please let me know if I missed anything!

"You know, it really is unfortunate. So many young people, innocent people, suddenly going missing." Margaret said solemnly. I was standing in the kitchen, cutting an apple Danish I had made for Margaret and as I hummed quietly in response, not paying much mind to her theatrics.

"I mean, what person could go and do such heinous things to such lovely people with long lives ahead of them." She pinched the space between her brows.

I paused, the knife in my hand scraping gently across the board as it came to a halt. "It's surprising you think all these people are innocent, Marg. We really don't know." I mumbled softly.

"Innocent or not, nobody deserves to die. Especially all those young boys." Marg scoffed at my response. She had always been this way, devils advocate. It was one of the few reasons that over the years I'd begun growing a dislike for Margaret. She was too sympathetic for the wrong people.

"Those 'young boys' with 'promising futures' were nothing but abusers! Every last one of them." I spat aggressively before composing myself. "Each of them had no right wandering our streets."

Margaret's voice quickly halted, one of the rare occasions she kept quiet.

"You're disgusting." She growled, I could hear her glass being placed on my table and the sound of the wooden floors creaked as she stood up to her feet.

"Why are you so against these people being alive. It's almost as if you have something to do with this all you know?" She added onto her statement.

"Me? knowing something you all don't?" I let go of the knife, turning to face her as I leaned against the kitchen countertop. "Margaret you're being silly. You must really go home, you're probably having post partum delusions again-" I was about to step forward before she stopped me.

"Don't come near me! You had something to do with this didn't you. I've been trying to tell everybody you and Alastor are too perfect for your own good, nobody listens to me. You're sick." She yelled.

"I'm not sick, Margaret. You are the one spitting nonsense!" I screamed back, my voice raising ever so slightly above hers. "How dare you come into my home and accuse me of these crimes." I shook my head in disappointment.

I moved my hand behind me, grabbing the knife slowly. "I will hand it to you though, you are correct." I shrugged.

"W-what?" She asked softly, hands dropping to her sides and clenching into fists.

"I know, Marg. It's a shame... I really did like you, but you've always been so loud mouthed. So nosy, always in somebody else's business when it's not yours to be concerned about. Me and Al can't have that. We have a reputation to uphold." I smiled softly.

"I mean, what would the papers say if they found out?" I laughed softly.

"You're a psychotic bitch! You know that." She screamed.

I hummed, nodding my head. I glared Marg up and down, tears could be seen falling from her eyes as they formed over a glossy shine.

"Before you die, I'm going to tear that tongue out of your mouth so you never speak about me or my husband again." My smile quickly dropped into a flat line.

I was as she quickly attempted to scramble to the front door, which was unsuccessful as she tripped on the rug. I quickly ran over, flipping her in her back to look up at me.

I smiled, pulling the knife atop my head with my hands before plunging it into her chest repeatedly. Once, twice, a fourth time, a fifth, as far as twenty before I stopped counting. There Margaret laid, in a pool of what looked like melted rubies. I stood up, leaving her in her final resting spot as I carried on with my day.

Cutting the Danish, doing the laundry, pouring Alastor his whiskey for when he got home. He could deal with Margaret when he arrived, but the whole time I finished up my jobs - the only thing on my mind was "They're all so oblivious."

E/N: How do we like this one? Yay or nay? Feel free to be honest (and feel free to send ideas)

Reminder to have a dandy day everyone!

- Weedie 🌹

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 109

Geralt is a witcher. Cats tend to distance themselves from witchers. Sometimes Geralt wonders what cats are like. So one day he asks. "Cats are lovely. Beautiful little sweethearts." The old woman who owns the inn says to him. "Cats are annoying varmints, always yowling in the middle of the night when they're in heat, they SCREAM their little heads off, can't catch a wink of sleep with them around!" A man passing by him in the market complains, with the anger of someone who has clearly thought about this a lot. "My cat isn't the biggest fan of being touched, but she's a good girl. Catches the mice." "They're evil little hellions, nothing compared to dogs. Don't even like their owners." "I'd like 'em a whole lot more if my way of living wasn't being a fisherman. They climb in at night and steal my best catches." "They're adorable!" "My cat is the cuddliest sweetest snuggliest little kitty to ever live, I think. Nobody will ever love me as much as he loves me." "My friend has a kitten! She already knows to chase the feathers we wave in front of her! I hope she still plays when she grows up." Opinions are varied in the town, but the majority seem to love them. He wants to know what they're like, not if they are liked. He sits down with a friendlier townie one afternoon and asks in detail what cats are like. What's great about them, what's bad about them, what do they like, what do they hate, what can they do, what have they done? The more she describes cats, however, the more Geralt can't help but be reminded of Jaskier. "They're playful. They love making noise and chasing things."

"Geralt, please, can't I play my lute? It's been fourteen whole minutes of SILENCE! Let me play a song!" "Why do you stay?" "Maybe I just like following you, Geralt. It's nice only having to pay for half of everything, after all."

"They're moody little things. Cats will want to cuddle you one second, and be left alone the next, and if you can't read their mind, they'll give you an annoyed little pouty face, as if you were meant to know better!"

"Geralt, do you mind if I...?" "If you what?" "Sit here?" "...My lap?" "That is where I'm sitting, yes. May I?" "...Mm." "Great thanks!~" "Geralt, you pissing idiot! I can't believe you! Don't touch me! Don't even look at me! How could you do something so so so SO stupid!?" "This is my job, Jaskier." "And apparently sewing up your arm is mine!" "I can take care of it." "Oh, I'm meant to just trust the man who went off and got mauled by a werewolf, then?"

"They enjoy a good sleep. Cats nap more than my old man, if you can believe it. They love comfort and luxury."

"Geralt, can't we stay at an inn? It's been so long." "Can we rest? Just for a bit? Pleaaaase? I want a nap. Don't I deserve it?" "Geralt, not to be ungrateful, but I think sleeping on the dirt would be better than this inn. Don't tell me you're making us sleep here. There's probably snakes nesting in the pillows."

"But at the same time, they love the grittiest bits of the outdoors. Chasing rabbits through tunnels, climbing trees after a songbird- My childhood cat used to dive in the swamp to catch frogs."

"Geralt, taking a shortcut through the bog is the easiest way to get to the competition in time! Now hurry along! Either I cross the bog alone, or you come with me!" "Geralt, I went looking for potion ingredients while you were skinning the deer!" "Geralt, are you going to cut the damn thing's head off or what? Wait, darling, are you alright? Are you hurt? Let me do it-"

"They sometimes bring you dead critters because they want to feed you. It's oddly very endearing."

"Geralt, I bought you some honey buns!" "I found some lovely cakes, do you want one, Geralt? You haven't eaten at all today." "I- I killed it. It was coming straight for you and I panicked. Am I bleeding? I can't quite tell because of the adrenaline, so am I bleeding or not, Gerelt? Can you tell me? Are YOU bleeding? Did I get it in time?" "I got so many tips last time I played, Geralt, you can get a bigger meal."

"They get themselves into trouble a lot, though. Places they shouldn't be, things they shouldn't touch, things they shouldn't eat."

"Geralt, I didn't mean to cause all of this. I'm sorry." "It's nothing, Jaskier. I'm just glad you're unharmed." "...Um... Geralt? Can you let go of my wrists now?" "Don't. Touch. Anything. The plant's spines are poisonous." "Jaskier, spit it out! SPIT IT OUT! I told you to stop fucking eating things in Yennefer's place" "Then why was it colored like a nice candy?"

"When they're scared or angry, they can make a right mess out of you. Don't let their cuteness fool you, they can do some damage."

"What else was I supposed to do, Geralt?" "Not punch him!" "He said you were a monster!" "I am!" "Do you want me to punch YOU?" "Geralt, I lost my dagger. It was in one of the bandits we chased away." "Geralt, will you teach me how to use a sword? Nothing fancy, just how to kill something."

"But above all, they're loyal, and loving. Ever so lovely. They'd die for you, if you treated them nice enough." "Thank you for telling me. I.. Have to go." Geralt stammers out, racing away to the inn he left Jaskier in. "Oh, hello, Geralt. Did you find a contact?" And Geralt yanks him close, and hugs him. He should try kissing him one of these days. Either way, Geralt won't mourn for the cat he can never have, for he has a Jaskier, and it's close enough.

[moonlightspencie]

hey lovely! i saw you were asking for more requests and i love your writing so i am happy to help 🫡😂 can you write a one shot with any of the marauders (you can choose) where the reader works in a coffee shop and he comes in all the time and she thinks it’s because he loves coffee but he really just likes her? idk just thought it would be cute!! thank you friend!

hehehe, well remus won the number 2 spot on my poll, so here he is!

remus lupin x gn!reader

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

You smiled to yourself when you saw a familiar tall, lanky, scarred, absolutely endearing man walk into the café. He had a habit of dropping in every day. Sometimes twice a day. He'd come to be one of your absolute favorite regulars.

"Hi, Remus," you grinned brightly at him as he came to the counter.

"Hi," he replied shyly, his cheeks a little pink. "How are you today?"

"Can't complain. We've had a pretty slow day, but I'm not mad about it."

"I suppose it's a good thing I've come in, then. I've got to keep this place up and running," he joked lightly.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Want your regular?"

"Please," he nodded, smiling a bit at the fact she knew his order. "Also whatever you'd like."

"What?"

"I'd like to pay for whatever drink you'd like, too. You told me last time that you only get one free drink per shift," he said with a small shrug.

You blinked, looking at him in a bit of surprise. "You really don't have to do that."

"I'd like to. If you'll let me."

"Really?" you smile again.

"Really. It's the least I can do."

"I'm only doing my job," you let out a breathy chuckle, your own cheeks heating a little. Though you wouldn't admit it, you'd begun to harbor a small crush on the man. "No big deal."

"You go the extra mile. Nobody else has ever bothered to remember my order."

"Well... you're easy to remember."

His cheeks went even pinker as he sighed softly. "You are... unnecessarily kind."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all."

You smile again, writing on the two cups, then give him the total. He pays, leaving much too generous of a tip as always, and goes to sit down. You start on both of your drinks, debating in your head what you should do. Was it wrong to hit on a patron of the café? Maybe. But was he terribly cute and really sweet? Definitely.

You quickly scribbled your name and number on the cup, then called his name.

He walked up with a sweet smile. "Thanks."

"No problem. But... Maybe next time, I can buy you a drink?"

His brows rose. "This is your job. I don't want you to feel like you have to pay for me at your workplace."

"Then maybe I could buy you a drink someplace else?"

He blushed fiercely. "Oh."

"Unless I'm picking up the wrong signals, of course," you shift on your feet. "I've been thinking you just really liked coffee, but now I'm not so sure."

"You're much sweeter than the coffee," he admits with a soft voice.

You bite back a grin. "In that case... my number's on the cup, and I'm off at six. Maybe text me?"

He swallows, his eyes wide as he nods. "That... that sounds great."

"Good. I'll see you around, then?"

"Next time, maybe not just for the coffee," he smiles, nodding again once.

He walks out of the café a minute later, leaving you giddy on more than caffeine for the rest of your shift. The second you clocked out, you checked your phone, seeing a message from an unknown number:

You made my heart race a lot faster than the coffee today. Thanks for asking me out, I don't think I could have worked up the nerve myself haha

This is Remus, by the way.

You laughed softly, typing a quick response.

Now you'll have to tell me your second favorite place to get drinks. Can't wait :)

[miniwheat77]

Maybe One Day. (Ghost x Petite!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Size kink, Ghost being a little talkative, petite!reader, unprotected sex, some sad parts, mentions of death, blood, violence, (sorry if I missed any)

(Summary): Reader is in love with Ghost but is okay with the fact that it’ll never lead anywhere.

I got a petite!reader ask, you can find that here.

If she wasn’t on her phone, working, or buried in a book, she was thinking about him. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Y/N has worked alongside Ghost for quite some time now. A few years. From the very moment she’d laid eyes on him, she fell in love. As time went on, her feelings only seemed to grow for him. Up to this point, the fifth year working alongside him, she’d had very limited conversations with him. Anytime she made an attempt to deepen any kind of conversation, he shrugged her off. At first, she thought maybe if she talked to him enough. Close enough to him, maybe. Just maybe something would happen. But he ignored her, walked away from her, and always kept it short. So she gave up after about a year. From then on, the last four years after that, she kept it professional. Only talked to Ghost on missions when she absolutely had to. Didn’t interact with him on base aside from small waves, and kept to herself for the most part.

She made an attempt to hide the feelings she had for Ghost, but it didn’t always work. Most people caught on. The waves, the way she smiled and acted all giddy when he was around. Everything. She was nice to everyone but it was different when it came to Ghost. Nearly anybody could tell. Soap looked at her from the hallway. Ghost stood next to him. “Are you sure about this Ghost?” Soap asks. Ghost nods his head. You were currently folding up a table cloth. Soap sighs, spinning on his heels and entering the mess hall.

"Hey." He smiles. "Uh.. hi." You smile. "You scared me."

"Oh, my bad." He smiles. "I just heard you come out and thought I'd come talk to you."

“About what?”

"Simon."

"What about him?"

"I.. think you know."

You pause for a moment. Looking down at your feet.

"That obvious ah?" You smile. "Uhh.. maybe just a little bit." Soap laughs. "I just… I wouldn't want you getting hurt Y/N. He's kinda.. guarded. Yknow?"

"Oh I know Soap. There's no chance in hell we'd ever work out. Hell, it'd be a shot in the dark if he was even into me." Soap knows you're keeping it together but he can see the hurt in your eyes.

"What?"

"I'm.. not that interesting." You laugh. Simon waited right on the other side of the wall, listening in.

"I think he's just well guarded Y/N. There's nothing wrong with you."

You let out a small laugh, looking down at the ground. "Yeah. I know that nothing will ever come of it. It's just a dumb crush, nothing more."

Soap was only talking to you because Simon asked him to. He told Soap that there was no chance anything would ever work between the two of you and he needed you to know exactly what to expect. After finishing up the conversation with Soap, it had been made clear. Ghost had put Soap up to it. Which meant Ghost was getting tired of it or you’d been making him uncomfortable. You just wished Ghost had come to you about it personally rather than making it everyone else’s business and embarrassing you like that. After that day, you started ignoring Ghost. No more small waves when passing by. No more making conversation with him up on the roof when you took over watch, no more offering to take over his shifts or helping him with his chores. You drew back completely and passed by him with a cold shoulder. You were short when he needed to talk to you, just like he’d been with you. He noticed it immediately.

After a week or so, everyone noticed you hadn’t been active. Nobody had seen you in passing, nobody had talked to you or seen you during meals, and they noticed your captain was picking up your part of the chores. It was unusual. Eventually after they all pestered their Captain enough, he finally caved. “Alright fine. Meet in my office after Lunch and we’ll talk. But this stays between all of us.” He glares. They all nod their heads. After lunch, everyone met up. Ghost waited until a few minutes after, hiding in the hallway. “Alright. Y/N has been on rest in her room until we can get her home. She got a phone call about a week ago that her younger brother was killed in a car accident. She’s very upset, and you guys need to leave her be unless she comes to you for help. Am I clear?” He says. Everyone nods their heads. As everyone finishes up the conversation, Ghost notices a flash of black pass by the doorway to Captain Price’s office. He follows whatever it is, noticing you in the mess hall picking up the lukewarm pot of coffee. Once their conversation was done, Captain Price came in. When he sees you, he’s curious. “Hey, what’re you doing out of your room?” He asks. You raise the cup of coffee. John nods. You say nothing, making your way back to your room. It was odd for the both of them to see you in night clothes. Just shorts and a t-shirt. John looks at Ghost, getting a shrug back.

The following day, Ghost is eating breakfast with Soap in the mess hall. It’s only them and Captain Price inside so far. To their surprise, you walk inside. Broom in hand. You start sweeping up the mess hall. Something you did on a daily basis. It was a very small part of your chores. Not just that, you have your full uniform on. “Uh.. Y/N.” John looks up from his coffee. You pause, looking at him. Your eyes are bloodshot. You look like you haven’t slept in days. “You don’t have to do that, I got you covered. We’re trying to get you home.” You don’t stop sweeping. “They had his funeral already, I have no reason to go home. I’ll be just fine here, thanks anyways Captain.” You sweep everything into the dustpan, walking off. John sighs.

This goes on for a couple days. You’re on edge. Nobody sees you eat, you don’t sleep very well. You’re struggling and there’s nothing anybody can do. Everyone tells Ghost to check up on you. You like Ghost, maybe you’d open up to him. And he did try. Went out of his comfort zone to ask you how you’re doing. You gave him a short “I’m fine.” And shrugged him off after that.

To you, he didn’t care. Nobody cared. They were coworkers, nothing more. They didn’t care what you were going through, they only cared about what you were useful for.

You sat quietly on the chopper. Everyone else made small talk but you, you just stared ahead. You had a blank expression on your face. Like you were staring right through everything. Expressionless, emotionless. Like you weren’t there. Soap is the first to notice, but knows not to get involved. You’re struggling. The last thing you need is someone pestering you. “Alright. Don’t forget the plan. Y/N and Ghost are frontlines. Entering through vents on the rooftops. Gaz and I will be posting guard with rifles, Soap will be entering through the mines. It’s where the least amount of threats are.” Your Captain explains more details before the chopper lands, and when it lands it’s a go. You and Ghost quickly make your way inside, dropping tear gas through the vents and waiting for it to dissolve completely before jumping in.

Ghost notices immediately you’re more ruthless than before. Wearing no emotion on your face as you ambush people, stabbing them. Blood spatters over your face and you don’t even flinch as it does. It’s shocking to see someone so small being so violent. Successfully at that. When the buildings are clear, you’re leaning up against a pool table in the back room. Ghost is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “You told Captain they had his Funeral already. They didn’t wait for you?” Ghost asks. “No.” You rolls your eyes. “Why?” He asks. Drawing a chuckle from your lips. You cross your arms, not turning your head to even look at him. “Deadbeat parents, they don’t give a fuck about me or how I feel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “Luck of the draw, how d’ya think I ended up in this shit show?”

The body in front of Ghost has one of your knives in his chest, you walk over to it. Pressing your foot down onto his shoulder and pulling the knife out of him. You wipe it off on your pants before returning back to where you were leaning at the pool table. Everyone else walks into the room, lowering their weapons when they see you and Ghost waiting patiently. They look like they had a hell of a fight. “We gave you guys the hardest task and you look untouched.” Captain Price laughs. “Just too good.” You shrug, walking passed them. Soap smiles, stepping in. “Successful mission.” He holds up a flash drive. The one you’d been looking for. “Fuck yeah.” You smile. You still had that same pain in your eyes. No matter how happy you seemed, it stayed there. You twirl the knife in your hand the entire way back to the chopper, and just like before. You’re staring off into space. Brain in an entire different dimension as you spin it around in your hand.

Overtime, Ghost notices you more and more. How much different you’ve become, how cold you’ve been acting. You’re still giving him the cold shoulder. Still not making much conversation with him.

He makes his way onto the watch post, seeing you sitting back in a chair with your feet kicked up, looking at the room full of cameras. He makes his way up to you, he’s a few minutes early. You stand up, picking up your items and going to walk away. “Leaving so soon?” He asks. You pause, body going rigid. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” You still have your back turned to him. “Just thought you’d want to make some small talk. Talk about what’s going on.” He shrugs. You turn around, a smile on your face. “Yeah, let’s be friends, we’ll exchange stories about our shitty lives. It’ll be a sleepover.” You smile. “So that’s a no.” He chuckles. You bite your lip for just a second, taking a step toward him. “What? You want to be friends now? The few times I tried making small talk with you, you had Soap tell me to leave you alone. So no, I don’t really feel like talking.” You roll your eyes, spinning to walk around. “I had him tell you to back off because I could tell you liked me. I knew you wanted to be more than friends.” You laugh, “See that’s where you’re mistaken Ghost, we’re not friends. Hell, we’re not even acquaintances. You and I? We’re just coworkers. Nothing more.” With that, you walk down the stairs. It stings Ghost a little bit that you’re so cold to him, but really he asked for this. “Hey!” He calls to you. “I’m your superior, when Captain Price isn’t around, you answer to me, Sergeant.” You turn around, smirk at your lips. You cross you arms, taking a couple steps up the stairs. “Yeah? What can I do for you, Lieutenant.” The venom in your voice is potent. “Go back inside the watch tower.” You roll your eyes. “Yes sir.” You throw your bag back down once you step inside. Ghost closes the door. “Sit down.” You hate that you have to listen to him. But you do anyways. Crossing your arms and leaning back. “Good. Now talk.” He looks at you. “About what?”

“What’s bothering you?” He asks. You narrow your eyes. “You already know what’s bothering me.”

He shakes his head. “Can we just be done here? Or am I going to have to fight my way out?” Ghost let’s out a deep chuckle. “Sweetheart, you can’t fight me. You won’t win.” A scoff leaves your lips. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” He laughs. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re tiny. I could pick you up with one hand.” He sits back in his chair, the tight shirt he has on tightens perfectly over his arms and shoulders. You swallow hard, but Ghost doesn’t miss it. “You’re hiding something else, something else was bothering you.” You raise your eyebrows, giving him a ‘are you fucking serious.’ Look. “You’re joking right?” You laugh. He looks confused. “You assumed that I like you, and instead of coming to me to tell me to back off, you told someone else to come to me and say it. Not only is that a concern that should have stayed between the both of us, but it’s pretty embarrassing that everyone knows now.” You roll your eyes. “Okay. That was a bad call on my part. I’m sorry.” He places his hands on his thighs. Your eyes glancing at them for a split second. “Are we done now?” You swallow hard. “I suppose.” He mumbles.

—

A few weeks later, Captain Price put you on leave for a week.

When you come back, you seem in worse shape than before. Ghost is the first to notice. You look like you haven’t been eating or sleeping. It’s late and he can hear weights crashing in the gym, pulling himself out his bed to go check on whoever it is, not surprised to see that it’s you. “Bad idea to do that without a spotter.” He mumbles. He rubs his eyes tiredly. His mask isn’t on straight, he just threw it on really quick. You say nothing in return. “Y/N, what’s going on?” You’re breathing hard from lifting the weight up. “Parents lied about my little brother dying, wanted me to send money for his funeral so that they could just have the money.” You breathe. Teeth gritted as you lift the weight. “They’ve brainwashed him, made him hate me. I got nobody left.” You’re panting hard, groaning as you lift the weight. Ghost takes it from your hands, lifting it up with one hand and laying it in the rack. “Talk to me.” He breathes. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by you. What you were just struggling to lift, he lifted with one hand.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. “I don’t have anybody either. That’s why I joined the military in the first place, but it’s not exactly worked out too well in my favor because 141 is like my family. Something I’ve never had.” He breathes. You laugh. “How sweet.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. We look out for each other. Make sure everyone is okay all the time, why you think I’m here hm? Everyone worries about you.” You laugh. “That’s complete bullshit and you know it. I used to try to talk to you all of the time and you just shrugged me off like nothing. Nothing was different between then and now. You’re free to leave whenever you want, Ghost.” You roll your eyes. He takes a deep breath. He’s clearly getting frustrated with you. “Why do you care about em? Hm? They don’t give a fuck about you, never have. Why lose sleep over it? I don’t.” He shrugs. “Rough concept. Maybe you’re just mentally stronger than me. But that’s not exactly my point.” You roll your eyes. You stand up, walking away to another area to work out. “Look. It’s almost midnight and we have to be up at 6. I’m not too keen on losing this much sleep. Let’s go to bed, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He mumbles. “Go ahead, I’m not making you stay here.”

“Goddamnit.” He mumbles. He makes his way near you as you reach for a bar, he lifts you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder. “Simon! Put me down!”

“No. You’re going to bed.”

“I’ll just lay awake.”

“Than you’ll lay awake in my bed.”

Your body goes rigid and Ghost chuckles. He opens his door up and spins around to close and lock it behind him. He throws you down onto his bed and you bounce up, scrambling to prop yourself up onto your elbows. He grasps the hem of his shirt, pulling it off. “Um.. what the fuck is going on?” You ask. He straddles your hips, leaning down into you. You let yourself fall all of the way back, backing away from his face. He laughs. “This is what you wanted, right?” You shake your head. “No-no. I don’t want your weird pity s-“ he covers your throat with his hand, the small size of you has him smiling. He likes the control he has over you. “Mnot trying to fuck you out of pity. I know you like me, I know you want to fuck me. I wanna fuck you too.” He mumbles. This side of Simon is weird. You’re used to the guarded, quiet Simon. This was new. “I like you, have forever. S’just a bad idea to start something with someone when you could die any day. But you don’t mind right?” He smirks. He pulls his mask off, and you swallow hard, seeing him.

All of him.

Everyone on base but you had seen his face.

“You’re so tiny..” he mumbles. “So easy to..” he pins your hips down into his bed. Earning a gasp from your lips. “You want me to fuck you or not?” He bites his lip. You swallow hard, cheeks burning. You nod slowly. He smirks, tugging his sweatpants down his legs. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, since you were working out. He tugs them off of you quickly. He is massive, you swallow hard when you see the size of his cock. He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. “Don’t worry, M’gonna make you feel real good. Just try to be quiet for me.” He lines himself up with your entrance and you breathe out. All of the pining you’d done. The sleep you lost over him, everything. And now? A deep breath leaves your lips when he prods at your opening. The tip of his fat cock disappearing between your folds. He’s stretching you already and he’s barely started. He groans out, holding onto your hips tightly. Holding you exactly where he wants you. He clamps a hand over your mouth when he thrusts all of the way inside of you, enjoying the way your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. He’s huge. When he starts fucking into you, it’s intense. You’re watching him disappear inside of you. He says something but you aren’t listening. “Don’t tell me you’re cock drunk already?” He chuckles. He pushes you back by your chest, shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Such a good girl.” Your mouth makes his cock twitch slightly. You’re tight around Simon and he moans out. “So. Fucking. Good.” He groans between thrusts. You’re surprised how vocal he is.

You feel a high approaching already and he notices how wet you’re getting on him. He bites his lip. Lowering his gaze so that he can watch his big cock disappear into your little hole. He’s gritting his teeth, keeping a steady pace and you tilt your head back. “Ah! S-Simon-“ you whimper. “S’alright. You can cum baby.” He mumbles, leaning down slightly and attaching his lips to yours for the first time. It sends you right into a su space, the softness of his lips has you disappearing. Your moans get muffled by him as he fucks you through your first high. It won’t be your last of the night. Your thighs shake as he overstimulates you. Not giving you anytime to adjust to him. “Fuck you get so tight on me when you cum.” He groans. He starts to rock his hips into yours a little faster than before. He’s eager, wanting his own high. “Why don’t you ride me, hm?” You nod your head. He slides out of you, moving so that you can sit up. When he lays down you straddle him, lowering yourself onto him. Hissing at the new angle, he’s going too deep. He chuckles. “It’s okay.” You rock your hips up, turning around to see how far you’re taking him down. “Try to take all of me.” He mumbles. “I-I can’t.” He chuckles. “You can. Just relax for me.” You nod your head, if you wanted to stop now, he’d let you obviously. He runs his hands up your thighs, resting on your hips. He licks his lips when he forces your hips down onto him, a gasp leaving your lips as he bottoms out again. Your legs weaken and you rest yourself onto him.

You give yourself a second to adjust and he doesn’t try to make you. Letting you rock your hips into him, getting used to it. Pretty soon, you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning out. He’s smiling a lazy smile at you, loving how dirty it is. You’re addicted to him, chasing your high on his cock. He’s getting close and he can tell you’re close too by the way you’re tightening around him and the intensity of your moans. He’s panting hard, thighs clenching and lower stomach knotting up. That sweet knot was going to unravel and against his better judgement, if you don’t stop. He’s going to fill your little pussy full of his cum. You’re rocking back and fourth in him, feeling so good. He loves seeing it, loves seeing you pleasure yourself on him. It’s just a bonus that he gets to watch it, and cum too. This is so much better than jerking off. It’s all he’s done to cum in the last few years. He wanted to make a move on you sooner but knew it was a bad idea. He grips your thighs, helping guide you onto him. “Got me fucking close baby.” He groans. “M-me too.” You pant. Your eyes are watering from being overwhelmed. He lifts his hips into yours, getting frustrated and holding you up so he can thrust up into you. “Oh fuck-“ his voice cracks and a whimper leaves his lips. “I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “Fuck I’m gonna cum baby-“ he cries. “Me too Simon-“ a gasp leaves your lips when you hit your second high, feeling his warmth spill into your depths. Filling you up. Your lips are parted and you’re resting your hands on his chest. Feeling him leak down out of you.

You climb off him, going to stand up but he stops you, pulling you back into him. “Relax.” He breathes. “Sleep here.” He mumbles. Pulling you into his front. “Simon-“ he stops you. “We can talk more about this tomorrow alright? But you need sleep, and I got you. I always got you. Just sleep for now.” He breathes. Feeling his warmth and the way his arms are wrapping around you is too much. You feel your eyes getting heavy.

@clove-shitposts

[sanicsmut]

Gojo Satoru x Confident!Plus Size!Reader

Warnings : she/her reader, fatphobia, mention of food but it’s not related to reader’s weight, use of the word ‘fat’ but positively. I don’t know if it could be considered slight angst if reader isn’t affected by the fatphobia.

Words: 733

Robin’s comment: We need more fics with a fat reader who doesn't feel bad about being fat and doesn't doubt being hot even when confronted with fatphobia. It’s pretty short. I don’t have the attention span to write a long and coherent thing, so I hope it’ll be enough. Keep in mind that I don’t actually write that much, and that english isn’t my first language and I don't have a beta reader. If the use of the word 'fat', even in a positive way, is triggering for you i'd advise you to not read this.

Like every day, you decided to visit your boyfriend during his break. He wasn’t on a mission, thankfully, which meant you could steal more time with him. You walked through the streets of Tokyo, your black skirt fluttering in the wind as you walked. You thanked your past self for thinking about wearing shorts, you didn’t want all of Tokyo to see your backside, this was a privilege for your boyfriend after all. Your handbag was filled with all kinds of sweets for him — how else would you thank him for being the best partner you’ve ever had ?

You were passing a café near Jujutsu High when you heard people laughing. You didn’t pay attention to it, initially, but when you heard the words ‘whale’ and other very funny — sarcasm — comparisons. It was true, you were fat. Yes, fat, not chubby or plus sized. No, fat, and not in the ‘norm fitting’ way that would make you an acceptable type of fat in the eyes of skinny people and the beauty norms, no you were… just you. Fat. You always said it wasn’t a bad word, people said skinny with no negative connotation after all, so why not fat ? And you weren’t ashamed of it, you loved your body, you loved how your clothes looked on you, you loved your fat and your rolls and even your stretch marks and everything that came with being bigger than average. Really. But that pride didn’t stop stupid and ignorant people from commenting on your physical appearance as if it was the funniest shit ever.

You turned your gaze to a table in front of the café and, surely, a group of people was sitting there. Boys and girls alike were laughing, some looking not very subtly in your direction. You walked towards them and they all fell silent.

“A whale, huh?” You said. You almost wanted to laugh at their dumbfounded expressions.

“We… uh… We weren’t talking about you.” One of the boy managed to say awkwardly. He kept looking everywhere but you.

“Oh but you were. What did you say?” You asked, looking at the girl sitting right next to him. “What was it? There’s gonna be an earthquake if I keep walking?”

She shrunk in her seat. You could be very intimidating when you wanted to.

“That’s funny.” You commented, not looking amused in the slightest. “Now let me tell you. All of you. You’re lucky I’m not ashamed of being fat. As a matter of fact, I’d say I’m pretty hot. So your comments don’t do shit to me. However, there are people out there who aren’t as confident as I am. Do you have any idea of the impact these kinds of comments can have on someone? Do you think people can choose to be fat ot not? Do you think we don’t know we’re fat? Do you think saying this will change our life and create a miracle maybe? It’s our life, our bodies, right? If you’re disgusted by fat people, you’re the problem. Go see a fucking therapist and work on your inner insecurities, because this is pathetic.”

Silence.

“It’s easy to talk when you think we can’t hear you, but you fall silent when I’m confronting you?”

You scoffed.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway. Next time you see someone who doesn’t fit your beauty standards, maybe keep if for yourself because nobody cares. And try not to insult them, I doubt you’d appreciate if I commented on your very obvious physical flaws.”

They all looked pretty uncomfortable, you simply threw them another condescending glance before walking away. What a group of stupid idiots.

“Now that was pretty hot.”

You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Satoru!” You exclaimed, beaming.

You turned around and, surely, he was here in all his glory.

“You were a bit late so I went outside to wait for you.” He grinned, taking you in his arms. “I’m glad to see my beautiful girlfriend is still as fiery as ever.”

You practically melted in his embrace, pressing a kiss on his lips.

“I couldn’t let them think they could get away with this.”

“And you did a good job, sweetheart, I’m proud of you. I'd say no one can mess with my girlfriend, but at this point you don't even need me to defend you.”

You smiled, leaning away just enough to take the sweets out of your bag.

“Here, for being the best boyfriend ever.”

“Are you trying to make me fall in love even more?” He said lightheartedly. “Thanks, wanna share them?”

“Gladly.”

[whaledenwtf]

Halsin x Druid!Reader - The Forest's Calling

I'm currently HYPERFIXATING on Baldur's Gate 3. This is my love letter to Mount Halsin, the elf I would climb until my limbs fell off. You're welcome (or I'm sorry). Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy!

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Kinky DRUID Forest Sex, Misuse of the Entangle Cantrip (hehe), Size Difference

I tried to keep Halsin in character as much as possible, but there is a significant change when y'all get funky

WORD COUNT: 4691

Nature calls to you, as it always had. The sounds of the forest have always been your favourite. Silvanus' creations had made you feel complete. The moss between your toes, and the swaying of trees; you had never felt so much peace during such perilous times. It's at times like this you are gracious for your god's teachings; nature is chaotic as it is gentle, and things will sort them out- if that is what is determined. This is how you kept such a level head during this adventure. Some of your companions saw your level-headedness as worrisome, but you always remind them that to persevere is in the forest's nature, and so it is in yours.

No good ever came from stressing over obstacles in your life.

"If you could stop thinking about the grass for five seconds, I'd appreciate you listening to me. Tch- tree huggers." Astarion tells you annoyed. You look into his crimson eyes and smirk.

"This tree hugger is your key to freedom. Unless you forgot about the tadpole in your brain." Astarion's eyes widen, before he smirks.

"Keep talking dirty, sweetheart. Might not resist taking a bite~" You chuckle.

"Settle down. Like I told you beforehand, we must seek out the Archdruid Halsin before we continue our journey. Nobody could come close to him in terms of knowledge-" Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"Nobody could come close to the information about the ghaik than us githyanki. You istik entertain such useless ideas." You roll your eyes at her. Before you could speak up, Shadowheart speaks to the githyanki.

"Yes. I'm sure your barbaric race would know much more." She says sarcastically. "I, on the other hand, would much rather any other option besides yours." Before Lae'zel could fight back, Karlach speaks to them both.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss already. Wasting time when we could be slaying goblins and getting closer to being free. Stop fucking around and listen to (Y/N)." You nod your head in appreciation to the tiefling.

"Besides, even if Archdruid Halsin does not know how to help us, he may offer his services regardless. Leaving him with the goblins is a fate worse than death. His ally-ship will be indispensable." This appeases those in the group who were unsure of your leadership.

"Always the cunning one, aren't you sweetheart." Astarion speaks up. You turn your head and wink.

"Let's push forward and assist in any way we can." Wyll speaks up. Gale nods, looking over our group.

"Let's be smart and proactive, we do not want to lose eachother, nor do we want to get caught. We shall stay in hiding for as long as possible. Stealth is the best way forward with our little information we have." Astarion taps your chin.

"I like you like this." You smirk at him before leading the group to the Goblin Camp.

After killing every goblin in the vicinity, you all venture forward to a cage where a bear is roaming.

"A bear. He was probably going to be goblin fodder." Astarion says, smirking.

"Hush. Poor thing was being attacked by these goblins." Karlach speaks to him, bumping her shoulder into Astarions. He gasps, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Careful. I bruise like a peach!" He tells her angrily. She chuckles.

"And you're just as bitter as a rotten tomato-" Astarion bristles. You cut him off.

"Settle down, girls. We have time for play later. Show some respect. That bear is our charge." You unlock the iron gate before walking in alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Gale says worriedly, but you shush him. When the bear makes eye contact with you, you see the gold swirling in his eyes. His mouth opens to show his sharp teeth, a warning.

You bow down infront of the bear, laying a hand out towards his snout.

"Are you sure that's... wise, sweetheart?" Astarion asks, concerned. You ignore him before speaking.

"Archdruid Halsin, it is my absolute honour to stand before you. We have come here to free you from your imprisonment and bring you back to the Emerald Grove. May Silvanus preserve us." Without a beat, the bear transforms into a tall, handsome, elf. Your eyes widen at his stature, but more at his beauty.

"Ah, a fellow druid. Silvanus has certainly looked upon me in favour. Thank you for assisting me." You realize you are still kneeling, at crotch level with the Archdruid. Your eyes flicker to his pelvis, and eyes widen at what you see. You rise to your full height, which makes you eye level with his chest. Your head tilts to look into his eyes, and notice him watching you, with a small smirk. He saw you gazing at him, how embarrassing.

"Of course, Archdruid Halsin." He shakes his head softly, braids swaying with the movement.

"Please, call me Halsin. My savior shouldn't have to call me by such a title." You nod, before looking over your shoulder at your companions. They are all looking at the tall elf in shock.

"He just- he just turned into a man!" Astarion says out loud. You chuckle.

"Yes. My preferred wild shape is a bear." He responds to the shorter elf, not looking away from you, glancing over you in curiousity. You turn back to look at him. Your eyes stay locked while you speak to your party.

"Let us leave. We will bring Halsin back to the Emerald Grove and then we can rest. I want to wash off this gods-awful goblin blood before it stains my armour." Everyone nods at that. They turn to walk out, ready to escort Halsin back. You follow your group, Gale and Wyll leading you all forward.

"Thank you, little flower. I truly appreciate you aiding me." Halsin whispers to you, matching your strides behind the group. Little flower... the nickname made you giddy. You blush softly, the heat reaching to the peaks of your ears.

"I can't leave a fellow druid behind. Especially with what those goblins were doing to you." You shake your head, looking over him and the dried blood that caked him from his wild shape form. He chuckles at your worried gaze.

"Nonetheless, the Oakfather has blessed me with your assistance. I am indebted to you for life." You turn to look at him, his easy smile and warm eyes making you feel something... magical.

"The Oakfather has blessed us many times anew. The air we breathe, the ground we walk upon, the forests. But alas, I did come to release you because we need your assistance-" His eyes widen lightly, before he looks down at you.

"What do you need, little flower?" The way he speaks to you is soft, unconcerned of the questions you will ask him. His caring nature speaks to the softest parts of you.

"I will ask you once we bring you to the Emerald Grove. However, I must warn you-" You stop walking and grab his arm. Holy hells his arms are buff. You must have paused for a moment too long.

"What is wrong?" You shake your head at your own thoughts. You're acting like a toddler, instead of the adult elf you are.

"At the Emerald Grove... Kagha is planning to do the Rite of Thorns, and is releasing all the Tiefling refugees..." Halsin's eyes almost bug out of his head.

"We must stop them! That rite does more harm than good! Those Tieflings... fleeing towards death. It is not right!" You tell him passionately. He takes your hand from off his arm and grips it in both his large hands.

" We will stop them, little one." You nod. He continues to hold your hand.

"The shadow curse has been on my mind for so long, I cannot believe I trusted such a-" He shakes his head, cutting himself off.

"We will continue our trek and once we stop the rite, I will tell you all you need to know." You bite your lip.

"If I could help carry your burdens, I would." He chuckles, a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm sure you would, little flower. Now, let us continue our journey. I appreciate you warning me." He lets go of your hand and waves his hand out, gesturing you to go forward, so you do. You can't help the chill that you feel when his hands release yours.

After stopping the rite, you did speak to Halsin about the tadpoles. He sighs when he says he cannot heal you of your affliction. A shiver of fear goes through your body. If someone as knowledgeable with healing like Halsin cannot heal you, you cannot imagine how to move forward. Its then that he tells you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be the key to assisting you in your journey. You bite your lip worriedly.

"I will continue to assist you. I will follow your party and do what I can. Not only for the cursed lands, but also for you." He says it with such conviction, such passion, you cannot help but feel safe and warmed from his sentiments.

"I feel indebted to you Halsin. Truly." He shakes his head.

"You will be helping me much more than I, you." You smile up at him. He cannot help but be captured by the radiance of your smile. Oakfather preserve him, you are the most beautiful of his creations.

"I will help you with this shadow curse. Take back nature and restore balance. I just hope I don't grow any tentacles in that time." You say humourlessly, your laugh hollow. He grabs your chin with his hand, his thumb stroking the side of your face.

"I promise on all of the Oakfather's creations, I will not let anything happen to you." Your eyes flutter, and you glance down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

"Thank you." You whisper to him. His attention is taken elsewhere, and his hand caresses down your neck before releasing you, and moving to the Tiefling asking for him.

You feel this feral need to have him, to help him. You're attracted to him, and you can tell this will be problematic. Oakfather preserve you.

That night, the Tieflings throw a party for you all. The music is loud, and you can see them enjoying themselves. You look over your companions and see all of them enjoying themselves; albeit in their own ways. While looking over the festivities, you see Halsin standing away, gazing over the festivities and people watching. Your eyes make contact and you blush.

"This wine tastes like goblin piss." Astarion tells you, gagging on the swig he just took. You chuckle at him, breaking eye contact with the handsome druid to look over at the vampire.

"Not your type of red drink?" You ask him flirtedly. He smirks at you and leans into you.

"No, sweetheart. My type of red is standing right next to me, as radiant as ever." His face gets close to your neck and he sniffs you deeply.

"All of a sudden, I am thirsting for something else." He tells you. You chuckle at his advances.

"Are you now?" You flirt back. He smirks down at you.

"You're much more fun to speak to like this, sweetheart. I can't help but want a taste." You giggle at him, before taking the wine from his hand and taking a couple mouthfuls.

"Oh gods it does taste like goblin's piss." You splutter out. He laughs at your turmoil.

"Oh darling, you make me laugh." He tells you. You grin at him.

"Glad my misfortunes bring you joy." He smiles at you, sharp teeth glinting in the campfire's light.

"Mm. The only thing that would bring me more joy in this moment is having a taste of you." His voice lowers to a whisper. You roll your eyes.

"Easy there. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're a bard, singing my praises so I could follow you to your tent for the night." You push his chest gently.

"I'm sure I can make you sing, sweetheart." He tells you, looking at you with a smirk.

"As much fun as we would have, I think you've had enough to drink." You tell him jokingly, waving the bottle of wine in his face. You take another swig, and swallow down the bitterness. You go to walk forward, the alcohol driving you to your destination; Halsin.

"Ah, my little flower! It seems you were having fun." Halsin tells you, smile on his face. The crease between his brows tells you that he'd much rather had been the one sniffing your neck, rather than Astarion. You feel a rush of confidence surge through you, aided by the alcohol in your system.

"I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere." You tell him confidently. He smirks at your words.

"Is that so? Well, I am honoured to have such attentions on me." He tells you in a whisper. You almost whimper at his words, feeling hot. You feel as though molten lava has replaced the blood in your veins, and the heat is centralized at the apex of your thighs. You rub them lightly, which catches the elder druid's attention.

"You could have much more than attentions on you tonight, Master Halsin." Your voice lowers to a whisper, and the effect is immediate. His eyes shine golden and his smile becomes wider, more primal. Just like in the Goblin Camp, it was a warning.

"Is that so, little flower? Are you offering yourself to me?" He asks you gently, taking a step forward. You are now flush with his body, and the carvings on his undershirt graze the peaks of your breasts deliciously, hardening them. You moan quietly, looking up at the gargantuan man through your eyelids.

"I'd like to explore you, Master Halsin. See if those rumours of your... generosity are true." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back. His fingers seem to tighten, digging softly into your skin.

"You seem to enjoy calling me by my honourifics." You hum, smirking at him.

"I'm just calling you by title. You would like to be my master, would you not?" He growls lowly, much like a bear would.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little one." He tells you huskily. You giggle at him.

"The only games I would like to play are with you, Master." In his eyes you can see him having an inner battle. You take the hand on your waist in yours, which snaps him out of his inner turmoil. The alcohol is rushing through you now, your (very little) inhibitions non-existent now. You pull it closer to your face, before taking a thick finger in your mouth and worshipping it. You kiss at the pad of his forefinger before licking it; inevitably taking it into your mouth and sucking on it softly. He watches you entranced, groaning softly as you let go of his finger with a pop. You take his hand in yours, and pull him towards the edge of the camp, leading to the forest. Once you find the small grove in the forest, you let go of his hand, spinning in place and enjoying the silence of nature. He stays at the edge of the tree line, watching you with sharp eyes.

"Little flower-" Halsin says softly. You turn to look at the man with a smile.

"Our worries are for dawn. With the moonlight shining on us, and the trees as our witness, I would like to show you the pleasures of the flesh, as nature intended." He groans loudly now, far enough from the camp that your voices would not carry.

"I'm afraid to lose myself. The beast-" You pull off your nightshirt, exposing your breasts in the moonlight. You then pull off your pants and undergarments in one shot, fully baring yourself to his sight. He inhales deeply, eyes looking at you up and down multiple times. You begin to to dance sensually, your hips seeming to beckon him forward. He takes a couple of uncertain steps.

"Halsin. I am not one so easily afraid of beasts. Let me help you forget your woes for a night." His resolve seems to crumble, and he runs to you, leaving you both chest to chest.

"Little flower, I will devour you-" You moan, pulling his hair to bring him to your lips. His chapped lips touch yours, and it feels as if there is magic flowing through your bodies. His hands find purchase under your thighs, lifting you up into him. Your legs wrap around his waist, and you moan into his mouth. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, persuading you to open your mouth to his. Your tongues find each other, and a battle of dominance begins. You lose easily, his gifted tongue prodding and licking at yours with wanton need. You release each other to inhale deeply. He inhales from his nose and groans.

"I can smell your need, little one." You whimper, looking into his eyes.

"You're overdressed, Master Halsin. Allow me to undress you." He lets you down out of his embrace, and you begin to untuck his sleepshirt out from his pants and over his head. You begin to untie his pants, helping him out of them as well. That's when you notice he is wearing no undergarments, and his cock is thick and long, closer to the length of your forearm. You whimper, falling to your knees and looking up at him.

"You don't need to please me-" You cut him off.

"I want your cock to hit the back of my throat until I am unable to speak." He moans loudly, before your hand grasps him at the shaft.

"The Oakfather blessed me with such a giving partner. I- Oh Silvanus-" You take him in your mouth, licking at the tip. You taste his musk, and he tastes like pine and mint, and something that makes you absolutely feral. Without a care for your own wellbeing, you try to swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and then some. He groans, eyes closing as one hand finding itself locked in your hair and the other forming a fist at his thigh.

"That's right little druid, take Master's cock into the back of your throat." His voice goes down an octave, and you feel a rush of slick leave you. Taking him out of your mouth, you kiss the shaft downward until you take his heavy balls in your mouth and suckle. You're panting with need, moaning into his skin. You let go of him, one hand stroking his cock and the other inching down your body to touch your cunt. He looks down at you then with hooded eyes, and moans again.

"Are you touching your needy cunt, little flower? I cannot wait to fill you with my seed until your entire being is satiated." You moan, needing him back in your mouth. You remove the hand on his shaft and deepthroat him again, only getting two thirds of his member into your mouth. You hear your need, the wet sounds coming from your pussy only arousing you further. He begins to thrust into your mouth and you choke on him. After making sure you were alright, he continues his movements, thrusts getting rougher. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you off his cock, as he growls.

"I will pound your quim until you are unable to walk without my healing, little one." His hands grip your upper arms and lifts you up to stand. Your face is smeared with his precum and your spittle. Once you are stable on your two feet, he kisses you passionately and you moan into him. His hands are touching you everywhere. His touch is searing hot. His hands find themselves at your breasts, rubbing and pinching the peaks of them.

"O-Oh Halsin. Don't stop." He chuckles into your ear.

"I'm not planning to stop until dawn shows itself." You whimper at his words, thrusting your chest deeper into his ministrations. You hear Halsin whisper before your hands are being pulled behind you, tightly grasped. Your feet are also held up, spreading your legs open. You notice that vines grew from the ground and are holding you up like a platter to Halsin.

"As much as I love your touch, little one, I don't want you to push me off when I get a taste of your ambrosia." You moan loudly, almost caterwauling for the elder druid.

His large hands caress up your leg, massaging the skin of your calves, before going higher.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do in this moment, little flower. You're exquisite; truly one of Silvanus' greatest creations." You blush, heaving.

"H-Halsin, please-" He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Don't fret, you will be chanting my name soon enough." His confidence is addicting, you could feel how drenched you were even with your legs spread so far apart. His hands finally reach close to your core, and he spreads your slit further open to look at you. You could feel your hole contracting, as if begging for an intrusion.

"By the gods... Look at your tight cunt begging for my cock. Can't wait to have a taste." You feel his breath on you. You look down and see him watching you, as his hands slide up to your breasts to play with your nipples like he had before. The first stroke of his tongue on your clit sent a sensation of pleasure up your spine. You struggle against your bonds, with an insatiable urge to grasp his hair and tug him deeper into you.

His tongue then ventures lower, tasting your essence. He moans loudly into your body, the vibrations of his moan pleasing you greatly. He continues licking you, tasting you as he tweaks your nipples, tugging before massaging. You felt powerless against the bonds, barely hearing anything more than the rush of blood in your ears.

"Your nectar... is just like honey. I can't wait to have you cum on my tongue multiple times." You moan. You can tell you're already close to your precipice, his words, moans and tongue vibrating and licking against your clit deliciously.

"Please... please Master Halsin-" He groans at the honourific. He plunges his tongue into you, lapping you at your source. His nose nudges your clit and that sets off your orgasm. You feel yourself leak onto him, his tongue cleaning your mess. You're shaking with oversensitivity, but he does not stop. One of the hands on your breast caress back down the length of your body, before he pulls away from your core. He grins up at you as he thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. He curls them, as you begin to shake harder.

"That's it, little one. Let all those in the forest know who is making you feel like this, making you cum and feel pleasure-" His words go straight to your core, and more of your slick leaks around his fingers.

"Halsin-H-Halsin- Oh GODS-" His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking at you. The attention was too much; you cum again. This time, you can feel much more than slick leave your body- did I squirt? You wonder to yourself, as your body is now lashing against the constraints. You didn't have much time to think about it, as he pulls his fingers out to taste you, moaning. You look down at him, panting. He spreads you open again, this time with both hands, before his tongue is back in you, tasting you like you were water and he was a man dehydrated. You whimper, begging him to give you reprieve. He pulls off of you, his mouth and chin covered in your release. He was panting, his eyes glowing a bright amber.

"You have no idea what you unleashed, little one." He growls out. You feel the vines dissipate. You're laid on the forest ground gently. Before he could move, you flip yourself over with enthusiasm, laying your upper body parallel to the floor and your lower body in the air. You wiggle your ass, one of your hands going between your legs and spreading yourself open. You look over your shoulder and look him directly in the eye. He is watching you with wonder, before you speak.

"Breed me, Master Halsin. Empty your seed in me and fuck me into a stupor." He growls, before kneeling behind you.

"I'll make sure you can't walk for weeks, little one. I'll spread you nice and good." You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down your slit, gathering your juices.

"Look how wet you are. Such a good little druid for me." You whimper at his words. Without warning he thrust into you, going to the hilt. His heavy balls hit against your clit, and your mouth goes open in a silent scream. He begins a brutal pace, pounding into you. One of his hands reach around your body, his large hand grasping your neck. His hold is tight, but not painfully so. You feel lightheaded, all your senses being overwhelmed by the Archdruid. You feel as though your floating, the only thing tying you to this plane of existence is the continuous thrusts from the elf behind you. You felt as though you were split open repeatedly, his cock reaching places in you that you were unsure existed before today. He growls as he pounds into you, and you begin to feel claws against your neck, before they retract.

"You make me feral, little one. I'm gonna fill you with my seed, fill you with pups." You moan, breathless. His thrusts begin to falter, but they seem to go deeper. You feel yourself fluttering around him, as you gasp.

"I-I'm close." You whisper to him. He groans.

"I feel you fluttering around me, little one." He chokes out. After a handful of thrusts he cums with a shout, and you constrict around him, cumming once more. You feel his seed in you, so abundant that it leaks out around him. You both pant for a couple seconds. He releases your neck and you gasp an inhale.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks you softly. You shake your head enthusiastically.

"N-no. Oh gods Halsin. I am unsure how I will walk right ever again." You tell him breathlessly. He chuckles at that, caressing your back and thighs with gentleness. You feel him slowly pull out of you, taking care to not punish your core anymore. You whimper at the loss, feeling your mixed spend leaking out of you. He flips you over softly, wanting to look you over. His hand goes to finger you lazily. You shriek, body seizing up.

"Not a drop goes to waste." He tells you huskily. After a couple moments, he pulls his fingers out too, and directs them to your mouth. You suckle on the digits, the taste arousing you once more. You both look into each other's eyes as you did this. Once he removes his fingers from your mouth, his lips replace it, tasting both of you on his tongue. He groans into your lips. You kiss for a couple moments, before you both need to separate so you could inhale. You felt utterly spent. He goes to lie down next to you, and your eyes follow him.

His hands begin to massage your sore muscles, before pulling you onto him. You felt utterly spent. He holds you into a lover's embrace and you can't help but sigh into his chest, caressing his pectorals and cuddling into him. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a trail soft pecks and kisses. You both lay there, absorbing the beauty of nature and speaking about your lives before the parasite and the shadow curse until the sun rose.

END

[strangersteddierthings]

Shovel Talk(s) Part 2

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Nobody in the history of the world has ever referred to Eddie as jubilant but that was certainly the best word for him currently. Eddie has survived the apocalypse (even if barely), been proven innocent for the murders (the Upside Down exploding into Hawkins helped), and he has a boyfriend. It makes Eddie feel like he's floating.

Steve drops him off, walks him up to the porch, and gives him the sweetest kiss goodbye. Eddie doesn't go inside right away because he wants to watch Steve as he leaves and maybe blow him an exaggerated kiss as he drives away.

"Glad that boy finally did something about how pathetic you were being," Wayne says in lieu of a greeting when Eddie finally slips in the front door and into the living room, plopping himself on the other end of the sofa, dragging one of the throw pillows that came with the couch into his lap to clutch onto. Ground him, because he's still floating.

"I was not being pathetic!" Eddie is scandalized.

Wayne lets out a wistful sigh and says, in a poor imitation of Eddie's voice, "when will Steve end my suffering and notice me."

Eddie lunges across the couch with the pillow in hand, whacking Wayne with every word he speaks, while also trying to dodge Wayne trying to grab the pillow from him, "I do not sound like that!"

Wayne tricks him into thinking the pillow is his only goal and before he realizes what's happening, Wayne has him in a headlock, dragging both of them off the couch as he stands, giving Eddie the gentlest noogie of his life. "I think I know how you sound, hearin' you bellyache for the last 13 years. I've had to hear your relentless sighing and bemoaning about Steve for at least six of 'em."

Eddie beats him with the pillow more until Wayne releases the headlock and then they wrestle until his uncle fakes hurt, so Eddie backs down quickly, and Wayne steals the pillow and beats him back onto the couch until Eddie yields.

"That was dirty fighting, old man," Eddie says when he finally stops laughing enough to catch his breath.

"What was it you used to tell me, when I said you were fightin' dirty?" Wayne asks, "Scrappy."

"Oh, is that what you think you are?" Eddie swings at Wayne's knee half-heartedly. Wayne flings himself across the room and into the recliner there like Eddie shoved him. "Oh, you big baby."

"You're awfully callus about bullying your old man," Wayne chuckles and settles into the recliner, popping the leg rest out. "Now, tell me about your boy. He was a gentleman to you?"

Eddie pouts, "Unfortunately, yes. One chaste kiss and then he was off."

"Smart boy."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "What's the supposed to mean?"

"Means I scare him."

"What."

"That a question or a statement, son?" Wayne looks awfully smug over in his chair.

"What do you mean you scare him?"

"Just gave him the good ole father shovel talk. Y'know? Hurt my boy and I'll make you disappear," Wayne says.

"You terrible old man!" Eddie throws his pillow at him but Wayne bats it out of the air. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be your fault!"

Wayne just shrugs. "Fine by me."

"You are the worst."

-

Eddie can't make his leg stop jiggling. He feels sorry for Nancy, who is sharing the bench seat with him because he's sure that it's shaking the whole bench. He's filled with energy and doesn't know what to do with it.

Robin sits across from them, finishing up the last of her milkshake as they wait for the to go order they're going to drop off for Steve, who is stuck at Family Video for another five hours. He was supposed to be here, too, but Keith called him asking him to cover and he'd said yes. Eddie wishes he hadn't. This was Lunch Date Day.

"Are you still upset Steve took an extra shift?" Nancy asks. "Even though you know he's just going to spend the extra money on you?"

Eddie's pouting, voice whiny as he says, "I'd rather he be heeeerrrrrrrre."

"It's disgusting how in love you are," Robin says, shoving the now completely empty milkshake glass away.

Eddie's leg stops shaking because he full on freezes. "Uh."

"Are you afraid of saying the L-word? You are not subtle in showing it," Nancy says, ever the traitor, "but luckily Steve's just as smitten."

"You don't know that," Eddie says, arguing for the sake of arguing. He doesn't believe he likes Steve more than Steve likes him. He's pretty sure they're on an even playing field.

"Yeah, I do. I threatened to shoot him if he hurt you and he didn't even flinch. He'd have taken the bullet for you."

"You did what!?" Robin yelps. She's looking at Nancy like she's grown a second head.

"I didn't even bring a gun with me! Besides, Steve knows I didn't mean it," Nancy says with a wave of her hand, "it was just an obligation thing. You have to threaten your best friend's significant other. The whole conversation was like, 30 seconds tops."

"I'm your best friend!?" Eddie gasps, faking surprise. They have become good friends. She'd taken it upon herself to make sure he did get to graduate with Robin and herself, and they did form a sort of friendship from that. Also, from being the collective third wheel to Steve&Robin, which is enough to make people come together. Neither of them truly thinks of the other as their best friend, but it's fun to joke about their own Capitol with a P Platonic Friendship around Steve and Robin, as they become rather bitchy and defensive about their own friendship.

It's hilarious every time.

"Well, it's you or Argyle, and I don't think Jonathan wants to share his best friend, so...."

"Cold, Wheeler. Cold."

Nancy rolls her eyes and looks over to Robin. "Are you telling me you haven't given Eddie the shovel talk?"

Robin frowns as she thinks before her eyes widen in shock and she gasps, "I think I accidentally gave Steve a shovel talk instead."

Eddie bursts out laughing, "Robin, how the fuck did you end up accidentally giving a shovel talk to your own best friend?"

"I just told him to, like, be careful with you."

"Careful with me?" Eddie asks, a little incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Robin is going on the defensive, now. Eddie can see that in the way she squares her shoulders before saying, "it was said after your first date! Steve's had a lot of those, and you hadn't. I just- I dunno, wanted him to see the importance of that."

"So, what, you told him you'd shoot him if he hurt me, like Wheeler here?"

"No! I never said I'd hurt him for hurting you. I just said that he should be careful with you because, as your first boyfriend, if, and I did mean if, you don't work out, it's like... he's setting the precedent for how boyfriends should treat you. What you'll put with with, y'know?"

"That's sweet-" Nancy starts but Eddie's speaking over her just a quickly.

"Robin, that's stupid. I'm a fucking adult. If I'm not being treated how I want to be treated, I'll tell Steve," Eddie huffs. "You can trust that I say what I mean."

"Can I?" Robin shoots back. "Just like when you promised to get the fuck outta dodge and instead went on a suicide mission that ended very, very badly for you?"

"That was different, Buckley," Eddie hisses at her, sitting up straight to lean more across the table, trying to get in her face, "there was a lot of shit happening, and no way out that I saw. It's called trauma!"

It seems that a defensive Robin goes straight for the jugular because she hisses back, "No, actually, I think it's called survivors guilt and suicidal ideation. You know what, I should be giving you a shovel talk! 'Cause I don't fully trust you to not hurt Steve, either by lying or running once things get rough. You don't-"

"OKAY!" Nancy shouts, startling both of them into silence with one word. "We are in an, admittedly very empty, diner but still a very public diner, so let's not. Robin, you're not Steve's mom, it's not on you to look out for who is going to hurt him or-"

"You do not get to speak to me about hurting him," Robin points an accusing finger at Nancy. For all the anger she seemed to have for Eddie just now, he can see that it's almost doubled for Nancy. "I wasn't Steve's friend when you hurt him, but don't think I don't know every detail."

He knows this story, too. Had gotten it out of Steve one night, weeks ago now, when they'd been passing a joint back and forth on Eddie's bed. Before Eddie can pipe up, not that he knows what he'd say anyway, the waitress returns with the to go box and the check.

"It's my turn to pay," Nancy says, snatching the check before it touches the table, following hot on the waitress's heels to the register.

"Ugh," Robin flings herself against the back of the bench, both hands coming up to hide her face. From beneath her hiding place, she says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. What I said was unfair, and uncalled for."

"We're cool, Robin," Eddie says, "I forget how much of a buffer for our anxieties Steve is until we all hang out without him. He's able to defuse an argument before it happens."

"Oh, don't word it like that," Robin drops her hands and slides out of the booth, scooping up the to go box in the process," it makes Steve sound like the emotionally mature one."

They all climb into Nancy's car and apologies are said but Eddie feels like the next time Steve can't make it, they'll all bail on the weekly lunch. They're just a bunch of traumatized young adults and Steve is the heart of them, the person that bonds them outside the shit they went through. And maybe they should figure out a better way to deal with this than just pretending it didn't happen but- well, the world just kept moving on and they had to either move with it or get left behind.

-

It's two weeks after Eddie and Steve accidentally told the Hellfire crew they were a couple, which is why Eddie is not expecting it when Erica and Lucas corner him. He was expecting to be cornered by someone last week.

They'd been taking longer to pack up than usual, and that should have tipped Eddie off that something was up.

"Munson," Erica says in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, face unamused. For sharing no biology with Steve, Eddie finds the resemblance uncanny. "I need you to understand that you might be my Dungeon Master, but Scoops Troop will always trump that, so if you fuck this up with Steve, you will have to answer to me."

Eddie gives a soft grin in response, amused, "no worries, Lady Applejack. I have no plans to fuck this up."

Erica's eyes flick to Lucas, then back to Eddie. "I mean it, Munson. I have it on good authority that sometimes you hurt people and then you don't try to right it. You just move on-"

"Erica, stop it," Lucas says, voice a little panicked.

But Erica continues, because nothing ever seems to phase her, "and Steve and Lucas are alike in that way. So just know that if you hurt Steve like you hurt Lucas-"

"Erica!"

"I will end you. I will ruin your life, Munson-"

"Erica, STOP!" Lucas finally steps forward, yanking on Erica's arm to get her to stop talking. It makes her stumble a bit before rounding on Lucas. "Stop it."

"No!" Erica glares at her brother as she removes his hand from her arm. "Go outside if you don't want to hear it."

They stare each other down and Eddie's not sure what he should be doing. Should he step in? He grew up an only child, is this normal sibling behavior? But he doesn't have to step in because Lucas huffs and storms out of the house, front door clicking softly behind him even though Eddie expected him to slam the door.

"Now, you," Erica whirls around to Eddie, "do you understand what I'm saying?"

Eddie does not. He's fairly certain he's getting a shovel talk from a twelve-year-old and while amusing, he senses there's more to it than just his relationship with Steve. "You're threatening me on Steve's behalf?"

Erica scoffs and rolls her eyes like she thinks Eddie's an idiot. He's starting to think he might be. "Yes, I am but also more. Your relationship has been the hot topic these days, and my brother brought up a good point but he's too nice to say it, so I will. When school starts, if Steve wants to take you to a basketball game, even though they fall on Hellfire night, you postpone the damn game and you go. No matter how much you hate basketball or jocks or- or... other things." She loses steam at the end, eyes flicking to the door.

"What?" Eddie is even more confused, "I don't hate basketball. And if Steve asks, I'm not going to say no, okay? I care about Steve. A lot."

Erica frowns, which contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to ruin you, Munson."

"Is there... more to it?"

It takes Erica maybe three seconds to decide what she's going to say. Just long enough for her to look at the door, then back to Eddie. "You owe my brother an apology."

"Uh, sure, I'll apologize but for what?"

"Remember the basketball championship and the last session of the Vecna campaign that you wouldn't postpone so Lucas could play? You never apologized," Erica crosses her arms, another move reminiscent of Steve, before continuing, "You didn't apologize, and Lucas thought that it was because he's a jock, and you hate jocks. But now you're dating Steve and he's a jock. So, if you don't hate jocks, Lucas thinks you just hate him."

"What, no, I don't hate Lucas!"

"Then tell him that!" Erica glares at him, "and let this be a little lesson for you. Going forward if you hurt either of my brothers, intentionally or not, you can kiss the tires on your van goodbye."

Eddie tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and goes outside to apologize, because Lucas deserves to hear it.

Then, once the Sinclairs are gone and Eddie's back in his room, he runs through every conversation he can remember having with Steve. Has he dismissed things Steve liked too easily, too often? Has he said anything offhandedly that could be taken the wrong way without explanation?

Eddie's was an only child and didn't have to grow up worrying about anyone but himself. He made himself an outcast and shunned the 'norm' by choice. Doing so didn't exactly let him learn the social graces of patience and understanding.

It's eye opening, to learn that a decision he made months ago without a second thought has been hurting Lucas this whole time.

Has he ever done that to Steve, and not known it?

-

Steve's been distant these past few days and no matter how many times Eddie asks, Steve's answer doesn't change. I'm fine he says. I'm fine. Just fine. It's fine.

Except nothing feels fine. And Eddie doesn't understand the sharp change. They've got a date planned for tonight. Neither of them has specifically said it out loud, because it's sappy and stupid, but it marks three full months as official boyfriends. So, they've got a date planned, but Eddie's worried how it might end.

Eddie's been floating these last three months, but he suddenly feels grounded. He can't fix whatever happened if Steve won't tell him what it was! And in the absence of actual answers, Eddie's mind has invented his own.

Steve's realized that Eddie's not good enough for him. Steve's realized that he's actually straight, but thanks for the experimentation. Steve's found someone else and is working on how to break up with Eddie without blowing up their friend group in the process.

And Eddie hates himself for thinking these things. For projecting his own insecurities onto a version of Steve that doesn't exist. Eddie's gotten to know Steve.

Or he thought he had.

But now he's pulling away. And the only person he knows he can talk to about dating Steve is Nancy and he can't do that! He can't just go to Nancy's house and ask 'so when you were dating Steve and it was all going down the drain, was he distant or is that just a me thing?'

Fuck. Fuck!

He runs his hands through his hair and regrets it as his curls tangle around the rings on his hands. He should brush his hair, be getting ready, but he's procrastinating that because he can't decide if he's going all out, making himself look his best to see if it'll bring some life back into Steve's eyes when he looks at him, or if he shouldn't try at all and see if Steve even notices he's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday.

And it's bullshit that he's even thinking about testing Steve. Not two months ago he and Robin had argued in that diner about whether he's talk to Steve about these kind of things or not and now he was kind of proving her right. Except not, because he did try to talk! Steve just didn't answer when he questioned, and you can't really build a conversation from nothing.

Fuck! He should have known this would happen. That he would fall in love and Steve wouldn't love him back because that's always been his lot in life.

Oh.

Oh no.

He's been avoiding thinking it because once it's been thought, once it's solidified in his mind, it's true. And now he's thought it!

He's in love with Steve Harrington.

And isn't it just fuckin' peachy that this realization doesn't accompany happy feelings. He's in love and can't even be happy about it because he's so fucking sure his relationship is ending tonight.

[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one • part two (you are here) •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people

"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"

I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.

"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.

"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.

I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.

"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.

The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.

I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."

Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.

I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.

"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.

"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.

"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.

This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.

I snicker.

Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.

"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.

He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.

"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.

"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.

"I have no idea."

I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.

"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.

Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.

"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.

"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.

"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."

I shrug.

"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.

✮•

"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.

"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.

"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."

I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.

I groan inwardly.

This thing again.

I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.

He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.

Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.

"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.

"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.

I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.

"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"

He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.

"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"

"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.

"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.

Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.

"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"

"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.

I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.

"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.

"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"

"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.

"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.

"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.

Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.

"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"

We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.

Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.

"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.

"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"

"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.

Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"

Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.

He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"

"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"

Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.

He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."

Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.

"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.

"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.

"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.

"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."

"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.

Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.

"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"

He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.

"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.

Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.

"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"

"The fate of the multi-verse-"

"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."

Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.

Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.

"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.

"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.

"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"

"That's insulting."

Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"

Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.

I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.

"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."

"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.

"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"

I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.

"Woah."

Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.

"What's this?" He breathes out.

"This, is everything."