#i should know i’ll only get in trouble if i’m caught | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solarmorrigan · 1 month

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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #cw child abuse #referenced but does not take place in the fic #cw panic attack #even if it doesn't look like one at first #soft ending though as always I promise

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marxo-fm · 2 months

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Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Catholic parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his toned dad bod was the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

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victoria-grimesss · 10 months

Text

locked on target

masterlist

->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.

->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation.

->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.

It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground.

“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.

“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck.

Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.

Then there’s Ghost.

He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained.

I mean who wouldn’t.

From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more.

You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them.

—

You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.

“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.

“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”

He laughs.

“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?”

You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.

“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.

You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.

“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.

“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.

“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.

“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”

You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.

“Really? You think so?”

“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”

—

“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.

You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.

“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.

“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good.

He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.

“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.

Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.

“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.

“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”

“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.

“Yea, for sure LT.”

You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.

You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.

“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?”

Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.

Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.

—

Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation.

A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.

The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.

3:18 a.m.

You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight.

The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.

“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.

“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.

Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable.

“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.

“The usual, nightmares again. You?”

“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”

“I understand.”

You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.

He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.

“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.

You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.

His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What if I do?”

Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.

He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.

“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”

“What do I want Simon?”

His lips grow sealed when you say his name.

“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”

His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.

You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.

The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.

Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.

—

“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.

A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.

“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…

You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.

“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.

Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.

“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”

You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.

“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”

He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair,

“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”

You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.

“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?”

Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.

“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”

You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.

“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”

You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.

“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?”

Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.

“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.

“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.

“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.

Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.

“What do you all say to a game of pool?”

“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.

“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.

“Very well, see you momentarily.”

Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.

He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.

“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.

“Not exactly.” He delfates.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”

“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.”

Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.

You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.

“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.

“I was looking for you actually.”

He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.

“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”

You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.

“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”

“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-

“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”

It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.

“Y/N.”

“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”

He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.

“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”

You sniff, the cold getting to you.

“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”

Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.

“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”

“Even better.” You smile.

“Fuck it.”

Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.

He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.

He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.

“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.

“Yea, yea it is.”

He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.

“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”

“You did just now love.”

Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.

He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.

“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”

You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.

“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”

“Very.”

Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.

“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”

Hypnotized you speak.

“Yes please.”

His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.

The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.

“You have a nice place.”

“Well now I know you’re lying.”

You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent.

“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”

He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.

“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”

“Ghost.”

“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”

“Fuck Simon.”

“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.

He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.

“So fucking good love fuck.”

He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.

You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.

“Simon.”

“Yea?”

“Do something.”

“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.

“Anything Simon!”

He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.

“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”

His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla.

He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.

“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?”

He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.

He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.

You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.

“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”

He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.

You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I can take it, just hurry up.”

“You’re always so impatient you know that.”

He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.

The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.

“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”

His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.

He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.

He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.

“So good, fuck so big Simon.”

“You take it so well, love.”

His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.

“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”

You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.

“Alright c’mon love.”

He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.

“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.”

His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.

“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.

“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”

He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.

“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”

He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.

You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.

“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”

The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.

“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”

The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.

“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”

“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”

Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time.

You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.

“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.

You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.

You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.

You laugh.

“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.”

He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.

“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”

“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”

“Your place works too.”

You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.

You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.

He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.

“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”

“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”

There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.

“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”

“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”

He sips his beer,

“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”

You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.

---

Tag list: @theredviolets

2K notes · View notes

mviswidow · 4 months

Text

more than you know

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Nat and R get high together & fuck (a tiny bit of fluff at the end)

Content Warnings: NSFW!! switch!natasha; oral; fingering; marijuana use

A/N: i don't write smut often but i'm hoping this is good🫠

“I’ll take another hit,” Natasha murmurs after a couple minutes of silence, and you nod in response, taking your cart out of your pocket and handing it over.

“Thanks.”

You manage to look away from the window that held a beautiful view of the city’s skyline that had captivated you both and look over to Natasha, who was just as beautiful (if not more). You watch her inhale, her tolerance is impressive since she doesn’t seem to smoke often.

“Are you like a secret stoner or something?” You probe, turning to sit facing her, sinking further into the couch.

“I used to smoke when I got back from missions for a couple months but I started to get a little dependent on it so I only smoke weed when I’m offered now. For the most part.”

You hum in acknowledgement, “I have to smoke to get to sleep every once in a while.”

Natasha lazily turns her head in your direction, it urges you to continue.

“It’s usually when I don’t have missions that I have the most trouble getting sleep. I’m less exhausted and my mind kind of just goes everywhere and I get stressed - it becomes a lot to handle sober sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” she nods, a sad smile on her face.

There’s a lull between the two of you and you study her face. Her eyes look a little squinty but they shine in the darkness nonetheless; her cheeks are tinged a gentle pink color that’s difficult to make out. You’re in a bit of a trance, letting your eyes gaze upon Natasha as you did the city’s skyline - refusing to miss any details.

The corners of her full lips quirk up into a real smile and she shakes her head, feeling slightly scrutinized by your gaze but knowing better than to believe that you mean for her to feel that way, “What?”

“I’m just looking at you,” you say, as if you’d looked at her that way many times before. (You have, she’s just never caught you.)

“Why?” her brows pinch together.

“I want to. You’re beautiful.”

Natasha’s cheeks are a deeper pink now. Her pupils are dilated and her lips part as she glances down to your own.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this with you,” she says, and it sounds like she’s reprimanding herself.

“But you want to?” you hum, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised.

“More than you know.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” she rasps, pulling you in by the back of your neck and crashing your lips together.

Her lips are softer than you could have imagined but Natasha is rough, eager to explore every inch of you.

You moan at the sensation of her tongue in your mouth and it spurs her on. She kisses you feverishly and you try to keep up. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing discomfort between your legs.

Natasha bites and pulls at your bottom lip for a quick moment before moving to attack your neck. Your hand comes up to her hair and gets lost in her red tresses, rolling your hips into hers on instinct when you feel her nip at your pulse point.

She hums in satisfaction at your reaction and is quick to situate her thigh in between your legs, giving you some friction.

You suddenly feel her warm fingertips underneath your shirt, ghosting up your torso. They graze the bottom of your breast as she leans back up to kiss you once again, “You’re gorgeous.”

Natasha is more gentle this time and she smiles against your lips when your breath hitches in response to her finding your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and tugging.

“Nat, please,” you gasp when she pinches your nipple, your brain fuzzy from your high and your arousal.

“What do you want, detka?” she murmurs, lifting your shirt over your head. She almost moans at the sight of you.

Her hot mouth connects with your nipple with haste and your breath leaves you.

Nat chuckles before sucking a hickey on your breast, “C’mon, baby. You can tell me.”

“I need you,” you whimper. “Fuck me, please, Nat.”

She groans against your chest and tugs your sweatpants off. Her hand finds its place between your thighs quickly and you arch into her when she enters you with two fingers.

“God, yes,” you pant, head thrown back as your nails dig into her shoulder.

You can see the satisfaction on Nat’s face as she watches you desperately buck your hips to meet her fingers as they thrust into you. She can’t believe how wet you are for her and it only makes her go faster.

“Can’t be too loud, detka,” she warns you after noticing you’d become pretty loud, drunk off her fingers. “Don’t want to wake anyone up.”

Natasha leans down to kiss you once again, muffling the expletives and moans that had been leaving your mouth.

You’re sure that your lips will be bruised in the morning but you can’t bring yourself to care because you feel so good. Natasha’s fingers are curling inside you at a fast and steady pace and you know it won’t be long until you’re cumming on her fingers.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth and you’re biting it so hard you think you may bleed.

All you can do is pull Nat closer to you as you throw your head back in ecstasy. She knows you’re close when she starts feeling your muscles clenching, “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat.

You whine as Natasha works you through your orgasm. She won’t stop until she’s milked as much of it as she can, “That’s it, detka.”

Once you’ve stilled, she removes her fingers from inside of you. You can barely form a thought as you watch her suck her fingers clean before she takes another hit of your cart and blows it up into the air.

Watching her lights a fire inside of you and before you know it, you’re pushing her back on the couch and stripping her of her shorts.

You can tell that her head is swimming from the hit she just took and how fast you’re moving but you don’t give her time to react. You quickly pull down her panties and situate yourself between her legs.

You want to spend time kissing as much of her thighs as you can, but Natasha tangles her fingers in your hair, pushing you down to where she wants you and leaving no room for argument.

You don’t find time to be bothered because all you want right now that you’re in front of her is to hear the beautiful sounds that she makes while you’re bringing her to her climax.

You moan as you lap up the wetness that has collected between her lips, making her hips rut forward.

Nat’s brows knit together when you start to circle her clit with your tongue. Your eyes are glued to her beautiful face as she whimpers quietly, mouth open in pleasure.

Her thighs feel delicious, tightening around your head, and you think this must be what heaven is like.

Upon entering Natasha with a finger, her heel begins to dig into your back, urging you impossibly closer.

“More, please,” she croaks, and who are you to deny her of what she wants?

Nat is reduced to moans when you enter her with another finger and the only thing she seems to remember how to say is your name. You couldn’t be happier.

You pay extra attention to her clit, alternating between sucking and flattening your tongue to give her as much friction as possible as she practically rides your face.

Without warning, Natasha throws her head back, red fiery hair splaying out on the couch, and lets out a long, low moan. Her fingers tighten in your hair and she holds you in place as she rides out her orgasm.

When she releases your hair, you lick her clean before coming up to kiss her slowly, letting her taste herself on your tongue.

You break away to look at her, really just wanting to admire how beautiful she is for a minute, but you notice that she looks a little sad all of a sudden.

“What is it?” You whisper with haste, now worried that you did something wrong.

“Please tell me this isn’t the last time I get to kiss you.”

You smile in relief, “It won’t be, I promise.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #switch!natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow smut #mcu smut #wlw #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson smut

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

Annie always knew there would come a day where Eddie got in bigger trouble than his charm could get him out of. She just didn’t think it’d be false murder accusations.

The explanation Hopper, who shouldn’t even be alive, gave her and Wayne seemed ludicrous at best, but who was she to argue with the Chief of Police if it meant her baby boy would avoid prison.

It still didn’t add up, even when the kids who visited him backed it up with their own witness statements, or when Steve Harrington of all people cried while explaining that he saved their lives and everyone should be thanking him.

And she loved her boy, thought he was a gift to her and the world, but she knew that he still had some of his daddy in him and those were stronger genetics than she cared to admit out loud. Wayne silently agreed.

When Eddie woke up, he couldn’t quite talk, the bites on his face and neck causing some minor nerve damage that the doctors assured them all would heal up just fine. He listened though, always smiled the best he could when the kids came by, silently held Robin’s hand in his when she would ramble on for what felt like hours. But he got squirmy when Steve visited.

Luckily, Steve didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. And maybe he didn’t think it was unusual. Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to sit still before all this. Maybe this is just what Steve expected.

Eventually, Eddie woke up and tried talking and managed to move his mouth enough to be understood. It was still a little painful, and some words were harder than others to form, but he managed. Every day got easier.

But he also got squirmier.

Annie wasn’t around as much once he could talk, had to get back to work so she could start working on replacing their clothes and maybe Eddie’s guitar. She came by every morning, made sure he had people with him all day, and then came by after her shift to have dinner with him. He didn’t get to eat anything except soft foods, but she always made sure to bring his hot sauce to make it as edible as possible.

Steve was always there when she got there.

Always.

Sitting next to Eddie’s bed, relaxed, usually talking, but sometimes just sitting in silence as Eddie read his book silently to himself.

Eddie squirmed even while reading, but only while Steve was around.

“Okay, kiddo. What the hell’s goin’ on? Is Steve makin’ you uncomfortable?”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“No! He’s great. I’m glad he visits.”

“Then why the hell can’t ya sit still when he’s here?”

Eddie looked guilty, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel cornered. Cornered people did stupid things in her experience.

“I just have to keep trying not to hold his hand.”

Now Annie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“You mean…?”

Eddie nodded sadly.

“Does he…?”

Eddie shook his head.

“You sure?”

Eddie sighed.

“I think Robin would’ve told me when she came out to me.”

“Hm. Or maybe she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah right. I think she knows the last time he dropped a pen on the ground. They’re ridiculous. You’ve seen them.”

Annie nodded. She had. And she’d even considered at first that they were together until she really watched Robin talk, listened to the way she referred to Steve, caught on to what she was really saying.

“Maybe Steve doesn’t even know.”

Eddie changed the subject and Annie let him. It wasn’t her business in the end, not if it wasn’t hurting Eddie, and a little crush wouldn’t kill him.

But another few days passed, the doctor gave him a date for when he’d be able to leave, and Steve was quick to offer help with bringing him home.

Of course, home right now was a motel room with iffy AC and a shower that didn’t have enough water pressure to water a plant, but the offer was nice.

“I meant home with me. Until you guys find a place. You guys can get a spare key to visit and check in. I don’t have a job right now so I’ll be home anytime I’m not volunteering.”

Annie and Wayne shared a look as Eddie silently begged them to agree.

The crush would maybe kill him after all, but he was an adult and had to be trusted with his own heart.

“Okay, but we’re coming to help get you settled.”

Steve and Eddie nodded.

Steve patted Eddie’s hand, held it for a bit longer than what one would consider strictly friendly, before excusing himself to call Joyce to make sure he could borrow the wheelchair she still had from when Jonathan broke his leg years ago.

“That was awful nice of him.”

“Don’t.”

So Annie didn’t.

“I’d say the boy’s got a crush on ya, Ed.”

Eddie glared at Wayne.

“Don’t start either.”

Wayne held his hands up, smirked, and said his goodbyes so he could head to work.

Sure enough, when it was time to bring Eddie home, Steve went above expectations. He made sure he had a wheelchair and a walker just in case Eddie was stubborn, he’d made up his guest room with fresh sheets and posters Eddie would like, even arranged for the kids to set up some of their DnD mini figures on the desk for decoration.

Annie didn’t say anything.

When she visited, Steve was always busy cooking or cleaning or taking care of Eddie or making sure the kids had rides where ever they needed to go. He was a regular old mother hen and Eddie watched it all with a fondness Annie didn’t think could be hidden.

Three weeks after he got home, she stopped by to bring Eddie a new pair of jeans she’d found at the store, the last of his size.

The house was quiet, and it was almost enough to worry her.

She slowly checked the downstairs rooms, her heart racing at the thought that something could’ve happened to both of them.

She rushed upstairs, unsure of any room except for Eddie’s designated space. She took a chance on the door on the right and immediately felt a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

Steve and Eddie were both starfished across Steve’s bed, limbs overlapping and faces smooshed close together. She could see Eddie’s hand twitching every few seconds, a new thing that came with some of the nerve damage to his arm, and he eventually bunched Steve’s shirt up in his fingers.

Steve smiled in his sleep, scooting closer and draping his arm completely over Eddie’s back.

Annie back away and slowly closed the door behind her.

When she got back to Wayne, she just handed over the $5 bill in her pocket.

“In Steve’s room?” He asked, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

“In his bed.”

“Damn. Clothes on?”

Annie smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yes! And they better stay on until I approve of Steve officially.”

“Yeah, right. Good luck preachin’ that to your son.”

“What’s that mean?”

Wayne looked over the top of the newspaper for a moment before continuing to read.

“At least neither of them can get pregnant.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Annie Munson #mama Munson #wayne munson #headcanon

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Note

Hey, you can do something like peter x fem!reader are dating could be fluff or smutt or both, i don't care love your writing <3

w: period/blood talk, small mention of suicidal thoughts but nothing explicit!

It’s been a good run.

You and Peter had a great year and a half relationship, it sucks you won’t make it until the second year. It was close too, you were actually in a year and an eight month relationship.

Or, you used to be. Not anymore, the only way this ends is with getting dumped or ending your life. You’ve been eyeballing the bathtub for half an hour thinking about the best way to waterboard yourself.

It was all Peter’s fault.

He’s easier to blame right now because he’s passed out in snooze town, blissfully unaware of the hazardous waste material seeping into his bedsheets. It was a surprise, you weren’t supposed to get your period yet. Although that is a risk you take when you switch birth control pills, and that makes this your boyfriend's fault. Because if he wasn’t so delicious and tempting you wouldn’t need birth control, or to change them and therefore would’ve never bled on his sheets.

Oh god.

You bled on his sheets.

You’ve been blinking back tears since you discovered it. It was a jumpstart, you thought you really had to pee but felt an uncomfortable slick. You know what it was, you prayed you caught it in time, you failed. It was soaked into his sheets, dots on the comforter and it soiled your pajama pants, let alone your underwear.

You choked back a heavy breath and blankly stepped to the bathroom where you were stuck with no clothes, you settled for resting a pad in your underwear until you gathered the balls to wake your boyfriend and have him throw his disgust in your face.

Peter’s never been mean or shy about your period, but it’s another thing to be woken up by it. Especially if your girlfriend cuddled you and left a stain on the side of your white shirt.

Your lower lip wobbles, you hold a hand over your mouth to help stop the sobs.

Your head whipped to the bathroom door when you heard three light taps, “baby?”

You played silent, it was dumb. He knows you’re in here and he knows you’re awake and he knows you’ve ruined his bedsheets and shirt.

“You okay?” His tone is gentle, he can empathize how embarrassing this is for you. He doesn’t mind one bit, he just wants to know you’re okay and not thinking he’s upset.

“Yeah.” A squeak, he pursed his lips on the other side.

“Need anything to wear?”

And that did it for you.

You sob hard, in an instant Peter wriggles the doorknob, you shriek out to him, you don’t care if May’s sleeping, you have to keep him out.

“No! No, no, no! Don’t come in.”

His heart hurts, “what can I do?”

Silence, he hears muffled cries. Peter tries to think if the situations were reversed and tries one last time.

A knock just as gentle the first time rings your ears, you listen but don’t think you’ll be able to respond.

“Hey, trouble. I’m gonna wash the sheets, alright? I’ll bring you some clothes and you can take a shower, sound good?” You bite your lip and nod, then speak out. “Sounds good.”

When you were in the middle of shampooing you heard the bathroom door crack open and you could see your boyfriend's figure on the outside of the curtain. He set down fresh towels on the counter and added a stack of clean clothes, before leaving.

It was when you were drying off your body when you noticed he took your dirty clothes too to wash them, it made you feel shy. You didn’t want to face him again.

—---------------------

Peter was back in bed, new sheets atop his mattress. His right arm cocked behind his head lifted him up as he watched something on his laptop. His eyes skirted up when you floated into his peripheral and met you with a warm smile, it made you feel worse.

You shuffled towards his bed, scared to get back in it.

“Wanna watch a movie or go back to bed?”

You woke him up. You woke him up with blood and drama and grossness, he should be disgusted with you. He even changed his shirt, he knows you got it all over him like some sick demon.

“Movie.”

Peter counted ten minutes and you were stiff as a board in bed and hadn’t said a word, let alone look at him. He’s your boyfriend for christ's sake, if you were too scared to talk to him about this then he thinks he’s failing.

He pushed the laptop further down the middle of the bed and shuffled right into you, his arms wrapped around your head and he pressed a kiss to the crown.

“‘M not mad, or upset, or grossed out or anything. I am sad you’re sad and scared to look at me.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

You were vulnerable but he still laughed, he didn’t mean to, it just came out.

“Why would I be?”

He placed another kiss, “I mean, tell me. Did you know it was coming?”

“No.”

“Did you hold it in until you reached my bed?”

“No.”

“Was it an accident?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. We don’t get mad at accidents, they’re accidents for a reason, trouble. No one plans ‘em.”

Your words bubble out, “but it’s gross!”

Another laugh, he wriggles his cheek against the top of your head. “To who? Not me, I know you’re not talking to me. Because if I remember correctly there's been more than a few times period sex has come up.”

You grip his arms, “but you’re prepared then, you were ambushed when you woke up.”

“Babe, it was like a dollar quarter’s worth of blood, I’ve gotten worse papercuts.”

You sniffle, “you mean it?”

A kiss to your hairline, “that’d be a really, really dumb dealbreaker.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter x reader #my writing

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obsessive-valentine · 6 months

Text

Imposter/Changeling-husband x GN!Reader

A fae changeling seeking some trouble takes the place of your once verbally abusive and neglectful husband and grants you one day of a loving husband out of pity. Or maybe he’ll play along a little longer...

Life was exhausting, your days are long and tiring then you had to return home and continue working to your partners expectations, from making food before he gets home, the house has to be spotless and yourself be presentable. After all this work and effort into a one sided marriage, not one ounce of respect do you get, nor a chance to rant about your day, not a hug. Instead he retreats to his sofa to eat his food and watch tv alone usually only speaking to you briefly. That was what made today so odd, because none of that happened...

Well the day was long and unforgiving and you did rush home to cook and clean, standing in the kitchen keeping the food warm waiting for your partner to barge in, complain about their day and disappear. The door opened but didn’t hit the wall, shoes were wiped on the foot mat then followed with two ‘clip-clops’ as they were laid on the shoe rack... when did they start to care about tracking mud through the house.

“darling? You here?” He called as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, it took longer than it should have to answered when your words caught in your throat. This was so out of character, even his voice was eerily soft, was he mocking you in a way? Unsure of the intent you choked out a answer with furrowed brows before he rounded the corner “I’m in the kitchen” it came out almost like a whisper but loud enough for his pace to become more confident.

“There you are, you wouldn’t believe the day I had” his eyes locked onto you but were softer than expected and a smile uncovered dimples you forgot existed, subconsciously the corners of your mouth tugged up and your brows rested. Such a unusual feeling of ease washed over you, and even more so when he greeted you with a hug; something was unsettling about the atmosphere but you chalked it up to him being abnormally nice. It was like settling into a old habit, it was how you fell in love with him, the same actions you’d dreamed about experiencing again; the ones that kept you from leaving your husband all these years.

He’d thanked you for cooking and praised your cleaning, you both sat and ate together and he listened about your day before insisting he clean the dishes. You’d been so wrapped up in this feeling you failed to notice his slight change in eye colour, his sharper teeth, the fact his limbs were slightly longer not enough to be concerning and how his smile dropped whenever you turned away.

...

He’d chosen your husband to become a doppelgänger of due to his position in the workplace, a secure one, one he could use to mess with people then disappear and choose a new target. But after weeks of watching and waiting for the perfect moment to jump in, he’d began to become disgusted with how this human treated his partner, even fae treated their partners with more respect than you’d been dealing with.

For a while he’d considered treating you so bad that you’d leave this shitty life and run for the hills in some sort of sick mercy or lesson. But as he walked closer to the door of the house knowing you’d be in the kitchen waiting for the verbal abuse or neglect the like every other day, he couldn’t bring himself to mimic the now dead man he’s taken the place of by opening the door harshly. Instead the door didn’t reach the wall with a thud, stopped by the tips of his fingers last second; sparing you a jolt of shock.

He huffed in annoyance once he’d realised he’d already messed up his plan, after straightening up his jacket he decided ‘this house will see one day of calm, then I’ll chase them off’. So he took off his shoes and placed them on the rack and faked a calm smile. The whole night he kept thinking ‘poor thing’, how fast you caved into the love bombing and denying the off putting atmosphere.

And at some point, maybe when he jokingly danced with you for half a song while you both cleaned up, or maybe when he went to bed with you and let himself drape a arm over you, maybe it was when he woke up to the alarm clock and saw you still peacefully still, he began thinking ‘My poor thing’.

So that morning one day of mercy turned into two and a growing possession over his naive little human. Maybe he will play happy marriage with you for a while, maybe when he gets bored of this world he will take you with him. Maybe he will settle down in this silly world and never reveal his true self...

#yandere oc #x reader #yandere fae #yandere changeling #yandere

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ninzied · 2 months

Text

where ground meets light

alex and henry go on a double date. modern au. based on the prompt: a kiss to distract, for @caressthosecheekbones. ~1.2k.

They’ve only been dating a few weeks when he suggests it.

“Sorry.” Henry has to take this all in for a moment. Surely he must have misheard. “You want to go on a double date? With Alex?”

“Is that weird?” Gregory asks, in the manner of one who’s merely being rhetorical. “He’s your best friend. I want to get to know him better.”

“Well. Sure,” Henry says, because he cannot think of a single reasonable objection that a normal person would make. A normal person who’s not been harboring an ill-advised torch for his best friend for years. “Though,” he hedges, as if the thought’s just occurring to him, “I’m not sure he’s dating anyone at the moment.”

Henry would know if he is. In fact, according to Pez, the whole world would be hard-pressed not to notice because of the moods Henry gets in when it happens.

But it’s been well over a month now since his latest “little London fog,” as Pez calls it, so Henry mentions the idea to Alex as an afterthought, thinking there’s no real danger of him saying yes.

“Great!” says Alex brightly. “I’ll bring Yvette.”

He’ll bring fucking whom?

Yvette is a bloody knockout, of course.

Henry expects nothing less. Alex is only the most beautiful man who’s ever walked the planet, so it stands to reason that his date should look as she does.

The more unfortunate thing is that Yvette is also supremely likable. She’s warm, and funny, and seems to share Alex’s knack for livening up the conversation as though they’ve all been friends for years.

By all counts, the date should be a success. Henry laughs more than he thought he would and drinks far less than he thought he would need to. Alex is impressed by the food, which makes Henry feel absurdly pleased to have chosen this particular restaurant.

And, perhaps most importantly: because they’re seated at a round table with Alex angled off to his left, Henry hasn’t caught himself staring at him even once.

Perhaps he’s not so at risk of giving himself away as he’d thought.

The trouble, turns out, starts elsewhere.

The trouble is that Henry doesn’t have to be looking at Alex to be attuned to his every feeling and movement.

The way Alex’s knee keeps jittering under the table. The tic in his finger as he taps, then stills. Taps, then stills. The fact that he’s hardly stopped for a breath since they sat down.

He’s antsy, and miserable, but he’s trying so hard and his smile’s so vibrant that not a single person can tell. Not a one but Henry, and he needs to do something, needs Alex to know that he’s seen.

“Darling,” says Henry, without even thinking, and puts his hand on Alex’s wrist. Christ. Fuck. What did he say? What is he doing? But none of that seems to matter right now. “Are you all right?”

He feels Alex relax as though instantly calmed by that one simple touch, and Henry knows that if Alex hadn’t been all right before, he is more so now, somehow.

“Another round of drinks?” Henry asks the table, not even waiting, not even looking, before pulling Alex to his feet. “We’ll be right back.”

This is the difference between them. They both have their moods, but Henry wears his on his sleeve and has to shut himself away until it’s passed.

Alex, meanwhile, hides his in plain sight from most people, but Henry likes to think he’s not most people, and as soon as they’re at the bar out of earshot he looks Alex in the eye and says, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Was it that obvious? Fuck.” Alex shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Hen, just—want to make a good first impression, you know?”

Henry’s brow furrows. He tells that jealous little twinge in his chest that now is not the time. “Is this your first date with Yvette or something?” No wonder he’s not heard of her earlier. “Christ, Alex, why didn’t you say so sooner? You didn’t have to come if you didn’t—”

Alex laughs under his breath for some reason. “We’re not dating.”

“You’re—what?”

“She’s a friend,” says Alex. “She’s helping me out. And if the lov—I mean, if my best friend’s boyfriend wants to meet me, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Henry’s chest is positively aching now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he says, firmly despite how breathless he feels. “It’s not that dire, trust me. We’ve only been on, like, three dates before this one.”

“Oh.” Alex seems to process this. His expression looks lighter for just a split second before it gets all heavy again. “Well, if you’re wanting there to be a fifth, you should probably talk to him before it’s too late. Looks like he’s about to leave.”

Henry glances over his shoulder, and sighs. “I should probably talk to him, yeah.”

Gregory is putting his coat on as Henry walks over. They both muster up a small smile, Henry’s more rueful, Gregory’s resigned.

“I’m really sorry,” Henry says, and means it.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make it into a thing,” Gregory says. “Unless you’re about to tell me to stay. That would be pushing it.”

“I’m not,” Henry admits. “What I did want to say is that—well, I haven’t been entirely honest with myself about what I want. Which means I haven’t been honest with you, and that’s not fair to you at all.”

Gregory nods. “I do like you, Henry. You deserve to be happy. And I deserve to not be the guy that you use as an excuse to keep standing in your own way.” He glances at Alex back at the bar. Yvette is there now too, flirting up a storm with the bartender.

“I wanted to get to know your best friend,” Gregory continues. “And now that I have, I can say that he’s a really lucky guy.” He gives Henry a meaningful look. “Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Alex straightens as Henry approaches the bar, an untouched whiskey in one hand. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to go talk to him.”

“I did.” Henry shrugs, and helps himself to Alex’s drink.

Alex is looking as though he’ll never again know happiness in this world. “I fucked things up for you, didn’t I. Fuck.”

“What? No,” says Henry, but Alex doesn’t seem to be listening. “Alex. Alex.”

“Do you want me to go talk to him? I can explain.” Alex runs a hand through his hair, sending his curls all breathtakingly askew.

He doesn’t even know, Henry marvels. He doesn’t even know.

“I mean, it’s not your fault that I—” Alex breaks off with a frustrated sigh before starting back up again. “I’ll tell him that you don’t feel the same way, and that I’m really fucking sorry I ruined your night with my—you know—feelings, and—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Henry says.

Then he leans in and kisses him, because Alex is an unstoppable force, and this is the one place where Henry has not been brave enough to meet him, until now.

Alex goes quiet at last, save for the sigh he lets out as their lips part and his hands find Henry’s waist and pull in.

“Whoa,” he breathes after a moment. “Yeah, we gotta do that again.”

“Shh,” Henry murmurs, “we were doing so well.” He puts his hand on Alex’s nape, drawing him back in.

Alex kisses him back like it’s the only thing that centers him, the only thing that keeps him grounded, and Henry—well.

Henry can’t help but think that it feels a bit like flying, too.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #iuserzoe #userveronika #chrissiewatts #usersteen #usernuria

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ninthcircleofprythian · 20 days

Text

Winner Takes All

Azriel x Original Character (Celeste)

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary : After returning from a girls retreat weekend at the cabin, Nesta and Celeste find out the Bat Boy husbands have made a bet they are sure to lose.

Author's Note : Azriel and Celeste are the pairing from my in progress multi-part fic. This can be read as a standalone and takes place after the events of that story.

Warnings : light swearing, explicit sex described - masturbation, p in v

Celeste had just settled herself into the plush sofa in the living room. Tucking her feet under her, she grabbed her latest novel from the table.

“I’ll be upstairs.” Azriel said as he leaned over the sofa back for a kiss. “I have a lot to catch up on.”

She leaned her head back to meet his lips above her. Landing a quick peck, Az pulled back and flashed her a quick smile. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Celeste frowned at the kiss she was expecting to linger, but before she could complain a sharp rap sounded from the front door.

Az sighed, “I’ll get it.”

From where she sat, Celeste could see the face that stormed through the door before a word was even uttered.

“Hi, Nes,” she called from her seat.

“You,” Nesta stalked into the room with a scowl on her face. “Come with me.” Grabbing Celeste’s wrist with no explanation she pulled her to standing and started yanking her down the back hall towards the kitchen.

“Yes, hello Nesta.” Az drawled with an exaggerated nod in her direction as they passed. The scowl on her face only deepened.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on, Nes?” Celeste asked, trying to keep her silk slippers from falling off her feet.

Nesta just carried on in silence until they reached the kitchen. Stopping abruptly, Celeste nearly slammed into her from the change in speed. Nes only shoved her gently to the side before peering out the door.

“Nes?”

Satisfied that they were alone, she whipped around. “Has Az been acting…strange?”

Celeste’s brow furrowed. “Strange? What do you mean?”

“You know, strange. Weird. Not like himself. Like — sexually.”

A shocked laugh left Celeste’s lips. “Nesta! That’s a bit forward don’t you think?”

A miniscule movement in the shadow cast across the cabinet front caught Nesta’s eye. “Out!,” she demanded as she whipped her head towards the movement. A quick fluttering of mist promptly zoomed back through the kitchen door.

“What exactly is going on, Nes? Should I be worried?”

“I knew it was a terrible idea to head out on a girls weekend all together,” she stated, shaking her head. “Leaving the boys alone all to themselves always starts some kind of trouble.”

Feyre, Nesta and Celeste had just returned from a three day girls retreat at the cabin. The husbands had been left behind in charge of the domestic duties and themselves.

“I’m confused. What does leaving them all alone together have to do with my husband’s sex life?” Celeste giggled.

Narrowing her eyes, Nesta leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “Apparently a bet has been made between them. Except it doesn’t just involve them.”

At Celeste’s apparent confusion she continued. “They seem to have made a bet with each other about which one of them can go the longest without having sex.”

“Those sneaky bastards,” Celeste breathed out in shock. She immediately thought of all the quick kisses and restrained touches she had gotten since coming home two days ago. Az hadn’t even ravished her like he normally did after time apart, claiming to be feeling unwell. Celeste hadn’t been able to find anything remotely wrong with him through her healer’s touch but had let it go. He had buried himself in work ever since.

“Does Feyre know?” she questioned.

“It doesn’t matter. Rhys apparently didn’t even make it through the night we returned. I’ll tell her later. I only know because Cassian thought maybe if he told me why he won’t touch me that I would play along and help him win,” Nesta scoffed. “Honestly, I’m so mad about the bet that I might just let him win out of spite.”

Celeste didn’t reply right away, a look of concentrated contemplation on her face.

“What if we make a little bet of our own then?”

A sly grin crossed Nesta’s face. “I’m listening.”

“What if we do our best to undermine their bet and then we commandeer the winnings and take ourselves out to a nice dinner. On them.”

“Doesn’t really sound like much of a bet if there is no downside,” Nesta laughed.

“Exactly,” Celeste declared. “Just a little harmless fun. You in?”

Nesta cracked out a laugh. “Harmless, sure. I’m in.”

Celeste laughed along with her. “Who do you think we can break first?”

“I don’t know,” Nesta thought aloud, “It’s down to just Cas and Az now and you know Az has one hell of a competitive streak.” She winked at Celeste with a smirk. “This close to winning, I think he might be the hold out.”

“We will see about that,” Celeste said with a smirk of her own. “Where is Cas now?”

“He had to run out with Rhys, something something — I wasn’t listening. He said he’d be back in a couple hours.”

“Well, how about this? Double or nothing. I can break Azriel and end the whole silly bet before Cassian even makes it home.”

Another sharp laugh echoes through the kitchen. “You’re on.”

******

The door had barely clicked behind her friend before Celeste was up the stairs and digging in the wardrobe in the bedroom. Finding just the thing she was looking for, she quickly changed before donning her lightweight house robe. Taking a quick peek in the mirror in the bathroom she pinched at her cheeks and watched them bloom with color before adding a swipe of a colored gloss to her lips.

Tucking her book under her arm, she made her way down the hall. The door to Azriel’s office was closed tight but she didn’t even bother knocking.

“Mind if I join you?” she questioned as she peeked her head in.

Azriel’s gaze lifted from the stack of papers in front of him as he sat behind the large oak desk. “Of course not. If you don’t mind me working a bit longer that is.”

“That’s fine.” Celeste meandered over to the sofa sitting in front of the fireplace. “I brought a book. I just wanted to be in your company.” She smiled at her husband sweetly.

With nothing but a nod in response, Celeste settled herself down upon the cushions. The sofa angled perpendicular to his desk, she made sure to lean her back against the sofa arm that had her facing him directly. Azriel hadn’t even spared her another glance before returning to his work, pen in hand.

With her legs stretched out before her, she opened her book and propped it in her lap. The next several minutes ticked by in silence. Only the scratch of Az’s fountain pen and the crackling of the fire sounded as Celeste did actually commit herself to reading some before enacting her plan. Suddenly, she gave a small gasp of surprise as she pulled her book closer.

Az’s eyes flicked up from his work without even raising his head, pen still in hand.

“Sorry,” she smiled sweetly once more. “This book is just getting really good.”

Not even a nod this time as he returned to his task.

“Ohh,” she purred out after two more minutes had passed.

He flicked his gaze up again, his chin following this time. “Must be a pretty interesting book.”

“Oh, it is.” Celeste responded as she ran her hand over the collar of her robe, pulling at it slightly.

Az gave a lopsided smile before once again returning to his work.

Ok, time to get this show on the road. She thought to herself.

Celeste allowed another minute to pass before she snapped her book shut, placing it on the table next to her. The sound caused Az to twitch with a start as he watched her leave her seat to stand. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

It was so quiet that she could hear the whisper of silk as the robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled onto the floor. Underneath she was clad in an absolutely scandalous outfit. A pure white baby doll style nightgown graced her ample frame, although calling it a gown was generous. The hem barely grazed the top of her abundant thighs and the entire thing was practically see through. She had purposely left out the matching panties.

“That’s much better,” she said with a saccharine smile and bent to retrieve her book, making sure to exaggerate her bow in the right direction before settling herself back onto the sofa.

“Now where was I?” She thumbed at the bookmark she had placed and settled the book back in her lap without even a look toward her husband.

“Celeste.” Azriel’s dark rumble seemed to skitter over her skin as he spoke. It wasn’t a question.

“Hmm?” She feigned innocence as she dragged her eyes from her book to look over at him.

The heat in his eyes told her she was definitely on the right track. His pupils had nearly blotted out the entirety of his light hazel eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Just reading. And you are working,” she narrowed her own molten eyes at him. “So don’t mind me.”

She nearly giggled as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his wings twitching. “That doesn’t look like just reading,” the low rumble of his voice was still there.

“And it doesn’t look like you are getting much work done,” she says sweetly, this time allowing herself a small giggle.

They held each other’s stare across the room, both of them as still as stone. Celeste waited for him to make the move from his seat but it didn’t come.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” she questioned.

Azriel narrowed his eyes at her and his head gave a small shake of confusion.

“Normally you’d have me pinned to the furniture by now. Have you been struck lame?”

She didn’t miss the shudder in his breath as he heaved a sigh. “Celeste, sweetheart, as much as I would love to, I really do need to finish these tonight.”

“Alright.” She shrugged as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Don’t let me stop you.”

It took nearly a full minute before Az dropped his own gaze back to his desktop. Within seconds, Celeste began sliding her hand over her collarbone.

“Mmm,” she purred as she flipped the page, bringing her hand back up to her chest and sliding down the space between her breasts. Azriel’s eyes landed on her once more but she didn't stop to acknowledge it. Gliding her palm under one breast she weighs it briefly before sliding her fingertips to the puckering dark tip. With a quick twisting pinch, she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

“Celeste.”

Her hand was now at the edge of her hem, toying with it for just a second before she pulled it up. The downy tuft of her core was exposed as her hand continued its journey over it.

“Azriel.” She practically moaned his name as her finger slipped into the joining of her folds, brushing against her aching clit.

The creak of the office chair snapped her attention back to him but she didn’t stop her movements. Noticing he had pushed himself back from the desk some, she gave a seductive smile in his direction. Staring practically into his soul, Celeste slid one foot from the cushion and planted it firmly on the floor, opening her knee wide.

“Ohhh – Az,” She moaned again, gathering her arousal on her fingers. Tilting her head back one more she said breathlessly, “This book. It’s just – too good.”

The sight of her glistening sex open before him did the trick. Within the blink of an eye he was at her side, standing between the low table and the sofa.

“I have work to do,” his voice was all gravel but nowhere near convincing.

Looking up at him, she paused her hand. Slipping it from her wetness, Celeste pushed herself up to sit facing him, knees primly together.

She leaned forward slightly as she reached for his front, noting the breath he was now holding. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Her hands slid briefly over his belt buckle and he released his breath with a hitch. With a quickness her palms met his hips and with a gentle pressure she guided him down to sit on the table. “Maybe something about a little bet perhaps?”

“Damn it Rhys,” Az releases the entirety of his breath now as he scrubs his hand down his face. “Celeste, I can exp–”

“It was actually Cassian who snitched,” she smirked wickedly at him. “But it seems he is still in the running, according to Nesta.”

Leaning back and releasing her hold on his hips she allowed her back to meet the sofa. Slowly, she dragged on foot along his shin before planting it firmly on the table edge beside his hip, watching as his eyes flared and dropped to her lap.

“I would hate..”

The other leg repeated the motion.

“For you to lose…”

Her hand slipped down to her dripping folds.

“All that coin.”

“Devious,” Az growled with a predatory grin, running one hand up her leg. “Positively unfair.”

Leaning forward he attempted to bring his face closer to where Celeste’s hand was gliding. Before he could get far, one pointed foot landed on his shoulder pushing him back upright.

“No, a bet is a bet,” her voice firm as her fingers return to their task. “You can watch.”

“Fuck the bet,” his voice deepened. Trying once more to lean himself forward, she pushed back against his shoulder harder.

“Now Azriel, where is your competitive spirit?” She slid her fingers over her throbbing clit and gasped, dropping her foot back to the table.

“Besides,” she said breathlessly. “I expect a really nice present with the winnings.”

Sliding a finger over that aching spot, she moaned loudly before slipping the digit inside herself. Her hips bucked off the couch just as Az grabbed a hold of her ankles on the table, holding her in place.

“Fine,” he grunts out hardly above a whisper. “As long as you tell me what it is you are thinking about.”

With a smile she continues. “I’m thinking about your tongue,” she panted out, staring at his face. “Right here.” She circled her thumb around her clit.

“And the way you slip it inside me,” she gasped as a second finger joined the other inside her.

“How you curl it.” Celeste’s fingers mimicked the movement inside her. “Over and over, right on that one spot.” Her hips bucked again as she sucked in a shuddering breath and threw her head back.

“But mostly,” she started as she pulled her fingers back out, returning them to her clit in the familiar pattern she knows will make this light work. “I'm thinking about what comes after.”

“How your body feels pressed against mine when you push inside me,” she moaned.

“Especially when you do it slow,” she whined.

“Oh gods, so slowly, stretching me as you go,” she cried.

The sudden displacement of air as he stood and the ringing clank of Azriel’s belt buckle broke the moment. “This won’t be slow, sweetheart,” he growled.

In an instant, his pants and underwear were pushed down and kicked to the side, knocking one of Celeste’s legs off the table. Swooping down, he caught it and used it to swivel her to lay fully reclined on the long sofa. Az planted one knee on the cushion as Celeste hooked the leg over his hip.

“Thank the gods,” she laughed, bringing her hands up to his shoulders.

He caught the hand that had teased him so mercilessly before she could place it. With a groan he pressed her sodden fingers to his tongue as he angled himself at her entrance. With a flick of his tongue he tasted her arousal at the same time he slammed into her in one jolting thrust.

“Azriel!” she cried as he picked up a punishing pace.

Every thrust pushed out a mewling sound from her throat. Az leaned down as he moved her arm to the back of his neck with the other and pressed his lips to her ear.

“Wicked,” he grunted with a hard thrust before pulling her earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes,” she panted in his ear. “Punish me — harder.” Her nails were digging into his shoulders.

Bracing himself with one hand on the sofa arm, Az granted her wish as she cried out in ecstasy beneath him. The force of his thrusts shook the furniture and threatened to knock over the lamp next to it.

“Oh yes,” Celeste screamed. “Gods. Az. Fuck – I’m —”

With a bellowing shout, Azriel came at the same time Celeste fell apart around him. The pulsing of her core around his cock had him hissing through his teeth as he continued to thrust into her until every last drop was wrung from him. With a final grunt he collapsed on top of her, their galloping hearts pressed together as they gathered their breath after release.

“Well, looks like my pockets are going to be a little lighter,” Az sighed as he pushed himself up with a kiss to her neck. Celeste let out a ringing laugh.

“What’s so funny? I lost the bet,” he smiled at her.

She just laughed again, louder this time. “Maybe you did, but I didn’t.”

******

Later, after leaving Azriel to the work that he actually did need to complete that night, Celeste slipped into the library before heading to bed. Digging through her desk drawer, she found what she was after. One of the enchanted pads that she had spelled to deliver directly between her and Nesta in the House of Wind. With a quick scrawl she scratched out her note before watching it disappear.

Dinner. Tomorrow. 6 o’clock.

Don’t be late.

#azriel x oc #azriel x original character #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acowar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #bat boys #acotar smut

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ghouljams · 4 days

Note

I would love to see you take a crack at a spy au with the boys and their darlings, I don’t know but your writing could do that sleek bond vibe justice, just a random little worm in my head but I’ll be honest spy content is always on my brain. Anywho you can disregard this but all the best!

I wrote this in an airport last July:

Blonde, Ghost thinks, and too pretty to reasonably be any of these men’s arm candy. He’s got his mark. You fit your dossier to a T. It’s almost comical how easy it is to pick you out and make his way over. All he has to do is secure you and deliver you in hand to Price tomorrow. Easy peasy, he’s never had trouble bringing women home, you won’t be any different.

You spot him before he can reach you, eyes dragging over him with a smile. God you’re gorgeous. Arms dealers, smugglers, the highest in power of the lowest of the low, you stand out like a diamond among shit. Ghost understands why James Bond always had a girl on his arm if you’re the type of gold these criminals run with. You hold out your hand as he approaches, eager to be introduced.

“How’d a pretty little thing like you get caught up in all this dirty business,” He asks, taking your hand firmly in his. You tip your head, doe eyes staring up at him as you do your best to wrap your fingers around his hand.

“Oh I wouldn’t say I’m caught up in anything,” You tell him, your voice soft and entreating, “I’m more of an… outside contractor.”

“Is that what they’re calling it?” Ghost raises a brow.

“It’s what I’m calling it,” You drop his hand, he almost misses the warmth, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Bourbon,” Ghost tells you, leaning against the bar next to you.

“A good ol’ boy,” You purr, and tap the bar to signal the tender. You’re so close he can feel your warmth, smell your perfume. You smell divine, even prettier up close when you bat your lashes at him, everything about you seems designed to entice and entrap.

“Not that good.”

“I’m sure you more than make up for it,” You pick up the glass the bartender slides across, holding the rim with your fingers as you offer it to him.

“Never had any complaints.” He lets you set the glass in his hand, enjoying the way your eyes never leave his, even when he tugs his balaclava up to drink.

“Awfully confident for a man with no face," You hum. Ghost's eyes flick over you, the hug of your dress over your body, the low dip of the neckline. Your practically spilling from it as you lean over the bar. Makes him want to get his hands on you, see if you're as soft as you look. He'd bet you are.

"You lookin' to try for yourself?" Ghost raises a brow. He's glad for the mask with the way you press yourself against his arm. Your tits squish comfortably against his bicep, the warmth of your body burning him through his jacket. Your hand settles on his thigh, and he wonders if you have some sort of fetish for men that are bad news.

"I'm wondering," Your head tips, your voice scraping his ear as he settles his glass on the bar, "why the biggest man in the room needs to hide his face when he's confident enough to approach me." Ghost feels the twitch of his smile, enjoys the pressure of your fingers against his thigh, even flexes it for you.

"You're a pretty bird," Ghost supplies, "and I'm a wanted man."

"So is every man in the room," You lower your voice to whisper, "but you're the only one who-"

"If you're that curious," Ghost finishes his drink, the burn of it steeling his nerves, "Why don't we go up to my room, and I'll take it off for ya."

Ghost wakes up to a cuff being snapped around his wrist. “Really sorry about this,” You tell him with a pitying look, “but I can’t have you getting yourself hurt.” He yanks at the cuff, hears it click against the bars of the headboard. You take a step back as he reaches for you with a growl. Oh, he’s not the one you should worry about being hurt. You twist an earring into your ear, watching him struggle to get his wrist free. Wait, weren’t you blonde? The dossier said blonde, he saw you last night, you were blonde.

The metallic ping of his pistol’s safety brings his focus back.

“That’s my gun,” He says, watching you check the magazine.

“Correction, was your gun.” You slip the mag back into place and holster the gun in your waistband. You rifle through his jacket and pull his passport free, flipping it open to check it. You give a low whistle, “How’d you manage to get by without a picture, I mean that is really-”

“When I get out of this,” He warns low. You give him a look.

“You know I should really be thanking you, last night was… wow,” You fan yourself with his passport, before tossing it onto the bed next to him, “but otherwise this has been very disappointing. I mean,” You hold up a flash drive, “the heel of your shoe?-” Ghost stills, “-Sort of embarrassing, really.”

Shit. He yanks at his cuff harder, free hand searching for anything to stop you with. The drive disappears from your hand and you scoop your dress from the night before off the floor. Wait, that’s his shirt, you’re wearing his shirt. You turn the dress inside out and tug the sleeves, shouldering the reversed garment turned bag.

“It’s been a pleasure, Ghost, truly.” You tell him with a smile, “The maid should be in to release you shortly. Don’t wait up.”

Ghost watches you leave, effectively crossing off the only two targets he had to secure last night. Price is going to be so monumentally pissed.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #the au where Ghost is a bond girl #spy au

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yeosbbm · 8 months

Text

Cowabunga

Smut | MDNI

starring: surfer! yunho x lifeguard! fem reader

genre: mutuals to lovers, perfect match

summary: being a lifeguard is fun since you get paid just to keep the peace and keep people from drowning. it does get boring however…that’s until you saved yunho from drowning while surfing and he repays you back with a small date and more...

warnings: size kink, sweet/dirty talk, indirect exhibitionism (you don’t get caught/nobody around), oral (fem+masc received), fingering, unprotected piv

A/n: This shit took forever to write so if it flops then oh well I’ll just delete it allah please.

The sun is beaming and the cobalt ocean sways and rolls into itself. Today was a good day to be a lifeguard. A lovely view paired with rarely having to get down from your chair tower.

The most you have to do is yell “No trash thrown into the sand please!” Or “No fighting!” every now and again. A person hasn’t had trouble in the water except for once or twice.

It’s a calm low effort job. BUT, you really do wish it was more exciting, there’s only so many sunsets you can watch and shaved icees you can eat.

During your silent contemplation you feel someone knock and bump your lifeguard tower. While getting ready to curse you notice it was just Mingi and the others.

“Hey ! (y/n) .” Mingi says while lightly knocking on your tower. “Min. PLEASE. Stop knocking the tower.” You say pinching the bridge of your nose.

“We told him not to.” Wooyoung and San say in unison.

“You dropped your whistle by the way.” Seonghwa chimes.

You sigh while coming down from your tower. You look around for the “dropped whistle” but still don’t see it in the sand. “Where’s the whistle.” Mingi points and shows it was still around your neck.

“We just wanted you to come down since you haven’t left the tower all day.” Mingi chuckles. You want to be mad but you were a bit hungry and aforementioned bored out of your mind.

“The Tiki Cafe ?” You ask squinting from the sun’s brightness.

Mingi nods “Yeaa Tiki Cafe, gotta meet with Yunho anyway.”

You all head over to it. It’s a small cafe most people at the beach or locals go to. You all order your usuals and begin to talk and eat.

In the midst of a conversation Mingi looks over at the door and smiles. “YUNHO !! Over here !” He whisper shouts. Yunho walks over to the table and leans over onto it with his board.

He greets the other guys and nods his head at you. Yunho is Mingi’s closest friend as well as a known surfer. Him and Mingi surf together all the time. You two have spoken before and follow each others instas but your convos stay short and casual.

You can’t lie. This man is beautiful. His tall toned body paired with his perfectly set face, the cheesy smile and sweet boyish charm. You most definitely found him attractive.

You bring yourself out your staring when you notice a large crack running down Yunhos surfboard. “Wait what happened to your board.”

“Yikes man, what DID happen.” Mingi says grasping the nose of the board to ogle at the crack.

Yunho looks down at it and gives a shy smile. Gosh he’s handsome. “Dropped it on the asphalt. It should be fine..I’m still heading to catch the big wave today.”

“Really ? You sure your board will be able to stay up ?” You’re not exactly a surfer yourself but you know that cracks can be detrimental.

Mingi’s eyes widen at the news of the big wave. “Bro the waves about to come in 10, let’s go catch it !” You roll your eyes and ask for a to go box. Yunho pats your shoulder. “No need to worry, I can always swim if I get wiped out.” He gives you a playful wink before heading out with the guys.

————————-

You guys return to the beach. You pull out your to-go box and munch on your leftovers while watching the beach goers and occasionally watching the guys and their antics.

Yunho stops by your tower with his board. “Hey do you got any board wax ?” You usually have some but Mingi used up the last bit. “Sorry I’m all out” Yunho was staring at you as though he didn’t care.

“It’s ok, by the way there’s sauce on your shirt.” You look down and see the grease spot that you couldn’t see due to your lifeguard swimsuits’s red hue. “God. Thanks Yunho.”

“Don’t worry you still look good..I mean you always look pretty.”

“Oh..thank you, again.” You practically shrink into yourself after the compliment. Yunho fondly stares “I was wondering if..”

“ YUNHOOO THE WAVES HERE.” Yunho quickly turns before grabbing his board. He turns back to you looking torn between the wave and the convo. “Talk to you later ?” “No worries just tell me when you’re done.” He smiles and rushes over to the guys getting ready in the water.

Time passes and you see the guys close by splashing water on each other. However, you realize Yunho isn’t there ? Your intuition screams for you to look farther with your binoculars.

You see him riding a large wave. Focused and concentrated. But. You noticed where the crack in his board was began to split, and soon Yunho gets engulfed into the water. When you see him not come back to the surface you know somethings wrong.

You get off the tower and run down into the shore. You tell Mingi to come with you to help Yunho.

After swimming over and a draw boat comes, Yunho is finally safe. You, Mingi and Yunho go to the nearby clinic to ensure he’s fully ok. You waited in the waiting room while Mingi was inside with Yunho. Finally, Mingi comes out.

“Hey is Yunho ok did they- ?”

“He thinks you’re cute.” Mingi shrugs and takes his phone out.

You can feel the heat fill your face from the random info. “I didn’t ask that, but thanks ? Is he ok though.” You’re sure he is from Mingi’s calmness but still need the verbal assurance.

“Yea he’s perfectly fine, waves just knocked the wind out of him.” Mingi’s demeanor is unphased..which is a switch from how scared and worried he was initially, it seems like he’s even smirking from your concern.

“That’s good..thank god.” Relief washes over you but you can still see Mingi’s smirk.

“So when are you telling him you like him.” He says still typing away on his phone.

“What,,your bestfriend just almost drowned why are you asking silly shit.”

“My bestfriend is completely fine and I’ll let him know to text you.”

“What.”

Mingi starts to walk back into the room Yunhos in. “Just let him take you out.” He closes the door, and now you’re just sat there speechless.

————————-

“Meet me at the shaved ice shop at 8 ?”

That’s the text Yunho sent a week after the surfing incident. You already know Mingi told him to text you. You’re whirling in a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment.

You sit at a stool in the icee shop checking your phone trying to keep yourself occupied. Then you see him. In a plain black tee and grey jeans..outside of his typical swim short and sandals attire.

You both begin to talk. You expected an awkward conversation considering how you two were aware of one another but not close..however, you two meshed so well ? Finishing each others thoughts and falling into each others jokes with no hesitation. Such a smooth and clean interaction.

“I just wanted to thank you..the guys would’ve never knew I was in trouble if it wasn’t for you.”

“No need to thank me..it’s my job, but like literally.” Yunho let’s out a breathy laugh at your words, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hey shop closes up in 5, time to head out.” The shop manager tells you while gesturing at the door. You both head out and walk over to Yunho’s car.

He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “I have my swim trunks and a blanket so we could swim and hang out if you’re not ready to go home.”

“Do you always keep a blanket in your car ?” You laugh.

“No no but, I really did want to spend time with you alone…we can leave now if you want…” Yunho looks away, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s ok…come on let’s go.” You reach your hand out to Yunho, fingers interlocked you two walk to the lower part of the beach. You take off your clothes..your swimsuit being underneath.

“Do you always keep a swimsuit under your clothes.” Yunho playfully mocks. You roll your eyes trying to hide your amusement.

You both swam together. Splashing water alongside of Yunho trying to teach you some swimming tricks he learned for if he wiped out on his board. The moonlight and stars leave bright streaks in the ocean swallowed by the night.

Soon you both get tired and return to the higher part of the beach while Yunho lays out the blanket. You both started sitting away from each other, talking more and finishing things discussed in the shop. Slowly it became you and Yunho laying side by side, hands brushing against each other.

“Hey..” he tilts your head to look at him. “Yes…” He looks into your eyes and looks away before returning them back. “I know we don’t talk but..I think I really like you.”

You stare, heart pumping harder at his words. He bites his lip in regret “I know that was too random, sorry I’ll take you home.”

“…Yunho don’t…I like you too..” You’re both facing each other, close enough to wear you feel each others breaths.

“You do….”

“I do.”

In seconds Yunho’s lips were on yours. His kisses were slow and methodical, his hand cupping your cheek while the free hand was set on your hip. Soon his tongue was brought into it, slowly whirling with yours.

Now..you knew what you were about to do was bold. But you couldn’t help it. You got on top of Yunho, hands sliding down his bare torso on his damp skin. This kiss continues and you feel him bring his hands to your hips.

You begin to grind down, not as fast or steady as you wanted due to nervousness. Yunho understands though, and ground you into him for you. The kiss finally breaks and you take a breath..the reality of it all hits you and you hide your face away in an attempt not to be consumed by his gaze.

Yunho can’t help but to want to see and relish in your shyness and glassy eyes. He puts his fingers to your chin, making you look at him.

“Getting shy on me ?” He says stroking your chin. He brings the hand back down onto your hip and continues to grind you two together. You can feel his bulge, the sensation intense from the thinness of your swimwear bottoms.

After mustering enough courage you reach down his swim trunk’s waistband.

“Can I...” Yunho is reeling at the fact you can’t even look him in the eye. “Go ahead baby..” Yunho nods and watches you go further down his torso. You pull the shorts down and there it was. His cock springs up, unbearably hard and oozing precum.

You lightly pump him in your hand and he winces in pleasure. After bringing your confidence up you bring your lips to the tip of his cock and suck. Yunho’s head is thrown back, lips parted. You begin bobbing your head up and down, struggling to take it all in your mouth. Yunho’s ok with that though…he actually finds it cute.

“Fuck…you’re doing so good for me.”

He gather your hair in his hand and helps you make your way up and down his cock. You peer up at him seeing him with a face of content while also taking airy breaths. You feel him twitch in your mouth. That’s when he pulls you away.

“You’ve helped me too much, I need to return the favor…” Yunho swiftly lays you back and pulls off your swim bottoms.

Such a view for him. Your skin moistened by the remaining sea water sitting on it, body unveiled to him..breast peaking from your swim top due to it being disheveled from all the movement. He opens your legs, another lovely view..your heat is sopping wet. He groans from the sight alone.

He pulls your swim top off, it was barely hanging on anyway. Parting your legs, he leans down and places kisses across your inner thighs. Then begins nipping and sucking at the skin. Your hips begin to stutter up from anticipation.

“Mm someone’s getting impatient hm ?” Yunho lightly swipes his thumb across your clit leading you to sigh.

“ ‘need your mouth on me…”. Your face is beyond warm and hot…being so exposed has you losing your mind but in a way…gives you more sexual gratification.

He takes his thumb away and begins licking and nipping at your clit. Fingers making their way into your hole, curling in a “come here” motion. You find solace by grabbing his hair, gently pulling which makes him take it farther.

He laps at your cunt. Sucking at your clit while speedily fucking you with his index and middle finger. The alarming pace with his fingers easing more of your arousal out. “..Yunho..more, please fuck..” He takes his fingers away and starts making out with your cunt. You’re bucking into his face while his tongue takes you apart.

“Cum on my face for me ” You’re done for. His tongue finds the perfect rhythm flicking against your clit. Then he places open mouthed kisses on your cunt.

You cum all over his face and he licks up as much of your essence as he can. He comes back to your face and kiss you; tasting yourself and his lip balm. “We can stop now if you want…” he whispers kissing down your neck, his cock hard against you.

You shake your head no. “Inside..I need you inside..” Yunho loses it at the confirmation. He opens your legs up for him and kisses you while bringing his cock into you. He presses all his weight onto you while slowly thrusting his cock into your soaking core. You’re filled to the hilt..his cock stretching you while his tip thumps against your gspot.

It’s all so intoxicating. The scent of the cool beach and him mixing with your own scent. Combined with the wetness shared between your bodies and the sensation of his cock stuffing you full over and over again.

Your senses are overloaded. All your pussy can do is clench around his cock. Yunho is just as fucked out..feelings your plush walls tighten around him.

“Fuck. Almost everyday..” His hips meet yours in a harsher fashion. “Almost everyday I see you…in that swimsuit.” The drags of his cock are becoming heavier and heavier. “And I just think about having you all to myself..pull the swimsuit off you and fucking you…just like this.”

Yunho takes notice of how your cunt sucks him in with his words. “I bet you knew…I bet you wanted the same..” He slams into your cunt with the punctuation. “So fucking good.” Your moans are loud. Praying nobody is taking a late night visit to the beach because they’d know exactly what you were doing. You naturally quiet yourself by biting your lip.

Yunho stops your silence by snapping his hips faster while kissing you. He holds your face in his large hand while he fucks into you harshly. He pulls his lips away, his sighs and groans in unison with your moans and whines. “Who cares if someone hears..I need to hear you.”

His thrusts become sloppy and lose their tempo. He’s just as close as you are. “You gonna cum on my cock for me ?” Only moans of affirmation can be vocalized. After his tip hits the right spot a few more times you cum on it. Your arousal covering his cock and lower abdomen.

His thrust falter. He pulls out but his tip is still pressed onto your cunt’s bud and he cums all over your pussy. You can feel his warm seed run down your folds.

You both fully collapse onto the blanket. The air is filled with sex and the humidity from the weather. You can hear the ocean sway and Yunho’s breaths. Above you the still moon and stars. Your eyes begin to lull before Yunho rises and picks you up off the blanket.

He takes you both to the mini showers used for washing sand off and cleans you both up. You both put your clothes on, him helping you put on yours while asking if you’re ok and whispering affirmations.

Soon you both head back to his car and begin to ride along the beachside. His hand occasionally resting on your thigh during the ride. Soon you both finally arrive to your home to drop you off.

“Are you on beach duty tomorrow.” He asks drawing shapes into your hand with his fingers.

“I shouldn’t be.” You begin holding his hand, rubbing your thumb against his.

“Meet me at the shaved ice shop again ?”

720 notes · View notes

anonymousewrites · 3 months

Text

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Eight

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: Trouble at the Hotel

Summary: Mimzy brings thugs to the hotel, and (Y/N) decides to step up.

The entire group at the hotel stared at the demon, Mimzy, in confusion. She had broken in during a tense (silly) confrontation (song) between Lucifer and Alastor, so her arrival had caught everyone’s attention.

“Who?” said Lucifer, blinking.

Mimzy frowned. “Didn’t you just hear me? Why is everybody gawkin’? Is it cuz I’m adorable?”

“Mimzy!” said Alastor, grinning widely.

“Alastor, sweetie, doll-face,” said Mimzy. “So good to see you!”

Aha, so they know each other, thought (Y/N).

“How you been? Good? Good!” said Mimzy.

Alastor and her hugged, which shocked everyone since Alastor wasn’t one for physical touch initiated by others.

“Listen, I was in the neighborhood,” said Mimzy conversationally, “I heard you were staying in this ritzy slob factory, and I figured I’d stop by, say hi! For old time’s sake.”

(Y/N) cocked their head. For a moment, Mimzy had seemed uncomfortable, nervous. She was definitely lying about why she was there. But she didn’t seem much of a threat, and with Lucifer and Alastor in the hotel, she couldn’t try anything, could she?

“Of course, sweetheart,” said Alastor, clearly in control of the situation. “Everyone is welcome here!”

“Oh, how nice!” said Charlie. “So you two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah, we go way back,” said Mimzy. “We ran in the same circles when we were alive.” She grinned conspiratorially. “You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He’s the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor then keep up with me on the dance floor!”

(Y/N) smiled at the idea and chuckled. It seemed the hotel patrons and staff knew even less than they thought about the enigmatic Radio Demon.

“Oh, quite a talent, this gal,” said Alastor. “Ho, ho, you should have seen her in her heyday.”

“Hey, watch it, tall, dark, and creepy,” said Mimzy. “I’m still in my prime!” Her eyes landed on Lucifer, and she gasped. “Oh, my stars! Is that Lucifer?” She shoved Pentious out of the way. “Move it!” She approached Lucifer and curtsied. “Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.” She glared at Alastor. “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” said Lucifer, clearly not meaning it.

“As much as I’d love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue,” said Alastor.

“I’m sure Charlie can handle showing me around,” said Lucifer, still grouchy about the situation with Alastor.

“Nonsense!” Alastor popped up before Lucifer could escape with Charlie. “We started the hotel together, and we’ll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

“Oh, right,” said Charlie, a little nervous because of the obvious friction between Lucifer and Alastor.

“Why don’t you let the others help you settle in,” said Alastor to Mimzy. “And I’ll be back before you know it.” He walked off with Lucifer and Charlie, and the hotel group was left with Mimzy.

“So,” she said, grinning. “Where can a girl get a drink around here?” She sauntered up to the bar and smirked at Husk. “My, my, is that Husker? Alastor still has you slinging hooch for him, I see.” She laughed. “Classic. How ya been, furball?”

(Y/N) narrowed their eyes. They didn’t like the way she was speaking to Husk.

“Good until five minutes ago,” muttered Husk.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me,” teased Mimzy. “You might hurt my feelins.” She giggled.

Husk huffed and looked away. (Y/N) walked up to the counter and leaned over.

“Need a hand with anything?” they asked.

“Do you want to work?” scoffed Husk.

“Not really,” said (Y/N). “But I thought you could use a hand. Maybe you can grab me some water?”

“Finally giving up on getting an actual drink?” chuckled Husk.

“Can’t in this hotel as long as Charlie’s around,” grumbled (Y/N). “And I’m not exactly going to go out to random clubs and bars in Hell by myself.”

“That’s for the best, kid,” said Husk, handing them a glass of water.

“Hey, Niffty, whatcha’ been up to, girlie?” asked Mimzy.

“Fighting bugs!” chirped Niffty.

“And, uh, how’s that goin’ for you?” said Mimzy dubiously.

“They’re winning.” Niffty grinned darkly and pulled out a carving knife. “But not for long.”

Husk finished Mimzy’s drink as Niffty ran off and slid it to her.

“Uhuh, thanks, pussycat,” said Mimzy, taking a drink.

“Oh, fuck you,” said Husk.

Now, (Y/N) knew Husk was rough around the edges with everyone, but with this level on antipathy? They decided they couldn’t trust Mimzy.

Said demon looked at (Y/N) and frowned. “Ya know, I recognize most of the people in this hotel from one thing or another, but you…I got no clue. Who are you?”

“I’m (Y/N). I live at the hotel,” said (Y/N).

“You actually believe in the redemption shit?” said Mimzy, laughing.

(Y/N) decided to take a page out of Alastor’s book and smiled widely. “I believe in getting stronger, and being here is just the right place to do so.”

Mimzy raised a brow and chuckled in disbelief. “In a hotel with washed up bartenders and bugs?”

“In a hotel of people I like,” said (Y/N) brightly. Their smile turned a bit sharper, an attempt to mirror the look they’d seen on so many other demons’ faces as they intimidated lesser sinners. “And respect.” (Y/N) wouldn’t stand for their friends getting insulted. These were the first people in their life they could trust in any way.

“Geez, what a cold kid,” said Mimzy. “What happened in the years I’ve been dead, are there no parties anymore? No fun?”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes.

“So, uh, you and Alastor are like what?” asked Angel, walking up. “Friends?”

“Well, that’s your word, not mine, but I think it fits.” Mimzy proudly puffed up her hair.

Everyone exchanged dubious looks and took sips of their drinks to avoid responding.

“Why so surprised?” huffed Mimzy.

“Well, just didn’t know he had any of those,” said Angel, shrugging. “Nicest thing I’ve ever seen him do for another person was help (Y/N) with their magic.”

“That was for his own entertainment because I suck,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“Still nicer than he is to me,” grumbled Angel. “And besides, he’s still a big, creepy mystery.” He looked at Mimzy. “What’s his deal?”

Mimzy grinned. “Well, you probably heard the stories. He appeared in Hell suddenly, making a splash quicker than anyone had ever seen. At first, people wanted to dismiss him, but, soon, overlords started goin’ missing, and not small ones, neither. We’re talkin’ heavy hitters. No one knew what happened to ‘em until these strange radio broadcasts started going out. All you could hear was screams. Every time an overlord went missing, there’d be a new voice screaming in the broadcast. That’s when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon, and anyone that would mess with him…Well, let’s just say his broadcasts never lacked new voices.

“That’s the story most people know, but underneath it all…” Mimzy brightened, shifting the mood abruptly. “He’s a total sweetie! Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten.” Everyone stared. “Stop with the looks,” she chuckled. “He hasn’t done any of that in a while.” She held her drink out to the bar. “Can I get another one of these?” She received no response since Husk had walked off in the middle of her speech. “Oh, what the fuck. How am I supposed to get a drink?”

“Have you tried pouring yourself one?” said (Y/N), grinning at Angel, who snorted.

“Hey—”

Bam!

The entire hotel shook, and the group tensed.

“What the hell?” cursed Angel as his drink spilled.

“Mimzy, we know you’re in there you lousy bitch!” shouted a man from outside.

So she’s not the trouble, but she brought trouble, thought (Y/N) distastefully.

The group in the lobby peered outside to see shark demons with a battering ram attempting to break down the doors.

“Oh, shit,” said Mimzy, ducking and covering her head.

A portal opened in the lobby, and Vaggie, Charlie, and Lucifer stepped through. Lucifer closed his portal and looked around, almost bored (and not a little disappointed).

“Que carajo?!” cried Vaggie.

“What’s going on?” asked Charlie.

“I maaaaay be in trouble with some loan shark’s,” admitted Mimzy. “I may or may not have borrowed fifty grand from—”

Bam!

“Eep!” Mimzy jumped behind the bar to hide.

“You better come out!” shouted the Loan Shark.

“And I may have also stolen a car…and crashed it…into the loan shark’s girlfriend.” Mimzy coughed awkwardly and then frowned. “But that bitch had it coming!”

Boom! Crash! Bam!

Piles of flaming wood were cannoned through the windows of the hotel, landing all around the group.

“My windows!” cried Niffty.

“We’re under siege, take cover!” cried Pentious.

“Look out!” said Vaggie, jumping aside. “What the fuck?!”

“Shit!” (Y/N) dodged as the flames ate at the lobby and licked at them, singing the flowers atop their head. “That’s it!”

(Y/N) raised a hand, and briars ripped out of the ground outside of the hotel. They grabbed at the loan sharks, who yelped and dodged as best they could. (Y/N) stepped onto the sill of the broken windows.

“Go the fuck away!” they spat.

As roses and thorns thrashed at any sharks they could grab, (Y/N) just watched as blood was spilled. They didn’t care. These people were trying to break their home. (Y/N) wasn’t letting that happen.

“Ya see, this is exactly what I’m talking about, Charlie,” sighed Lucifer. “You build something nice, you invite people in, you offer them everything, and they just bring violence and chaos to your doorstep. It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned you are, they’re always going to disappoint you.”

“All of you, get to a safe distance!” said Vaggie. “(Y/N), stop tearing people apart, I’ll handle it!”

“I’ve almost got them all,” snapped (Y/N) back. These people were hurting their family. They deserved whatever they got.

“Fucking bitch!”

The Loan Shark in charge fired at them, and (Y/N) ducked, wincing as several of their leaves and petals burned away. They held their head and stumbled back, the vines outside crushing the men in their grips in reaction to (Y/N)’s pain and alarm.

“(Y/N)!” called Vaggie, lifting her spear to help them.

“Leave it to me.”

Everyone looked at Alastor in surprise, not having expected him to step in. However, they flinched at the sinister glint in his eyes because, despite his signature smile, the look promised agony for the shark demons outside. Attacking the hotel and burning (Y/N) (as surprising as it was, the patrons and staff of the hotel had to admit that (Y/N)’s injury seemed to get Alastor intercede) had sealed the sharks’ deaths.

“It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.”

As another round of fire sped towards (Y/N) and the hotel, shadows ripped up to catch the fireball, smothering it in an instant as the shark demons stepped back at the display of power.

“Oh, finally, took ya long enough!” said Mimzy.

“A reminder to all, not to mess with the Radio Demon!”

Green light surrounded Alastor, and shadows lifted him into the air. Several tendrils crashed out to the law of the hotel and stabbed through the remaining shark demons, brutally killing them in an instant. Alastor floated outside, shadows covering himself and pushing (Y/N) back into the hotel as he leered over the lesser sinners. He laughed evilly as their screams rang out.

“Are you alright, kid?” said Husk, looking at (Y/N)’s head as they backed up towards the bar.

(Y/N) felt their head and winced. Apparently, losing the flowers was a legitimate injury for them. Blood came away with their hand. “I think I need some bandages…”

“We’ll make sure ya get some,” said Angel. He squeezed (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping us.”

“I wanted them to stop,” said (Y/N), smiling a tiny bit.

“I will devour each and every one of you!”

Outside the hotel, Alastor grew to a giant size, looming over the terrified, suffering shark demons. He cackled as they tried to run and escape his joyful torture of them.

“Mhm, ya see?” Lucifer shook his head as blood splattered across the ground. “What I tell ya? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hellbent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There’s really no point in trying.”

“Dad, stop! (Y/N) and Alastor were both defending this hotel!” snapped Charlie, unwilling to hear Lucifer belittle the people she cared about. “He might be doing it in a more…sadistic way than I’d hoped.” She cringed as Alastor swallowed a shark whole. “But they both are doing it for me! How come they have faith in me, but my own father can’t?”

“Ooh, drama,” said Angel, pulling popcorn out of God knows where.

Alastor finished outside and shrank down to his regular size. “Oh, I missed getting to let off steam.”

“Oh, Alastor, what a fantastic show!” chuckled Mimzy, walking out. She clapped. “Bravo, as always! Thanks for helpin’ lil’ ol’ me outta a tough spot, you’re always such a pal.” A piece of the hotel crashed to the ground, and she jumped before chuckling sheepishly. “Sorry about the mess, but I’m sure the lil’ bug can take care of it for ya.”

“I think you should go Mimzy. Now.” Alastor’s smile never left, but his voice was sharp, warning.

“Oh, pff, Alastor, you’re such a kidder, you!” Mimzy laughed his words off. “You are so funny!”

“I mean it.” Alastor cut her off. “You deliberately brought danger to this place and the people within just to have me clean up your mess. I can’t have that here.”

“But you love takin’ care a’ me?” said Mimzy, laughing nervously. Seeing no change, she shifted tactics and scoffed. “What? You don’t actually give a shit about this tacky place and the people livin’ in it, do ya? Come on. I know you.” She attempted to tease him. “You heartless son of a bitch.”

Alastor pushed her back with his staff. “You are welcome if you actually want to give redemption a shot. But I think we both know that’s not really your style. So you need to leave.”

Mimzy spluttered. “Fine! Who needs ya? Have fun with ya lil’ princess and ya lil’ kid and ya lil’ hotel!”

Alastor’s eye twitched at the surprising phrasing, but he remained as intimidating and as collected as ever.

“See if I care!” Mimzy gave him the finger and stalked off.

Alastor was unimpressed by her attempt to frustrate him.

Behind him, Angel, Husk, and Pentious nodded in satisfaction that the flapper demon was leaving. Behind them, Charlie was chasing down Lucifer to talk to him due to his continuingly disappointing attitude towards the hotel. However, Alastor brushed past them all (after summoning shadows to repair the hotel) and headed towards the actual rooms of the hotel.

Alastor glanced at his shadow as he walked. It didn’t require his words to understand what he wanted, and it pointed down the hall. Alastor melted into the shadows, following his own.

Emerging in a hotel room, Alastor glanced around. Undoubtedly, this was (Y/N)’s room. It was fairly bare, still quite hotel-like and impersonal, but flower petals littered the floor, and roses grew in a protective curtain around the bed.

Alastor turned away from the room to face the bathroom. (Y/N) could be heard within, and Alastor approached. He peered through the crack in the door before making any move to enter.

(Y/N) stood within the bathroom. Frowning, they twisted awkwardly in an attempt to properly see their burn injury. They attempted to reach up and put burn cream on their head, but the roses on their head flinched and wilted in pain, causing (Y/N) to wince as well.

At that, Alastor found himself melting through the shadows and reforming behind (Y/N). “My, oh, my, this is quite an unfortunate display.”

(Y/N) jumped. “Alastor?”

“Who else?” chuckled Alastor. “Oho, my, what a burn you’ve got there.”

“The loan shark got a hit on me while I was handling some of his men,” said (Y/N), focusing on trying to reach their wound again.

“At least your training seems to have done some good,” said Alastor approvingly.

“Really?” (Y/N) blinked at looked at Alastor in the mirror.

“Yes, your use of magic is improving quite well,” said Alastor. “We’ll address defensive techniques next time.”

(Y/N) nodded, hissing as a petal fell and touched their wound. They grimaced and gingerly removed it.

“Until then, we should take care of that,” said Alastor, gesturing his staff to the injury. “I can’t have you walking around like that. The hotel needs to keep up a good appearance.”

He snapped his fingers, and two tendrils of shadow lifted up. They picked up the burn cream and bandages. (Y/N) watched warily as they approached by the first apply the salve to their wound. They winced, but the tendrils were gentle, and as soon as the cream had absorbed, the second tendril placed a bandage overtop, careful to avoid disturbing any other roses blooming.

Alastor looked at the shadows’ work and nodded in satisfaction. The tendrils disappeared, and he and (Y/N) were left alone.

“Thank you,” said (Y/N), looking at the bandaging in the mirror.

“Nonsense, you would have gotten it done in time, but your failure wasn’t entertaining enough to let continue,” said Alastor, grinning and waving a hand.

“No, not for that.” (Y/N) turned to face him. “For helping me with the loan sharks when they hurt me.” They shrugged. “I know it was to show off in front of Lucifer, but it helped.”

Alastor tilted his head, still grinning. “You seem to thank me a lot for helping you when you know I’m not an altruist.”

“I guess I do,” said (Y/N). “But I was in a shitty position.”

Alastor lightly tapped (Y/N)’s forehead with his microphone. “I couldn’t let my protégé get too burned.” His grin widened. “Do try not to get harmed in the future.”

(Y/N) was surprised by the warning? Concern? Whatever it was, Alastor melted into the shadows before (Y/N) could respond to his face.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’ll try.”

They knew the shadows were listening.

Alastor emerged in his room, the shadows carrying (Y/N)’s words to him. He looked out of the window over Pentagram City. Even in the night, the lights never shut off, always shining with life (well, death) and energy.

However, so far removed from the city proper, the hotel sat on its own. It existed in a quieter space and left Alastor with just his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, those thoughts were not plots or strategies that night. No, they were over weakness—sentimentality that he was showing. It was pathetic, yet it was true. Yes, he had it as under control as he could have it, but the truth was also that he was having instances of weakness.

It all started with (Y/N). First, the child allowed him to teach them, which was good for Alastor’s schemes for power. But then they had seen his motivations and still not questioned it, instead just thanking him. Alastor hadn’t been thanked for anything in years.

And then Alastor had found that, despite his plans going astray, he was willing to continue teaching them. Why should he give strength to someone who could become his enemy? It was a foolish idea.

But that, apparently, wasn’t the extent of Alastor’s foolishness. He had comforted the child. He had pathetically seen himself, young and afraid and tired, in the cowering child and allowed his shadows to calm them down. He had done what a young Alastor would have wanted for (Y/N).

And now, Alastor had not only defended them when those idiotic shark demons attacked but ensured they were healing well. Alastor was familiar with his possessiveness when it came to the souls he controlled, but this was something else.

It was protectiveness. It was sentiment. It was weakness.

Alastor tsked. First he found a friend in Hell (dear Rosie) and now whatever (Y/N) was? What was happening to the Radio Demon?

This was disgraceful.

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207 notes · View notes

nataliasquote · 4 months

Note

Would you ever write a drabble in the Double the Trouble AU where Y/N and/or Isla came home *quite not sober* being very cuddly and clingy with Moms? 🥰

(Idk what a drabble is but sure! I’m sorry if this isn’t what you meant 😬)

- ⧗ -

Stumbling through the door whilst trying to maintain composure is something neither of the twins were very good at. They were’t trying to hide the fact that they were tipsy from their moms, but Y/n somehow had a grand idea that her mothers wouldn’t be able to tell how much they’d had to drink.

She forgot one of them could read minds and the other was an ex-assassin.

Isla was swooning over the goodbye kiss Valkyrie gave her at the end of the driveway, a drunken smile placed on her lips as she tried to shove her key in the lock. Wasn’t her fault it kept moving as she tried.

Wanda and Natasha were in the kitchen, their usual waiting spot when the girls were out partying. They grinned at each other as excited chatter got closer, Natasha counting down from 3 to time it exactly.

“Mamaa! Mom!” Y/n exclaimed, speech ever so slightly slurred as she stopped by the door to kick off her heels. “You’re awake!”

“Have fun?” Y/n nodded frantically, wandering over to Natasha. “How much did you drink?”

“Nothing.” Nat and Wanda shared a look with a knowing smirk. “Just the special juice.”

“Special juice indeed,” Wanda said, watching as Isla filled two glasses and placed one on the table in front of Nat.

“Can I go to bed?” Isla asked, her demeanour suddenly switching as the night finally caught up with her. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at Nat, to which both mothers nodded, Wanda holding out her arms.

“Take your water with you and shout if you need anything.” Isla gave both her moms a hug and a kiss before trudging upstairs, heels in one hand, water in the other.

“You should go too, missy,” Natasha said as she patted Y/n’s knee. The young girl scowled at her and sipped her drink, moving to lean her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Come on, off to bed.”

Y/n grumbled in response and turned to fling her arms around Natasha, burrowing her nose into her neck. Wanda raised her eyebrows and sipped her mug of tea with a smirk.

“Come on big girl, you can tell me all about it in the morning.” But Y/n didn’t move, not even when Nat’s hand lightly squeezed her sequinned waist. “Y/n?”

“Wanna stay with you,” the young girl whispered, cuddling more into Natasha’s side with a tighter grip. “Don’t wanna leave.”

“It’s almost 3am sweetheart.” Y/n didn’t even look up at that so Wanda slowly stood up and slipped her arm around Y/n’s shoulder so Natasha could stand up. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No.” Natasha barely steadied herself on her feet before two familiar arms clung to her waist again. Y/n was rarely like this but she wasn’t going to complain.

“I’ve got her, it’s okay,” Nat mouthed to Wanda over the top of her daughter’s head, to which the Sokovian nodded gratefully. She collected the empty mugs and filled Y/n’s water bottle up, pressing it into Natasha’s empty hand. “I’ll come up with you and help, ok?”

Y/n didn’t really reply but Nat took that as a yes, waddling as best she could with a seventeen year old basically tied around her waist. It was a difficult move, but the duo made it to Y/n’s bedroom in one piece.

Nat knew flicking on the main light would be too harsh, so she managed to find the switch for the soft pink bedside lamp which flooded the room with a dusky glow. Y/n was swaying on her feet, only managing to stay upright because of Natasha’s arm around her shoulders.

“Pyjamas, come on,” Nat tried to encourage but Y/n was having none of it. “If you get changed, I’ll sit with you for a little while.”

Clearly the prospect of more Mama cuddles was enough motivation for the teenager to wriggle out of her dress and into more comfortable clothes. Nat took a seat on the bed, giving her daughter some privacy. Y/n came crawling over and lay basically on top of Nat, her head tucked safely in the crook of her mother’s neck.

“What’s got you so cuddly all of a sudden?”

“Just love you,” Y/n muttered. “Lots.”

Nat pouted at her words, turning her head to kiss her gently on the forehead. “I love you too malyshka.”

“Promise you’ll never leave.”

“I promise. I promise.”

#fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #kaya speaks!#double the trouble au

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hxjikonn · 1 year

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Hello! Congrats on 143 followers! You deserve it!

Could I request Malleus, Kalim, Vil, Ace, and Jamil with an s/o telling them they're the best thing to have ever blessed her eyes?

A/N: ’M GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS SM 😭♥︎ I have a 3-4 characters limit though so I had to take out Vil and Jamil as I didn’t have time 😔 maybe I’ll add a pt.2 in the future with the two in it! I hope you like it!

Got me Lovestruck

☆Staring☆: Ace Trappola, Malleus Draconia, and Kalim Al Asim

Synopsis: Their reaction to Fem!Reader suddenly saying they’re ‘the best things to ever bless her eyes’

Warnings: Tooth rooting fluff, I don’t proofread my shit so prolly grammatical errors, missing words, etc. I’m sorry💀💀💀

Ace Trappola

You two were doing your usual trouble causing habits, only to be caught by one of the teachers and get sent to detention. “I cant believe we have to write a 500 word essay about why we shouldn’t balance stuff on top of sleeping people’s heads….” Ace groaned quite heavily slamming his head down his desk.

“Like, it’s not OUR fault they fell asleep where we are! That should be an unspoken rule! ‘never fall asleep around Ace or Y/n’ right???” He turned to look at you with a frown as his head still laid there, you giggle at your boyfriend’s frustration and reached over to play with his hair in attempt to calm him down from his tantrum.

After awhile he stopped ranting and just doodle on the paper near where his face rested on his desk, pouting but enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his hair. You found yourself chuckling at the boy’s expression, you always found it endearing how he made you laugh at any given situation…it was one of the reasons why you fell for him…

“Ace you’re one of the best things to ever bless my eyes y’know that?” You blurted out, a soft smile plastered on your face as you looked at him. Needless to say he stopped whatever nonsense he was doing and looked right back at you. Eyes widened and shocked from the sudden confession you’ve made.

Cue Microsoft shut down sound

Wouldn’t know how to react, like his heart is pounding and wants to kiss you right then and there but also a nervous wreck

All his ‘rizz’ that he’d usually brag about would be flushed down the drain, and he has now downgraded into a flustered speechless boy.

When you notice he was acting like a deer caught in headlights, you leaned in and pecked his forehead to bring him back to reality.

He wanted to melt, that’s what he felt like. He pulled you closer to him by the waist and just buried himself in your embrace.

You’d tease him but let him do that until his brain starts running again and is able to produce words.

Once he’s up and running again he’d gather enough courage to leave soft kisses on your collarbone as he’s still too red to kiss your face.

“I fucking love you, I cant- I don’t even- Ughhhh see??? this is what you do to me?? Oh my gosh…”

Malleus Draconia

You two were out on your nightly walks again and he’s going on a tangent about gargoyles while holding on to your hand, you listened and probably know what he’s talking about already due to countless times he’s mention this subject to you whenever it sparks up in your conversations.

Still you listened to him fondly, showing interest to his likings aswell, occasionally you’d ask him questions, and he’d elaborate. You loved how enthusiastic he was when he talks about the things that he likes, the hobbies he does, or anything at all if your being honest.

The horned fae’s voice was like that song you’ll never get tired of, suddenly a question from him cuts you off your train of thought “aren’t they the greatest creatures to bless this earth my dear?” He asks you. “I beg to differ” you protested, he was shocked as you always agreed with him on this, “oh? well then please do” he offers, awaiting for your argument. He was always up for a friendly debate.

You smiled up at him, “They’re not the greatest thing to ever bless MY eyes…because that would be you, my prince” and lifted up his hands to plant a small kiss on his knuckles. “And my opinion wont be swayed so don’t even try tsunotaro” you grinned at him. Suddenly though…your lover stopped walking.

He hears church bells ringing lol

He’d passionately but gently give you a kiss, you’d have to be the one who pulls away frist because this man isn’t stopping 🥹

He was already asking DEMANDING you marry him and ‘no’ isn’t an option. Already has your whole life with him planned in his head.

You’d giggle at his sudden statement and he explains to you that he wasn’t joking. You’d assure him that you knew he wasn’t but ‘not now’

He frowns, but understands and doesn’t push you any further (for now at least) He couldn’t leave you that night, so he stayed over and slept beside you. Coddling you with affection

Would be thinking about what you said to him everyday and smiling, he’d set the whole world on fire if you wanted him to, no questions asked.

After that day he’d keep asking ‘when’ you were going to marry him. And would be stuck to you like glue.

“Malleus…this isn’t your class” “I understand sir Trein but I simply cannot leave my wife…” “WIFE?!?!” “EXCUSE ME??!” “Mal go to your class”

Kalim Al Asim

You two were just hanging out in Scarabia, he was simply laying on your chest, content as he watched vidoes on his phone. These were the days where it was peaceful, the only sounds that were heard were birds chirping and occasionally small talk from the two of you.

Kalim was busying himself with the content his phone provided, making little noises like gasps or laughs from time to time. You just watched him, as his expression changes, finding yourself laughing aswell because you thought he was cute.

He’d look up at you from his phone and ask what you found amusing but you’d tell him that it was nothing and he’d just go back to doing what he was doing. This went on for awhile until he puts down his phone and looks up at you with a pout, “What?? You’ve been laughing since earlier, is there something on my face?…” he whines, climbing up the cushion to meet your eyes and lays down beside you.

You nod, so he starts wiping his face with his hands you only respond with a laugh again, slowly you took his hands off his face and replaces them with yours, “What? What’s on my face?“ he asks, “The best thing to ever bless my eyes” you answered and gave him a kiss. You swore you saw his pupils dilate.

Would cry 💀💀💀 no seriously he’d start tearing up.

You notice this and ask what was wrong, finding it a bit funny that your boyfriend just starts crying for no reason.

He’d burry his face in your chest sobbing, hands wrapped tightly on your waist, mumbling little I love you’s

You laugh at him for this as you thought it was adorable, you peppered him with kisses to make him stop crying.

When you ask him again he’d just say that he loves you so much that’s why he started crying. And once again burry himself in your warmth.

Would rub hearts on your back and leave kisses on your neck sometimes. When you end up falling asleep first he’d watch you sleep and tell you how much you mean to him.

Would always remind you that he loves you everyday from then on. Like ALL THE TIME, you have to tell him to stop sometimes ‘cuz it comes at the most RANDOM of hours.

“Y/n….?” “Hm???” “I love you okay? Very much…” “love it’s 3 in the morning” “I know, I just wanted to tell you that, go back to sleep now, I love you” “Hm…I love you too..” “I love you more-“ “Kalim…”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland reaction #twst x mc #twst x yuu #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader

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webslingingslasher · 11 months

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Hi Mm this is socks lmao, but could I request something with reader having a horrible day where everything goes wrong, nothing feels right, and she's tired of like carrying the world and everyone one else on her back and Peter is just the sweetest guy ever babying her and hold her while she cries? Yep that's me, but with no Peter

sowwy it took so long, i had a few requests for this and put them all in one giant pot. i also hope everyone here is feeling better ❤️

Totally broken, you just needed someone to hold you.

It had been an awful day of an awful week of an awful month. Punch after punch, you couldn’t take anymore. Holding yourself the entire walk to the frat house, only allowing yourself to sniffle and keep a steady flow of tears, nothing too hysterical to pass in public.

Almost tripping over a curb you choke back a sob, all you could do was manually breathe and think of the path to the house. You weren’t even sure why you wanted to go there anyways, you’d never gone to Peter before all upset and choked up.

And knowing him, he’d hate it and send you away informing you that taking care of your crying mess wasn’t in his job description.

Focusing on breathing, you knocked at the solid door and prayed Peter would answer, save for any of his brothers mid breakdown. But, like most of today and this week, things did not go in your favor.

“Trouble?”

He wasn’t your boy.

“Is Peter here?” shoddy breaths, you’re about to collapse in a sob, you shouldn’t be here. “Actually, nevermind, I’m,” you inhale sharply, tears skip down your cheeks, “I’m, um, gonna go home.”

Spinning on your heel a warm hand closed around your wrist tugging you inside, “no, you’re not. Parker would fucking kill me if I let you leave like this.” Wiping your cheeks and trying to pull away, “he wouldn’t want to deal with me, I should…” shaking his arm off and trying to make a dash before he caught you by the hood of your jacket.

Gagging you pull at the neckline, “what the fuck, Ethan?”

“Parker!” He calls up the stairs, adrenaline killing your tears, trying to pull away but useless in his grip. Jerking the fabric, trying to release it from his hold, “let go, Ethan!”

“Parker!” Wincing at the shriek in your ear, “see? He doesn’t care, I sho-”

Your shoes squeak on the floor, holding your jacket as far as you could from your neck when Ethan dragged you across the landing of the house, fumbling into his chest to stop the tension. He was being anything but gentle, raising his fist to pound at the wall.

“Parker! Get the fuck down here!”

While trying your last attempt to break free, Ethan twists the hood in his hold, causing you to pause in an awkward position, if you moved you’d be choked. “Ethan, I swear to fucking god I’ll-”

“Park-”

Stomps on the stairs.

“Say my fucking name one more time, Keznek, I fucking dare you.”

Like a deer in headlights, you freeze. The second Peter hits the landing his frustration was washed into concern, not even caring his brother and best friend was watching, pouting all soft. You weren't crying anymore but the evidence showed, written all over your face was a cry session.

“My baby,” feathersoft, his words scooped you up and held you. Ethan’s hand dropped the second Peter took a second step, abandoning post and taking the stairs two steps at a time. Standing in front of you, his thumbs run under your eyes, “why’s my girl so sad, hm?”

Suddenly, that lump in your throat you’ve been swallowing won’t stay down. Blinking fast trying to stop tears, which fails useless as your bottom lip trembles and he’s being so soft and he’s never been this comforting before. A sob escapes, the dam breaks.

Peter’s never seen you cry before, you’ve called him once before while upset and he thought that hurt him. Watching you cry and desperate for air makes him break, he’s never had a girl come to him so broken. He doesn’t even know what to do or say, “give me a cuddle, c’mon, I know how happy that makes you!”

Instantly you’re wound around him, exhaling shaky breaths in his chest while he scratches slowly at your back. Tears bleed through his shirt but he doesn’t say a word, he thinks he might be making it worse because you’re getting worse.

Racking breaths made him push you away, he was genuinely scared you’d pass out.

“Okay, c’mon. Take a breath and follow me, okay?” Choking as you gasp, his hand holds yours tight until you reach a room off the kitchen, Peter sits on the edge of a couch and holds your hands. “Deep breath, baby.” You try to do it but fail, whimpering an apology. “I’m not asking you to stop crying, I just need you to breathe.”

It’s weak but he takes it, “one more for me,” it’s smoother this time, rubbing at an eye to clear your vision. Gulping, you force yourself to take another deep breath, this one ceasing the tears for the moment.

Peter pushes himself backwards to sit on the couch, patting the small spot next to him you follow the command. Your butt in the small space, legs thrown over his lap. “You almost knocked yourself out, trouble.”

He’s trying to lighten the mood but you just feel vulnerable and sad, resting your cheek on his shoulder you sniff. Voice breaking at the words, “I’m really sad, petey.” And fuck, he hates that nickname, but the way you uttered it, like a child with a terrible confession, made him want to hold you and never let you leave.

Hands tickle up and down your legs, “wanna tell me why?”

Blowing a shaky breath you shug, a tear falls when you blink.

“I mean, everything?” To Peter, it sounds like you’re holding back and he won’t stand for it, not until he knows what made his girl cry like that.

“I’m here for you to unload, I’m trying to take that,” he gestures to your body, “and put it here,” crumpling the tension into a ball and forcing it into his heart.

“I failed my math test, I was fired from the campus store, Zoe and Lana are fighting and they want me to pick a side but I know they’ll get over it and then I’ll always be the asshole that chose a side, and to top it all off my sister called me and I felt like it was my job to give relationship advice cause,” you give a dry laugh, “obviously, I’m in the right position to tell people about their shit boyfriend.”

A shit sandwich, you were right. Everything was wrong.

“What can I do for you?”

Because he feels helpless, but he’s done more than enough already.

“Just… hold me.”

“I can do that.”

And he does, even a little longer after you said you were finally okay.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #my writing #frat!peter

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