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#(Climbs up a wall and disappears)
fairy-angel222 · 3 months
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Pornstar Dream ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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—in which your friends help you make something other than solo porn for your onlyfans (with a week full of dick appointments of course).
—nanami, choso, sukuna, toji, gojo n geto
—cw: smut, daddy kink, overstimulation, mommy kink, passing out, bondage, gagging, threesome, choking, pussy eating, degradation, praise, breeding, pussy/clit slapping, double penetration, cervix fucking, belly bulge, mask kink, a lot more.
—repost from @/fairyhub
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Nanami. Monday 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.
Hearing the ring of your doorbell, you smiled. Jogging down the stairs in just a sexy black robe to swing open the door. Nanami’s cheeks tinted red as he greeted you.
“Hi Kento!” you grinned, embracing him into a hug, “thank you so much for agreeing to this.”
Clearing his throat, Nanami half hugged you back with a short nod. Trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you. “Yeah, no problem.”
Pulling away, you grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him into your home. Leading him upstairs into the massive guest bedroom where you filmed.
“Okay,” you started, picking up a pitch black ski mask and handing it to him. “The camera won’t be picking up your face, but you can put this one if you’d like.”
Nanami shook his head, “No it’s fine.”
“Great! Well let’s get started kay?”
Nanami found himself sat on your bed as you climbed onto his lap. His head straight forward to avoid falling into the camera’s line of sight. Despite you being able to crop him out.
He groaned when you brought yourself down on his cock. Letting out a soft mewl as your pussy took him all the way it. “Hmm,” you moaned, beginning to bounce up and down slowly while grinding your hips. “Fuck.. daddy,”
Nanami’s eyes widened, his cock throbbing against your walls as his grip on your hips tightened. Helping you speed up your pace to begin fucking yourself on his cock. The man let out a string of deep grunts, the sight of you whimpering while rutting yourself on his cock was almost enough for him.
“Nngh— so good daddy,” you breathed, “sooo fucking good, ahh.” Your lip between your teeth as you gripped his shoulders. Rocking your hips back and forth at a fast pace, your clit rubbing against his base region with each movement.
Your head fell back with your lips parted, your eyes closing as you clenched down on him. “O-oh—” Nanami noticing the way your movements got sloppy before gripping your ass. Fucking up into you at an almost inhuman pace. “F-fuckk—“ you cried out. A silent scream falling past your lips as your eyes rolled back. Allowing Nanami to do the work while you simply moaned and cried, his veiny hand curling around your neck.
“Shit- that’s it doll.“ the man cursed, his breathing getting heavy as your wetness coated his cock. Blunt tip bumping into your g spot each time it grazed your walls.
“D-daddy.. feels so good,” you let out a high pitched mewl, “‘m so close.”
Nanami’s cock fucking up into you making your stomach fill with heat, a coil building up as you were engulfed in pleasure. You could feel your head becoming dizzy as you neared your orgasm, your body trembling as your noises increased in volume.
Your toes curled with a chant of daddy’s. Your nails piercing past the muscular man’s skin. Nanami trying to keep his words limited incase someone recognized him, letting out a low husky string of curses while watching his cock disappear within your sopping cunt.
“F-fuck,” you let out your final cry, a shiver raking through your body before you were cumming on his cock. Drenching him in your clear liquid with a choked whimper.
Nanami groaned, his fingers squeezing into your ass and around your neck as he buried himself deep. Pumping ropes of thick cum onto your slippery walls.
You hummed in content, turning your body in his lap when he pulled out. Using your fingers to spread your folds for his cum to spurt out lewdly.
When you were done you ran to turn off all cameras. Grinning at Nanami before pressing a kiss to his lips, “Thank you again Kento.”
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Choso. Tuesday 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m.
Choso was nervous when you had asked him to be in your video, but agreed nonetheless. Walking up shyly to your door before ringing the bell.
Running his hand through his hair to fluff it right before the door swung open. The man swallowing hard as he saw your robe clad frame. “Choso! you made it.” you smiled. And he only nodded while handing you a mini bouquet of flowers. “Y-yeah. And i uh.. i got you these.”
You cooed, pulling him in for a hug making his face burn red. He’d seen your solo content, so it was very hard for him to look at you without thinking back to all the loads he’d blown to the sight.
You led Choso upstairs after getting a vase for the flowers. Pulling him into your recording room while breaking down what would be happening.
“So you can put this on to hide your face.” you offered, holding out a black ski mask which Choso took with no protest. Putting it on after peeling his clothes off of him.
You sat him down of a chair instead of your bed. Tying his hands behind him and kneeling in between his legs. The cameras already rolling, “Ready?”
Choso nodded, “Mhm.”
Choso whimpered as you began stroking his cock slowly. Your touch soft on his skin as you teasingly circled your wrist on his tip. Spreading his precum and using it to fist his cock. Your lip in between your teeth as you smiled to the camera. Choso’s mewls loud and whiny as his body jerked.
“Aww, you like that baby?” you teased, “Like when mommy fist fucks your pretty cock?”
He nodded with a moan, his back arching as you sped up your movements, his cock throbbing when you raked a nail up his distinct vein. “Nngh— l-love ittt, o-oh fuck, love it mommy.”
You hummed, your face seductive as you switched between teasing his aching red tip and stroking down his length. The man tugging at the ropes in an attempt to rut his hips upward into your fist.
“Nngh— more- ahh, please m-more.”
You squeezed down on his base, his head falling back with a needy whimper as his breathing sped.
“You take what i give you okay baby?”
He let out a cry, his chest rising and falling heavily as you continued to tease him. “Nngh- m-mommy..” Choso’s back arched when you placed a kiss to his tip. Swirling your tongue around the glistening mushroom head.
Choso let out a string of moans, his hips thrusting up when you took his cock past your lips. Letting out a long shaky breath as you bobbed your head. Taking him all the way into your throat with a tiny gag.
His abs glistened with sweat as you sucked him off. Adorable noises filling the room as you brought him to his release. “F-fuck mommy- ‘m cumming. Nngh ‘m cumming mommy.” his voice cracked as it got high pitched.
Choso let out a broken whine when you stepped all movements. “N-no.. why?” you could hear the tears forming in his eyes.
“Shh baby, mommy’s gonna give you something even better.” climbing on top of him and sinking down on his cock. “There we go.. good boy.” His cries of pleasure even louder than before as you fucked him with your tightness.
His mewls and whimpers making you even more wet as you lifted yourself off and back onto his cock. Your ass flush on his lap every time you bottomed down.
Your moans mixed with his. Hands secure on his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, his cock prodding your g spot each time. “Fuck, does that feel good baby?”
“Uh huh,” Choso choked out, “s-so good, haah.”
You could feel his cock twitching against your walls. Your head falling back and your lips parting in soft mewls. “Gonna cum baby? Gonna let it out f’ me.”
Choso nodded, “yeah,” he breathed, “‘m there mommy.”
“Cum in me okay? Fill my pussy with your cum.” your demanded, grinding your hips quickly as you approached your own orgasm. Drenching Choso’s cock with a cry before he was doing the same. Pumping you full of his cum with a whimper.
When you were both finished you panted heavily. Momentarily turning to the camera and thrusting two fingers into you for Choso’s cum to run out.
Eventually untying him and pulling off his mask with a giggle. His face fucked out and flushed as he looked up at you.
“Thanks Cho,” pressing a kiss to his lips.
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Sukuna. Wednesday 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.
Sukuna didn’t even knock when he got to your house. Waltzing in like he owned the place and making his way straight up to your recording room.
You let out a yelp when you saw the man by the door, a smirk on his face as he took in all the technology. “So you’re a full time slut huh?” He scoffed jokingly. Opening his arms for you to jump into. Wrapping your arms around his neck with a grin. “Hi Kuna.”
“Hi princess, i see you’re pretty much all set up.” You nodded with your lips between your teeth, clad in nothing but your black robe as Sukuna hummed. Allowing you to lead him to the bed while explaining everything.
“Handcuffs, ropes, gag..” Sukuna listed with a grin, “I like it.” Peeling off his shirt to reveal a litter of tattoos on his pale skin and a half sleeve full. His muscles prominent as he stretched. “Gonna do this pussy real good.”
You found yourself on your bed. Your hands handcuffed to the headboard and your feet tied in their spread out position. You whimpered as Sukuna placed a blindfold on your eyes. Getting ready to gag you next. “K-Kuna? You sure you wanna let your face show?”
“They’ve gotta know who’s making you scream somehow, and if you blur out my face i’m spanking that ass red.”
You nodded shakily, Sukuna strapping the ball between your lips before biting your neck softly. Trailing hot kisses down your chest with a groan. “Fuck.. wish you had called me for this earlier. Could’ve made a fortune outta this.” he mumbled lowly.
Your breath hitched when you no longer felt Sukuna against you. You shivered when his touch was replaced by a sharp nail raking up your chest. Circling each one of your breasts before tracing the sides of your waists. He was silent, keeping you breathing heavily in anticipation as a smirk graced his features.
Your back arched with a muffled mewl when Sukuna’s hand came down hard on one of your tits. The stinging sensation sending wetness straight to your pussy. Your chest rose and fell as Sukuna continued trailing your chest. Pressing his lips to your stomach before his hand came down on your other one.
Pulling another muffled cry from you with a hum. He twisted your nipples between his fingers as he kissed down to your cunt. Teasingly kissing everywhere else but where you craved to feel him. When he finally reached your pussy he groaned. “So fucking wet f’me.” Kissing your clit while his finger ran between your folds.
You could only moan behind the gag when he licked a stripe up your slit. Making out with your clit before dragging his tongue back down into your wetness. Your body jerked with a broken whimper when Sukuna’s hand laded directly on your clit. The sensitive bud throbbing at the contact.
You mewled, tugging at your restraints when Sukuna began lapping at your wetness. His tongue darting out to collect your sweetness with his mouth latched onto your pussy.
Another jerk passing through your body with a cry when his hand came down even harder. His tongue still working wonders as it dipped into you, his fingers pinching at your clit before coming down in two more consecutive hits.
Your eyes grew teary under the fabric. The blinking camera picking up the way your breaths became heavier by the time Sukuna had swapped his tongue and fingers. Curling the long digits into your walls while he tongued the rest of you.
Your body was filled with heat when Sukuna gripped your hip. Not being able to see the way he looked darkly at your trembling body. Basking in your incoherent noises as he feasted, feeling his cock grow hard underneath him.
The coil in your stomach grew stronger and. stronger. Unable to voice your release as you clenched down on his fingers with a silent scream, pussy gushing onto his hand and chin making him grunt into you. “Fuck, that’s it.” Replacing his fingers with his mouth to swallow down your juices.
Sukuna’s cock was collecting your wetness before you knew it. Roughly thrusting into you with a deep breath. His thick cock stretching you almost painfully as he bottomed out.
You mewled when he began fucking into you. His pace immediately hard and fast as his massive girth rammed into your tightness. You let out a string of loud cries, Sukuna’s hand wrapping around your neck as he glanced to the camera right in front of him. Giving it a grin before focusing his attention back onto you.
“Shit, taking me so well. Pretty little slut, fuckk.” he groaned, his tip hammering into your g spot making your back arch. Both your hands and legs pulling at their ties at the immense pleasure.
Drool ran past your lips as your body was rocked back and forth with Sukuna’s harsh thrusts. Tears staining your cheeks as he pierced deep into you. His hips holding no mercy as he moved.
Sukuna reached up to wipe your chin with his thumb. His deep voice sending shivers down your spine when he teased, “So messy,” using his hand to spread to spit all over your face before landing his palm on your cheek.
A loud cry leaving you at the burning sensation in your face. Only to have your head turned to the side when he landed another one. “So fucking pretty like this.” Tightening his grip on your neck to allow him to drill into your cunt.
Short screams matching his brutal thrusts as his cock fucked past your cervix entrance. Grazing your gummy walls perfectly on its way in and out.
You clenched down on him hard, letting out a series of muffled noises as you came. Soaking the sheets while you creamed Sukuna’s cock. The man letting out a deep groan with sped up breaths, “Fuck, can i cum in you?” Cursing out when you nodded, his head falling back as he stilled. Spilling ropes if his warm sticky cum deep into you.
“Shit..” he breathed, panting as he pulled out. The camera behind him picking up the way the liquid seeped out of you.
Sukuna untied you before removing the gag and blindfold. Watching as you sleepily blinked up at him through wet lashes. He helped you up, chucking at your messy face before kissing your nose. “Lemme help you get cleaned up yeah? You’ll worry about the cameras afterwards.” Knowing that you had tons of editing to do anyways, meaning that you could just cut the last part out.
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Toji. Thursday 2:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.
When you opened the door for Toji, he smirked widely. His hands on your waist forcing you to the tips of your toes to kiss you. “You look so fucking hot in that robe. Just wanna rip it off you already.”
You giggled, doing a little spin for him and listening to the way he groaned. Pulling you into him for a hug. His nose buried in your neck while he groped your ass in hiss large hand. “Fuck.. we haven’t even started and i’m hard.”
When you bring him up to your room, you explain how things would be going. Toji barely paying attention as he scanned the room. “Can i wear my own mask?” he cut you off, finally turning his attention to you as pulled a ghost face mask out of his pocket.
“It’s a bit late for halloween Toji.”
“But it’s never too late to make a pretty little slut like you squirm.” His deep voice spoke lowly, stalking towards you with the mask on his face. His head tilted as you were backed into your bed. Falling into a sitting position with Toji standing over you, his fingers gripping your chin to make you look up at him. “Hmm, that’s exactly what i’m talking about,” running his thumb over your bottom lip after seeing the way your thighs clenched.
“F-fine.. you can wear the mask,” you grumbled.
“Was gonna wear it either way but thanks sweetheart.” he chuckled shortly, his demeanor going serious when he sighed, “Now, when do i get to ruin that tight cunt of yours?” His eyes darkening with lust as he watched your breathing speed up.
“Y-yeah.. uh l-let me just set up the c-cameras and we’re good to go.” you stuttered, wetness pooling between your legs as you went to set up.
Toji began fucking into you like a mad man. First fingering you to stretch you out before he was full on hammering into your pussy. The blinking camera capturing the way his muscular body flexed with each slam of his hips.
Your eyes were teary as you moaned and cried out. Your body rocking back and forth with every bruising thrust. Toji grunted on top of you, his hand holding tightly onto your neck as he bullied his fat cock even deeper.
Your noises increasing in volume as you turned to look at the camera to let them see how good you were getting fucked. Your tits bouncing wildly as Toji’s force shook the entire bed.
“Fucking look at me.” he growled out, and you whimpered as he tightened his grip on you. “These fucks get to see your dumbed out face all the time, it’s my turn.” Letting out a groan before his hips took an inhuman pace.
You could not see his face, only the image of ghostface looking down at you making you moan loudly. Your back arching as you clenched down on Toji. “Nngh— o-oh f-uckk.. so good- ahh— so g-good.” you cried. Feeling yourself grow closer to orgasm.
“A-ahh, fuck— To- nngh,” you caught your almost slip up, eyes rolling back in a string of shaky mewls when Toji’s other hand pinned your wrists above your head. Masked face coming down to your ear in a deep husk, “Ya like that you little slut? Being fucked in front of a camera for hundreds to see. Such a dirty fucking girl.”
Toji’s smirk widened under his mask, “Let’s give these idiots a show.”
After you came once, he roughly twisted and turned your body into his desired position. Your face in the sheets and your ass in the air. His hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay down while he bounced himself off your ass.
A dragged out cry leaving your mouth each time his cock rammed deep into you. Threatening to push past your cervix when he sped up his movements.
Your toes curled, drool soaking the sheets as Toji fucked you dumb. Your puffy clit throbbing from the harsh hits of Toji’s heavy balls. “Nnh— ‘s so deep.” you mewled, getting nothing in return but a hard slap to your ass. “Yeah? Better fucking take it.” Toji grunted, his tip kissing your g spot meanly before poking against the skin of your stomach. Creating a visible bulge for everyone to see.
Toji’s head fell back with a groan, his other hand on your hip pulling you onto his cock to match his thrusting pace.
Your brain was foggy. Dizzy even. Your vision clouding as you approached yet another orgasm. Toji’s hand on your neck forcing your head up to face the main camera. “That’s it, show them how good this dick is fucking you. Wanna hear you say it.”
You let out a scream like moan, your stomach burning with heat as your back arched. “F-fuckk— feels so good. Your cock is fucking me soooo good.” you mewled.
“Good girl. Now make a fucking mess.”
You came with a cry, squirting messily onto Toji’s cock and the bed below. Your body trembling and your eyes closing as you were fucked through your high.
In the next few hours Toji had fucked you in all kinds of positions. Your bottom half on the bed while your hands support med your frame on the floor. Toji at the end of the bed lowering his hips onto your sopping cunt. Your cries whiny at the overstimulation.
“Look at you, taking my cock like a fucking champ, bet those men must be wishing to get a feel of that pussy while jerking off.”
“Nngh— you’re not supposed to say that.” you let out a broken whine. Toji’s cock fucking down hard into you as gravity forced your wetness to run down your torso.
“Shit- it’s true. Pussy feels like fucking heaven, i’d want a feel if i was in their place.” He rasped, his breathing getting heavy as his cock twitched. Bringing you to another orgasm before manhandling you some more.
Fucking you in full nelson as you sobbed from all the pleasure. “I can’t— nngh, i can’t.. ‘s too much.” Sweat covering his body as he breathed into your ear. “You can take it. Fuck- just give me two more yeah?”
Holding you directly in the camera’s sight when your pussy gushed. Streams of the clear liquid spraying messily into the air. Toji whistling lowly at the distance it reached.
Then he was bouncing you on his cock, your body falling limp into his chest as he moved your hips. Incoherent babbles falling past your lips as you drenched his thighs. An accidental daddy slipping past your lips as you began to rock back and forth weakly.
“Shit, call me that again.”
“Nngh— d-daddy,” you mewled loudly, your noises high pitched as your clit bumped against his pelvic region.
Toji groaned, “Fuck- you’re driving me crazy. Who’s your daddy baby? Who’s fucking this slutty pussy so good?”
Your legs quivered, clenching down hard as your head fell onto his shoulders. “Y-you. Haah.. you are.” Letting out a short choked scream as your orgasm washed over you painfully. Creaming his cock with a shaky string of whimpers.
Toji letting out a deep chant of curses as he finally allowed himself to release. “Shit- can i cum in ya sweetheart?” Only to look down to find you gone. Passed out against him as your chest rose and fell softly. “Fucking hell.” His voice cracking ever so slightly as he pumped endless amounts of cum into you. Stuffing your cunt to the brim in the thick white substance.
Lifting you off his cock for the camera to see your pussy flutter, his cum running lewdly out of your in spurts.
“Shit.. really fucked ya hard didn’t i,” Toji bit his lip from under his mask. Pulling it off his face to wink at the camera with a short wave and a smirk. “Hey there.” Laying you down onto the bed and placing a kiss to your lips with a sigh. “Let’s see if i can find anything in this big ass place.”
Walking away to find a warm rag or something to clean you up. Leaving the camera running not only because he didn’t know how to use it. But to at least show these people what even the slightest aftercare looked like.
If you decided to keep that part in, that was.
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Gojo n Geto. Friday 4:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.
When you asked Gojo and Geto, the two insisted that they tag teamed you. And you were more than willing to try.
You greeted the two at the door with a smile, being embraced on both sides by the towering men. Gojo smirked, “hi baby,” while Geto placed a kiss to your neck, “hello princess.”
“Hey guys.”
Gojo whistled, “You look so fucking hot in that robe baby, can’t wait to take it off ya.” You giggled, grabbing their hands and pulling them up to the room. “So this is what fucking yourself for some horny men gets you..” Geto laughed.
“So you guys have two options, i can crop and blur out your faces or you can wear these.” Holding up two masks for which both men shook their heads. Geto grinned, “Fuck.. i’m hard just thinking about what we’re going to do to you.”
You found yourself on your hands and knees, Geto fucking roughly into while Gojo fucked your face. Your moans and cries muffled as you were rocked back and forth.
“Shit,” Geto grunted, kneading at the soft flesh of your ass before landing a hard smack, “pussy’s so fucking tight.” You mewled onto Gojo’s cock, gagging and sputtering slightly at his length as he mercilessly slammed into your throat. Heavy balls slapping your chin with each movement.
Your eyes became teary, the feeling of Geto’s cock hammering your g spot making your head feel fuzzy as you whimpered. Your back arching with a string of cries and your breathing speeding up.
The two men watched as your body trembled, your tits shaking lewdly as squelching noises filled the air. Gojo groaned, his hand on your head forcing you to bob up and down his cock even faster as tears stained your cheeks.
The angled camera picking up the way you were destroyed on both ends. Your pussy clenching on Geto’s cock as a thick creamy ring formed at his base. You let out a short moan each time Geto’s cock bullied its way deeper.
Your words incoherent as you shakily announced that you were close. Your hand reaching down to rub at your clit with a high pitched cry.
“That’s it pretty girl. Fucking cum for us.” Gojo groaned, his head falling back as he approached his own release. Your eyes rolled back as you came messily, squirting uncontrollably onto the bed and Geto’s thighs. The black haired man only grunting deeply at the force. “Good fucking girl.. making a mess just like a little slut.”
“Think you can take both of us at once?” Gojo questioned, and you swallowed hard when he pulled out of your mouth. His cock dripping sloppily with your spit. His fingers reached under your chin, lifting your head to look up at him. “What do you say baby?”
You whimpered, “O-okay.” Making both males grin.
Gojo grabbed the black mask, hurriedly putting it over his head before throwing one to Geto, the other man putting his on as well before getting themselves in place.
Geto sat at the edge of the bed with you on his lap, his lips on your ear as he whispered, “If it hurts too much at any point i will stop okay?” You nodded in agreement, shivering as Geto used your wetness as lube.
His cock prodding at your ass before lowering you down slowly. You’d used toys for anal before, so it wasn’t bad apart from the small sting from his girth.
You moaned softly, your back on Geto’s chest with your front facing the main camera. The side camera picking up the way Gojo came up in front of you, Geto holding your legs up for his best friend to line up with your tightness.
You mewled loudly when Gojo thrusted into you. Your chest rising and falling rapidly at the fullness. You could feel both their cocks pushing against each other as they went deeper. Feeling them all the way in your stomach as you allowed yourself to get used to it.
You gave a nod signaling you were ready, your head resting on Geto’s shoulder while your nails dug into his biceps. Moaning loudly when they wasted no time in simultaneously fucking into you.
Matching each other’s rhythm until you were crying out shakily, small tears staining your cheek as you clenched down in both ends. The two men grunting as they relentlessly drilled both your holes. Geto pulling out when Gojo thrusted in and Gojo pulling out when Geto thrusted in.
The two worked to find a pace that drove you over the edge, your mouth hung open in non stop cries as a coil built in your stomach. “Nngh— ‘m close.. feels so good.” You moaned, your vision blurring as your toes curled.
Gojo’s thumb swiped across your bottom lip, “Yeah? Is our little baby gonna cum for us again?” He cooed, pushing his thumb past your lips for you to swirl your tongue around. A hum sounding in his throat before his palm connected with your cheek. A small yelp leaving you before your mouth was stuffed by his fingers again.
“Look at you taking both of us so well. Little fucking slut.” Geto gritted before groaning deeply, “If ya keep squeezing me like that sweetheart, i’m gonna cum.”
You barely processed his words, your own high washing over you as you came. Your body shaking as you slobbered all over Gojo’s hand. Moaning out loudly while creaming his cock.
“Shit— there we go.” Geto breathed. Both he and Gojo husking out a curse as they both stilled. Pumping you full of cum from both ends. You swore you could feel your stomach swell when they finished.
You whimpered when Gojo slipped out of you first, his cum seeping out your pussy in spurts before Geto followed suit. Pulling out of your ass and allowing his cum to run out of the small gape.
Lifting you up and bending your folded body back. Revealing your leaking cunt and ass to the camera while you batted your lashes.
When you were done, both men fixed their hair from the mask. Gojo smirking widely as he panted, “Fuck baby, should’ve let us fuck you like this way sooner.”
Geto nodding in agreement, “Yeah, if i knew you could take cock so well i’d be dicking you down more often.”
Your cheeks heated, the two chuckling as you led them into your master bathroom for a group shower.. and more.
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ceilidho · 10 months
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prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.
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The job comes at the exact right time. 
The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go. 
Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself. 
At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender. 
He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.
You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours. 
Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave. 
You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice. 
The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.
Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss. 
You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic. 
Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.
Good soldier. Better boss. 
You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost. 
Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.
“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest. 
When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile. 
He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation. 
“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.
A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.” 
He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.
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waitimcomingtoo · 7 months
Text
Wasn’t Me
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Synopsis: when Vision accidentally phases through your wall and catches you and Peter in the act, you try to stop it from spreading to everyone in the tower before Tony gets home
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“Wait, this isn’t the kitchen.” Vision said as he accidentally phased through the bedroom wall. You and Peter froze at the sound of a third voice and slowly looked up. Every time you snuck off to have some private time with each other, you made sure to lock the door. But despite all your best efforts to keep your relationship a secret, neither of you accounted for Vision coming through the wall. Especially not when you were right in the middle of….something.
“Oh. Hello.” Vision said and gave you and Peter a polite wave. The act he had caught you did not seem to phase him at all while you and Peter were horrified.
“AHHHH.” You and Peter screamed at the same time. You rolled off of Peter and landed right on the floor while Peter grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap.
“Forgive me for intruding, but I am looking for the kitchen.” She said to meet her in the kitchen.” Vision asked politely.
“Well you’re not gonna find it here!” You exclaimed as you threw your shirt back on.
“Dude! Get out! ” Peter shouted as he hastily tried to zip his pants.
“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Vision genuinely asked.
“YES!” You screamed like it was obvious.
“My apologies. I bid you both a good day.” Vision nodded curtly and disappeared back the way he came. You and Peter stayed in silence for a while as you processed what had happened.
“Do you think he saw us?” Peter asked to break the silence. You sat up from under him and gave him a look.
“Do I think he saw us?” You repeated slowly.
“Well do you?” Peter asked as you climbed back onto the bed.
“Are you kidding me? Of course he saw! The straw was already in the coconut. There’s no way he didn’t realize what was going on.”
“Maybe he thought we were just wrestling?” Peter shrugged weakly.
“Uh huh. Wresting with your dick out. Just like WWE.” You said sarcastically.
“Damn it. He definitely saw us. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Peter worried.
“He better not. My dad will kill you. And then vaporize your corpse. And then set the ashes on fire. And then blow them into a shrimp cocktail.”
“But I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“Exactly.” You whispered.
“Oh shit.” Peter gulped. “We need to go find Vision and make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”
“Let’s go. He’s probably charging or in a bowl of rice or something.” You said and lead Peter out of the room. You went into the kitchen and found Vision at the breakfast table.
“Hey Vision.” Peter smiled awkwardly as you stood beside him.
“Hello, Peter.” Vision said politely.
“So, about the little snafu from before. We just want to make sure you don’t tell anybody about what you saw.”
“Yeah. Because it wasn’t what it looked like.” You added.
“Oh, no? It looked like the two do you were engaging in sexually explicit activity.” Vision replied. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look and tried to think of a way out of this.
“It looked like that, yes, but that’s not what we were doing.” Peter lied as you nodded along.
“Hm. That’s funny. I can detect heart rates and both of you appear to be lying.” Vision said with genuine curiosity.
“We’re not lying, silly.” You forced a laugh. “My heart is racing because I haven’t had any food yet but I drank a bunch of coffee.”
“You know women and their pumpkin spice lattes.” Peter added, earning himself a jab in the side.
“Watch it.” You said through a smile.
“And my heart just beats fast because I have the heart rate of a spider.” Peter added. “No lying here.”
“Oh, I see. But if you two weren’t engaging in sexual activity, what were you doing?” Vision questioned.
“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head and tried to think of something.
“Peter was just choking on a pretzel and I was getting it out of his throat.” You jumped in.
“With your tongue?” Vision asked.
“Yes?” Peter said weakly.
“With your shirts off?”
“It’s a new technique.” You deadpanned.
“I’m not aware of this technique. Can you demonstrate on me?” Vision asked you.
“Absolutely not.” Peter snapped and stepped between you and Vision. Vision looked at Peter in confusion and you had to jump in again.
“Because it didn’t work.” You explained. “He still choked.”
“He seems fine to me. Although, I am detecting some slight discomfort in the abdomen.” Vision said as he looked Peter up and down.
“I have a tummy ache.” Peter admitted and patted his stomach.
“Would you like me to conduct a physical exam?” Vision asked and held up both his hands.
“No. I probably just have to fart.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.
“So are we cool? You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw?” Peter asked Vision.
“We are cool. I will not be telling anyone what I didn’t see.” Vision confirmed.
“Okay. Good.” You sighed in relief.
“Except for Wanda.” He added. “Because I already told her. I tell her everything. I love her quite dearly.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned even louder.
“What did you tell her you saw?” Peter asked him.
“Just you were engaging in-“
“It wasn’t sexual activity!” You exclaimed. “He was choking and I was saving his life.”
“Then why was his penis out?” Vision asked Peter.
“Because…it…was… cold.” Peter said slowly, hating himself with every word.
“Oh my God. Both of you need to stop.” You stated. “Do you think Wanda going to tell anyone about what you thought you saw but didn’t actually see?”
“I’m not sure.” Vision replied. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Fine. We can ask her.” You sighed and pulled Peter by the hand and brought him to where Wanda was reading on the balcony.
“I don’t want to. She’s scary.” Peter whispered to you.
“We have to talk to her and find out what she knows before she tells my dad.” You whispered back.
“I can whisper too.” Wanda whispered as she suddenly appeared behind the two of you. You both screamed and jumped apart as she laughed. You grabbed Peters hand and ran away, brushing past Natasha as you went.
“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” Natasha chuckled as she watched you run by.
“They are.” Wanda agreed. “You know, Vision caught them doing it before.”
“What? No way.”
“Yeah. He said he accidentally phased through Peters bedroom wall and caught them.”
“Oh God. Yuck. New fear unlocked. That’s hilarious though.” Natasha laughed at the thought.
“What’s hilarious?” Steve asked as he came into the room.
“Vision caught Y/n and Peter doing it.” Natasha told him.
“What?” Steve laughed. “No way.”
“That’s what I said!” Natasha laughed.
“Honestly, I kinda figured they were doing it. They are the only two in the tower around that age. And lord knows Peter is hornier than an…animal with horns.” Steve said weakly when he couldn’t think of an animal.
“Rhino?” Wanda asked.
“I was thinking Triceratops.” Steve admitted.
“Wait, isn’t there a rule again dating on the team?” Nat asked. “At least, that’s what Tony tells me and Bruce every time we make eye contact.”
“If he had a problem with that, he’s definitely gonna have a rule against one of us dating his daughter. Especially Peter.”
“I thought Peter was a nice boy, no?” Wanda asked.
“He is.” Steve nodded. “But all Tony will see is that he’s a boy who Vision caught with his daughter. He’s gonna blow Peter into a million pieces.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what Vision walked in on.” Wanda mumbled. From across the room, you and Peter were peeking out from behind a wall to watch them all talk.
“This is bad. They’re all laughing and saying our names.” Peter whispered to you.
“Do you think Wanda told?”
“I don’t know. What if she made them all see it with her mind powers?”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s evil and not to be trusted!” Peter whispered harshly.
“We just need to talk to her and find out what she knows. Maybe she didn’t even believe Vision.”
“Do we have to?” Peter whined. “What if she enters my mind palace?”
“She wouldn’t find much.” You mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, sweetie.” You patted his cheek and pulled him out from behind the wall. Natasha and Steve had left at that point and Wanda had gone back to her book.
“Hey, Wanda.” You said with an awkward wave.
“Oh. Hello. I haven’t seen you two in forever. What have you been up to?” Wanda said sarcastically.
“Not much. Same soup, just reheated. You know the vibes. So, uh, we just wanted to talk to you about something. Something Vision might have said.” You began.
“Oh. You mean you two swallowing each other alive in Peters room?” Wanda asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and Peter let out a loud gulp.
“Vision doesn’t know what he saw.” You told her.
“Vision is made from the highest form of artificial intelligence. He knows everything.”
“Okay.” You said mockingly. “But he doesn’t know in this specific situation.”
“He’s programmed to access a situation down to every last detail in case there is a threat of danger. And it seemed the only threat of danger in Peters room that day was running out of oxygen. Or maybe a broken pelvis.”
“I’m flattered but I’m not that good.” Peter said humbly.
“He’s right. He isn’t.” You nodded in agreement.
“What was that?” Peter asked you.
“We just want to make sure whatever Vision told you about what he thinks he saw isn’t going to be told to anyone else.” You said to Wanda.
“Now hold on.” Peter tried to go back to what he had heard.
“Secrets safe with me.” Wanda smiled and zipped her lips.
“And me.” Bruce said from behind you. You and Peter whipped around and saw Bruce staring at you while eating a bowl of cereal.
“What?! Were you in here the whole time?” Peter asked.
“Yeah. Wanda, you are funny. How come I never noticed that?” Bruce chuckled.
“I’m not sure.” Wanda shrugged. “You tell me.”
“God damn it. Are either of you going to tell anyone what Vision saw?” You asked and pointed at Wanda and Bruce.
“I thought Vision didn’t see anything?” Wanda smirked.
“Right. Is anyone going to tell my dad about what Vision thinks he saw but definitely didn’t see?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe? I don’t understand the question. Can you reword it? Or maybe write it down so I can see it?” Bruce asked.
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “I thought you were the smart one.”
“Ouch. Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being mean to me?” Bruce asked Peter.
“I’m not his girlfriend because we weren’t engaging in sexual activity because we’re not dating. Everyone got that?” You asked angrily.
“Got it.” Wanda nodded.
“No, sorry. Still confused. So you are dating but Vision didn’t catch you guys doing it?” Bruce asked so genuinely that you wanted to scream.
“No, he definitely did.” Wanda snorted. You looked at her in betrayal and she smiled apologetically.
“Oh. Now I get it. You guys are dating and Vision did catch you having sex.” Bruch realized. “But what are we not telling Tony?”
“No one is telling Mr. Stark anything. Everyone just keep your mouth shut about the activities, which may or may not have been sexual in nature, that Vision allegedly walked in on. Okay?” Peter exclaimed.
“My lips are sealed.” Wanda assured you. “Well, now they are. Because I already told Steve and Nat. But that was before you asked me not to tell anyone.”
“Oh my God. Find. Can we trust you?” You asked Bruce.
“I’m not gonna rat. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” Peter nodded. “You’re dismissed.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” Bruce snapped and walked away.
“Jesus Christ.” Peter whispered and felt genuinely offended by the tone. You took his hand and brought him away from Wanda to regroup.
“We need to get ahead of this before anyone else finds out we’re secretly dating.” You told him.
“You guys are secretly dating?” Sam asked as he came into the hallway, making you both jump.
“Damn it!” Peter shouted and hit the wall.
“Oh great. Captain fucking America knows now.” You grumbled.
“Since when are you two a thing?” Sam laughed and looked between you and Peter.
“Two months.” You admitted.
“Two months? And Tony still doesn’t know?”
“Do you think Peter would be alive right now if my dad knew?” You asked and gestured to Peter.
“That’s a joke, right?” Peter laughed nervously.
“I guess not.” Sam shrugged.
“Are you gonna tell my dad?” You asked him.
“No.” Sam replied.
“Cool. Thanks.” You sighed in relief.
“But only if-“
“Mother fucker.” You exclaimed now that there was a new obstacle.
“Only if you promise to never bring up that one time with the TV.” Sam continued.
“You mean when you got caught-“
“Zip it.” Sam cut you off. “Or I’ll tell Daddy Warbucks about your affair with Little Orphan Annie here.”
“This whole conversation has been wildly emasculating.” Peter mumbled.
“I never saw anything.” You told Sam.
“Good.” He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
You went to shake hands when your phone started to ring. You looked at Peter curiously and pulled it out of your pocket.
“Hang on. Hello?”
“Hey short stack. I’m landing in 20 minutes. I can see that most of the team is in the tower today so I thought we could all have a nice, family dinner in the dining room. How does that sound?” Tony asked you through the phone.
“The entire team? In the dinning room? For dinner? Tonight?” You asked as panic grew in your chest.
“Are you playing a one man game of Clue? Just let everyone know, will you?” Tony asked.
“Sure, daddy. No problem.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter with wide eyes.
“Thanks, peach. See you soon.” Tony said before having up.
“Shit balls.” You whispered once you were off the phone.
“Was that super good news?” Peter asked hopefully.
“My dad wants the whole team in the dinning room for family dinner.” You said and held your breath for his reaction.
“Son of a…” Peter started to shout and then quieted down, “shart mama.”
“I know. It’s bad.”
“This has gotten so out of hand. I’ve never taken this many L’s in a row. I don’t know if I can take anymore. My body is shutting down. I haven’t peed all day.” Peter said as he paced back and forth.
“Keep it together.” You said as you gripped his shoulders.
“Oh no. This is going to be so awkward.” Sam laughed at your misfortune.
“Why? Because everyone knows we’re secretly dating except for Mr. Stark and they also know Mr. Stark will kill them for knowing and not telling him right away so tonight will be a long, uncomfortable game of who tells him first?” Peter asked all in one breath.
“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Sam nodded and looked at Peter strangely.
“I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered and turned to you.
“We all have to go.” You told him. “He’ll get sus if we’re not all there.”
“But what if your dad kills me?” Peter whined.
“Then I’ll wait at least three months before getting a new boyfriend.” You smiled sweetly and patted his chest.
“You can do that but I’ll just haunt him and kill him in his sleep.” Peter smiled back.
“Oh my God. Come on. We have to go get ready for dinner.” You said and pulled Peter to your room.
30 minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room with Tony at the head of the table. You and Peter nervously peered through the doorway to see what the set up was.
“What’s our plan?” Peter asked you.
“Sit far away from each other and diverge the conversation every time my dad gets close to happening upon the truth.”
“Okay. How hard can that be? We never get together for family dinner. They’ll all be talking so much that you and I won’t even come up.”
You and Peter took your seats at the table with you next to your dad and Peter further away. You made eye contact with Peter and nodded to let him know that you were in this together. Everyone stayed dead silent as the food was passed around and Tony was quick to notice.
“Why is everyone so quiet? Did Sam leave porn on the big TV again?” Tony asked as he chewed his food. You gulped and looked at Peter in a panic. You had been wrong about everyone talking and keeping the attention away from you. Instead, everyone was silent and tense since they didn’t want to be the one to let Tony know what Vision had seen.
“That was one time.” Sam defended.
“But how could we ever forget?” Tony teased him.
“I just wanted to watch Mama Mia. My eyes were burned.” Bucky said as he shut his eyes to keep out the memory.
“Let it go.” Sam said flatly.
“I don’t remember that.” You said robotically. Sam gave you a discreet thumbs up across the table.
“What? You were the one that found it.” Tony reminded you.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. I think you’re all remembering incorrectly.” You said with no much stiffness it sounded like you were reading from a prompter. Tony looked around the table and everyone avoided eye contact with him. They mindlessly pushed their food around their plates to look busy so that Tony wouldn’t ask them anything.
“Why is everyone acting weird?” Tony asked.
“What? We’re not. You’re being weird, dad.” You forced a laugh and patted Tony’s arm.
“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “So, Pete the treat. Any romantic interests at school?”
Everyone turned to stare at Peter, who was in the middle of taking a sip from his glass. Peter started choking on his water for a long time. No one made any effort to help Peter so he just sat there choking for an uncomfortably long period of time. Everyone stayed silent as he Peter coughed, turned red, and clapped his chest to try and get the water out. When he was finally done, he was crying and bright red.
“What?” Peter asked horsely.
“Peter doesn’t want to talk about girls, dad.” You laughed nervously. Everyone exchanged looks while also sneaking glances at you and Peter.
“He does with me. Come on. My dad never bothered with this stuff and I want to break the cycle. Tell me about your love life.” Tony insisted and playfully patted the table. You shot daggers at Peter and everyone turned to look at him. Peter felt sweat dripping down his forehead and smiled nervously.
“There’s no one, Mr. Stark. No girls.”
“I don’t buy that for a second. I can see the hormones brewing in your eyes. You’re sweating just at the thought of her. I know there’s a girl.”
“Maybe.” Peter squeaked out.
“See? I knew it. Tell me about her. She cute?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you for a brief second and quickly looked away.
“Yeah, yeah. She’s gorgeous. Really pretty.”
“She’s all right.” Sam shrugged, making everyone stifle a laugh as your jaw dropped.
“Fuck did you just say?” Peter snapped.
“I was kidding. Damn.” Sam held up his hands in defense.
“Damn, indeed.” Tony laughed. “Way to stand up for your girl, kid. She’s a lucky lady.”
“Thank you, sir.” Peter said and hoped that was the end of the conversation.
“You really are a good kid, Peter. I don’t tell you enough. I was just saying this to Pepper the other day, but if anyone is ever brave enough to try and date my daughter, I hope they’re like you.” Tony said sincerely. This time, you started choking as everyone murmured with amusement.
“Really?” Peter asked hopefully. He looked at you but you didn’t dare make eye contact.
“Yeah. Sure, you’re pretty annoying and way too eager at times, but you’re a good kid. You’re responsible, you care about other people, and you know how to get a decent haircut.” Tony continued.
“So you’d give Peter your blessing? If he and I ever wanted to date?” You asked skeptically.
“Absolutely not.” Tom said immediately.
“What?” Your face dropped. “But you just said-“
“I said I hope the person you date is like Peter.” Tony specified. “But Peter would never be allowed to date you.”
“Why not?” Peter asked and you shot him a look. Everyone else kept their heads down and turned away from Tony so he wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Not that I care. Psh. Peter is lame. I would never date Peter. Haha. But yeah, why not?” You asked your dad.
“Because he’s a superhero. And no daughter of mine is dating a superhero.”
“But you’re a superhero.” You pointed out. “And mom married you.”
“I know. That’s why I’d never allow you to go down the same path. I’ve missed hundreds dates, thousands of calls, and a million important moments because I was off being a superhero. I was saving the world but I was hurting the person I love most in the process. I don’t want that life for you. If Peter was an average guy off the street, I’d be thrilled to know you were dating him. But Peter isn’t average.”
“I know that.” You replied, starting to get annoyed now that your dad was trying to tell you that you couldn’t do something. You were already doing it, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to know that he couldn’t make your choices for you.
“Ayo. Yeah she does.” Sam snorted. Everyone gasped and looked at him, making him freeze. You and Peter stared daggers at Sam who smiled sheepishly.
“Oops?”
“You little bitch.” You mouthed across the table at him. Tom noticed the way everyone reacted and grew suspicious. He looked at you and noticed you weren’t making eye contact. He then looked at Peter, who looked like he was about to pass out.
“What was that?” Tony asked Sam.
“Nothing.” Sam scoffed and went back to eating.
“Samuel. Tell me what you just said.” Tony said with an eerily calm smile.
“I don’t want to.” Sam whispered.
“Tell me or I will shove your wings so far up your ass-“
“I said she knows Peter isn’t average.” Sam admitted before Tony could finish his sentence. You buried your face in your hands while Peter chewed off all of his fingernails.
“What does that mean?” Tony asked and turned to you.
“I can confirm that as well.” Vision raised his finger as he spoke up. You and Peter looked at Vision in betrayal while everyone else stayed silent.
“Oh my God.” You whispered and rubbed your face.
“What? What’s the big red giant talking about?” Tony asked you again, sounding angry this time. Before you had a chance to think of something, Vision spoke up.
“I’m talking about how I accidentally caught them fornicating earlier today, sir. Also, am I required to be here? I can’t actually eat food.” Vision said politely. Everyone was dead silent as Tony processed what he was hearing. No one dared to look up from their plates or even move a muscle.
“You know what? Vision is right. We should actually all leave. And never return. Bye!” You said and got up from the table. Tony grabbed the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.
“Nobody move.” He said in a low voice. Silence fell over the table again as Tony slowly looked to Peter. That’s when he noticed that Peter had passed out and had his limp head in his dinner plate.
“Wake the son of a bitch up.” Tony ordered. Wanda lifted Peters head by his hair and a green bean stuck to his cheek and forehead.
“Peter?” Tony asked, but Peter didn’t wake up. Wanda shook him, then took his pulse to see if he was even alive.
“He’s unresponsive.” She reported.
“Jesus Christ.” You groaned to yourself as you watched Wanda and Steve try to wake Peter up.
“He peed his pants.” Steve announced, making you groan even louder.
“PETER!” Tony shouted as he banged on the table. Peter woke up and looked around in confusion. Tony slowly stood up and leaned over the table while staring daggers at Peter.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on.” Tony demanded. No one said anything, so you bit the bullet and stood up as well.
“Dad, Peter and I are dating. Vision caught us before and the whole team found out about it. That’s what’s going on, okay? Please, don’t kill my boyfriend.”
“What?” Tony asked as he slumped back in his seat. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset, but it was definitely not good.
“Sam was watching porn on the big screen!” You blurted and pointed to Sam.
“You said you didn’t see anything!” Sam pointed back at you.
“That was before you didn’t hold up your end of the deal!” You shouted.
“Shut up, both of you. Are you kidding me right now? You’re dating Peter Parker?” Tony asked in a calmer voice.
“Yes, daddy. I am. I have been for two months. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be mad and we just wanted some time together before you forced us apart. I wouldn’t normally lie to you like this but I knew you’d never allow us to be together and I love him. I just needed to love him for as long as I could before the world knew. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me.” You said as you took your dads hands. Tony stared at you for a long time and finally, put his hand on your cheek.
“I could never be mad at you, princess.” Tony said kindly. You smiled in surprise as Peter let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m gonna turn Peter inside out, though.” Tony said sweetly before lunging at Peter. He punched Peter right in the throat, making Peter collapse to the ground. You rushed to Peters side as Tony shook out his hand.
“Dad! You can’t hit him that hard. He’s only 5’8. He could’ve died.” You yelled at Tony as you pulled Peters head into your lap.
“That didn’t even hurt.” Peter wheezed out as he clutched his throat. Tony wound up to hit Peter again, but stopped when he saw something that surprised him. He watched Peter reached up and touch your face as he whispered to you that everything was going to be all right. He thought he had just been punched in the throat and was awaiting the punishment of a lifetime, his priority was to comfort you when you were upset. Tony then knelt down beside Peter and helped him sit up.
“I’m sorry, kid. I should not have hit you. It was a slight overreaction.” Tony sincerely apologized.
“Slight?” Peter croaked out.
“I just wasn’t expecting to come home to this news. But if it’s been two months and my daughter says she’s this in love, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”
“Mr. Stark, I know it’s probably hard to think about your daughter dating someone with a life as unpredictable as ours, but I don’t put anything above her. If I’m out on patrol, chances are, she’s hanging out on a rooftop with a walkie talkie telling me where to go. If I have to miss a date to take care of something, I take her with me. She’s my partner in all of this. I don’t leave her waiting around for a text back all night. She comes first.”
“Actually, “Vision began, “when I entered your room, it seemed as though Peter was going-“
“Do not finish that sentence, jumbo tampon.” You cut him off.
“You can trust me, Mr. Stark. You can trust us.” Peter said as he wrapped an arm around you. Tony looked between the two of you for a while but didn’t say anything.
“Please, daddy.” You whispered. Tony finally caved and smiled softly.
“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’m not gonna kill Peter. You have my blessing, underoos.” Tony said as he helped Peter off the floor.
“Really? You’re not gonna force us apart?” You asked hopefully as you wrapped your arm around Peters.
“I’m not.” Tony confirmed. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. But if he breaks your heart, he’s getting turned inside out. At least for a day. I cannot compromise on that.”
“Deal!” You clapped your hands before hugging your dad.
“Hold up, do I get a say in that deal?” Peter questioned.
“Don’t push your luck, kid. After what Vision walked in on you doing with Tony’s kid, you’re lucky to be alive right now.” Bruce said as he patted Peter on the back. Tony frowned as he pulled out of the hug.
“Hold on, what exactly did Vision walk in on?” Tony asked. Peter motioned for everyone to keep their mouths shut as Tony looked around the room. When no one answered him, he looked at you expectingly.
“So.” You laughed nervously. “Dessert, anyone?”
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@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @loudthoughts-softspoken
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@ciarahollands
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landosjpg · 4 days
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ablaze | ln
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the one where your boyfriend doesn’t pay attention to you.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~0.9k
warnings: pwp (MDNI), oral (m receiving), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
note: based on this request. kind of short and not proofread cause i’ve been sick all week! also the paragraphs in italics are meant to be a flashback? or whatever you want to call it
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the whole apartment was dead silent; that was, without taking into account the loud pants that came from your boyfriend’s lips.
one of his hands was softly cradling the back of your head as you were on your knees before him, right between his thighs. your legs were sore, lips puffy and numb from how long you had been sucking him off.
and it was cruel, when you felt him twitching inside your mouth and a soft “fuck” coming from his lips reached your ears and you immediately stopped.
a shaky sigh left his lips when you rested your cheek on his thigh and his hand let go of your head, his eyes closing at the realization that you were denying him. again.
୨୧
“give me one minute,” he softly whispered into your ear.
“you said that five minutes ago, lando,” you groaned, your face hiding in the crook of his neck. maybe a few kisses would convince him to turn his game off and give you all his attention.
but of course, he was too focused on not dying, he barely even reacted.
he clicked his tongue when you insisted and nibbled on his skin, “let me finish this one game, baby.”
you sighed at his words and climbed off his lap after murmuring a soft “okay” before disappearing into the kitchen.
what you expected to be no more than fifteen minutes, however, turned into two hours. normally, the giggles and screams coming from his gaming room as he played with his friends wouldn’t have upset you in the slightest; but this time, when you were so needy and he was so unbothered, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed.
so when he was finally done and called you, you decided he wouldn’t have his way that easily.
୨୧
“you alright?” you asked, looking up at him from where you were still between his legs, his chest heaving and a few tears rolling down his cheeks. you almost felt bad.
“s’too much,” he mumbled.
“want me to stop?” your voice was now sweet, gentle, as the tip of your fingers traced little circles on the bare skin of his thighs, soothingly.
“no,” he quickly answered, making your smirk grow wider. despite of his plea, you stood up with a last kiss to his tip.
he looked at you as you climbed onto his lap again, your legs straddling his thighs as his shaky hands quickly reached for your hips and pulled you down on him.
“why are you stopping?” he whined, his voice trembling and still teary-eyed.
“i’m not,” you whispered, grinding your hips down on his cock, making his eyes close and his head to be thrown back into the headrest of his chair.
another tear fell down his cheek accompanied with a shaky sigh; and fuck, he looked so cute like that you swore you could’ve come yourself just from the sight of him completely spent before you.
your hands rested on his neck as you attacked his lips, rocking your hips back and forth at a slow pace just to keep him on the edge.
“need to be inside you,” he uttered in between kisses, fingers squeezing your waist.
“need to?” your tone was mocking, a light chuckle leaving your lips.
“please, fuck,” he insisted, with a thin voice that almost makes you melt. and you couldn’t wait anymore, hence why your hand slid under your — his— shirt. luckily, you were just wearing your underwear, which you easily pulled to the side.
a long, breathy moan left his lips when you slowly sank down on him, hands gripping your thighs.
“feels so good, baby,” he groaned as you started rocking your hips, slowly picking up the pace of your movements.
he leaned back, hips jutting up to meet yours; your walls clenching at how full you felt. and it was a matter of seconds until he was a whiny mess under you, fingertips bruising your skin as a string of courses left his lips.
your eyes fixed on his fucked out expression when his dick twitched inside you, soon paintings your walls white.
he was breathless, looked so out of it you almost stop; but he hissed as you slowed down and held you tight against him, hands trying to guide your movements and keep you going.
his whimpers filled your ears as you slowly fucked yourself on his cock, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. his fingers found your clit, fingertips lazily rubbing the sensitive nub and soon your pussy was clenching, earning a low groan from him as you came around him.
you cupped your boyfriend’s cheek with your hand once you had caught your breath, gently pulling his head back to look at him. at the sight of the remaining tears on his face, you softly chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.
“everything good?” you mumbled, noticing how his eyes were closed once more.
he hummed, “never felt better,” a lazy smile painted his lips now. “think i should start ignoring you more often.”
at his last sentence you simply rolled your eyes, arms wrapping around his body and leaning into him again, cuddling until both of you had enough energy to drag yourselves to your shared bedroom.
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spyder-junkie · 11 months
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I just cant stop thinking of Earth-42! miles with a reader that falls for prowler first.
(had to rewrite this post because it didnt save the first time *frustration*)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X Reader
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I imagine you’ve snuck out, leaving your apartment in the middle of the night unbeknownst to your parents.
Youre walking down to your house under the cover of darkness when quickly you notice your being followed.
You curse silently.
The man behind you is much bigger than you are, and youre not sure you could fight him off if it came to it.
You start taking random turns, leading the man away from your apartment building, but as you being to pass an alley way, he grabs you, ducking you in.
He has you against a wall, his forearm holding your neck to the bricks.
“Youre real beautiful, do me a favor and keep quiet.” You flinch as his voice, hands shaking as your eyes begin to water.
Then suddenly theres a ‘whoosh’ and the man falls to the ground, dead.
You look up to your rescuer, and its the prowler, a well know criminal in the area.
Your heart beats in your ears as he begins to walk away, boots clanking down the sidewalk.
You run after him.
“Thank you!” You say, jogging to keep up with his strides.
“You really saved my ass.”
“It’s dangerous out at night.” He huffs, voiced warbled by the mask. You let out a little chuckle.
“Yeah…” You stop walking.
“Could you walk me home? please?”
The prowler stops walking, most likely contemplating what he should do. Then he lets out another sigh.
“You owe me.” He states firmly, turnning around to face you.
You smile, carefully wrapping your hand around two if his clawed, gloved fingers and leading him in the opposite direction.
The walk was almost silent, you taking occasional glances at the villian by your side. You noticed he had two thick braids that cascaded down his neck.
What you didnt notice was the glances he spared at you.
When the two if you reached your apartment, he watched as you climbed the fire escape to your window. You open it, climbing inside. Then you pole your head back out, mouthing a ‘thank you!’ and waving down at the prowler.
you wait expectantly for him to wave back, smiling once he finally does.
Then he disappears.
You didnt know if you would ever see the masked villian again.
So imagine your surprise two weeks later when theres a knock at your window.
It was around 8pm, you were working on a school assignment when the sound of metal tapping glass hit your ears.
You turn in your spinning chair, eyes widened at the sight of prowler crouched in your window.
You rush to unlock it, pullibg up the glass pane and letting the night air in.
“Missed me?” You ask, trying to mask the shaking in your voice.
“Do you have a digital alarm clock?” He asks, ignoring your question all together.
You think for a moment.
“I might have my old one in my closet.” You say, not giving him a chance to reply before you turned on your heel.
You expected him to follow you, but he didnt, staying perched in the window and looking around your bedroom from the outside.
He waited as you rummaged through your things.
Then suddenly you emerged, holding an alarm clock, the cord trailing behind you.
What do you need it for?” you ask.
“Mechanical parts.” was his vauge reply.
, you hand it to him.
He held it in one of his clawed hands, getting ready to depart. That was until you crossed your arms and loudly cleared your throat.
He looked at you.
“Thank you?” You raise an eyebrow.
“……..Thanks.” He mumbles, just before jumping off the fire escape and disappearing again.
The next time you see him is well over a month later.
Its a little past 3am, and you’re well into needed sleep.
Then theres another knock at you window.
A bunch of knocks actually. You hear the metal tapping sound until you rise from your bed, annoyed to say the least.
When you see Prowler at your window once again, you pick up the pace moving to the window to open it.
This time, as soon as you life the pane, he steps in.
Or he tries to, he trips, his body hitting the ground softly next to your bed.
“Woah- are you alright…” You ask, panicked.
He doesn’t answer.
“Prowler….?” You ask, closing the window.
Still no answer.
“pleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedeadpleasedontbedead…” You press your ear to his metal chest, bending down to his laying position.
Hes breathing.
You sigh in relief.
You sit and think for a moment before carefully sitting him up.
You try your best to remove all the parts of his suit, placing them in a neat pile in your closet as you go.
You realize theres a flesh wound on the side of his ribs, and a couple cuts and bruises elsewhere.
After immense debate, you hesitantly press the button on his mask, letting it move to the side to reveal his face.
Hes…handsome, you realize, and much younger than you imagined. There was a cut on his face and a bruise by his hairline, there was a bit of bleeding in his scalp, you assumed thats what caused him to pass out.
You tiptoe to the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit and begining to clean him up with a warm rag and bandages.
You even unbraid his hair, dressing the wound in his scalp and braiding it back in a way that wouldn’t irritate the healing.
He doesnt stir in the slightest, seemingly a heavy sleeper.
After you’re finished, you carefully move him to your bed, and cuddle up beside him. You get close, but dont touch him, then slowly you drift off to sleep.
When Miles wakes up, his initial response is panic. He begins to look around, trying to pinpoint where he is.
He flinches as he lifts his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning.” You say, emerging from the bathroom dressed for school the day.
He watches as you begin to do your hair in the mirror.
“G’mornin.” He mumbles, still watching you.
“How are you feeling?” You ask. He looks down, analyzing how you dressed his wounds.
“Im fine. Sore. You aint do too bad here.” He says. Now you can really hear his accent without the mask.
“Good. Good… you scared me yknow, I was worried.” You mumble.
Miles furrows his eyes, but he keeps quiet.
He watches as you grab you bookbag and your keys.
“Your suit is in my closet. I set out clean towels in my bathroom if you want to shower. My dad is gone for the day, you can make yourself something to eat if you’d like. Leave whenever you want, just please close my window when you go.” You say, hand on the doorframe.
“Okay………..….thank you.” he mumbles, still staring hard at you.
“You’re welcomeee…..” You leave the sentence open.
“…..Miles.” He says softly.
“Miles.” You repeat.
“Get some rest.” You say, opening the door.
“And dont be a stranger.”
His gaze lingers on the doorway even long after you’ve left.
And when you come home, Miles is gone.
The towels are in the hamper, his suit is gone from the closet, your bed is made, and the window is closed, its like he was never there at all.
But then sitting on your desk, theres $300 cash and a small note.
“Thanks again, Hermosa……-Miles”
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rafeysbafey · 3 months
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season 1 e6 where rafe gets kicked out by ward, he takes it out on you (super shitty SMUT) MDNI
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it was around one in the morning when you heard your front door open, the sound of footsteps trailing up the stairs and to your room setting you into a slight panic.
but all worries disappeared as soon as you saw the intruder was actually your boyfriend.
“rafe?” you questioned, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you sat up immediately, reaching over to turn on your lamp.
“ward kicked me out,” he mumbled, kicking off his shoes before peeling off his polo, tossing it into the corner of your room before climbing into bed with you.
“rafe that’s terrible-” before you could finish your sentence, he had you flipped on your stomach, ass exposed and in the air as he thrusted into you from behind.
his dick reached the spongey spot inside that had your eyes rolling back, tears running down your face at the brutal pace he kept on your pussy.
his balls slapped heavily against your ass, one hand wrapped around your neck while the other came down to hold your hip in place.
“im in charge, baby,” he groaned, his thrusts brutal causing your ass to ripple with each one.
“fuck, rafe- im cumming,” you whimpered, moans bouncing off the wall as he suddenly yanked you up to rest against his chest, his hips thrusting up into your dripping heat at a rapid pace.
“cum on my dick, slut,” he growled, breath hot in your ear as he squeezed your neck ever so slightly causing you to release around him.
after rafe dumped himself inside you, he got you water and helped you get all cleaned up, cuddling into your side with a sigh as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“was i too rough?” he mumbled, the pad of his thumb running circles along your hip as you shook your head.
“do you feel better?” you whispered, leaning over to brush your lips against his as he smiled into the kiss.
“much better, you’re the best.”
“don’t forget it,” you hummed, finally letting sleep take over you as he kissed your temple.
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tasteleeknow · 4 months
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LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
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evie-sturns · 4 months
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𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 - 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤
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summary: chris shows up at your window after an argument, you tell him to go away, but hes reluctant.
contains: smut, rough sex, swearing, teasing, slight spanking ,orgasm denial, aftercare!
————----•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•----------——
its only been a day since me and chris's argument, but to be honest, i'm already missing him. a lot.
i lie in bed, wearing panties and one of chris's shirts which he left at my house previously. my house feels strangely empty, its uncomforting.
i look up from my dimly lit phone, at my clock, resting on the wall 11:45pm. i roll over in bed, placing my phone down and resting my puffy eyes.
my heart drops, loud clanging noises echo from outside my window. i sit up quickly, grabbing my phone. my heart thumps as i hear footsteps on the metal roof. "fuck fuck fuck.." i whisper to myself as i stand up out of bed.
the footsteps abruptly stop, and then i hear a few soft taps on my window. i suck a deep breath in before approaching my window, pulling open the curtains.
my eyes widen, chris is staring back at me. i let out a loud scream as he looks at me.
after a few seconds of collecting myself i angrily open the window "what the fuck are you doing here!" i whisper. "can we talk.. please?" chris says calmly. i shake my head before slamming my window down and yanking my curtains shut.
i throw myself back into bed, wrapping myself in the covers as i feel tears well in my eyes. just the sight of him makes me upset.
im expecting to hear his footsteps disappear, but instead i hear dead silence from outside my window, followed by a loud thump and the bushes rustling.
did chris just fall off my roof into the flower garden.
a small smirk plays at my lips, of course, chris sturniolo fell off my roof.
after a few minutes, i hear the metal clanging of my roof for the second time tonight. hes back.
his footsteps stop, then more taps on my window. i sigh before dragging myself out of bed, and yanking my curtains back open. this time hes holding a single flower, with a sorry look painted on his face.
i open my window "go away chris." i mumble "please let me in, im not going away." he sighs as he grips the daisy in his palm.
i stare at him for a few seconds before opening my window, i take a step back, allowing him inside my room.
he climbs inside, chris is covered in dirt and grass, his hair is stuck to his forehead as he stares at me. just now i realise what i'm wearing.
he sticks a hand straight out, offering me the flower. i try to hold back the smile which is tugging at my lips as i take it, placing it on my bedside table. chris's cheeks flush as he looks me up and down.
"wearin' my shirt while we're mad at each other hm?" he says playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "fuck off." i mumble.
"look, im so sorry about yesterday. if i'm being honest i was totally in the wrong." he says, fidgeting with his nails.
"i know." i bite back as i look up at him.
he tuts before shaking his head. "look, i didn't just come here to fuck, i want to genuinely apologise."
"who said we were gonna fuck?" i say, folding my arms. without another word he walks over to me, picking me up by my thighs before slamming me down on the matress.
"i did, cause those panties are turning me the fuck on." he growls as he yanks them down. i moan lightly as he reaches between my legs, "pathetic, wet all over your thighs hm?"
i groan as he pulls of my shirt, toying with my breasts "chris.. stop teasing" i whine impatiently.
"maybe if you didn't have such a fucking attitude, you'd already be taking my cock by now." he says as he rubs my clit lightly, i buck my hips up, desperate for pressure. "needy, aren't you." he sighs as he unbuckles his belt.
"turn around." he demands "go on, on your hands and knees."
my eyebrows furrow, but i comply anyways. he grabs my ankles, pulling me to the edge of the bed.
smack
his belt collides with my ass, "chris!" i yelp as he rubs where he just spanked me "you want pressure, you're getting fucking pressure." he groans.
smack
his belt lightly smacks my clit from behind, causing my eyes to water. i let out a soft whimper, before i can open my mouth again i hear his jeans drop the the floor. i arch my back even more on the bed, my chest pressing against the matress as i look over my shoulder.
"fuck!" i yell as he slams into me, giving me no chance to adjust to his size, he thrusts into me, hitting deeper and deeper each time. the room fills with my screams of pleasure and chris's grunts. i grip the pillows as my eyes pour tears from the intensity, without warning i clench around chris, orgasming.
he quickly pulls out, painting my back with white ribbons. i collapse onto my stomach as chris flops down next to me before rolling me onto him. my head buries in his neck as he holds my ass tightly, the tears slow as i catch my breath.
"im so sorry baby, are you okay? was i too rough?" he says frantically. hes met with no response, just a small groan. "hey hey, talk to me please." chris says rubbing my back. "just intense.." i whisper "really good though.." i continue.
we lie in silence for a few minutes before i break it.
"chris?"
"mhm?" he whispers
"did you fall off my roof earlier?" i ask
"possibly.."
————----•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•----------——
omg this was lowkey freaky for me but hope yall enjoyed!!
1K notes · View notes
ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months
Note
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A request for Miguel O’hara x reader with this photo (the famous spiderman kiss) 🙏please
𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Summary: The base is quiet, so you mess around with Miguel a bit :3
Warnings: None! Just silly little shenanigans, haha.
Some days at the Spider Society it was just quiet. No major missions happening, no drama, just pure utter boredom.
So what better way to relieve that boredom than going to harass Miguel?
You sneakily slip into the monitoring room, not making a single sound. The good thing about Miguel is that he didn’t have that spider sense that all the other spiders had (though you had to admit his senses were still far superior), so if you tried really hard, then you could slip by undetected.
Lyla seems to take note of you though, glancing in your direction but instead waiting to see how everything would play out.
Slowly you begin to scale the walls, climbing up to the ceiling with ease until you’re right overtop of Miguel where he stood watching his screens.
Shooting out a web, you let it stick to the ceiling before making your descent, dropping down like those spiders you spot right in front of your face as you lie in bed.
A devious look rests on your face as you became eye level with Miguel, though he couldn’t tell with your mask on.
Lyla only snorted as she watched, before throwing up a peace sign and disappearing.
“Hey, how’s it going?” you say with a giggle.
“Sweetheart…what are you doing,” he sighs, glancing away from the screens to look at you. He can’t help the smile on his face though.
“Oh, you know, just hanging around,” you snicker at yourself, “you know the deal.”
“Hanging around, huh?” he says, before slinging one of his own webs onto the ceiling much to your surprise. Now both of you were hanging upside down, eye level with each other.
“Not very comfortable, is it?” he asks.
“Eh, it's fun though,” you reply, and he only hums before wrapping the web around his ankles, releasing it from his wrists.
“What are you-” you begin, but he cuts you off as he slips the bottom part of your mask off, grasping both your cheeks with his hands as he presses his lips to yours.
“Oh,” you whisper, grinning goofily at him. “Missed me, hm~?” He only huffs out a little laugh.
“Shut up,” he says, pressing his lips to yours once more.
A/N: Just a lil something, short and sweet. Thank you for requesting!!
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex
7K notes · View notes
casualhedonists · 5 months
Text
✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter four)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
chapter: 4/?
SERIES MASTERLIST
words: 6.3k (🫠)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
a/n: thank you for your patience while i got my shit together (christmas edition). enjoy, this filth seems to get longer with each chapter. i’ll be gone for a few weeks over the holidays, so no chapter updates for a bit, but have no doubt i’ll be back for more in the new year <;33
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Coriolanus Snow was not a patient man. He’d played the long game enough times in his climb to the top of Panem to know that once he got up there, he wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines anymore, waiting for life to happen to him. He would take what he wanted from whoever he wanted, with no delay.
Who were you to tell him what he could and couldn’t have? Who were you to deny him, walking away like you’d won, like you’d just played him like a fiddle and left him out in the dust? He replayed your self-satisfied smile as you disappeared from his view and he stood there, considering his options. The most tempting would be to follow you back to your room, to shove you up against a wall, to tear off his jacket and watch that smug look melt right off your face.
The second would’ve been to send for the whore, but it would’ve been a cheap thrill and besides, you’d made a point of getting rid of her.
He’d almost had you, he could see it. Could see the quiver in your lip as your blown-out eyes had rolled open, before you’d climbed off his lap. He was certain that if he chipped away at enough of your resolve, you’d give in. The thought of having to work for this incensed him, who were you to make demands from the President himself?
But the calculating part of his brain decided, with disdain, that he would have to be patient for once. He doubted you could go very long before giving into him; he’d seen it in your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him that night.
You wanted to go on a power trip? Fine. Snow knew it would be short lived, and you were making enough of a spectacle of yourself that it should prove entertaining to him. He decided he was going to let you have your fun, brief and fleeting as it may be. He always did enjoy a chase, and he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
You wanted to play? Fine.
He closed his door, leaving it unlocked.
Let the games begin.
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Breakfast was a sweet kind of torture. You’d wrapped a short, silk dressing gown around your underwear set from the night before, confident after your first good night’s sleep in weeks. Headed downstairs early, so you could be there when he walked in.
“Morning, sweetie.” You smiled as you sipped at a cup of coffee.
Snow’s eyes narrowed. He sat opposite you without a word, pouring himself a cup and buttering a piece of toast. His morning paper was neatly folded on the side, and you eyed it quickly, before taking him in.
It was subtle – something probably only you could pick up on, knowing what you did – but it was there, in the slight crinkle of his usually perfect shirt, in the way he took coffee instead of tea, in the way he focused carefully on spreading the butter to every edge of his slice of toast. You glanced down again, a mischievous sense of pride filling you up.
You’d gotten under his skin.
Finally.
“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I don’t know about you, but I slept like a log. You?”
His eyes met yours heatedly, but he didn’t reply. One of his footmen stood posted by the door, eyes straight ahead.
“No?” You faked pity. “You look a little tired, Coriolanus. Rough night?”
Nothing. He didn’t respond to your taunts, but instead took his paper, unfolding it, and you watched intently with a glint in your eye as you saw him react to something slipping out of the pages and into his lap.
He let out a surprised scoff, lowered the paper, and looked straight at you. Your eyebrows raised in response.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, with a lilt in your voice.
When he finally spoke, his voice was steady.
“Leave us, please.” He said to the footman, without breaking off his stare once. The footman obliged, closing the door behind him. His eyes bored into you with a similar intensity as they had the night before.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He asked, but it was flat like a statement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You batted your eyes, feigning innocence.
He lifted his hand from his lap, holding up the pair of white lace panties you’d tucked between the folds of his newspaper. Raised his eyebrows in a question.
“Oh,” you smiled. “Whoops. I’d been wondering where I left those.”
His stare remained unfaltering, and you rubbed your legs together.
“Very cute, sweetheart.”
You smirked.
“You think so? Just something to remember me by. Lucille said you’ll be gone until tomorrow for work, I wouldn’t want you forgetting about last night.”
His eyes darkened, never leaving yours as you stood, making your way down the table.
“It’s a shame, really. I feel a little guilty about what I did. I got you all worked up for nothing.”
He scoffed, watching as you got closer.
“Yeah, you seem all torn up about it.”
You hummed, reaching him, and nodded at his lap, where his hand gripped the white lace.
“May I?”
“Be my guest.” He said tightly.
You straddled his lap again, and he looked up at you. You felt another surge of that power, standing over him with very little between you, as you ran your palms over his jacket, smoothing it out, then plucking the white rose from his breast pocket, and tucking your panties inside. As you pushed the rose back in, you smiled, satisfied.
“I should be more careful about misplacing things,” you mused, “Could’ve sworn I threw those in the laundry. You want to know something funny?”
“What?” Snow watched your hand pull away, and you met his gaze again.
“I’m not even sure I’m wearing a pair right now.”
It happened so quickly, it knocked the breath out of you. One second, you were balanced with your legs either side of his, and the next, you were pushed back onto the table as he stood, grabbing your waist, and leaning over you. A plate shattered on the floor, but Coriolanus didn’t flinch.
You squirmed but he gripped your hips harder, sliding one hand up to support your back and stop you from toppling straight onto the table. The cold wood pressed into your bare legs, and a glass dug into your back. You realised with a shaky breath that your dressing gown had fallen open. He was stood flush between your legs, pinning you down.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snapped.
“I told you, didn’t I?” A hum as his hips rolled into yours. “Whatever I want.”
“I could force your hand, you know.” He commented. “Right now.”
“You think I wouldn’t want you to?”
His face was unreadable. His head dipped towards yours, and when he spoke it brushed against your lips.  
“You really are a whore.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I know you’re all bark and no bite. You want to know why I know that, Snow?”
He huffed.
“Why?”
“Because I think you like chasing me.” Your eyes lowered to your legs, pressed apart by his hips. Your ankles wrapped around his lower back and pressed him in further. His jaw clenched.
He followed your gaze, and you felt his breath hitch when he saw that you weren’t lying, there was nothing between the two of you except his pants.  
“Fuck.” He whispered.
It did something to you, hearing him so desperate. You pulled him in again with your heels, and he looked back at you. He rocked his hips, velvet cloth rubbing against your bare cunt, and you gasped at the feeling, still sore from last night.
Any time now.
“You want to fuck me, Snow?” You whispered. “Do it. Right now, I won’t stop you.”
His breaths were heavy as he rocked his hips again, firm, and it was obscene, really, how you could feel the outline of his cock pushing against you through the thick material, and his breath was getting laboured.
Almost there.
“Knew you’d give in.” His voice was rough as he pressed in harder, and you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “So fucking desperate. Didn’t expect you to open your legs this soon, though. Thought you’d rile me up for a few days first. But look at you,” he rambled, “giving up so easily. Where’s all that fight now, sweetheart?”
A loud rap sounded at the door.
There it is.
You couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across your face as he stopped still.
“Oh,” you blinked innocently at him, “I wonder who that could be.”
“President Snow? We’re ready for you, sir.” The footman’s voice was muffled through the door.
“Well, would you look at the time? I guess duty calls, Mr President.”
He scowled, shooting ice cold daggers at you.
“You bitch. You knew.”
“And you fell for it.” You smirked, digging your heels into his back again. “Who’s desperate now?”
He scoffed, meeting your eye again.
“You think you’re so smart, little girl. You really think I’d mind if they walked in on me fucking you into the table?”
“I know you’re not against having an audience, Snow. But what are you gonna do, hang the health minister if he walks in? I know you’re not above it, but it’d be a slight inconvenience. Surely there are wiser ways to spend your precious time.”
“Yeah? Try me.”
His nails dug into your back as he pulled you in closer. For just a second, you had a doubt. But not long enough.
“I’m calling your bluff, Coriolanus Snow.”
He shook his head. Peeled himself off you with a huff, and tried to smooth out his shirt, glaring at you the whole time.
“I’ll be right out.” He called.
You slid off the table and stood, tying your gown, then reaching to fiddle with his collar. He batted your hand away.
“Let me.” You reached out again.
“Fine.”
Your hands smoothed over the material, straightening it out, then once you were satisfied, they rested on his chest for a beat.
“You look handsome.” You confessed quietly, not meeting his eye as you spoke. You could feel his stare burning into you as you did. When you finally looked, his expression had shifted to something unreadable again. Confusion, perhaps. It was times like these when you wished you could read his mind.
The moment finally passed and you cleared your throat, trailing a hand over his breast pocket, a physical reminder of the game you were intent on winning.
“This was fun.” You declared with a smile, putting the mask back on. “Hurry back. What time shall I expect you?”
“No later than noon.” He watched as you stepped away.
“I look forward to it,” you smiled, playing with the string of your gown, “sweetheart.”
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With Snow out of the house, you jumped at the chance to head straight upstairs, making a beeline for his room. Something inside you just knew the door would be unlocked, that he wouldn’t be able to resist. You were right.
At last, you were able to take a good look around the room, touring it as if it was some art museum. And it wasn’t far from it; with wood panelled walls and strong beams on the ceiling, plush velvet throw pillows and bedsheets, with crisp white linen tucked underneath. You wandered around for a while, brushing your fingers over the sides, taking it all in. It was perfectly neat, almost jarringly so. You wondered if he always kept it like this, or if it was for your benefit. Since he’d probably guessed you’d be going inside, you took little guilt in peeking into a few drawers, and flipping through the pages of the book on his nightstand.
Your curiosity then took you into the bathroom, where, after scanning the shelves, you decided to undress and take a shower, steam and the smell of his soap filling the large room. You took the opportunity to slide your hands between your legs and replay the morning’s events, filling in what you’d have had liked to have happen instead of him leaving. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel, and walked out, spotting a glass bottle of cologne on the edge of the sink. With a smile, you gently sprayed a little on your wrist, breathing it in, sighing deeply as the smell of him went to your head.
You got dressed again, thumbing through his closet, basking in the buzz you had from being in his space. You sat on his bed, taking his room in from a new perspective. When you were satisfied, you headed back to your own with a smile, only coming back that evening with a handful of your things, before falling into a peaceful sleep under his sheets.
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A few days passed after that morning, and you barely saw Snow. He’d come back, but gone straight to his office, where he proceeded to spend long hours on the phone, stuck on some important business you had no business nosing about.
So, you waited, your games paused and painfully anticlimactic. You hated feeling like a helpless housewife, but this was apparently what you’d been reduced to. You saw your friends some of the evenings, and your family on others. Then you’d come home to hover outside Snow’s locked study to listen to the sounds of pen on paper, peppered with the occasional sigh. You would have waited for him to come out, but you gave up as the hours drawing longer. He stayed holed up in his office, night after night, and by the time he’d finished the evening’s work, sleep had long carried you away.
It hadn’t all been dull; you’d fallen into a habit of sneaking pairs of your underwear in with the clean laundry that was carried up to his room, and that had earned you a little attention, but it was merely in passing. A few heated glances at the dinner table, a brush past each other in the hallway. You’d go so far as to say it was almost like flirting, only laced with the undertones of something far heavier. It wasn’t enough for you now that you’d tasted what you could have if only you reached for it, and you started to go a little stir crazy again.
One of these nights, you’d slipped into his empty room after dark, and lay in his bed, trying to stay awake as long as you could, but sleep caught up to you and by morning, you woke alone, wrapped in soft sheets, no sign of Snow except for a slightly warm dent on his side of the bed that had long been abandoned.
You got nothing. Not a touch, not an argument, not a kiss. For a week and a half, until he was called away again. Your annoyance had started to creep back up on you tenfold by then, and you were practically crawling out of your skin.
You saw your family for dinner more and more, making a habit out of filling the empty space he'd left with small talk and laughter. It was on one such night, when you'd been silently mulling over what move to make next, that your mother mentioned a name you hadn't heard in years, and you knew right away what to do. You were done hiding away, you wanted to make yourself known. Make every second Snow spent in your presence a living hell, and a reminder of what you’d denied him. You'd hoped for something outrageous, something that would push him to the very edge. And if this didn't work, nothing would.
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Nathaniel Greene was an old flame of yours. He’d always been good to you, warm and well-meaning; and he was handsome, in a gentle, boyish way. When your mother mentioned him, a beautifully cruel idea struck you. You weren’t naturally as cold-hearted as Coriolanus, but as the weeks had gone by, you’d begun to believe that maybe, in order to win this, you needed to be. Nathaniel would be perfect; the two of you had been school friends, you had history, something Snow couldn’t compete with, and you knew that would drive him insane. He was all soft edges, smiles, and pleasantries, everything that Snow wasn’t.
You felt a sliver of guilt as you began putting your plan together, but you reasoned that you and Snow had bruised each other, and low blows were what it would take for you to press into his the hardest. This was always never going to be simple; it was a messy game, and you needed to get your hands dirty.
Besides, he’d paraded a whore around the house for you to watch him fucking for weeks on end. It was fair game, you reminded yourself. So with that decided, you rose to the occasion, and the plan was set into motion.
That was how it came to be that on the day Snow returned, he walked in to find a guest sat in his living room. You were all false smiles and batted eyelashes when you saw him.
“Coriolanus, you’re back. I’d like you to meet Nathaniel, he and I used to be friends at school.”
Nathaniel rose from his seat on the sofa, and leaned toward Snow to shake his hand.
“Mr President, sir, it’s an absolute honor to be in your company. You have a lovely house.”
Nathaniel missed the slight tick in Snow’s jaw, but you didn’t. He offered his hand in response.
“The pleasure’s mine. Any… friend of my girl is always welcome here.”
My girl. The words went straight to your head, and Coriolanus pulled you in for a kiss that lingered half a second longer than usual, like he knew.
“Would you like some tea, sweetheart?” You asked, “Nathaniel and I were just catching up.”
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“I remember that summer.” You laughed. “Your aunt took us to the coast, and we swam in the ocean at least twice a day. It was so cold one morning, your cousin’s lips turned blue. And on the way home, we had to stop at that inn, do you remember it?”
“With the owner and his crazy beard.”
“The crazy beard owner!” you exclaimed. “And the room you and I stayed in was so laughably small, the bed touched three of the walls all at once. Cozy, though.”
Nathaniel glanced awkwardly between the two of you, clearing his throat.
“Yeah, those were, uh… good times.”
Fire ran rampant through Snow’s eyes. You didn’t look directly at him, but your peripherals gave you plenty of satisfaction.
He was enraged. Good. You’d been mercilessly torturing him for the better part of an hour.
“Oh, Nathaniel, that reminds me, I’ll go get the book I was telling you about earlier.”
“Book?” He frowned, “I don’t-”
“You know the one! I’ll be right back.” You interrupted, then practically bounced out of your seat and walked toward the library. At the far end of the large room, you paused, pretending earnestly to scan the spines for a particular title.
You were quiet, making sure you could hear the echo of Snow excusing himself, followed by steady footsteps approaching you from behind.
“Something wrong?” You asked, keeping your back turned.
He grabbed your waist and spun you around. Backed you up until you were pressed to the wall, wooden shelves digging into your spine.
“Give me one good reason,” he spat, “why I shouldn’t kill that boy right now.”
You blinked.
“What’s wrong, Snow? Can’t take a little jealousy? Surprising, given your recent choice of company.”
“So that’s it? All this to get a rise out of me? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” he scoffed.
You smiled, meeting his eye.
“Oh, but maybe I should. See, Coriolanus, here’s the thing.” you leaned towards him, running a finger down the front of his dress shirt, catching over each shining button as it glided down. “I haven’t decided if I should fuck him, yet. What do you think I should do?”
“I think,” he snarled, grabbing your wrists and pressing them against the wooden shelves, then dropping his voice down to a whisper, his breath mixing with yours, “that I should fuck you right here while he listens in the next room, and show him who you really belong to.”
You faltered, if only for a few moments. Your pride wavering as you heard the want drip from his voice, still getting used to his eyes skating across your skin the way you’d hoped and prayed they would for months. If you wanted it, you could take it right now, and you almost folded. He moved in ever closer, and your head dropped against the bookshelf, letting his lips graze your neck, blonde curls dusting your shoulder. You stayed there, suspended, letting it roll over you like water.
“What would your little friend in there think, if he could hear how much of a whore you really are? I wouldn’t even let you cover your mouth. I’d just hike up your slutty little dress and send you back out there with cum dripping down your thighs. How do you think he’d like you then?”
Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes closed, pressing your legs together. Tried to rationalise the logic of throwing your plans to the wind and letting him stake his claim on you.
You considered it. Briefly.
But you were already in so deep, you had to see this through. Snow had fucked with you, then left you out to dry, and you had to make sure he would never do it again. So no, you wouldn’t be the one to fold. He would, on your terms. And now wasn’t the time, not yet.
So you collected yourself. Pulled away, batting your pretty eyes at him.
“Oh, but I’m having so much fun.”
“Don’t test me. You’ve proved your point.” he seethed, stepping closer, and one more inch and you might burst-
“Nathaniel’s waiting. I’ll see you at dinner, Coriolanus.”
With that, you slipped away, silently catching your breath.
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You’d just finished dinner alone, no Snow in sight, and you were walking back towards the hallway when the doors swung open.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your hands were above your head as Snow pushed you into the dining room wall. This was starting to become a habit. A sly smile pulled at your lips.
“Stings, doesn’t it? Getting a taste of your own medicine.”
He got in close, rage burning hot in his eyes.
“What you did was different, and you know that."
"I don't know, Coriolanus, was it? I've just been so bored, lately. Idle hands, I suppose."
If looks could kill, you'd be a goner.
"That's your excuse? At least I had the decency to fuck a stranger. Tell me you didn’t-”
You laughed.
“You really think I’d do anything without making sure you watched? God, Snow, you don’t know me at all.”
He moved in closer.
“If you ever do that again, if you so much as look his way, I’ll have him whipped in the middle of the city. Or maybe I won’t bother. I’ll just have him hung, and I’ll make sure you’re there at the front of the crowd to watch him drop, knowing his blood is on your hands. Do you understand me?”
You set your jaw. Shrugged.
“Okay.”
He frowned. You took pride in the way you could see it, him trying desperately to figure you out.
“Okay?” He repeated.
“You heard me. You think I really care enough about him, that I’d invite him into the house just to make you jealous, then expect him to end up alive? How stupid do you think I am?”
You did care about Nathaniel, at least enough to not want him dead, but Snow couldn’t know that. Not for this to work.
“You’re bluffing.” But you could hear in his voice that he wasn’t sure.
“Am I? Your threats don’t phase me, Coriolanus. Do your worst, I don’t care anymore. What, did you think I’d try to talk you out of it? You think I’d beg?”
His bewilderment caused him to drop your wrists, and you took the chance to push yourself away from the wall.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I won’t fold. I meant what I said that night. You want me to be yours, you want to own me? You have to earn it. My way. You’re not going to get anywhere trying to scare me into submission. It won’t work.”
Disbelief flashed across his face. You stood your ground, raising your head up high, leaning in.
“I don’t want to fight you, Coriolanus.” You confessed. “Your room. An hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”
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Say what you wanted about Coriolanus Snow, but when you asked him to be on time, he obliged. You didn’t even need to hear his footsteps to know he’d come, which you’d grown finely attuned to by now, enough to hear them leave his office two rooms away and walk the short distance to his room, swinging open the door you’d left decidedly ajar.
And you made sure what he walked in on was a sight to behold; you, sprawled out on his bed in nothing but a white shirt of his, unbuttoned all the way down, falling to your sides. Your head pressed into his silk pillowcases, legs parted lazily as your hand rubbed slow circles on your clit beneath the red lace of your underwear. You could tell from the look on Snow’s face when you rolled your head to the side and looked at him that you’d had the desired effect, that you’d orchestrated this perfectly, because he couldn’t take his eyes off your hand, hips rocking into it, the visual made all the more lewd by the scrap of fabric hiding your movements, leaving his brain to fill in the blanks.
You slowed.
“Glad you could make it.” A small smile formed on your lips.
“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
“I have. Your bed’s a lot softer than mine.”
He hummed, crossing his arms.
“Why did you ask me here, sweetheart? This is my room, after all.”
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and even that small motion wasn’t lost on him. Your hand stilled.
“I waited for you.” You said quietly.
He let out a sigh, ragged and tired.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you knew how badly I wanted to see you-”
“Don’t. I don’t want your apology.”
His expression gave way to confusion for a split second.
“Okay. What is it you want?”
You paused, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth. Then you swallowed, your voice an embrassing whisper.
“I want your mouth on me.” It almost hurt to hold his stare, but you did.
“That so?” was the response. You cleared your throat.
“You say you’re sorry, Snow? Prove it. I’m right here.”
He paused, like he was mulling you over. Like he was figuring out just how to play his cards. Then a small smile pulled at his lips.
“Take your hand away.” His voice was rough, and it gave him away.
You obliged, watching him step towards the bed, towards you. He rolled up his sleeves, eyes on yours and your stomach twisted.
There he is.
“If you’re going to be making demands, it’s only polite that you ask nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”
You nodded, flushing under his stare.
“You want me to take these off?” He smoothed his hands up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the band of your panties. You'd missed feeling his hands on your skin.
You nodded again, and he tutted.
“Yes.” You corrected. “Please.”
“Good. It was about time you learned some manners.” He slowly slid them off, and you lifted your hips to help him. His gaze slid between your legs, and you shifted your knee so you were covered.
“Not getting shy now, are you? Open your legs for me.” He instructed, and you obliged, burning under the heat of his gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off before moving in towards you, kneeling on the ottoman. You were already soaked, and you could feel the heat building even more, just from having him near you, having him see what a dripping mess you were.
“Shit.” It was no louder than a whisper, but your perked ears caught it and you pressed your lips together.
He tentatively pushed his thumb through your folds and you whined, a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at. Did it again, and it caught on your clit, your breath hitching in your throat.
“Please.”
“Good girl. You know how many times I’ve thought about this over the past week? I’ve lost sleep over it.”
“Coriolanus.”
He smoothed his hands over your thighs again, and you yelped as he suddenly pulled you forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He kept staring, and you couldn’t take it, blood rushing from your head, so you dropped it back onto the pillows.
“Look at me.” He squeezed your thigh.
You did. You felt a sliver of pride as you noted the slight flush in his cheeks, like maybe he was more worked up than he was letting on.
“You know how many times I came all over those pretty panties of yours, wishing you were wearing them? Think I lost count.”
You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you as his breath brushed over your folds, wound so tight you thought you would burst.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Say it again.”
“I want your mouth on me. Please, put your mouth on me.”
You didn’t need to tell him twice, because with a sharp inhale, he pressed his mouth onto your cunt and dragged his tongue over your clit, slowly, firm and deliberate, like he had an itemised list of exactly how to cause your undoing. You gasped at the sudden contact, and your hips bucked off the bed, before his fingers gripped into your hips the way they had the other night, and slammed you back down.
“So fucking needy. Were you really that worked up? Parading your little boy toy around will do that, huh?”
“I’m sorry.” You gasped, as he worked his tongue over your clit again, tracing slow, firm circles that made your legs weak. You grabbed a handful of his hair, blonde locks twisted between your fingers as he pulled away again. You whined.
“See, that’s the thing. I don’t think you are. But you will be.”
You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, because his tongue was all over you again, lapping at your entrance, lips sucking loudly at your clit as you moaned, free hand twisting creases into his bedsheets.
“Fuck.” You keened as your hips bucked harder, searching for friction that was so close to being enough. Your heels pressed into his back and your hand tightened in his hair, to which he retaliated by digging his nails into your thighs, scraping against the almost-healed bruises that were left from the previous week. The pinch brought you further into that headspace, where you could feel yourself slipping away, crying out as you thrashed under the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.
You kept rocking your hips, hopelessly trying to grind against him, but his hands held you down firmly, keeping the pace torturously slow. You couldn’t help your spaced-out brain from slipping back to weeks ago, when you’d watched him do the same to his whore on this very bed, and you made a sound of protest that just melted in with the rest of your noises, going unnoticed.
You didn’t want to feel this way, to feel disposable, like he could just have his way with you and throw you out. You knew that if you didn’t do something, you’d lose yourself altogether. And you couldn’t bear that thought, of having to give in. Not like this. Not when he held all the cards again.
“I want to sit on your face.” You breathed without thinking, strung out and desperate. Coriolanus pulled back. A smirk on his lips, which were swollen red and covered in your slick. You whimpered as the soft light caught him, showing you the mess you’d made of his face, dripping down his chin.
“Do you now?”
“Please. I’ll ask nicely, I’ll – I’ll beg, if you want me to. Just please, let me sit on your face. I can’t take it anymore, I’m so-” You broke off, gasping as he pressed a soft kiss onto your clit, causing your legs to jolt.
“Poor thing. You really want it, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please, I’ll do anything. Just… please.”
“Good girl.” He murmured, trailing soft kisses down your thigh. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll let you. Just for a few minutes, okay? Think you can cum that fast?”
“Fuck, yes. Thank you.”
A messy tangle of limbs as he pulled his shirt off, sliding flat onto the bed, hands guiding your shaking legs as you inched over his torso. It was nearly too much, watching his pretty face as you lowered yourself onto him, but you couldn’t look away, hands grabbing the headboard to steady yourself. You couldn’t help but think back to that night, riding his thigh like you were being paid for it. As he carefully eased your hips down, thighs either side of his face, you knew this was going to be a hundred times better than that. And Snow didn’t disappoint, lifting his head to nuzzle your clit as you sucked in a breath, hips jolting forward. You dropped a hand to grab onto his hair, and he didn’t retaliate this time, letting you wind your fingers around his curls as you started to move slowly, rocking your hips against his mouth.
This was much better. The angle was perfect, pressure everywhere you needed it, and you tipped your head back as you moved, one languid lick causing it to drop forward again to look at Snow.
The only time he really moved was to pull you in firmer, and the motion reminded you of how he’d pulled you into his thigh, and before you knew it the ache in your stomach was growing into a throb, burning you up until it felt molten, until you felt drunk from it. The coil tightened further as you got into it, rolling your hips, tugging Snow’s hair to the point where you were sure it must’ve been hurting him, but he either didn’t care or just didn’t stop you. As your hips bucked faster and you looked down at his face, eyes hazy as he ate you out like he was starved, you couldn’t help it, you just started talking, rambling near nonsense and it wouldn’t stop.
“Fuck, that’s it, right there. You’re gonna make me cum all over your face if you keep that up. Holy shit.” Your grip in his hair tightened, so hard it was pulling his head back so you could grind against him just right, clit catching on his nose, cunt spasming against his tongue, and he winced, a broken sound escaping the back of his throat, but it only egged you on. Your voice breathy but taunting, getting cockier by the second.
“Does that hurt, baby? Am I pulling too hard?” His eyes narrowed, but his tongue only fucked into you harder. “You can take it though, can’t you? Fuck. You’re being so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this. Feels so fucking good. Shit, I thought you’d take more convincing, but look at you, eating from the palm of my hand.”
His hands gripped into your hips again, nails digging crescent moons into your skin, and you tightened your thighs around his head which only made him dig harder, the pain tipping you over the edge as you shouted out, hips jerking as your thighs shook, and Snow only pressed in firmer with his tongue as you came, riding out your high with a strangled sob.
He didn’t give you chance to come down from your orgasm, instead pushing you off his face and flipping you over. You landed on your back, scared for a second that you’d be punished for getting carried away, but his lips met yours in a sudden battle for dominance. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue. He’d never kissed you like this before. It lit another fire in your stomach, just when you thought you were done.
After what felt like a lifetime getting drunk off each other, he pulled away, and you got to see the mess you’d made of this man. There he was, propped above you, the most powerful man in the country, blonde hair a sweaty wreck of tangles, parted lips sore and swollen, your cum smeared across his mouth and chin, mixed with the trail of your wet tongue in the places you’d just cleaned him up.
You tasted it on your lips, heard it in his laboured breath, saw it in his blown-out eyes, felt it in the small space between you.
This was what power felt like.
He was shaking his head incredulously, like he couldn’t quite believe you. Then, ignoring your hiss, his head dipped between your legs again, smooth tongue rolling over you like cool water on a burn. You flinched, a broken sound slipping from your lips.
“Oh, come on. You can give me one more, right?”
Fuck.
“Coriolanus, I can’t-” You whined as his hot breath lit you up, long fingers sliding inside you.
“You will. Come on, baby. You can take my fingers, can’t you?” His voice mimicked yours as he opened you up, speeding up a little. You hummed as he pressed against your sweet spot, and you hated how it seemed like it was so easy to him, to take you apart like this.
“Good girl. Look at me.” He scolded, when your eyes rolled back, squirming from the overstimulation, pressing his thumb against your clit just to watch you jolt.
“You’re going to do something for me. You’re going to promise me you won’t ever see him again.”
“What? Who, Nathaniel? I-”
He pressed into your clit again, mean, and you squeaked.
“Don’t say his fucking name. Promise me, right now. Say it.”
“I promise. Never again. I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.
“Good girl.” He smiled.
“Don’t want anyone else, just you, please. Please, Coriolanus. Will you promise me too?” Your words were airy, and your voice shook.
He slowed his fingers, and shifted himself up to place his lips on yours.
“I promise, sweetheart. It’ll just be us.” His fingers pressed into you harder, scissoring lazily, but every movement lit all your nerve endings on fire. You were so wet it was almost humiliating, or it would be if you weren’t so turned on, obscene sounds bouncing off the walls as he worked you open. Coriolanus could tell, smiling as he whispered praises, sweet nothings into your ear and added a third finger, thumb brushing across your clit as the sensitivity quickly morphed into more pleasure.
“You close again, baby?”
You only whimpered in response, head jerking as your eyes squeezed close, arm sliding down to grab his wrist, pushing it further. You were wrecked, and he knew it. It was his doing.
“Ah.” He knocked your hand away with a knowing smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’m listening.”
You paused, at a mental crossroads, but as he twisted his fingers just right, pressing deeper, you dropped all your inhibitions. Squeezed your eyes closed, cunt gripping his fingers, and confessed.
“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered.
You knew full well what it meant. You didn’t care anymore; you’d had your fun, and you were ready to fold. Lay all your cards out on the table. This ache inside you had never felt so loud. You refused to open your eyes, which were threatening to fill with desperate tears.
“Ask nicely.” He pulled his fingers back, dragging them along your sweet spot. You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.
“Please. Please, fuck me. I’m done, now, I promise. I won’t do it again, Coriolanus, I’m so sorry-”
“Say it again. One more time. Look at me.”
You sighed, eyes flooding with hot tears. You finally opened them.  
“Please, Coriolanus. Fuck me.”
He smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it morphed into something sinister.
“No.”
His hand stopped, fingers slipping out of you before you could stop them. Your high started to slip away. You rocked your hips, confused out of your mind. Driven to your edge, and then in the same breath, catapulting to a stop.
“I- wait, no… what?” You sounded delirious.
He shrugged, casually lifting his fingers, sucking them off with a pop.
“I don’t think I will. You’ve done quite enough, and I’ve had a long day. So I think you should be on your way now.”
You gaped, dumbfounded. The tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you held them in like they were your last shred of pride.
“But… you said we wouldn’t… I thought-”
He traced a hand across your check, gently, and it took everything in you not to sob.
“I meant what I said. But I’m not quite ready to forgive and forget. You should go and get some sleep.”
“Coriolanus, I- please.” You begged him, eyes wild and desperate.
“Stings, doesn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows and something inside you sank like a heavy cruiser. “A taste of your own medicine.”
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a/n: sorry mom
taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88
(more tags in the reblog/comments)
if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌
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mangoposts · 5 months
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Save a horse
M.S 🔞 Yeehaw
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Matt’s in awe, with his jaw slack and his eyes trained on her figure bouncing slightly on his dick. The way her tits moved each time her pussy met his pelvis as she sunk down mesmerized him as if he were watching an adult film. He reaches to grab her tits, pinching the soft skin of her nipples and tweaking with them as she moans, leaning back and steadying herself by reaching behind and gripping his thighs as leverage. She sinks down on him fully, grinding her hips in circles and Matt believes if his jaw drops any further than it is now it might fall off. Her pussy was squeezing his cock, the tip of his dick hitting her cervix each time she rolled her hips against his and she moans louder as her clit rubs against him. He’s hissing at how harshly her nails are digging into the skin of his thighs, noticing how concentrated she is on riding him. His hand rub at her sides lovingly, before gripping her hips tightly and thrusting his hips upward repeatedly, making her gasp at his sudden rutting inside of her pussy. She leans forward this time, her hands finding his chest below her and meeting his thrusts halfway by sinking down each time he thrusted upward, making the penetration all the more deep and quick as she whines and scratches down his chest.
“Feel good baby?” He says in between thrusts, licking at his lower lip while he watches his cock disappear inside of her cunt repeatedly. The sight making his dick twitch and his orgasm bubble through his abdomen. She nods, rubbing her needy hands all over his upper body before settling on the skin beneath his collarbones and pressing hard to sturdy herself before she sinks down onto him harder, her eyes rolling behind her head and lip getting caught in her teeth as she finds the perfect rhythm and executes it perfectly each time his dick bottoms out. Feeling every vein and every twitch of his sensitive cock inside of her.
“Yes-“ She chokes, “God, Yes. Feels so good.” His grip on her hips hasn’t let up, only opting for reaching his left hand to grip her ass as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking harshly while looking into her eyes. She stares down at him, her mouth agape and eyes heavy as the sight fuels her orgasm, feeling it creep up inside her body. Her hands find his hair, threading her fingers through it delicately as to not hurt him despite the actions they’re partaking in. Her eyes never leave his as the coil within her stomach grows, his cock is twitching from the squeeze of her velvety walls clenching around him constantly. Matt wraps his hand around her back while the other reaches down to rub at her clit, watching as her mouth falls open further and constant desperate moans slip out and echo through his ears, going straight to his cock as his own orgasm approaches.
“Y/n,” “Matt,” They say in sync, both warning one another of their orgasms but they’re both cut off as it rips through them all at once, both of their bodies tensing and freezing for a moment as it washes over them while riding out their high. Her hips stopping and opting for swirling around his cock as he comes down from his orgasm. He stills her, gripping her hips and breathing out heavily. He grabs the base of his cock and holds her waist as she lifts off of him. Flopping down beside him on the bed face down as she breathes out into the sheets below her. Matt chuckles, reaching a hand around and petting her hair softly when he notices her legs shaking.
“Don’t fall asleep kid, we have to get you cleaned up.” He mumbles, grinning when her muffled whine emits through his bedroom. She lifts her head up and he offers her a pout when he takes in the drowsiness in her eyes, he grabs her chin softly and places a tender kiss to her soft lips. Humming against them in satisfaction when her hands find his hair again, scratching her nails against his scalp. The kiss never breaks, and they never get cleaned up since Matt turns her over and climbs on top of her before spreading her legs for the second time that night.
Well, the kiss does break and it’s when Matt says,
“I’m still hard.”
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skzdarlings · 1 year
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02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 2/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.
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pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.
inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.
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There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder.  Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing. 
The noise is not why you are still awake.   Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt. 
You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived.  You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone.  Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.
The argument you started. 
All weekend, you’ve been testing Minho’s seemingly infallible patience.  Minho might joke around sharply, but he’s a secret softy and it’s hard to get him genuinely angry.  You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control.  You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him.  He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.
Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.      
You didn’t cry.  You didn’t let yourself cry.  Maybe you can’t control anything else, but you can control that. 
Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain.  You can’t sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho.   The rain is coming down pretty hard.  You hope he gets back soon.   Much as you don’t want to face him, you are worried about him. 
As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside.  He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour.  You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out.   The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following.  It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched. 
He turns abruptly, looking right at you.  There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back.   An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you.   I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think.  The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall.  Your heart pounds.   That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides.  You don’t dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.
He turns off the lights.  Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent. 
You exhale.  It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns.  You hear him moving about in the dark.  You lay straight as a board, your back to him. 
You stare through the dark at nothing.  You know you should apologize for earlier but you can’t bring yourself to speak.   You just breathe. 
Minho climbs into the bed.  It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company.  He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt.  He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down.  It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe. 
The rain has slowed.  It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently.  
The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense.  It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating.   You swallow. 
The argument was your fault.  Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault.  You’ve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure.  You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry.  No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask.  Hug me, hold me, help me.   You don’t know how to ask for the things you want.   So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him.  
It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but it’s Minho who rolls over.  You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind.   He doesn’t quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second.  Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face.  You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs. 
“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I shouldn’t have said that shit.  I don’t even know why we were fighting.  Just call it my fault, okay?  I shouldn’t have taken a city girl camping.”   
He is trying to joke with you.  His friendliness is what gets you.  Even after everything, he is still so good to you.   
You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying.  It’s a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it.  Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you. 
“Hey, hey,” he says, rolling you onto your back.  He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion.  “I was just kidding.  I’m sorry.  Take a free slap.”  He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it. 
It does make you laugh, but it’s a watery sound, rippling through your tears. 
“Minho,” you say miserably, “I lost my job.” 
Understanding fills his expression.  You can’t bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest.   He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt.   You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing.   You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic.  
“That’s why I went out alone the other night,” you say.  Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now.  “I know it was stupid and it made you mad.  I just felt like I was gonna explode.” 
Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you.   That’s why you did it.  Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone.   His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.
He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesn’t stop rubbing your back. 
“I wasn’t mad,” he says after a minute.  “I was just worried.  And…”
You peek up at him.  He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard. 
“I was jealous,” he says bitterly. 
“Jealous,” you say.  “Of me?”  
“Yes.”  He gives you a very sarcastic look.   “I wished it was me in that little black dress going out and—no.  Obviously not of you.  Why do you always torture me like this?   Go cry on the floor.”  He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him. 
You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder.  Your head feels fuzzy and you don’t think it’s from crying.  Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy.   It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks. 
“There was nothing to be jealous of anyway,” you say softly.  “We didn’t do anything.  He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldn’t make me, well…”
“Keep stammering.  It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.”   
“Minho.”  You slap his chest.  His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission.   You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth.  “He wound up leaving before it could go farther,” you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze.  You know it’s a petty blow, but you can’t help but admit, “He said I was too uptight and left.”
Minho’s whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut.   
“No,” he says.  “No.   You’re just saying that to bully me.  I didn’t call you the same thing as that idiot.”   
“It’s okay,” you say. 
“No.” He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet.  “Ahhhhhhh.  I should be shot!”  
You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.          
“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“Oh really?”  He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line. 
“Well.”  You burst into laughter all over again.  “Maybe just a little!” 
He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you.  Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin. 
“Minhoooo,” you whine to no avail.  He just grins and continues his attack. 
Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed.  You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too.  Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you.   You are both out of breath, both smiling.  His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push. 
The room feels quiet, the silence again tense.  But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before.   It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.     
You do not push him away.  You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull.  His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head.  He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed.  Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them.  He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you. 
The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue.  He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard. 
“Wow,” you say softly.  You look at him.  His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isn’t a joke.   You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers.   “Just so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.”
He grins at that. 
“Oh,” he says.  “Really?” 
“Yeah.”  You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm.  He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist.  You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much.  “Everything you do turns me on, though,” you say.  “Even earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knife—”
His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows. 
“Garlic?” he asks.  “The garlic got you hot?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” you say, pouting.  “You already made me cry once tonight…”
“Oh, is that what happened?” he says.  “Sure, okay, let’s play.  I made you cry.   I should make it up to you?”
“Mhm…”
“Well then.”  He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips.   Then he abruptly pulls away.  He kneels upright and sits back on his heels.   
Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows.   He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.
“What is it?” you ask.   
“Hmm?”  He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one.  “What?  I’m just looking for some garlic, since you’re into that for some reason.  Give me a minute to remember where I put it.”  
“Ahhh, I hate you!”  You flop back down, covering your face with your hands. 
Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs.  He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on.  He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up.  
You hear the rustle of fabric.  Curious, you peek between your fingers.  Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips.  That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling.  Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off.   It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten. 
“Okay,” he says, nodding curtly.  “Your turn.”  He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers.  “Come on.  Hurry up.” 
Your brain has short-circuited.  It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it.  You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him.   You are checking each other out, looking up and down.   Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open. 
You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there. 
You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.
“What else then?” he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you. 
“Uh, ah, erm, hm—”
“You said everything I do turns you on.”  He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp.   Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours.  His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you.  “So,” he says.  “What else then?” 
“Oh.”  You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you.  “Um.  Well.  Sometimes when you’re driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kinda—” 
Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he can’t help but laugh.  He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.    
“Stop asking if you’re just gonna laugh!” you say, even while laughing too. 
“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic and driving in reverse.  I’m learning so much.” 
“I’m gonna kill you.” 
“That would be very rude,” he says.  “Especially since I’m about to go down on you.” 
“You—wha—ohhh—”
You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest.  You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho.  By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately.   
You don’t even have time to overthink.  The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being.  
You will figure things out.  You always do.  Right now, you let yourself lose control.   You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you don’t mind at all, because Minho has you.   You trust him completely.  Surrender is easy.   
The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor.  He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder.   He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs.  When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place. 
When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre.  Again, your fingers find his hair.  He doesn’t complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously.  Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task.  It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin.  
When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back.  He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge.  Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite. 
He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand.   
“On a scale of garlic to driving in reverse—” he starts. 
You playfully cuff the side of his head. 
“That good?” he continues to tease. 
You roll your eyes but smile.   You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked.   Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down and—
“Oh,” you say.  You look down at the same time as him.  A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants.  “You already—”
He flops down beside you and sighs.
“Sorry,” he says.  “You weren’t the only one amazed with my sexy performance.” 
“That’s okay,” you say with a laugh.  You roll over to rest your head on his chest.  His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back.  You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass.  You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came.  “I think it’s kinda hot, actually.” 
Minho came from eating you out.  Of course you think it’s hot. 
And of course he has to be Minho about it. 
“Okay,” he says.  “Garlic. Driving in reverse.  Premature ejaculation.  Uptight was definitely the wrong word.  I honestly don’t know if I can keep up with a freak like you—”
“Ugh!”  You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke. 
He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind.  This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times.  All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it. 
“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you whisper. 
“I like you too,” he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again. 
You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms. 
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writing-for-marvel · 7 months
Text
Day 1: Mile High Club
Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
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Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.
Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.
“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.
“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.
A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.
“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.
A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.
“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.
Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.
“To be left alone with my wife.”
The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.
He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.
“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.
You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.
“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.
It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.
“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.
“What are we still doing here then?”
Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.
You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.
“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.
“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.
“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.
“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.
Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.
“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”
Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.
You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.
You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.
It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.
You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.
Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.
“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.
You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.
“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.
The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.
“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.
“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”
Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.
You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.
You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.
His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.
“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”
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yawnderu · 5 months
Text
You Fight Your Demons, I Ride Mine | Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader
Drip.
Your eyes focus on the corner of your room, staring at the tall figure that visits you in your restless dreams, haunting you ever since your friends were stupid enough to suggest playing with a Ouija board.
Drip.
Your gaze goes to the bathroom door, listening intently to the water dripping from the faucet every few seconds. When your eyes return to the corner, the man was closer. He always does this— getting closer every single time you're not staring right at him, always stopping at the foot of your bed before disappearing into nothing, the only evidence left behind of his presence being your fast-beating heart.
Your eyes stay on him, trying your best to put on a brave face despite knowing he can taste your weakness. You're not able to look at any details about him, only his silhouette, yet you now realize he doesn't move at all— lacking the regular up and down movement of someone's shoulders when they breathe.
Drip.
He's getting closer even when your eyes are focused on him, not a single footstep heard, the dripping faucet and your heavy breathing the only things making a single sound in the room. He stops at the foot of your bed and you let out a sharp breath thinking it's over. He has never stepped any closer.
Until now. His knee raises as his hands come down to your mattress, slowly but surely climbing your bed, the coldness of the room becoming more evident the closer he gets. It's the first time you see it— the skull balaclava covering his face, dead brown eyes staring right into your soul. You close your eyes tightly and raise the blanket over your head, hoping it's just a bad dream like the ones you've been having, hoping for him to disappear like he always does, yet you can feel the weight of his body as he cages you in, fully on top of you. Despite not being religious, you take as many chances as you can.
''Our father, who art in heaven—'' A dark, deep chuckle rings into your ears, spreading the vibration of his chest all over your much smaller body.
''Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'' He finishes the prayer for you, mocking clear in his tone, completely unaffected by what was supposed to drive him away. God doesn't scare him— he never did. Gloved hands trace your waist up and down, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he feels your body tensing up underneath him.
''What, are you scared?'' He taunts, British accent growing thicker the more excited he gets, finally getting his hands on what was promised to him many years ago. His hands travel across your chest, up until he can grasp at the top of the blanket, roughly pulling it all the way down despite your loud protest. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open them in fear of what you'll see. He moves out of the way; the blanket being thrown to the floor as he stared down at you.
''Go away.'' You manage to plead weakly, face scrunching up sourly when you feel a gloved hand cup your cheek, patting it condescendingly.
''I'll be back.'' He gets up from your bed slowly, black clothes not even making a sound as he walks backwards, going back to the same corner he's always at. You dare to open your eyes, barely managing to see the dark figure turn into nothing as he's about to hit the wall.
A/N: Should I make a series out of this? It was pretty fun to write.
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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months
Note
oh no if an angel tried to decapitate Husk daughter who was hiding and Husk see's this and for a moment turned back into his overlord form temporarily and it made the chains Alastor have on him Crack a little. Imagine if Alastor noticed this too
Haha! That’s actually precious in the most tragic way possible! I actually already picture Husk pulling a Charlie and just changing form in that moment to commit Angel murder!
Husk- Daddy’s Little Girl
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The Battle for Hell is getting more and more messy throughout every second. Charlie’s getting apprehended by Adam, Alastor had been beaten in ages ago, Vaggie is struggling a bit with Lute, the Hotel crew are already getting surrounded by so many exterminators.
Husk is among the group of the fighting Sinners and whilst he is expertly fending off Angels to protect himself and his new friends, his mind is littered with how you, his seven year old daughter, are doing. If you’re still okay
He had hid you away in the Hotel before the invasion hit, in the deepest parts where both himself and Charlie suspected the Angels wouldn’t be able to find but sadly… both were wrong. Maybe thirty minutes into the intense battle, Husk’s cat-like ears flicked up at the sound of a terrified child scream echoing through the Hotel’s surfaces, something he could hear clearly and he didn’t hesitate to jump down from the rooftop of the Hotel, since he knew that scream is yours
His mighty big red black and white casino-patterned detailed feathery wings spread open and help drop him down after leaping off the rooftop’s edges, climbing downwards, down the many many feet as fast as he can. His wings beating up and down rather hard, allowing him to pick up even more speed. Angel Dust calls out for Husk in shock for his sudden disappearance but nobody tries to actually stop him
Since they all know he’s going to rescue his daughter
Husk rushes into the Hotel, his many weapons prepared to attack. Furious, his ears still flicking with the sound of your fearful whimpering and crying for help, his feet beating with every single step. He needs to find you, you’re in danger! In no time, the ex-Overlord stops his sprint with a hard skid around the corner of the main Hotel’s entrance hallway, needing to make it to you in time
His golden yellow eyes widening in both intense fear and overwhelming unfiltered fury, at the sight before him… he almost can’t believe what he is seeing
“DADDY! HELP ME!”
You, roughly pressed into the corner and being held up by your neck by a single bloodthirsty Exterminator as you sob out with tears streaming and cry out for Husk as loud as you can, the silent angel gripping it’s angelic spear in it’s free hand whilst the other shoves you up against the wall. In that moment, Husk’s hollow powerless soul radiated a powerful magical force, a wave of strength that rushes through his systems and somehow…
That moment of anger and fear for his babygirl, triggered something thought to be completely impossible. His Overlord Magic, the souls’ powers he collected and the strength to attack an Angel full on has crashed onto him like a big tsunami wave, changing his causal black suspender-supported black pants outfit to his past snazzy business-centred suit and slick-black hairstyle, in a single spiral of orange glowing magic. His wings’ patterns had sharpened up, the red colouring glows a bright orange and his golden yellow eyes also grow a lot more sharper
The soul collar around his neck, the invisible magical green chain tying him to the deal cracked, like a big rock hitting a glass window… but it didn’t break
Even Alastor senses this incredible feat and it makes his bleeding wound throb out, gritting his fangs harder whilst hiding off in the darkness of his Voodoo magic. His tight ownership of Husk’s soul just gotten weaker, the bonds around the feline avian demon loosened up immensely for such a insignificant sinner doing a impossible task; temporarily transform back into his Overlord form
Husk didn’t even bother using the weapons, he used his returning power. Dropping those casino and gambling-centred items for battle to take advantage of being able to tap back into the strength he had lost via his deal with Alastor. The weird magical flow coursing through his bloodstream that made him feel on top of Hell and in that moment, he summons a large claw attack from the ground which smoothly slices off the Exterminator’s arms, the disembodied limbs dropping to the floor with a liquidy squish
Before the merciless angel can possibly behead you, as it was already attempting to do so. Having striked at you with its tall sharp spear. The Exterminator had been forced to drop you rather hard, stepping back whilst Husk openly charges this Exterminator and uses even more of his gained-back Overlord magic to case the Exterminator’s mask-covered and halo plus horn-decorated head with a semi-transparent explosive energy-dosed dice-shaped sphere
Shoving the Exterminator off to the right with a rather agile kick, the pure force behind this shove had caused the Angel to stumble back into the nearby wall with a very hard thump as Husk picks you up quickly, feeling your arms wrap around his neck and face sobbing into his suit-lathered chest, little body shivering, cat-like ears and tail drooped down helplessly
Husk‘s murderous rage-glazed golden yellow eyes glare hatefully at the Angel, who’s barely moving at this point, clutched one of his hands together and that magical sphere half-suffocating the Exterminator quickly blows up, effectively killing your attacker with just two magical strikes. You didn’t look at what your father did since you were so afraid of almost dying again and shuddering in his arms
Husk just glared with heavy angered huffing at the body of the Angel he just killed with his returned Overlord power, almost shaking in his boiling protective rage, all for his precious daughter. Nobody touches you on his watch
The ex-Overlord didn’t even get a chance to check up on you, forcing himself to look away from his handywork, to calm down your fearful and pained sobbing and wailing, since the Hotel begun to shake. He didn’t even bother running on foot, he had used a teleporting power in his current Overlord form and transports both himself and you out in a single blink and soft pop of silvery magic
As soon as you’re both out of the Hotel in that quick flash of teleportation magic, Husk spreads his wings again and takes you up off the ground to dodge the big yellow magical energy beam that slices up the Hotel in a single clean strike. It’s menacing, it’s intense but he isn’t going to focus on that until he has you off in a more safe location. Clearly, he messed up and his first decision didn’t work in protecting you
Husk ensures both you and himself are away from the Hotel enough, his mighty feathery wings flapping in the air with strong sharp gusts of wind slicing out every beat up and down, holding himself and you above the ground
He is usually a lazy man, not preferring to fly but right now. He must put you and your safety above everything so he’ll keep you a few feet away from the crumbling apart Hotel and a few feet off the floor as long as he has to, to make sure no other Angel can get their hands on you
He takes those few seconds of nothing and of the brief safety to check on you, rubbing fingers over your pinned-back fearful ears. Tilting your little chin up with your glowing teary eyes looking up at him as your lips quiver and letting out shaky breathes
You haven’t seen your father in his Overlord form in so long… it’s almost surreal that he is right now. The same suit, the same streaked pushed-back hair, the different patterns on his wings. However, he is still your beloved parent
“Are you okay, Princess? Daddy’s sorry that he didn’t come sooner. Did that bad Angel hurt you?”
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
Note
Could do a mini vestappen where he’s older and crashes and max is worried or he’s sick and still tries to race either one you choose!🩵
Prodigy
I think I understood this request right. If I didn't then I'm so sorry
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When Fabian Verstappen turned eighteen, he had his debut season in Formula One. Everybody was proud of him, but no one more than his mother and father.
Fabians debut season just so happened to be Max's last season in the sport. It was odd, father and son racing against each other. Fabian didn't often race against his father, though. He was stuck in the mid field while Max was up front with the top teams.
Y/N spent her time wearing Fabian's team colours. It was something she and Max had spoken about at great length when Fabian first got signed. As much as Max wanted his wife there, supporting him, he understood.
During Fabian's debut season, he shared a podium with his father. It was a truly magical moment, Max and Fabian spraying the champagne onto each other.
After Fabian's rookie season, Max retired. His retirement was later than anybody had expected, especially after having Fabian and his sister (who was given the choice between coming to watch her brother race or staying at her grandma's. She chose her grandma).
When Max retired, the sport lost a hero. So, they looked to Fabian. Fabian got his fathers seat in Red Bull Racing after he retired. His parents attended every race he went to, both of them wearing Red Bull shirts with Fabians number on them.
With Max now being retired, it meant he had time to follow his sons career around the globe. Most expected him to make a return like Alonso, but Max knew it was Fabian's time to shine.
Max knew the circuits better than anybody else. He knew which ones his son would excel around, but he also knew which ones were the most dangerous. He never let it show on his face how nervous he was, not when he knew how much it would upset his wife.
Singapore and Spa were the circuits which had Max the most panicked. In the Red Bull garage, he and Y/N watched as Fabian raced around, the lead car on the grid.
"Like father like son," Y/N said as she leaned against Max. It was raining, making the Verstappens all that more nervous. Fabian hadn't get come in for a pair of wet tires. His mother was ready to have a heart attack.
On the wet track, the Red Bull car spun. It span, the rear end hitting the wall. The back of the car completely disappeared as the barrier pushed it back around. "Fabi!" Cried Y/N, pushing away from her husband.
Max had to hold Y/N back as they looked to the engineer. "Is everything alright, Fabian?" He asked. No response. "Fabian? Can you hear me? Let me know you're all right."
Again, silence.
All Y/N could do was watch the screen focused on his car. Fabian hadn't yet climbed out of his car; Y/N chewed on her nails as she waited. When the other cars came past, her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest with anxiety.
There was a crackling on the radio. "Don't tell Christian, but I may have fucked up the car," came Fabian's voice.
The engineered turned around to give Fabian's parents the good news. Y/N let out a cry, ready to fall to her knees. She watched her son climb out of the car and give the crowd a thumbs up.
The entire incident had called for a red flag. An ambulance and a car were sent out to Fabian, but the Dutchman refused the ambulance, instead getting in the car to drive back to the paddock.
Y/N and Max were waiting anxiously for Fabian to return. When the young driver did, he walked towards his parents and pulled off his helmet. "Fabi," said Y/N, taking his face in her hands. She kissed him all over his face smoothed down his sweat slicked hair.
Placing his hand on his shoulder, Max pulled Fabian in for a hug. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, squeezing him tight.
"Thank you, papa."
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