#Thank you for asking me something that allowed me to talk about that SO MUCH

[pshcomforts]

➳ bad habit | psh.

nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“i wish i knew you wanted me”

synopsis: sunghoon never realized you loved him in high school until you confessed it on a drunken, celebratory day.

warnings/content: written in third pov. mentions of alcohol. aged up — hoon’s 23 and reader’s 22. oblivious sunghoon. kind of idiots in love. cursing. not proofread.

genre: angst with little fluff

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.6k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

so excited to join @okwonyo’s celestial ballet event! hope this goes well with the song as you play it <3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: bad habit by steve lacy

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:08 ────────|─────────── -2:43

after years in college, sunghoon found himself achieving a goal he’d never thought would come true — in which was landing his dream job abroad, allowing for his group of friends to celebrate with one last drinking night.

the air was filled with drunken laughs as everyone reminisced about the past, talking about high school and college memories, and the stupid stories that came from it.

y/n giggled next to dae, cheeks tinting a soft pink on her face as she mindlessly smiled, thankful for the non mentions of her crush on hoon back then.

but he caught glimpses of her grins, pressing his lips into a firm line to bite back whatever he could. his heart would still ring and call for her, making him unable to comprehend whatever jake was murmuring next to him.

“right hoon??”

“hm? oh yeah.. yeah, whatever.”

jake huffed out a laugh as he watched his friend keep his gaze on the girl in front of him.

“aye, sunghoon?” the aussie boy tried to snap, but hoon’s focus stayed completely on y/n as she unsteadily walked out.

he was quick to follow behind, ignoring the asked whereabouts from the others as dae peeked at ji-woo and min-su.

“should we..?” jungwon’s partner hesitantly questioned, trailing his voice off so the two could get the hint, but ji-woo only shook her head.

“no, let them talk.”

and so they did, leaving sunghoon to trail after y/n who decided to sit outside for fresh air.

the boy found her crouched down in a quiet area, much different than the rowdy atmosphere from before.

he gave a soft sigh, heart pounding in his ears as he took a seat next to her.

“hey,” his voice murmured. “you doing okay?”

he laid his eyes on y/n who still had bright cheeks from the alcohol consumed. she deemed a soft smile as her eyes closed. “me? of course i’m okay!” she shouted, hiccuping afterward.

sunghoon scoffed out a quiet laugh in return, hiding away his smile as he let his shoulders bump against hers again. the little touch was almost nothing, but it still sparked his heart that was mindlessly filled with her.

“you didn’t drink a lot, did you?”

“no…, you know i can’t handle alcohol very well.”

unknowingly, his lips curled as he remembered the other times they’d drink together in college.

“yeah.., i know.”

he felt his body warm up from the memories that flooded in, melting his heart in ways y/n couldn’t imagine.

“we had some good times in college, didn’t we?” she uttered, recalling back to the best memories she could find in her buzzed state. “i’m sure gonna miss you.”

sunghoon chortled out a laugh at her words. “i’ll miss you too, but i’ll still visit, you know?”

y/n felt her heart slightly shatter at the mere thought of not seeing her friend as much anymore. “yeah, but it won’t be the same, hoon. why do you think everyone was talking about our high school and college days?” she smiled, remembering the continuous group of friends kept along the years.

he sighed as he tilted his head up, glancing at each star that decorated the night sky. “high school was really something, wasn’t it?” he mumbled, softly freezing when the girl laid her head on his shoulder.

“yeah.., it really was.” he heard her muffle, allowing him to plaster on a wide grin.

“do you ever miss it? or wish you could go back?” sunghoon’s eyes twinkled as he continued to stare at the sky, thinking back to all of the good times he had.

“i’m not sure if i would honestly…,” y/n chuckled, causing him to hear it. he questioned what it was about, turning his head to find that she was still restlessly laying on his shoulder — so he glanced up at the stars again as he let her giggle.

“hoon..,” she hiccuped after a while.

“hm?”

“i was in love with you in high school.”

sunghoon’s heart immediately stopped beating when her words processed. he felt his body tense up and his throat suddenly ran dry once he blinked his eyes.

“w..what?” he stuttered, feeling like his heart was gonna burst. the male quickly pulled away, causing y/n to pick her head up as she beamed a half smile.

“yeah.. i was so in love with you in high school, i’m surprised you didn’t notice from our friends.”

he peered his gaze into hers as everything he felt almost went numb hearing the sudden news. his breaths got heavy, and his chest was heaving up and down from the realization.

from the lingering stares to the quiet shared touches they had in high school, the girls heart was close to exploding from each small interaction that never came to sunghoon’s attention.

from the way she tried to get close with him, asking him about his hobbies or interests to the way she also kept a distance to not be too much of a bother.

the high school girl was hopelessly in love with her friend who was oblivious.

his hand quickly ran to his chest, clenching onto the pained feeling as he remembered the constant ships with him and y/n from their friends. however, they always ended up being mindlessly excused by him. he deemed it to be uncomfortable for them both so he always pushed it away for her benefit.

going from that sign to another was when she always made sure to show up to his ice skating competitions with flowers and loud cheers, even when no one else could show. then they’d go out for ice cream and highlight the best of his performances.

✩ ‘i wish i knew’ ✩

or when he’d fall asleep during lunch and would suddenly wake up to a packaged sandwich and coffee milk on his desk with a little sticky note that’d say — ‘eat something, dummy y/n~ :)’ — causing an unaware smile to grace his drool covered face.

or even when the two would have to go to a study session together alone (totally not planned purposely by their friends), and they’d be out late together in tiring nights that’d be filled with quiet arguments and loud laughs. then hoon would knock out first and then the girl would too right after, letting them doze off while facing each other.

✩ ‘i wish i knew you wanted me’ ✩

none of those signs made sunghoon fall for her until after high school and in college.

when the academics began to get rough for him, he’d always think about just how much y/n was able to cheer him up in high school.

her constant nose crinkles and bright smiles were a heart throbbing realization that he loved his friend who was able to light his day.

ever since he realized it, he was always the one to make effort into having a full day that revolved around her, even if they had different schedules. it caused them to have constant drinking days and continuous study sessions that could be shared upon just those two.

but from what he didn’t know was that as soon as he figured out his feelings, y/n began to realize that he wouldn’t go for a girl like her. she was hit with the reality that even with her efforts in high school, he’d never turn to someone he just considered a friend.

so she forced herself to see him as a friend only, to see him as the way she thought he saw her. and though it hurt, it worked in some ways when she began to feel a warm fuzzy feeling she’s always felt towards her close friends.

sunghoon felt like an idiot. he was an idiot.

the signs were so obvious and yet young, high school hoon was too caught up in other things to realize it.

✩ ‘made a move, coulda made a move’ ✩

‘idiot’ — he mentally cursed to himself, heart breaking as y/n only laughed.

“it’s funny though, because at some point, i noticed how our friends began to give up on us being together. i guess they got tired of me constantly talking about you.” she chuckled to herself, still radiating off her buzzed state as she muttered, “sorry, this must be awkward to hear.”

sunghoon chewed his lips as he turned his gaze to her, finding the girl only staring at the night sky instead of him, though he wished she could just meet eyes with him.

“y/n..,” he weakly called, mouth dry with guilt. “i’m sorry…, i didn’t know you.. loved me in high school.”

✩ ‘if i knew, i’d be with you’ ✩

he watched her face morph into a reassuring grin, still not looking at him as if she couldn’t bear to lock eyes with the boy she used to love.

✩ ‘is it too late to pursue?’ ✩

“don’t be sorry, hoon. you didn’t know, you don’t have to be apologetic.” y/n finally looked back at him, face subtly lighting up in shock when she found him already staring at her.

“i still am…,” hoon defended, causing a hearty laugh to be heard from her, fluttering his heart.

“i’m okay, i swear. we were just kids anyway, what did we know? plus everything worked out for the best because we ended up being really close in college.”

ouch.

she meant her words to be filled with nothing but reassurance, but sunghoon couldn’t help the burning in his heart.

✩ ‘i bite my tongue, it’s a bad habit’ ✩

every part of his body ached with the pulses that were known as a heart break. his nails dug into the palm of his hands, harshly furthering it to distract what was really hurting him.

“right.. we were a good duo in both high school and college.” he murmured, laughing it off.

✩ ‘kinda mad that i didn’t take a stab at it’ ✩

y/n scrunched her brows as she shook her head. “maybe just college, high school was just me in love with you.” she grinned, jokingly ridiculing herself.

and college was him falling in love with her.

the way he always waited for her after her classes even when his class finished an hour early, or the way he always made sure she never drank too much with her lightweight — or even the way how she was now the one to knock out first in study sessions, and it’d let hoon stop studying and just linger his stare around her facial features as she slept.

but that was passed now.

sunghoon lowly chuckled, unable to hide away his feelings at this point as the girl was now the oblivious one.

✩ ‘it’s okay, things happen for’ ✩

“they’re memories i’ll always love to look back on.” y/n beamed, pursing her lips into a thin line as she huffed out a sigh. “i’ll miss you, hoon.”

she turned away, breaking the eye contact that he still longed for as she returned her head back onto his shoulder.

the boy exhaled a sigh as well, breaths lowly unsteady with the constant thought of high school y/n in love with him.

✩ ‘reasons that i think are sure, yeah’ ✩

“if you had a chance to redo high school, would you?” he restated his question from earlier. “like would you do it all if you got the chance? fall in love with me again?” his voice slightly trailed off, scared of what the girl would say.

y/n gave a soft hum as she thought to herself, unaware of what he was intending. “i don’t know if i’d go through the heartbreak again.” she laughed. “it was honestly pretty hard getting over you.”

hoon instantly felt his chest tighten at the admission, clenching his jaw to bite back the pain as he let her continue.

“i guess i would do it all again, but just to experience young love again. the innocence of having a first time crush and all is just so fresh, you know? it’s something you can’t have again after experiencing it.”

the male paused, only hearing his deep breaths as he realized that she was the one he had experienced that with, just as much as she did with him.

fuck, his heart hurt. it burned with a sense of loss, like this was the end for them.

sunghoon found himself unable to form a response as he was overloaded with how much time they could’ve saved if he knew.

“y/n..,” he softly croaked, gulping down his feelings when she interrupted — “but! i’d like to see that you not reciprocating my feelings back was a blessing in disguise.”

“o..oh…,” he cleared his throat. “really?”

“yep! i realized that after we started college because that was when i was able to really connect with you as a friend! made me realize that it was probably better off that we stayed this way instead of me being rejected.”

she laughed about her feelings being easily declined once more as sunghoon bit his lips and stayed quiet. it was a quick notice for her, causing her to softly nudge him.

“don’t dwell on the past and make it too awkward, loser.” y/n teased. “you don’t have to feel too bad for me.”

“i, uh.. just didn’t know… so i’m a little shocked.”

“i’d imagine you to be,” she cackled. “but don’t worry about this, that’s the past, let’s focus on your future! you’re gonna be flying out tomorrow for that job, i’m so proud of you.”

sunghoon smiled, nodding his head in agreement as he was finally brought back to reality.

“seriously so proud of you.. hoonie.” she gently called. “i’ll always cheer for you, okay? no matter where you are, i’ll always be your number one supporter.”

his lips softly curled at her words, eyes slowly blinking as he still felt his heart shatter. “from high school to now, you were always my favorite person to bring for support.” his husk voice murmured to her.

y/n grinned, tears welling in her eyes as she pulled him into a sudden hug. “i’m gonna miss you so much.., what am i gonna do without you?”

sunghoon scoffed out a laugh and sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her in closer. “i’m gonna miss you too but you can live without me just fine, y/n. it’s me who won’t be able to do anything without you.” he replied back with a shaky tone, tears sparking in his eyes as well.

“shut up, you’re gonna make me cry more!” the girl quickly smacked his back, earning a chuckle from him.

they pulled away after savoring the hug a little longer. sunghoon placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away the tears that drowned her face as he murmured, “you can’t replace me while i’m gone, okay?”

“why would i ever replace someone like you?”

y/n wailed out more cries after her words, allowing hoon to pull her in for another hug. he gave reassuring strokes as he laughed from hearing her cries.

“are you teasing me right now??” her shaky voice asked.

“no, no! i’m just happy we’re experiencing this together!”

“liar!”

the girl sent a few smacks toward him, and the bickering went back and forth before they both deemed it enough.

the two went back to staring at the starry night with y/n’s head laying on sunghoon’s shoulder.

✩ ‘i know i’ll be in your heart till the end’ ✩

he loved her too late, and she loved him too early.

he wished he knew, he wished the girl he loved had confessed sooner because it was too late to make a change now.

though her heart still somewhat called for him, he was leaving and she couldn’t do anything about it.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

#pshcomforts #okwonyo’s 🩰 ( 천상의 발레 ) #enhypen #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon angst #enhypen soft hours #enha angst #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha sunghoon

[onboardsorasora]

https://www.tumblr.com/overtake/746762194848563200/your-post-about-max-liking-daniels-ig-just-opened could u write something based on this?

I have had this ask for so long, sorry bestie- my brain was doing a thing at the time lol. lol thank you @secretdonderwolk for the unintentional prompt

His phone vibrated in his pocket, three times for three messages. He had an idea about who this was, he hoped it was his sister complaining about something. Or even Seb– even though he sat across from him at lunch. Seb could be annoying like that, but that was also because Daniel had been annoying like that first. 

Putting his phone on the table, he saw the screen light up with notification banners from Instagram. There was the broad one about how many thousand likes his post workout selfie had gotten. But then there was the secondary banners about replies and DMs. A familiar user name peaked up at him; 3_MaxV_3. 

Daniel rolled his eyes then flipped his phone on its screen. That kid, because he was a kid, with his scrawny body posing with a sideways cap in one picture, in a couch with dogs in another. But mostly in a race suit at a karting track. That kid had been messaging him for weeks now. He did the same thing repeatedly; Daniel posted a thirst trap photo (he looks damn good and it shows he’s working out) and then Max would be in the replies sending one thing the 💯emoji– three times of course. 

Daniel never responded to him after the first time, which was an accident, but the kid seemed to have taken that interaction as an open door to send Daniel reels of memes he already saw when he scrolled mindlessly through tiktok. He was surprised that a seventeen year old wasn’t on tiktok and was instead using instagram, but that also didn’t matter to Daniel. One less platform for this kid to find him on.

“Your new boyfriend again?” Seb teased with a snort.

“First of all, ew. He’s like still in diapers, mate.”

“I dunno why you let him annoy you so much. He’s harmless, still like in junior formula or whatever.”

“Don’t they call it like formula 3 now or something?”

“Who the fuck knows anymore. They change the names of this shit every year. Come I’m not allowing you make me be late for engineering.” Seb stood from his seat while Daniel cackled.

“I was one time!”

“One time is more than enough I think.”

— - —

Daniel pressed post on the thumbs up selfie. He’d gotten a podium today and wanted to commemorate after a long day. The first notification came quickly after. 💯💯💯 Daniel had become used to the routine by now, he already assumed that the kid had his post notifications on. It was weird but Daniel didn’t think too closely of it.

He did notice a difference this time. His username was different; maxverstappen_33. Daniel clicked into his profile, not something he did but there was a change in the routine and he was curious about why.

Lots of karting pictures met his eyes, pictures on podiums and in the garage. There were a lot more sponsor logos than before and Daniel couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He himself knew how difficult it was to even get sponsors to talk to you in karting, much less to invest. 

While he was scrolling through the rest of the profile, careful not to double tap anything of course, another notification banner from maxverstappen_33 popped up. “You are so beautiful Daniel.”

And well… that was new. Normally he’d get a lion or capybara video by now. MaxV had taken to sending him videos of quokkas recently too. Daniel had never given him the impression that these videos were appreciated or cared for– though he had watched a couple of them– so he didn’t understand this step up to shooting his shot.

Daniel closed out of the profile and then the app. He needed to get some sleep.

— - —

They’d told him to record a video for some kid getting his super license soon. That was new, but maybe Seb had been the one welcome in the new drivers in the program. It was quick with well wishes for some kid named Max. 

Daniel had wondered initially if it was MaxV, or rather Max Verstappen. But Vicky had told him nothing more and MaxV was supposed to be going to formula 2 now anyways. No way Red Bull would be making such a stir over a kid.

When he got out of the sim he had a bitchload of notifications. Red Bull had tagged him in something and people were congratulating him. Ace. He went to his DMs to see a new message from Maxverstappen_33;

‘Thank you for the video. It was lovely Daniel.’

Well, shit.

— - —

It happened slower than he thought it would have. But quickly in the grand scheme of things. Daniel stepped out of his motorhome, zipping up his race suit and thanking the handler to his left for his hat. It was shoot day today with the whole team, including the boys from Torro Rosso.

Daniil slotted in beside him and Daniel dapped him up. This would be their second year as teammates and Daniel was excited for the year to come. 2016 felt like the year maybe, to take the championship fight to Mercedes. The car was quick in the sim and Adrian said the wind tunnel tests have been phenomenal. Daniel was ready.

What he wasn’t ready for, was the guy who stepped right in front of him. Blonde hair, electric blue eyes. Familiar as fuck face pulled into a smile. 

“Daniel! It is great to finally meet you after all this time.”

Daniel hadn’t ever considered meeting MaxV in person, the kid that’s been sending him 💯 emoji what felt like weekly for the last maybe two years. If you scrolled through their DM it was very one sided. But here he was, very caught out at the very real and very eager kid waiting for his reply. This would probably be the first time he ever did reply.

“Enchante, Max.” Daniel grinned and glanced over a Daniil when Max’s face flushed with a blush.

He didn’t think about it the rest of the day. Not when Max kept telling jokes and whipping his head around to see his reaction. Not when Max would hold Carlos’ hand and pulling him into close hugs only to turn and look to Daniel’s reaction.

Daniil was having a field day and he knew Seb was going to learn about this somehow.

He didn’t think about it. Because Max was a kid or whatever and it was weird.

Max sought him out fairly regularly after that, bolstered by being in the same company and paddock. Invigorated at the fact that Daniel responded to him every time.

— - —

Daniel heard the news but he hadn’t quite believed it. He knew RedBull did driver swaps, apparently ‘all the time’ but he didn’t think he ever saw it happen mid season like this. 

He walked into the garage to see the host of cameras and mics. The identical RB12 no longer sported Daniil’s number but now had a large 33 plastered over it. The garage was also sporting the new 3|33 decals. Daniel knew that marketing was having a field day.

He stepped off to the meeting rooms to wait for the crowd to clear, fiddling on his phone. He’d never admit it, not even under the pain of a slow as fuck pitstop, that he was interested to see what the hubbub was about. What could possibly be so good about Max that they would do such a public shaming of Daniil.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he tweeted a bit and posted a new picture to instagram during the time. The notification banner popped up; maxverstappen_33☑️ 💯💯💯

Daniel grinned to himself, still surprised that Max had kept this up. Still apparently had his post notifications on. The door opened. 

“Daniel that picture was lovely.” Max sat in the seat across from him in the conference room. His RedBull polo was a little askew, and he was smiling widely.

Well, shit.

#i hope this is what you had in mind bestie and I also hope this is actually good lmao #if it isnt we def can pretend it didn't happen lool #answered #anonymous #maxiel #max/daniel #my fic #I have sooo many other prompts in my ask. i need to like get on that lol

[gurokiitty]

hii!! i love all of ur writing and headcannons so much, would there be any chance you could write about strade kidnapping reader who just so happens to be a virgin? he knows about this thanks to some talking beforehand at the bar and later brings it up. he ends up taking their virginity (unwanted hehe) thanks a lot if u write this !! 🙈🙈🙈 feel free to change the consent !!

a/n: tysm! as a certified virgin™️, yes i can!!! <3 hope you enjoy :3

IN THE WOLF'S DEN

{ strade x virgin! gn! reader }

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: NSFW (graphic), NONCON, build-up, brief alcohol use, kidnapping, violence, knifeplay, blood and injury, licking and biting, mild corruption themes, loss of virginity, creampie.

Your fingers glide along the rim of your glass, tracing patterns in the condensation that pools beneath your touch. Amidst the cacophony of voices in the bar, his presence stands out, a solitary figure who commands your attention. He emerges from the crowd, his sharp features softened by the warm lights, and his eyes gleam with a dangerous allure, drawing you in with each step he takes. He slides onto the stool beside you, effortlessly claiming the space as his own.

"Name's Strade," he offers, his voice smooth and accented. You introduce yourself in return, feeling the weight of his gaze as you shift nervously in your seat.

"You look like you have something on your mind," he observes, taking a sip of his drink. You're taken aback by his directness, but something about him draws you in, a magnetic pull you find impossible to resist.

You swallow, nerves dancing beneath your skin as you meet his gaze. His presence is overwhelming, yet oddly comforting. "I guess so," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, "but it's nothing I'd share with a stranger."

His chuckle ripples through the air, a low sound that sets your pulse alight. "Ah, but aren't strangers the best confidants? No judgments, no preconceptions."

His words resonate within you, coaxing a nod of agreement. "I suppose you're right," you concede, turning your gaze back to him.

You begin to open up, sharing things you've never told any stranger before. You tell him that you're alone, that your family lives in a different city, that you feel the most lonely you have in your adult life. The words spill freely from your lips and he listens with an intensity that both unnerves and excites you. And then, almost as an afterthought, you confess a truth you've kept hidden for so long— the truth of your virginity.

Strade's reaction is immediate, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. "A virgin," he muses, his voice edged with amusement, "how intriguing."

A flush blooms across your cheeks, a blend of embarrassment and exhilaration at his reaction. Your fingers linger on the rim of your near-empty glass, his gaze holding you captive.

"In what way?" you ask, a small thrill pulsing through your veins.

Leaning closer, his smile widens, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "It's not every day you find someone so… untouched. It makes you unique, like a rare gem."

Your pulse quickens at his words, but before you can respond, the bartender interrupts; a temporary reprieve. You hastily order another drink, the liquid a balm for your nerves.

As the night wears on, you lose yourself in conversation, the sounds of the other patrons fading into insignificance. Only when the bar begins to empty does reality come crashing and you realize it's time to part ways.

"I should get going," you say, pushing yourself away from the bar. "I have an early morning." Before you can take another step, he's beside you, his hand grazing yours in a tantalizing caress. "Allow me to walk you to your car," he offers, his eyes twinkling with a dangerous glint.

There's part of you that hesitates, a silent warning echoing in the recesses of your mind; but the pull of his presence is undeniable, drawing you into his orbit once more.

The streets are quiet as you make your way through the night, the only sound is the soft shuffle of your footsteps on the pavement. You steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, his silhouette a dark shadow against the moonlit sky.

As you round a corner into a dimly lit alley, the air suddenly thickens with an ominous tension. Your heart quickens its pace, a silent drumbeat of warning, and in an instant, he's upon you, pinning you against the rough surface of the alley wall. His grip is firm, almost bruising, as he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your face.

"Don't make a sound," Strade whispers, sending shivers racing down your spine. His smile, once charming and enticing, now twists into something dangerous; like a predator revelling in its prey.

Panic surges within you as you struggle against his hold, your pleas swallowed by the gaping alley. With a sickening thud, your head meets brick and stars explode behind your eyelids as darkness descends like a shroud.

You awaken to the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights, your head pounding with a dull, insistent ache. Disoriented, you blink against the harsh brightness, your surroundings slowly emerging from the haze. No longer are you in the alley; instead, you find yourself in a musty basement, the air thick with the scent of damp and decay.

Your heart lurches as you shift, feeling a cold metal pole press into your back and your arms bound tightly behind it. Panic claws at your insides, fueling a desperate struggle against the restraints.

"Ah, you're awake already?" Strade's voice cuts through the silence like a blade, sending a shiver down your spine. You turn your head to see him descending the stairs with an unsettling grace, his silhouette looming like a spectre in the dim, flickering light.

"Wha— What's going on?" you stammer, your voice trembling with fear.

He chuckles, a sound devoid of warmth, as he crouches to meet your gaze. "You don't remember? Our chat was going so well... You opened up to me about so many things,"

Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as your naivety sinks in like a lead weight. "Please, let me go," you plead, shrinking back against the cold metal pole, trying to distance yourself from him.

But he only smiles in response, seemingly unmoved by your desperation. "I wanted to get to know you on a more... intimate level," He explains, his tone disturbingly casual. "So I took you home."

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves closer, the heat of his body an unwelcome presence. With a swift motion, he withdraws a knife from his belt, the blade gleaming in the dim light.

"Please," you whimper again, tears clouding your vision. "I'll do anything, just let me go."

Strade laughs, the sound echoing in the confines of the basement. "Anything, huh?" he muses, that menacing smile still etched on his face. "Well then."

He places the knife on the floor and leans into you, his body pressing intimately against yours. He's so close you can smell him— a dreadful blend of sweat and petroleum invading your senses. Rough hands reach for the ropes binding your wrists, causing you to flinch. With deft movements, he begins to untie the knots, his fingers brushing over your skin in a way that makes your stomach churn.

The ropes fall away, and you gasp in relief, only to feel his hands seize your shoulders, shoving you back against the pole. Strade retrieves his knife and kneels before you, his bulky frame illuminated by the overhead lights.

"Now," he commands, gesturing with the blade, "strip."

You swallow hard, bile rising in the back of your throat as you meet his gaze. Slowly, with trembling hands, you begin to remove your clothes, the fabric rustling loudly in the silence of the basement.

Strade watches you intently, his eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. You strip down to your underwear, your clothes a crumpled heap at your feet. The cool air of the basement chills your skin, and you curl into yourself, attempting to shield your body from his invasive gaze. He steps closer, his free hand brushing across your cheek.

"Have you ever stripped naked for anyone before?" he asks, almost tauntingly, his face mere inches from yours. You shake your head, your voice barely a whisper. "N-No," you manage to croak out, the response hanging between you.

Strade chuckles as if amused by your innocence. "I figured as much," he sneers, "A virgin in every sense."

He watches your reaction with a sadistic delight, savouring your fear— your vulnerability, as you shrink further into yourself.

"Aww, you're trembling," he observes, his eyes raking over your quivering form. "Niedlich."

With a sudden, brutal motion, he grabs your ankles, dragging you forward until you're sprawled on the ground before him. He crawls over you, his weight pressing heavily, the knife still firmly in his grasp.

Strade brings the knife to your chest, the cold steel kissing your skin before biting in with a sharp sting. You gasp, a cry of pain escaping your lips as the red line blossoms with warm, crimson buds. His eyes gleam with sadistic delight, his thumb pressing into the wound and smearing the blood across your skin.

"So cute," he repeats, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "I could just devour you whole!"

His tongue flicks out to trace a wet, humid stripe along your jaw, his putrid saliva mingling with your tears. "Hah... You taste sweeter than I imagined, Liebling," he purrs, and you shudder beneath him, the sensation both revolting and terrifying. His fingers then trail down your stomach, his touch like a brand against your skin.

"But you forgot something," he breathes, forcing your trembling knees apart.

Your blood runs cold as he carves a delicate line along your abdomen with the knife. He stops just below your navel and flattens the blade against your stomach, sliding it beneath your underwear. His movements are slow, deliberate, and you can feel the blade prodding the delicate skin of your groin.

Strade's breathing is quick and shallow, his breath warm across your face as the flush of excitement tints his cheeks. "Don't squirm too much," he whispers, his voice trembling with anticipation.

Without looking down, he begins to slice through the fabric of your underwear, the knife gliding effortlessly through the thin material. The sound of ripping cloth fills the silence, mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. As the last shred of fabric falls away, your body is laid bare, exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

He runs the flat of the blade over your abdomen once more, a sadistic smile spreading across his face as he revels in your fear. "So rein," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "So unbroken. It's almost a shame." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, "but not quite."

As Strade sheaths the knife, you attempt to pull yourself away, the concrete chafing your palms with each drag. He follows close behind you, his cruel smile unwavering. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you desperately try to crawl faster, but it's futile. His hand clamps down on your waist with a bruising grip, yanking you back towards him.

You cry out in terror and frustration, the sound echoing in the desolate basement. He flips you onto your wounded stomach, your skin scraping painfully against the floor. With a sadistic grin, Strade forces your head down, pressing your cheek into the rough concrete. It bites harshly into your skin, and you can feel your tears mingling with the grime.

The metallic clink of a belt buckle sends a fresh wave of fear through you, and the sound of a zipper follows soon after. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as he positions himself between your legs, his weight pressing down on you. His hands roam over your body, squeezing and kneading, leaving blooms of purple on your tender skin.

His grin widens as he leans in, panting. "This may... sting a little," he taunts, his voice sticky against your ear.

"No! Wait!" you cry, your voice cracking with desperation. Your pleas are met with cold indifference as he slams into you, his cock worming past the resisting tissue and resting deep inside. A searing pain rips through your body, and you scream, the sound raw and guttural.

"Mmm, perfekt..." he huffs, revelling in your agony.

You choke on your sobs, the foreign sensation warm and heavy, and tearing with force. Something warm and wet trickles down your thighs, coating them—and him— in a cherry-red sheen. With each brutal thrust, your cheek grates against the rough concrete floor, the blistering ache engulfing your pleas. Strade shows no mercy, his movements relentless and punishing, each gasp and flinch you make fueling his perverse excitement.

"That's it," he breathes, heavy and strained. "Scream for me."

The pain blurs into a surreal haze, your mewls crumbling into incoherent moans and whimpers. Strade's weight is suffocating and his flesh is damp against yours; a clammy, sweaty layer uniting you both. His breath is hot and heavy as it mingles with the nauseating wet slapping between you.

His teeth drag threateningly along your shoulder as his thrusts become more frenzied. He curses against your skin before biting down hard on your neck with a sudden, primal urge. You yelp in pain and he cums, the warm spurts seeping deep inside your body.

Strade chuckles breathlessly as he pushes himself off of you, his eyes heavy and pupils dilated.

Your own eyes flutter open, puffy and glossed with tears as you roll over, curling into yourself on the unforgiving concrete. Through the haze, you dimly register the traces of your spit and blood splattered beside your face; the rough surface glittering almost beautifully under the light.

#sssoooo sorry for the wait aaagggg #strade x reader #btd x reader #btd strade #ykmet strade #strade btd #joonsbagchaser requests #tw noncon #tw violence #tw blood

[paisleypens]

for ever will be your tee hee 🫶🏻🙌🏻🤭

another spencer idea too just for you babe

spencer invites reader over he meets her through tommy or something

And reader has never played video games before and he teaches them :)))

(my mom never left me play video games so this makes me happy. i ofc play now it just makes me a lil emo)

guys the genius is back for another incredible request!!

mario kart: get seventh the girl! | spencer agnew x reader

doesn’t have to be a girl i just think i’m clever

tried second person idk fam…

she’s also very short and sweet (just trust i rewrote this like five times)

~~~

Tommy's parties were legendary, and despite not knowing many faces in the crowd, you felt a sense of ease knowing Tommy was there. As you navigated through the room, you eventually found Tommy with some of his work friends, including Spencer Agnew. Tommy had mentioned Spencer before, describing him as someone you'd get along with.

"Y/N, meet Spencer. He's part of the games team at Smosh," Tommy introduced.

"Nice to meet you," you said with a friendly smile.

Spencer returned the smile. "Nice to meet you too."

Throughout the night, you and Spencer found yourselves gravitating back to each other, drawn by shared interests in quirky movies and hilarious college stories. The more you talked, the more you realized how easy it was to connect with Spencer's nerdy and sarcastic personality.

As the conversation circled back to Spencer's work, he asked, "So, what games are you into?"

You hesitated before admitting, "Honestly, I don't really play video games."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? That's rare to hear these days."

"Yeah, I wasn't allowed to growing up, and now I feel a bit out of place jumping into it," you explained with a shrug.

Spencer leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It's never too late to start. How about we break the ice with some Mario Kart? Unless you're afraid of getting beaten by a pro."

You chuckled. "Not afraid, just not keen on embarrassing myself here."

"Fair enough. How about we try at my place? If you're up for it, of course," Spencer suggested with a playful grin.

You paused for a moment, considering his offer. "You know what, why not? Let's do it."

Back at Spencer's place, the gaming setup was ready in no time. Spencer handed you a controller, guiding you through the basics of Mario Kart and as the race began, Spencer's teasing comments and your laughter filled the room. Despite your initial fumbles, Spencer's patient guidance helped you improve with each lap. Between races, you and Spencer shared stories, jokes, and friendly banter, creating a new dynamic between you two.

“Thanks Spencer, this was really nice.” You got up to leave his apartment, him getting up too to walk you out.

Spencer opened the door for you but paused, “I'm glad, I had a lot of fun tonight, maybe we could do this again sometime.”

“Definitely, there is still so much more you need to teach me.” You laughed before leaving his apartment.

#smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #paisleypens

[galedekarios]

Where is the quote from your last edit from? Or did you write it? Thank you!

[in reference to this edit]

"Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet."

it's a quote from early access!

in early access, there were two versions of gale's backstory that gale would tell the protag after the tiefling party, spending the night together or not, depending on the player's choice.

one version allowed gale to talk about what happened to him as a story, with him being his own narrator. the other version is largely as it is now in the game.

the conversation started like this:

Gale: I know we have to get moving again soon, but before we part, I’d like to tell you something. I’d like to tell you a story. It is a story full of answers long overdue. It is a story of a man who fell in love with a goddess. - Player - Option 1: Very well, I’ll play along. Regale me, Gale. Gale: Thank you.  - Player - Option 2: It’s clear as day you are talking about yourself, you know. Gale: I know, but a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me. - Player - Option 3: Hold on. You were in love with Mystra? And you tell me this now? Or alternatively, Player - Option 4: Just tell me what’s really going on, would you? Gale: Please – a bit of narrative distance will make it all so much easier in the telling. Indulge me.

if you then chose to indulge gale, letting him tell the story with "a bit of narrative distance" to make it "easier in the telling" for him, this was the story he would tell the player in early access:

Gale: Once upon a time, not quite that long ago, there lived a wizard in a tower. The wizard was what one might call a prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it, like a musician or a poet. Such was his skill that it earned him the attention of the mother of magic herself. The Lady Of Mysteries, Mystra.

from there, the conversation branched again and it's also where the 'delicate veils' line comes from, which was sadly cut, like so many of gale's ea scenes and lines:

Player - Option 1: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love.  - Player - Option 2: He sounds like a very talented individual Gale: He was. Even though it was in Mystra’s affections that his true power lay. - Player - Option 3: Teacher’s pet, was he? Gale: He fancied himself much more than that. He fancied himself favoured above all others. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him.

all these options would then lead to:

Gale: Mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. The gossamer veils first, draped across the Weave. The delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘Chosen One’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely.

if the player denies gale, and asks for the 'plain' version of the story instead, gale used to say the following, which is very similar to the version we have now in the full release version of the game:

Gale: Very well. The plain version it is. I am what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the Weave, but compose it like a virtuoso. - Player - Option 1: Are you telling me the wizard made love to a goddess? Gale: Yes. Until one day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. The veils were drawn once more, and the wizard was left behind heartbroken. - Player - Option 2: The veils draped across the Weave? Gale: Indeed. What most wizards perceive is but the ripple of the Weave’s surface. Untold wonders lie beyond. I enjoyed them for a while, as we enjoyed each other. - Player - Option 3: Finally the story is getting interesting. Gale: Alas it was Mystra’s interest that didn’t last.

from there on, the protag was able to decide whether to keep gale by their side, as romantic partners, friends, travel companions, or to send him away entirely, as well as ask him further questions about his conditions as well as his feelings about mystra.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks #meta: mybg3

[mothwingwritings]

WOW!!! I LOVED "The Innocent Act Of Dredging Up The Past", IT WAS VERY GOOD!

I wonder how Y/N reacted when she found out she was pregnant and how Fox allowed herself to keep the baby because he doesn't seem like someone who likes sharing attention.

Thank you so much darling!!! I am so glad you asked me this because I have been thinking about Ren as a father nonstop since that request. My brain has been full of many thoughts and opinions and I am happy to have an outlet for sharing lol. That being said, forgive my blathering. ^^;

(18+ and warnings for noncon, pregancy/baby birthing talk, incredibly unhealthy relationships, abuse, and being kidnapped/held against your will.)

Being impregnated by Ren would be absolutely dreadful for you, causing you to spiral into a pit of fear and despair the moment you miss a period or begin to feel queasy in the morning. With the signs starting to show, your brain comes to the instant conclusion that you are with child-his child, and it frightens you like nothing else before. At first you try and convince yourself nothing is wrong, that you are probably just late due to stress, and your upset stomach can be any number of things, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are pregnant. Any of your symptoms can be explained away by something else, so in an effort to try and maintain your sanity your brain churns out explanation after explanation, no matter how nonsensical they may be, in hopes of calming your rampant nerves by coming to some other resolution. A stream of constant lies and false reassurances play on repeat in your brain, forcing the thought that you may actually be a mother to the farthest reaches of your mind.

But the longer you wait and the more you dwell on it, the more you are faced with the inevitable. He never wears protection, you haven’t had access to birth control, and despite your warnings of it being a delicate time of month for you, his base instincts always won out in the end. There was nothing else this could be.

Faced with the reality of the situation, you were now tasked with the burden of sharing the news with Ren. You didn’t want to tell him, terrified of what his response would be, worried that he would somehow blame this all on you and hurt you because of it, quite possibly worse than he ever has before. But an even more horrifying concern than that is if the news actually pleases him. What if he wants to keep the baby? What if you were forced to carry this pregnancy to term while trapped in this grim environment, left to raise another human that shares half their dna with a man who has done nothing but cause you irrevocable damage?

No matter what the outcome, none of them are favorable.

But you didn’t have a choice, and you knew it was better to break it to Ren sooner rather than later, lest this whole nightmare become irreversible. In the event he saw things your way, you wanted this thing out of your body as soon as possible (though you loathed to consider what strings Ren would pull to achieve this, and what backwater procedure would be done to do so).

At first Ren brushes it off, not truly believing your concern. He’s had sex with you countless times without protection and just now you get pregnant? Seems suspicious, so he concludes you’re either overreacting or trying to get a rise out of him, potentially both, and that in and of itself riles him up. Are you telling him this as some kind of ploy? Are you using a false pregnancy as a means to get him to ease up on you a bit or as an attempt at escape? After all you had gone through together, after all the love he has lavished upon you by sharing his home, his life, his heart, with you… Would you really tell a lie like this?

He struggles with that possibility. Despite his inclination to feel otherwise, he has a hard time believing you would use a pregnancy scare for your own selfish benefit. You have always been a good girl, his good girl, and deep inside he knows this is not something that is within your nature to do, even if he does have some major doubts.

So, though he doesn’t truly believe your claims, he buys the pregnancy test more as a means to shut you up and prove a point than because he actually believes you. Needless to say, he ends up biting his tongue over that one.

When hit with the truth, his emotions are mixed. On one hand, he wants nothing to do with children or child rearing. He didn’t have to do much of a self-assessment to recognize he would be a shit father, and he never particularly wanted to be a father to begin with. His own upbringing wasn’t the best, he himself never really having a father figure that was worth a damn to guide him or show him any love or support. He had no parenting manual to go off of, and was sure that a culmination of having no positive family experience and maturing into the warped individual he had become led to no other conclusion than NOT being cut out for fatherhood in the slightest.

More than that however, the thought of sharing you, even with a life he helped create, really REALLY pissed him off. Thinking of all the nights you would be spending tending to the baby when you could instead be wrapped up in his arms, or all the attention and affection you will be giving some inept kid that could instead be going towards him, truly gets under his skin. He doesn’t WANT to share you. You’re HIS. And while a baby isn’t going to change that, he doesn’t want the needless competition to begin with.

But on the other hand, having a baby does have its appeal. It would be nice to bring a life into this world that loves him from the get-go, completely relying on him while being totally oblivious to all that has happened in the past. That sort of pure, blind love is hard to come by in this world, and the fact that he could obtain it so easily from a life he created with you, a human that has your blood running through its veins, is EXTREMELY appealing. And on top of that, you are sure to love the child whether its conception was wanted/planned or not. If you loved a child that was half his for the remainder of your life, would that not bind you to him for just as long? Though he didn’t doubt your loyalty (or his ability to keep you tied to him with no hope of escape), it would be a nice assurance to have in the rare event things did not end up going his way.

Once that thought enters his head, it’s over. No further thinking or future planning is required-he is going to be a father, and YOU are the beautiful mama! Congratulations! (Does he get off to you being pregnant? Did this pregnancy make Ren Hana realize he has a breeding kink??? Sources say yes and that’s your problem to deal with now. :))

♡

Holding his newborn for the first time, he has never been so nervous. Tears flood his eyes as he watches the small bundle squirming in his arms, his heart aching as they stare up at him with wide, pure, inquisitive eyes. He was no stranger to ending lives, but creating them? This was something entirely new, as exhilarating as it was scary. His smile grew as he stared at her small face, pleased that she looked so much like you. He could only hope that her personality would mirror yours as well.

♡

As time passes and the baby grows, you find out quick that Ren has a very ‘hands off’ way of parenting, which is to say he relies on you to do most of the work. And honestly, he feels that is fair. He’s the breadwinner who works hard to provide for you and the newborn, which leaves all other parental duties in your capable hands. You are left to be the child’s main caregiver, their guiding force to lead them through life, their teacher, confidante, and friend. It’s a daunting task, all residing solely on your shoulders.

Ren won’t readily admit it, but he much prefers it that way. All the abuse that he has suffered through from an early age, every heinous act of violence that has been carried out by his own hands (your wounds, included), all of it has turned him into something unrecognizable, something grotesque. Even if he wanted to have more of a presence in his child’s life, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. If he had too much sway in the kids development there’s a good chance they will grow up to be like him in some way or another, which would be a waste of all the love and hard work that you had put into raising them into being an upstanding person. Ren had made peace with who he had become, but that didn’t mean he wanted to keep a cycle that someone like Strade had begun going either.

So, the baby more or less becomes your soul responsibility, and god is that a burden for you. It’s bad enough that you have such little support from Ren to begin with, but the fact that this is YOUR first time being a parent as well makes it all so much worse. You have no idea what the hell you are doing, and with Ren making sure to keep you as isolated as possible you had no one else to turn to for help, either. It was just you and this brand new life with no one else to rely on, if you fucked up in even the smallest way it could be devastating to the baby. If your daughter got truly hurt, sick, or worse in your care, you didn’t know how you would live with the repercussions, let alone handle Ren’s reaction.

If your life with Ren hadn’t already made you a strung out, nervous, irritable wreck, being a mother certainly would. As she continues to grow, Ren refuses to discipline the child at all, not wanting in any way to appear like a ‘bad guy’ to your daughter. Given the circumstances, part of you is thankful for that (you honestly don’t know what you would do if he turned his ire towards her), but it also just makes things more difficult with you. You are already beyond stressed about trying to raise a child in this type of environment, having no united front and constantly butting heads makes raising her that much harder, especially when any kind of rule you attempt to establish can so easily be overridden by her father who has no remorse over the frustration this causes, nor care as to how his flippancy may affect your child’s development in the long run.

It’s also not lost on you that being the sole disciplinarian also paints you in a less than favorable manner in your child’s eyes, something you are sure Ren has thought about as well. Being the ‘strict’ parent means your child will be more likely to hide things from you, or seek out her father instead of you for support, approval, and advice. Given whom Ren was as a person, this thought didn’t sit particularly well with you.

All you can really hope and pray for is that somehow despite the lack of social interaction and outside influence she will grow up to be a decent human. Even maturing under the delusion that her father is a noble man, even if in some instances you have to make yourself the villain, as long as it helps her out in  the long run you’ll do everything you can to insure your daughter lives the best life she possibly can, whether her father helps you or not.

I think the REAL problems will begin when the child gets older. When she truly comes into herself and forms her own opinions, develops her own personality, and starts to forge her own way of life… It’s gonna be messy. :/ Your child’s autonomy is definitely going to be a point of contention for Ren in the future, and he won’t be so pleased if/when she catches on to his true nature and begins to rebel or straight up reject him. God forbid she tries and join forces with you or attempt to become your savior. It’s going to take a lot of cunning on her end to make it out unscathed.

Also, I kind of touched on it previously, but Ren would be incredibly horny the whole pregnancy. Not that he isn’t already incessantly slavering over you, something about seeing you round and full just makes him snap. Which is scary in its own right, Ren isn’t the most gentle of lovers to begin with and has a tendency to lose himself more often than naught, hurting you in the process. It’s a constant struggle to satiate him while protecting yourself and the unborn baby, best of luck to you! :D

(And he’ll definitely breastfeed from you. He’s gotta make sure you are producing enough for the baby, ya know? :))

#overall I think he would really grow to love the fun and cute aspects of fatherhood #but all the hard and gross stuff hes like OK I am out moms turn fuck this #and he would be fixated on making himself out to be the coolest dad ever. He yearns for it. His kid HAS to think hes awesome in every way. #If his child makes fun of him he will cry and think about it for the rest of his life. #it will be 3am 8 years later and he will randomly mention the time they laughed at him to you while lying in bed together and you are like #why do you even remember this? lul #anyway THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! #ren hana x reader #ren hana headcanon #ren hana x y/n #ren btd x reader #ren btd x y/n #fox tpof x reader #fox tpof x y/n #fox tpof headcanon #mothresponse #mothwingswritings

[fling-graysons]

Birsflash angst could be so much better if it was treated as exes.

Imagine Dick cuddled up by himself after a mission where he wasn’t allowed to thrive, an arguement with Bruce and missing the flashing lights and cheers of the audience. He’d be lonely. No one to share the loneliness till Wally comes knocking on his door and he lets him kiss him. Not even to feel loved but to feel wanted and acknowledged to then have this go on continuously and without definition so when Wally just stops then it’s extra confusing because what were they? They weren’t dating but they were everything to each other so how do you move on when you don’t know what you’re moving away from?

Now it’s just awkward because they will do anything but talk about it. Feelings are hard and they’re great as friends, better even but sometimes in Dick’s hardest moments or Wally’s they can feel themselves slipping back into it. They can feel that same love bleed back out only to make them remember what used to be then pull away from each other even harder because they know better than to allow themselves to do that. They are adults now that have to make adult decisions.

These ideas are much more chewy.

I've been here for a long time but this is the first time I found myself answering an ask so I feel like this

Anyway

HECK YEAH I LOVE THE FLAVOUR UGHHH

I too see their sexual tension and can't help but ship them.

I fucking love their kinda awkward dynamic where they don't see each other for a lot ton of time. Sometimes they don't even acknowledge the things they've been through when they didn't see each other but they don't esitate to defend the other and keep calling the other their best friend.

I always think about how Dick and Kori stayed at Wally's house after that wedding fiasco, how Dick got offended when Wally first came to Hal to ask for help and not Dick. They have this kind of pettiness and possessiveness when it comes to the other that it's SO funny actually if you think about it (also very cute).

I imagine them having feelings for each other but the timing was always wrong, maybe because at first Dick was the only one in love, and then maybe Wally realises Dick's feeling and finds that he may also feel something but he already has a girlfriend, and the the Teen Titans split up, and then they form again but Dick meets Kori and then Wally meets Linda and then it's the thing:

Something pushed you both in different directions. Us? I got married. He didn't.

THE REASON I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS AAAAAHHHH

It's the fact that you keep holding onto something that isn't there anymore because you aren't the same people with the same lives as before, but despite it all you still know and understand the other better than most people and keep coming back to that comfort that you'll always find with THAT person who somehow always knows what to do to make you feel seen and understood and just by hearing them you feel better.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to yap about them✨🤸

Some more moments to get my point across:

Ok that's it or I'll stay here for days.

#asks #first time using this tag insane #ok I'll stop #dick grayson #wally west #birdflash #romantic or platonic nothing can make me hate them #dickwally #dc comics #nightwing #the flash #robin #kid flash #teen titans

[vodika-vibes]

hi!! i’m back on the wrecker train bc i love him soooooo much!!!

anyways i was hoping to request a fairytale AU with wrecker please! i really love the princess and the frog (disney movie) so could you write something using that with a gn reader? i would also love for this to have romance and a sprinkle of comedy please!

absolutely no rush for this also!

The Soldier and the Frog

Summary: You visit a psychic on a whim, thinking that it’ll just be a funny story to tell your family when you go home from your vacation. The last thing you expect is for her to turn you into a frog. Well, no, the very last thing you expect is for the curse to be contagious, though you learned that the hard way when Wrecker, a nice guy who wanted to help you, offered you a kiss to turn you back to normal…only to turn into a bullfrog himself.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1863

Warnings: None

Prompt: Princess and the Frog AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! Thanks for your request. I'm not so sure about this one, because I didn't want to follow the movie exactly, so I made a few changes. But also, I'm struggling to focus for long periods of time. Pain is very distracting, lol. I hope you like it!

“This isn’t so bad,” Wrecker offers as he hops from a fallen log down to the ground, “I mean, it could be worse.”

“Speak for yourself. You’re at least big enough that people will notice you,” You grumble as you carefully hop down behind him, “I’m so small that I’ll get stepped on.”

Wrecker laughs, “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“You’re a nice guy, Wrecker, but you’re still a toad.”

“Bullfrog,” He corrects as he slows and waits for you to catch up, “Don’t be so glum, all we have to do is find this witch-doctor and he’ll definitely fix us up.”

You sigh, “Yeah, yeah. I know.” You pause, “I just feel bad. You were just trying to help me and now you’re cursed too.”

“Don’t worry about it. Better to be cursed together than having to deal with this on your own.” He glances towards the sky for a moment, what little that can be seen through the thick trees, “We should find someplace to take shelter for the night.”

You won’t admit it, but you’re grateful that he’s here. In all honesty, you’ve never been the best at dealing with crises, you tend to panic and forget everything that you’ve ever learned in your life. And this, right here, is a crisis if you’ve ever been in one.

Of course, you never received any lessons on what to do when you’re cursed by a fake psychic and are turned into a tree frog. It’s a rather noticeable hole in your education, now that you’re thinking about it.

Wrecker seems to know what to do, at least. Or, if he’s panicking, he’s not showing it.

He leads you over to a tree and you follow behind him, “Hey, Wrecker?”

The much larger frog pauses and turns to look at you, “What’s up?”

“How are you so calm about this? I would think that panic would be a normal reaction to being turned into a frog.” You say as you hurry to his side. 

“Well, I’m a soldier.”

You make a face, “What, and the army prepares you to be cursed?”

He laughs, “No. Not like that.” He grins at you, “They do, however, teach us that panic is the enemy. If you panic you die. So I don’t panic.”

“Well, that’s one of us, at least.” You say dryly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Wrecker lightly bumps you with his side, “Come on, it looks like there’s an opening at the base of the tree.”

He leads you over to the tree and investigates the hiding spot carefully, before allowing you to enter. Once he’s sure that you’re secure in the small opening, he squeezes in next to you, and rests his chin on the top of your head.

You think, for a moment, that you should be bothered by this. You barely know Wrecker. In fact, you’ve only known him for a couple of days, but you don’t think you’ve ever been so comfortable with another person in your life. 

“So,” Wrecker asks as rain starts falling from the sky, “We never really talked about how you ended up in this situation in the first place.”

You huff and rest your chin on your webbed hands, “It’s dumb.”

“Dumber than kissing a frog on the off chance of curing a curse.”

You laugh, “Okay, when you put it like that-”

His weight presses down on you slightly, though it’s comforting, rather than suffocating. “Come on, let’s hear it.”

“Alright, alright.” You pause, “So I came here on vacation. A ten day vacation to get away from everything. I saw the signs for a psychic and I thought it would be fun. A funny story to bring back to my family.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And, like, I’ve had such a hard time with relationships lately, so that’s what I asked about and…then I ended up like this.”

“Which psychic?”

“Sorry?”

“There are a lot of psychics in the area.” Wrecker clarifies, “Which one did you visit?”

“Oh.” You think for a moment, “Lady Violet, I think.”

He sucks in a breath, “That would explain it.”

“What?” You squirm to look at him.

“Well, Lady Violet has something of a reputation.” Wrecker offers, “She targets tourists. Odds are, she would have thrown you in a jar and then blackmailed your family for your release.”

“...oh.”

“How’d you escape?”

“I jumped out a window.” You admit sheepishly.

Wrecker laughs, “Clever.”

“I didn’t even think. I just panicked and jumped.” You add with a laugh of your own, “I…” You pause, “I feel really bad for getting you involved in this, but I’m also really glad that you’re here.”

“I’m glad that I’m here too. Plus, this will be an interesting story to share with my brothers.” He lightly nudges you with his head, “Come on, let’s get some sleep, we should reach the Witch-Doctor’s house tomorrow, assuming nothing interrupts us.”

You settle under him, “You know this Witch-Doctor?”

“Well, know is a bit strong of a word,” Wrecker allows, “But I know of him. He’s a decent sort. He’s worked with some of my brothers before.”

“So this magic thing is normal, then?”

“Not normal so much as not abnormal.” Wrecker corrects, “Now, stop your fretting. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

You believe him. How could you not?

Slowly you drift to sleep, feeling safe and secure with Wrecker pressed against you, even if you are both little more than frogs.

You wake several hours later, to the sound of Wrecker speaking with…someone. You blink bleary eyes and notice that you’re no longer in the tree where you fell asleep.

No, it looks like you’re in a house of some kind.

Surprised, you jump up to where you hear Wrecker’s voice. He glances at you and favors you with a small smile, before he focuses his attention on the man speaking to him.

“Awake at last,” The man, who looks more like an ancient troll, says kindly.

“Did you sleep well?” Wrecker asks as you walk over to him and peer up at the green skinned man.

“I think so?”

“Good.” He nods towards the man, “This is Yoda, he’s the witch-doctor that I was telling you about.”

“Master of my art, I am.” Yoda confirms, “Curious, this case is. Strong, is the pall of magic.”

“But you can help?” Wrecker asks.

“Yes, yes.” He hobbles away from the table that you and Wrecker are sitting on, going over to a wall of books, “Simple, this curse is. Easy to reverse.” He turns his gaze back towards you, “You are the vector?”

“I…what?”

“He’s asking if you were the one who was originally cursed,” Wrecker clarifies.

“Oh. Yes, that’s me.”

Yoda hums and turns back to the bookshelf, “Only a moment, this will take.” He pauses and carefully lifts you and sits you on a chair, before carrying Wrecker to another chair.

You watch as Yoda hobbles over to a work table, and mixes some items together, before he walks over to you and sprinkles something over your head. You’re vaguely aware of him doing the same thing to Wrecker, but then there’s the sensation of being lifted, and you squeak as you, now human again, fall off the chair.

A large hand appears in front of your face, and you look up at Wrecker, who’s grinning at you. He’s human again too.

Gratefully, you take his hand and allow him to hoist you to your feet.

“Thank you Master Yoda,” Wrecker says, “We appreciate you helping.”

“Happy to help, I am.” Yoda replies as he lightly pats Wreckers knee, and then motions for the pair of you to follow him.

He leads you through his home and pushes open a door, revealing a bedroom, “Um…what’s this?” You ask.

“Not safe to travel,” Yoda warns, “Frogs require less than Humans,”

You’re not sure you completely understand, but you get the basic idea. Essentially, you and Wrecker are going to be hit by a wall as the last couple of days come back to bite you.

“Thank you, Master,” You offer politely.

He smiles at you and lightly pats your hand, before he hobbles away, and you’re pretty sure he mumbles something about properly punishing his wayward apprentice, though you’re not positive. 

Wrecker ushers you into the room, and shuts the door behind him as you sit on the edge of the bed. There’s only one, though it’s a big enough bed for both you and Wrecker, not to mention three other people, if you had to guess.

“How are you feeling?” Wrecker asks as he sits next to you.

You consider his question seriously, “Honestly. Tired. How about you?”

“Same. Though I suppose I’m not surprised.” Wrecker moves so that he’s stretched out in the middle of the bed, his eyes closing as he sinks into the soft bed, and you watch him for a moment. 

“Hey, Wrecker?”

“Hm?”

“What happens next?”

He cracks open a single eye, “What do you mean?”

You hesitate. Honestly, the idea of being separated from him makes something painful lurch in your chest. “Just…what happens now?” You try to clarify lamely. 

He’s thoughtful for a moment, “Well. We rest and recover from our ordeal. And then we go back to the city and you go home.” There’s a frown on his handsome face as he says that. “Although. I’m not sure I like that.” He admits.

“Which part?”

“The ‘you leaving’ part.” He smiles at you, “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

You watch him for a moment, “You hardly know me, Wrecker.”

“We just spent a week together as frogs.” He points out, “We’ve avoided crocs and birds and frog hunters. We’ve bonded.”

You laugh quietly, and kick your shoes off, before you crawl into the middle of the bed next to him, dropping your head on his shoulder, “Well, I’m glad that you’re thinking the same thing as me.” You admit.

His arm folds around you, and you feel, more than see, him sigh in relief. And then you feel warm lips against your forehead, “We’ll make it work. Together. Just like everything else this last week.”

You shift so that you’re able to see his face properly, “I’d like that.” You admit. And then, quickly, before you lose your nerve, you lean in and press your lips against his, before you pull back.

He stares at you, stunned. And you’re about to pull away from him, only for his hand to press against the back of your head and pull you down into another, deeper, more proper kiss.

“This is much better than kissing a frog,” Wrecker mumbles against your lips, before pulling you back into the kiss carefully maneuvering you so that you’re laying on top of him.

And that’s about when the exhaustion slams into the both of you. You tuck your head under Wrecker’s chin, and he folds himself around you, and you both drift off to sleep.

You have no way of knowing what’s going to happen from here on out. But so long as you and Wrecker are together, you’re not worried.

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[soupacool]

congrats on taking T and experiencing voice changes, that's so exciting!! 🥳🥳✨✨

thank you!!! it's been a period of intense learning of myself and my place in the world and I wouldn't trade it for anything

#fredfinch #soupy post #if you will allow me to ramble further in the tags since I haven't really talked about this very much <333 #it was something I was really not certain about for a very long time. I kind of needed to start it to understand my feelings about it #and now my feelings are 'yay!' and singing joyfully #(singing is amazing. every day my range changes and I sound more like myself. I feel the vibrations in my chest and it feels like home) #I'm very grateful to the circumstances in my life that have allowed me to make my own decisions about my body and experience #I have a trans healthcare provider and I wish I could give that gift to every trans person seeking gender affirming care #they are so wonderful and have gone above and beyond on my behalf #they let me be unsure. they did not push me one bit they made sure I had all the info and answered every question I had #I asked if I could decide if I wanted it on my own at home and they said absolutely. and I obviously decided to move forward #I don't think T is something that I will be on for the rest of my life but right now it absolutely feels like the right thing #I am getting permanent changes that are gender affirming for me and I understand elements of my gender even better #I feel intensely masculine but less like a man than I've ever felt in my life. I feel very connected to my butchness tho #and extremely extremely connected to my voice <3 #anyways thank you again for your message mr fredfinch it put a great big smile on my face

[arklay]

Your anger and sadness are so fucking justified. Stealing someone's oc is ridiculous. There's NO need to do that! You don't even need that much creativity to make your own, and if you're really stuck (like I get sometimes) just look towards canon characters or blogs dedicated to help building ocs. What's worse is tumblr's blocking system because, unless you block them on anon, it simply blocks their blog. They can log out and still view your blog! God I'm so sorry that this happened.

thank you 😭😭 i'm like so just horrifically angry right now that idk if i'm overreacting or if i was seeing things that weren't there, but no, the more i look and the more i match up the timeline of posts, it becomes extremely apparent to me that their oc is a copy of diana, and that really really hurts. and yes, i've cried a lot about it, because i talk about her so often and how much she means to me and how much just creative energy she gave me this year and the fact that i even write consistently now, so it hurts. i put a lot into her, so it's just really unfair, and like you said, blocking people on here is like hardly even effective

#asks. #anonymous #thank you for like validating my anger because i often feel a lot of guilt with my reactions and um idk like i feel like i am not allowed #to get angry in the first place because of like imposter syndrome and all that nonsense. but i just kept seeing things from that oc's story #and not just backstory but little facts or what were throw away comments and it just... everything. i could connect to diana. and the #colour scheme is similar too and the heights and the timeline and the little things about like ex-husband. working at nest. close to the #birkins. saw al as an annoyance at the start lmao like there's so much i could connect. and now seeing that their oc also injected themself #with a virus on a whim which i've talked about many times with diana doing and that he got very overprotective and worried afterwards with #it. like. all these things in isolation. fine. whatever. but when they all add up... it's ridiculous. like i'm just so hurt because i #constantly talk about how special diana is to me and how special they both are to me and i don't know what to do because i don't feel the #need to reach out and like accuse directly but it's like. they get away with that. and my ideas. and my character who has been around since #feb. i made her on valentine's day. i'm not even joking. so. i didn't post about her until early march. well i did but that's the earliest #in her tags because i delete posts a lot. went and looked at my oc blog and no there are still things from feb. but on here the earliest is #march. i'm just not doing great with it all i suppose. especially because i had something happen last week that made me really upset and i #was just getting back into like okay i'll post on here more often. and then i notice this and idk i'm rambling but i just feel really sick #like the realisation sunk in and i felt sick to my stomach so it hurts #but um thank you for saying all of this like it does mean a lot to me to know that my reaction is justified so thank you

[ankhisms]

feeling the sad little pathetic creature emotions this evening suddenly. i dont really want to dwell in feeling bad but it is a familiar deep sad feeling u know. itll be ok i just have to let it out

#to the tune of ghengis khan dont wanna feel like nooo one believes in meeeeeeee im experiencing like. something thats #akin to my very specific paranoia of being paranoid of everyone secretly hating me and talking badly about me or thinking im horrible #secretly where its like my brain is telling me that no one believes in me including my friends and logically i know this isnt true. i have #so many people in my life who i love and appreciate and who have supported me through hardships and who i want to support #in turn. but thats the thing with my paranoia and delusions yknow i can be at least somewhat aware that im being irrational but in the end #that doesnt make it go away. and my brain is just like. no one believes in you when it comes to the creative things you want to do #like my art and acting and poetry. and then my brain tells me that the people around me just pity me and dont want to outright #say that everything i make or try to create sucks because they feel bad for me. and again i KNOW this isnt true. and i #feel bad and feel like im being unfair to my friends bc if this paranoia so i dony want to bring it up to anyone beyond venting like this #and also i feel scared that somehow bringing this specific paranoia up would be like guilt tripping people into like being nice to me or #somethimg my words are weird but my braim very much is like you are not allowed to ask for support or tell people about being insecure #and i do think this overall has something to do with my deep issues of completely lacking any confidence in myself or my abilities #which is due to a life time of abuse etc etc and its hard to build up any confidence in myself when i am still stuck in #my toxic home with no real options to get out at this point for various reasons. but its like #what if i just suck at the things i love to do? what if my art is just bad or mediocre even? what if im a bad actor or a bad poet? what id #even though i feel a deep calling within my soul to create and do these things what if even though i only ever feel truly alive #when i am acting or painting. what if none of it is any good. and no one wants to tell me that because they pity me #again. on a certain level i know this is all just my paranoia and is unreasonable. but its a feeling thats really hard to shake off yknow #anyway. thank u if you read this all i prommy ill be ok i just had to get it out 💖

[tardis--dreams]

To summarize today's day in university:

- got diagnosed with social phobia by a class mate (bitch?!)

- heard a Very cool lecture/presentation by a guest lecturer

- our lecturer said she kinda liked our idea for our presentation

- had lunch with friends in the uni canteen which was nice but evoked some existential despair

#about that social phobia thing: first she showed me the term on her phone during a seminar (when she couldn't talk loudly) #asking if i had that to which i said no i do not?! #then after class she again said 'i think you have social phobia. because you don't like talking to people or in class' *nodding knowingly* #to which i again said i did Not have it but ok whatever #because hello?! the only person allowed to say i have social anxiety is Me. fuck you?! #like I DO say i have social anxiety because i do i guess. but a) not talking in class is not an indicator for this #b) i Do talk in class lmao. and I've never actually had any problems around her regarding anxiety #like i have no problem talking to classmates or saying something in the classes we have together so Fuck Off?! #(i mean it is a giant problem sometimes in some contexts but STILL. YOU DON'T GET TO 'DIAGNOSE' ME. #i hereby officially undiagnose myself from that thank you very much) #ANYWAY do you know the feeling of meeting someone you really look up to like maybe an author or a musician or whatever in REAL LIFE #AND YOU GET TO TALK TO THEM? that excitement where you're like 'omg i can't believe that's happening i can't believe you're here in a room #with me TALKING TO ME? and I get to hear about something unpublished you're working on rn?? like exclusive insight into current research??? #that was me today during that presentation by that guest lecturer! I've read most of her articles and at some point idk i guess you find #researchers in your field whose work you just find Very interesting and then when you get to meet them it feels a little unreal #(not to fangirl over a linguist or anything. i rarely do that (don't speak to me about my favorite lecturer who i also totally don't see as #a huge inspiration or anything)) #but yeah also i was so worried about the presentation next week but now our lecturer said she didn't hate the topic I'm more chill about it #AND yeah sorry folks‚ healthcare doesn't exist here :( no i can't help you find a doctor there's no hope just accept it #I LOVE the fact that international students keep bringing up this topic! the sheer despair and Anxiety you get to hear about! fantastic! #like I'm sorry about this obviously but that's just how we live here? What do you MEAN in your country you just can go to a doctor FOR FREE #and they'll help you? what yeah man I'll come to Russia with you! (seriously. this is one of the main things preventing people from staying #here. the absolute Lack of healthcare. people who are like 'yeah i love it here but honestly? I'm too scared something might happen #and then no one will help me.. yep. understandable. i have just accepted that i will die due to this #but if you have the option to go (back) to a country where things are different I'd do that tbh. #(sorry just normal lunch conversation topics we have here #i still feel very nice and fuzzy because i was invited ahahaha (i have a sad life lmao)) #shut up amy #university ramblings

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

#hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #analysis #dissociation #look idk what to tell you all #I watched the episode and everything makes so much more sense #when you realize he's only intaking like 50-60% of the conversations #he's not bad at listening his brain is literally preventing him from getting everything #literally I've been there #the difference between him and me tho #is that he can't show it #he's the king of hell #he has to bluff his way through conversations #but yeah literally rewatch the episode with this in mind #and watch him reply to the things he DID catch #anyways #NEW BLORBO???? #who'd've thought I would go into Hazbin Hotel #and come out with freaking LUCIFER as my favorite character #I love him #he's so sad

[cumikering]

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

��Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family Masterlist

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

#ghostchallenge #call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty fluff #cod fluff #call of duty x you #cod x you #female reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #x chubby reader #x plus size reader

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

~

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

~

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

~

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

~

~

~

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel

[bonewreath]

in which ellie shows you exactly who you belong to.

18+ minors dni!

You and Ellie aren’t together. 

You’re not a couple. You’d both agreed to keep things casual. You’re just roommates who mess around sometimes; simple as that. 

So why do you feel so guilty for going on a date with someone else?

You’re dressed and ready, adding the final touches to your makeup in the mirror, and you should be feeling excited - your date is a total dreamboat. Perfect on paper and so, so hot. But instead of that giddy, fluttery feeling in your stomach, all you feel is guilt. 

You and Ellie aren’t together, you keep reminding yourself. You repeat it like a mantra in your head. There’s nothing wrong with going on a date, right? Because you’re single… Right?

On your way out, you run into Ellie, because of course you do. She’s sprawled out on the couch, head propped on a pillow, playing her Switch with a determined look on her face. Your stomach clenches when you see her. She looks up when she hears you walk to the front door, her eyes following you as you slip into your shoes. 

“You look nice,” Ellie says from the couch. You look over and see that she’s paused her game; she’s sitting up and drinking in the sight of you, eyes lingering over your frame. You pretend not to notice. 

“Thank you, Ellie.” You grin and look down at your outfit, palms smoothing over the fabric of your skirt. You do look nice. 

“Where are you going?” 

Your cheeks go hot at the question, and your first instinct is to lie - to tell Ellie that you’re going to see a friend. Just catching up with someone from college over dinner. But it’d be stupid to lie - you’re single. You’re allowed to go out.

“I’m, um, going on a date.”

You don’t look at her when you say it - you know you’d feel guilty, even if the two of you are just friends with benefits. Or… Roommates with benefits?

“Oh,” Ellie says, as you busy yourself picking off nonexistent lint from your shirt. Anything to avoid her gaze. “Okay. Have fun, then.”

There’s no bitterness in her voice, which you had expected. You glance at her face, and she’s back to that determined expression, focused on her Switch again. 

You clear your throat. “Thanks. I’ll, um… See you later.” 

Naturally, you spend the entire date thinking about Ellie. Her eyes, green and dotted with flecks of brown. Her hair, which falls in her face just right. Her mouth, and the way it feels against the supple flesh of your throat, Ellie’s lips soft and wet as she trails kisses down your neck. 

And her hands - her strong hands. You can almost feel them on your hips, on your chest, between your legs. 

God, this date was a mistake.  

Still, you have the common decency to see it through. You pretend to be interested in your date’s job, their hobbies, their five year plan. They drone on for hours, only asking you a few pointed questions about yourself, and when the dinner’s finally over and they’ve signed the check, you’re itching to leave.

Not long after you’ve made it back home, you’re face-down on Ellie’s bed, moaning into the mattress as her tongue circles your clit. 

She’d asked you about your date between heated kisses, her lips flushed and swollen. You hadn’t given her much details aside from it was boring and I just wanted to come home and do this. That seemed to give Ellie some sort of complex, because now, as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with one hand and lands a stinging smack on your ass with the other, she pulls back from mouthing at your clit to rasp, “That’s it, moan for me.” 

And she’s always been talkative in bed, all slurred curses and dirty comments, but there’s something different this time. You arch your back deeper, giving her more access to pound her fingers into you, and she groans in approval. 

“Good fucking girl,” she breathes, using her free hand to dig her blunt nails into the flesh of your ass. She gives it another spank for good measure. “Wanna tell me whose pussy this is?”

There it is - something she’s never said before. You can feel yourself getting wetter, tightening around her fingers as your hips involuntarily push backwards against her palm. You forget to respond entirely, every thought in your head smooth and shapeless, disappearing as quickly as it came. But Ellie won’t let you off so easily. 

“Flip over,” she orders, the rasp in her voice sending a thrill up your spine. You obey wordlessly, and when you’re on your back, you see it: a possessive glint in her gaze, a sharp edge to her expression. You gush impossibly wetter, cunt clenching around nothing - the absence of Ellie’s fingers makes you want to sob. 

“Ellie,” you whisper, brows knitting together. Her gaze softens. “Please make me come.”

A smile tugs at her lips and she nods, her palm rubbing over your stomach in soothing circles. 

“I will, princess,” she assures you, “but I need you to tell me who you belong to. Think you might’ve forgotten.”

Guilt twists in your gut. “You, Ellie.” 

“What about me?”

There’s a challenge in the teasing lilt of her voice. You swallow. “I… Belong to you.”

“Mm, that’s right.” Ellie’s hands travel upward from your abdomen to your chest, closing around each of your tits. You suck in a shaky breath when her thumbs stroke over your pert nipples, making them draw even more taut. “These are mine?”

“Yours,” you gasp, chest rising and falling quickly. Ellie’s bangs fall in her eyes as she leans over to suck a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling over the bud until you go cross-eyed, hips canting upward. She repeats the same torture with your other breast, leaving both of your nipples swollen and sensitive. 

“What about this?” Ellie asks when she pulls back, her hand moving to the heat between your legs. You whine, a desperate, pathetic little sound that makes Ellie want to eat you whole. 

“Yours, Ellie, it’s yours,” you say, voice betraying how needy you are. She dips a finger into your wetness, your folds silky with arousal, and you almost miss the way her eyes flicker back into her skull for a moment. She’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“This is mine?” She drags her fingers up to your clit, drawing torturously wide circles around it - close, but not close enough. You could start crying right there. You nod, frantic.

Ellie clicks her tongue, tuts in disapproval. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it. Whose pussy is this?”

And it’s not so hard to admit - Ellie’s had you under her spell long before you went on that stupid date tonight. You realize it now, cheeks warming at the obscene sounds of Ellie’s fingers playing in your cunt, unable to look her in the eye without squirming. 

“My pussy’s yours,” you pant, “s’all yours. Nobody fucks me like you, Els.” 

You’re pushing your hips towards her touch, your tits in your own hands now, pulling at your nipples like it’ll relieve the growing need in your belly. Ellie eyes you with half-lidded eyes, lust heavy in her gaze, and it’s like you can see the remnants of her resolve break. She sinks between your legs and finally, finally laps at your desperate cunt, drinking in the taste of you as you whine and writhe above her. 

When you come, it’s with Ellie’s name on your lips. And you know it’s true - you’re entirely hers.

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